Editor's Nightmare

I had my reservations the moment I saw my veryvery bored friends succumb to this dictionary-shmuckionary. It defined kimberly chin [noun]: A person who enjoys the smell of rotten eggs, and devil_undercover [noun]: A deadly strain of projectile vomit.

Righty-o.

Much later, on a particularly blue note and grasping for distraction, I tried it out and got joy wong [adjective]: Similar to butter in texture and appearance.

Completely baffled, I did some sleuthing, and sniffed up that, on top of supposedly being er, butter, I was also *drumroll*...

[adjective]: Sexually stunning
[noun]: A dance involving little to no clothing
[noun]: A master of storytelling
[noun]: A person who is a master of making ravioli
[adjective]: Fuzzy to the touch
[noun]: An immortal
[noun]: A person who is constantly high

What am I, some constantly-evolving alien-organism? But my favourite - and the only one if-at-all accurate - is:

joy wong -- [adjective]: Pretentiously academian 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Really, with all the nonsense to be found out there, it's no wonder intelligence is not high on the ratings these days. At least now I'm a slightly lighter shade of aqua, and by my own infinite wisdom, consider myself [adjective]: highly intelligent. Maybe I'll work on that ravioli one.

Birthday Business II

~BACK TO SCHOOL SATURDAY @ MILLS PARK~ The school jock and some random fan
Bad boy behaviour
Closed clique
Practiced player? ;D
I rest my case
Takes all kinds
The only period the boys become truly alert - feeding-time!
Class act
The school years
Spanky!
Stevie seems to like it... Madam Wong is clearly enjoyin' it!
Mock-submission to pep talk pishposh
School girls are cool girls
Everyone now: bop your head in, bop your bum out!
We're invincible!
Those were the days...
Who's on who's turf?
PTA Meet?
When all else fails, smile and wing it!
Good times!

~THE AFTERPARTY~ What's a party without some liquidfun?

Jagerbombs - the flashiest-made drink about town!
A certain-type substance do indeed happy people make
Time and again
And again
Happy 21st Stephen!

Birthday Business

~FRIDAY @ FAWKNER~ Birthday Boy
The Group
If there's 1 halo and 2 girls, does that make them only 1/2 angels?
With the friendly waiter
Dimples gets the girls
Is it just me, or do our hairstyles and smiles all look the same?
Vince and Jus and the yummyyummy bread!
Wahh! Sauce in its own pot!
The girls get fishy
Meat maketh a happy me
Dessert - the cake, I mean

Trouble

with me is that there's something wrong. I know what, but not why. For some strange reason, I've been completely unmotivated this term. It's almost over, and I've done nothing whatsoever towards seeing I complete it and move to the last term next semester. To which - worser still - I am neither moved nor frightened about.

I'm not talking about the usual procrastinate-til-the-last-possible-minute type delay, either. I have enough work piled up to scare the most industrious of students, and I just. Can't. Be. Arsed. And laadeedaa I don't care!

Believe you me, I've tried just about everything: give myself a break (many, accurately), undeservingly treat myself, self-motivate, self-scare, self-slap, do reality checks, consequence checks, etc etc. And no, the look-forward-to is not working an iota of good. No external encouragement of that sort, please. I've become allergic to it, thankyou for trying. But allergy is cause for irritation, and as is, I am already very much so.

The only thing I'm really stressed about is my not being stressed about anything else.

----

for you is that you are not in the good books. You said you'd give me the rest of it before you went, and you didn't. I reminded you, as requested, and called. Several times. C'mon - this isn't like you.

----

with the head is that it is complicated by the heart. Or the reverse, if you prefer. Why must the complexities and variables that apply often pan out mutually exclusive, even though in theory, they are not?

----

is, there's just too much trouble to deal with.

is, I feel so damn tired. I think I need to exercise. Trouble with that, is I hate to.

Just for Steve

All this mess...
...just for this!

Reason Enough

Stole this photo from Isaac; I know he won't mind. I miss his easygoing, accommodating, just-plain-niceness. And Yew Kuan's equally-straightfaced serious talk and total BS. And Ian's macho-metro act and bitching sessions. That they can be, respectively, so full of corniness, brutally honest, deviant-encourager. That - all three of them - can, when the mood so strikes and as this photo proves, be totally insane. And carry it off all so wickedly. That they crack me up, that they look out for me like big brothers (aww), that they make time for me despite now having to dabble in the grown-up world and prioritize other significant others, that they stick up for me, try to make me feel better. That they make my going back, each summer, worth every bit the while.

I miss them terribly. And all our yumcha escapades: brunches at World of Dim Sum, late night mamak sessions, BBQs back at mine, random, rather interesting lunches.

I'm sitting amid Damien Rice, over- and repeatedly-internalized thoughts, and piles of work. Missing home. Feeling sorry for myself. But then, I've become quite the pity party organizer, with the continually developing knack for finding reasons to, of late.

Better stop now before I cry.

Only One Thing

You can think of.

The Only One Thing you can't have.

Why, if this is not new, or surprising or unexpected - why, when without a doubt you know better - does it only Make Things Worse?

We want what we can't have, have what we don't want. Human nature, yes, but Why?

Edit: And even if you are so fortunate, you get what you want... You induce the Converse and Vicious Cycle Arguments. Which, in turn, induces the Contentment and Satisfaction Arguments, inducing, third time round, the Priorities Argument. I know - I just like to rant. And wish, if rose-tinted.

What makes you...

smile, to yourself, without fail, every time?

Categorisation Cock Up

First up, I am not a spoiler type of girl, so up until when there is a movie so orgasmic I feel the need to rave euphorically for the whole world to hear (sharing is caring, I recall the saying goes), breathe easy. So I watched Final Destination 3 and I must say: Are the local classification officers Out. Of. Their. Minds! (I know, I know, a question mark due, but I'm calling on the license of literary effect on this one...)

When catching MI:3, I distinctly recall the rating to be M. Which - I checked - include depictions of violence that should:-
Not contain a lot of detail,
Not be prolonged;
In realistic treatments:-
Be infrequent,
Not have a high impact and/or be gratuitous;
In stylised treatments:-
Contain more detail and be more frequent if this does not increase the impact (more here).
And, nudity should not contain a lot of detail, or be prolonged.

Fine. Lots of ground to start an argument, whichever your camp. Or so one thinks - until(!), you find FD3 is rated MA15+. The summary of that rating, is really that: Depictions of violence should not have a high impact. That where an M rating is unsuitable for those under the age of 15, an MA15+ is fine. That whatever the impact an M rated show may have to um offer, an MA15+ one should be an impact or three or whatever the rate lesser.

Right.

That would explain all the absolutely gory, bloody, messy prolonged scenes of FD3. The unrecognizably multilated, strewn all over, plain gross scenes. Don't get me wrong. It's butcher heaven. MI3 has nothing to hold up to them.

Incidentally, I don't recall any prolonged or very detailed sex scenes of Mr and Mrs Hunt at all. But why would I when I am going to remember FD3's resident bimbos shaking their cosmetically dehanced (yes) goods for the everyone's viewing er gaze instead? After all, the MA15+ rule is: Depictions of nudity in a sexual context which contain detail should not be exploitative. Everyone knows bimbos are never exploitated into showing off anything they themselves don't want to, anyway.

Oh, yes. The movie itself. All that good-for-nothing carnage boils down to exactly that. Nothing. Because it gets cancelled out by having a weak, weak plot, and a disgracefully, disgustingly complete lack of logic. And we all know how important logic is to any smart storyline, stupid-no-reason-ghost-stories genre aside. (Still, I think I'll cover my ass and say: all you Alex types, steer clear.)

----

On a completely different note, yesterday i was LIVID when I realized I lost something! After no undue search of the same possible scenes again and again, it certainly wasn't a case of thought I'd misplaced it; it was assuredly, realized I Could. Not. Find. the blasted thing.

I say blasted now due to all the grief it caused me then. Oh, and I meant to say. The Finding, when on the brink of giving up and eternal sorrow, a Molten Fountain.

What was it? Nothing big, really. Technically. Ok, fine. It has ultimate sentimental value, is unbelievably precious, irreplaceable.
Just goes to show.

Of Words II

Simple, little words.
Words like
can't
say sorry
won't
give up

Sometimes simple, little words, even the negative, is a positive thing.
Sometimes simple, little words are the ultimate pick-me-up.

Of Words

But is the loudest silence I've known in a while.

I'd love to.

That's great.

I would really like it.

That promise I made.

But carries within it disappointment, pain, rejection. Its business is to let down, let go, make done with. I know, the opposite can be true. Just like the opposite is a lot less common than not. In which case, it only illustrates false hope.

I hate it most when I have need for but. Especially when it goes between two sentences, as wont to do, the former in past tense, the latter a reference to the future. Such a dispairing play of holding onto what was, and grasping onto what never will be.

If the world would fade away

And I could live today, again, tomorrow.

Warm Wish

Carefree times, summer sun... You don't know what I'd give to have some.

Kindergarden Heart

a little flop over
sweet, sad flop over
and a little bit dies
for no good reason
no good reason
a little bit dies
for no good reason
at all

swell quietly
and sink
with weighted
realization

sometimes
you don't get a choice
settling for second best

Deejay Delivery

All that partyin'...
is doin' me head in!

OR IS IT

My life, so complicated...
Hit me with another one!

Happy Birthday Rev! Keep the music we love comin'...

Because there's no such thing as one too many

Right, Lex?
Til the next JAL meetup...

Odd Spot

#69 Only female ducks can quack.

#58 During a kiss, as many as 278 bacteria colonies are exchanged.

#125 The electric chair was invented by a dentist.

I like

long showers. Short baths. Both very hot.
not, that when drinking, I can't seem to swallow without also swallowing a lot of air.
(mostly) all colour of clothes. But the good old b&w tones for corporate wear.
kettles of fish more than schools.
word play. The-rapist thera-pist psycho-logist psych-o-maniac.
nay, love, logic. But hate math.
shopping. Especially for clothes, shoes, homeware, cds, bags, food, jewellry, artstuff, chocolates, books, lingerie, kitchenware, nice things. Who am I kidding. I love shopping.
cooked apple. Pie. Strudel. Cider. You cook it, I like it.
animals. Spiders.
coffee. Tea. Caffeine, simply.
soups. Chinese. Eastern. Western. Except pumpkin.
spoiling people.
friends who say boom bada bada bing.
Calvin & Hobbes.
decorating.
organizing. And planning.
rain very very much.
thunderstorms, too.
recollecting.
the beach, the sea. Seashells. Sea breeze. Ocean spray.
taking photos.
trees.
that I don't care I'm narcissistic.

Bulk Business

The past few weeks have been packin' a punch. That, and I've been so tired out, I feel (as if) I've been doing a lot more than I really am; so much so I'm wishing human hibernation were a very true, very real part of nature. Which is not to say the things I have been at are unimportant. On the contrary, they are quite the opposite. I reckon it's exactly because they are, that I've been so wiped out. Mental and emotional involvment has gotten me all worn in a way say, braving less-than-ideal weather conditions in less-than-snug clothes for wild nights out clubbing til the break of dawn five weekends in a row or some other such lose-countable number with the choice poisons of alcohol, second-hand smoking and devil-may-care hair-tossing skill for good measure has never done.

Which is not to say I begrudge these wiping-out past few weeks. Only the well-worn get the privilege of being so because they first well-love. And mental and emotional weightage are definite ingredients in that recipe. So without further ado, Miss Panda Eyes presents The Week Gone By In Pictures (and some captions):

The little one is not that little

But you know we love you, little and not-so-little counterparts and all.

Happy XXth Birthday Eky! :D