And so we meet again.

Here I sit on the grey carpet of the Wellington Airport. The departure hall is quiet, one sole cafe/bar open catering to the other life forms that have the unfortunate luck of pulling the midnight flight. As my flight is an insanely early 6.50 am flight, I've decided to stay the night at the airport rather than fork out a night's worth of too-short-to-be-called-sleep at the downtown backpackers. "I've done this before in Sydney, why not again?", I figured. Thank goodness for the free Wi-Fi Internet at the airport. Double thank goodness-es for the fact that I have my laptop with me. My laptop may not be able to produce sounds or not lag or log onto the broadband Internet I have at Melbourne, but at least it's wireless card is working splendidly.

Due to unforeseen circumstances, I've had to cut my trip short by 7 days. Instead of a round month, I will have spent 25 days in the North Island of New Zealand. Oh but don't worry, dear Aotearea, I will be back for you once again.

Note #1: I've had to delete 200 emails on top of 700 other piled up junk from my Gmail account. For reasons of keeping my sanity intact, I am choosing to ignore the fact that I have two other active e-mail accounts.

Note #2: My Facebook homepage depresses me. There are over a hundred worth of invites to games, applications and what-have-yous I will have to ignore. Can't there be a mass cull button installed please, Mr Zuckerberg?

You, Me and Everyone We Know

This is one of my favourite-st quotes from a TV programme ever.

The people you work with, are people you were just thrown together with. You don't know them, it wasn't your choice. And yet you spend more time with them than you do your friends or your family, but probably all you've got in common, is the fact that you walk around on the same bit of carpet for eight hours a day.

I ruminate a lot on the accuracy and poignancy of this quote whenever my mind wanders. After that, I smile when I think how Tim and Dawn end up together as you knew they should be from the start.

---

I wish there was a way to bundle everyone I love into a little tugboat so that I may never be without their company ever again. Everyone is scattered all over the place - technology is the glue that holds us all together. Technology isn't even concrete; it could be taken away from us with the destruction of a limb from the Machine. I am constantly guilty of taking advantage of it's infinite pervasiveness. "Oh yeah, I'll call home tomorrow." Tomorrow becomes the next day and the day after, and before I know it, two weeks later I hear the voice of a disappointed father on the end of the line.

Apparently, in my world, communication and the act of communicating is highly dependent on physical proximity.

Bet?

Thanks to the public of Australia voting in Kevin Rudd as the new PM, I can do this:



and this;



Also, this:



Word to the wise: I take my bets very seriously.

epiphany!

I realized not two minutes ago that nothing offends me more than bad comedy. It gets under my skin and infuriates me to the point where I feel rage thinking and talking about it. Bad comedy is quite different from stupid comedy. Stupid comedy, say the Farelly brothers, can be funny (There's Something About Mary more so than Stuck on You). Bad comedy on the other hand is insulting. It's offensive because it treats the audience as if we have the collective intelligence of desiccated coconut. To me, bad comedy is essentially lazy comedy. Lazy gags, lazy writing and with very little execution. Bad, bad, bad, terrible. Is it no surprise then that a lot of bad comedy is made up of un-clever stereotypes? Oh, you mean you like pizza, have a thick moustache, and is always horny? You must be Italian! Let's make you female just to really drive the point home!

Jesus.

Trivia: The only two movies I've ever turned off in my life are National Lampoon's: Van Wilder and Employee of the Month.

FACT: A comedy is going to be terrible if it has Ryan Reynolds playing Ryan Reynolds. True story.

Srs Bizness

via MonkeyJedi.

More amusing LOLHowards at the source.

Psychologize me

I found this test to be most accurate in describing my personality. It is based on Carl Jung and Isabel Myer-Briggs typological approach to personality. Two points to the test for being based off renowned contributors to the study of psychology. But minus one for being found on the Internet which is just inherently dodgy.

Take it here.

I am an Introverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving, ISTP, kinda person. Here is my favourite line off the profile which I thought described me down to a T.

"...communication also tends to be a key issue, since they generally express themselves non-verbally. When they do actually verbalize, ISTPs are masters of the one-liner, often showing flashes of humor in the most tense situations; this can result in their being seen as thick-skinned or tasteless."

If I had a dollar for everytime I've been reprimanded for doing so, I wouldn't be able to wear my pants! You know... because I would have plenty of dollars... that are heavy... hence the pants dropping.

Ahem.

Alright, so maybe "master of one-liners" was a bit of a stretch.

Erm....

From Gerard Way, lead singer, of My Chemical Romance.

How would you describe the kids that love your band?
Extremely creative, intelligent, expressive and very individual, aside from liking to wear black.

via ONTD.

The Wongs meet Web 2.0!

Hi dear,

This is my new email address.Learning from scratch.Never too old to learn, right. Do keep in touch with me.

Your old man.Luv.

Oh man. On that same day, I found out my sister has a working email address.

-dies in shock, mid-laughter-

One of these things is not like the other.

As I walked around doing my much delayed grocery shopping today, I noticed that the gaze of a multitude of people often landed at my midriff. It was weird. I was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Not a midriff baring one, mind you. I never went down that path, not even in '01 when the Britneys and Christinas of the world were championing it. So what was up? I hadn't eaten anything so it was impossible that something had spilled there. Did I wear my shirt inside out? A quick touch at the back of my neck indicated other wise. Maybe it's just my paranoia working in overdrive, I thought.

Then the shop boy at the butcher stall grinned and said, "Nice shirt."

I looked down.

Oh, yeah.

***This is a reminder of how my general awesomeness translates to really awesome attire. You may glance in awe and cower at the feet of my awesome shoes. That is all.***
---

I'm not really a fashion forward kind of girl. Not counting groceries and food, I haven't paid full retail price in a really, really long time. Almost everything I own came discounted, thrifted or from eBay. Unsurprisingly, my style is not what you would consider trendy. So it's really hard for me to understand some of the things people wear in the name of fashion.

Today, while on the streets I walked past a lady who was wearing, what I call, MC Hammer pants.
Yeap. Right down to the unnecessary voluminous hips to the tapered ankles. I saw it once in a store but I didn't think anyone would actually buy into it. I get that there's been some weird '80s revival going on in the fashion world but that's not even the glamorous part of 80s fashion! Rayban aviators, no problemo. The flouro colours, if I have to. But MC-Hammer-pants?! Jesus. Why don't you just throw in shoulder pads while you're scarring my vision and life?

Another thing that I don't get:


To the two guys I saw walking down Swanston Street yesterday: Actually, all guys of Melbourne. Victoria. Australia. The World. If John Rhys-Meyers doesn't look good in it, chances are, you're not going to either.

The model at American Apparel looks seminally better but that's because of the second layer and the fact that he looks like the bastard child of Seth Green and Breckin Meyer, who I both love unabashedly. Stick to skinny ties, fitted jeans and folded three quarter button down shirts, alright? Alternatively wear vintage tees or check-ed Western shirts. You'll thank me later when the trend passes and there isn't photographic evidence of you indulging in such fashion atrocities.

Truth and truth

Lies I have told as a barista

- Yeap. That's decaf.

- Oh yeap. That's definitely skinny milk.

- Oh no. I don't judge (how much sugar you put in your coffee). I just serve. I totally do.

- You're my favourite regular.

- Sorry, we've ran out of _____. Mostly, I'm too lazy.

- Sorry. The cafe is closed.

- Sure, we'll get married tomorrow.

Lies I have told as a barrister
:: slow clap ::

We are one push away from the nest

A year ago, I was marvelling over the progress we've made in developing video-sharing capabilities on the Internet. YouTube had become a verb in our everyday lexicon and Google had just purchased YouTube for a mind-boggling amount of money.

October '07: The observations of a passive YouTube user. YouTube remains what it is. We get the funny animals, music videos and people playing the theme to Mario using a variety of musical instruments. Sure, NBC and other official TV networks may have an official 'director' pages now, but that is hardly ground breaking. Skilled users could have just as easily ripped the very same content from their official website. For the most part, things remained the same. The same grainy low-quality videos existed and proliferated throughout the system.

And then Adobe, of the magical Flash player that YouTube and most video sharing websites utiliz, launched their Moviestar version of flash player. High definition TV quality for the Web? The future never seemed more promising. Yet there was talk of a revolution, but little action. Until now.

Vimeo has taken up the challenge and launched HD quality videos on their site. And the result is nothing short of amazing. For far too long we've come to accept crappy quality videos as the only option. Vimeo is leading the charge in the HD Video Revolution, and it is a hell of a promising start. Here's a wake up call to other video-sharing sites. It's time to bring your A game, fellas. Cause now that we've had a taste of it, it's fair to say that we're not going to expect complacency for much longer.

Article: Vimeo Showcases the Future of HD Web Video on Computer.

Hello Darkness, my old friend

Would that one could be alive and living, not just merely existing.

Sad

Actual work shift = 5.45 am - 10 am.

Finish time = 8.30 am.

Me = :D

Call from work at 12.24 pm = "Uh oh".

Second shift for the day = 4 - 8 pm.

Hence, me = :C

Holiday, celebrate!

My holiday starts next week. Or technically after 6 pm tomorrow. It goes for two weeks and if it isn't glaringly obvious enough, I'm super excited. I have recently purchased a whole bunch of books that I'm looking forward to get into.

- Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead
- Ayn Rand's Atlas, Shrugged
- Ralph Hoover's Jabberwocky
- Stephen King's The Dark Tower Book #1 (on Nick's recommendation)
- Robert Harris' Fatherland (which is based on a re-imagined world where Hitler had triumphed)
- Maria Hsia Chang's The End of Days: Falun Gong (cause nobody, not even Wikipedia, can explain that movement/cult properly to me)
- Robert M. Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (which I've only been looking for since I was 16! Thank you, eBay!)
-Francis M. Tyrell's Man: Believer and Unbeliever

And that is just one reason why I can never leave Australia. The cost of posting all my books to Malaysia will equate to buying a small house in India.

::edit::

So as not to prove that I'm not a total loser who spends her holiday hiding from the sun, being couped up under the covers, reading for two weeks (spank you very much, tcc):

1. I will be going to exhibit my mad fangirl-ness for Michael Cera and the other stars of Superbad when they attend the premiere of said movie on Monday.

2. I fully intend to watch a lot of movies; the Disney French Rat one, Once, The Lookout, Superbad, Stardust (yes, it warrants a second viewing), Hairspray, December Boys, The Dark is Rising, Underdog etc. J/K about the last one. Just wanted to see if you actually finished reading that sentence.

3. Go shopping in real life. I'll be the first to admit that I'm totally eBay's bitch, but nothing beats bargain shopping in real life.

4. Sort out stuff to sell on eBay.

5. Swap DVDs with friends from all over AKA spread the holy gospel of Arrested Development (as of today: 2 converted).

6. Have SMDU-reunion. I still need to discuss this with my co-planner but by hook or by crook, it will be done!

7. Going to the mountains in the second week of the break!

8. Possibly, maybe have a housewarming since official roommate is finally back.

9. Paint a whole bunch of stuff red because my room lacks colour.

10. Steal more milk crates cause my books are exploding off the ones I have now.


Oh man.

I just reread all that.

So much for proving my non-lameness. You win, Chen Chou.

Update

-Concerts these days are a funny affair. In what is supposed to be a dramatic moment minutes before the band comes on stage in the seconds where the auditorium is pitch black, the illusion is ruined by the caustic glare off camera screens, cameras off phones (LOL. Don't get me started) and flash from said cameras.

It's to be expected of course. Everyone wants memories of the experience. Technology has made it so that everyone is equipped to catch the quintessential money shot or the next best version they can get. I'm guilty of doing it myself. Yet, in the midst of snapping, reviewing and trying to figure out the best setting in such unpredictable lighting, I can only hope that people don't forget that they're there first and foremost for the music. It's great to have awesome pics for the picture book but if at the end of the night your voice isn't hoarse from screaming/cheering/cat-calling the hot bassist in the band and your arm doesn't hurt from clapping and rocking out, you did it wrong mate.


- Guaranteed recipe for disaster: Having cafe training periods on a Saturday morning from 8 am to 11 am. The trainer and the trainee are the Mentos to the unrelenting customers that make up the Diet Coke component in this metaphor. Messy, messy badness is the conclusion.

- Here's what parents should not do to enforce middle child syndrome on the kid born in the middle: Forget about them and then admitting to their mistake. If necessary, spin some bullshit excuse as to why your kid is penniless and skipping classes to work to pay rent.
Sorry doesn't pay the bills. Sorry doesn't negate the lack of attention. Sorry doesn't help with their self-esteem issues of constantly being overlooked. Also, Mr and Mrs Wong, it would help if you call and actually talk to Karen about Karen (what a concept) and not whine about the eldest or worry about the youngest. Please and thank you, love, said whinging middle child.

- Oh my god. Interwebs, beware. Angsty middle child with a blog on the loose.

- I'm also really over being mistaken for looking older than I actually am. Twenty four? Twenty four?! Come on!!

- And for Jon, because I promised you the LOLZ!11!!

Girlfriend

This is the reason why Girlfriend got stuck in my head to begin with:



Wait for the sick 'guitars' from 2:11 to 2:18. And here's the recently released lyrics so you can sing along (cause you know you just want to)!

Hey hey bro bro
I don’t like your girlfriend
No dude no dude
I don’t want her around me
Hey hey bro bro
Can’t you dump your girlfriend?

Hey hey bro bro
You know she doesn’t like me
No dude no dude
I don’t want to see her
Hey hey bro bro
I want to kill your girlfriend

Best friend of mine ‘member the times we used to kick it?
Us hanging out every day it was the sickest.
Don’t you know that if you ditch that bitch we’ll chill all night (all night, all night)
Don’t pretend I think you know we had a friendship
and hell yeah bro, I really fucking miss it
I can tell you miss it too and That aint right.

She’s like a fucking headache
So take a stand, dude for our sake
I think you should dump that fugly cow
That’s what all the guys are talking about!

hey hey bro bro
We don’t like your girlfriend
No dude no dude
She’s ruining our summer
Hey hey bro bro
can’t you dump your girlfriend?

Hey hey bro bro
No one likes your girlfriend
No dude no dude
I’m not even kidding
Hey hey bro bro
I want to punch your girlfriend

I can see the way, I see the way she looks at me
and then she turns to you and probably makes fun of me
A friend would never let a girl come between us like that (like that like that)
So come over here and say it to me, to my face.
bring your girl, I wanna put that bitch in her place
I can’t believe you would do this to the bond that we had

Cuz she’s like a deadly cancer
It really shows you who your friends are
One last chance, dump your girlfriend now
or the dudes and I are walking out!

hey hey bro bro
We don’t like your girlfriend
No dude no dude
She’s ruining our summer
Hey hey bro bro
can’t you dump your girlfriend?

Hey Hey Bro bro
think she’s cheating on you
Yeah dude yeah dude
I saw her with some guy
Hey hey bro bro
Just trying to help you

You’re a bitch, she’s got you wrapped around her finger
Dude I know, I know you really sweat her
But she’s cheating, you’re looking like a moron
Drop the bitch dude, and come and get your beer on

(repeat)

Hey hey bro bro
Glad you dumped your girlfriend
No dude no dude
You made a good decision
Hey hey bro bro
Now we can be best friends

best buds, best buds

(repeat till end)

From CollegeHumor and lyrics by Streeter Seidell.

The most random things happened on Friday

- In my Friday tute, one guy walked in wearing a vintage denim jacket. We're talking acid wash, straight from the 80s genuine vintage. The whole class agreed it was massively cool. And it was! Yet I had never been more appalled and strangely fascinated by a piece of clothing. Fashion has been going through an 80s revival for a while now. Some piece of clothings (tights), more successful than others (mom jeans). Seriously speaking though, acid wash is something no one should ever have to go through twice in their life. Unless it's at least 20 years old. Walking up to Supre and getting an acid wash jeans jacket somehow just isn't quite the same.

- Also in that same tute, someone came to class dressed in a pinstripe blue suit with Chucks on their feet and a pair of brown-rimmed classes. Much like this!


Turns out he was going to the Melbourne Uni Science Ball themed "Out of This World". I just about died when the dude pulled out a sonic friggin' screwdriver out of his pocket. That is just simply too damn awesome! Or we as a class are just too collectively geeky..

- Also for some reasons (I like to think because as a writing class, we've got to have good tastes), the majority of people in that same tute watch the same shows I watch. So after geeking out on Doctor Who, for some reason we started quoting Arrested Development. "Come on!" "I've made a huge mistake." "I'm the world's first analyst and therapist, 'analrapist'." It goes on.

- For all my talk of desperation, I ended up missing the Shout Out Louds concert on Friday. Instead, I caved to peer pressure and ended up bowling with the Maccas crew and Charm. It was amusing to see how competitive guys can get over the littlest sport. I think all that testosterone in the air made my arms a tad bit hairier.

- Right now I've got two songs stuck in my head:
Ashlee Simpson - Boyfriend
and
Avril Lavigne - Girlfriend

I could point out how "that's soooo funny" but my ears are still bleeding from the vocals while the throat is going hoarse from singing along. But it still doesn't stop. Add My Chemical Romance's "Welcome to the Black Parade" into the mix occasionally and this is what I mumble while alone:

"When I was a young boy,
my father took me into the city,
to hey hey, you you!
I don't like your girlfriend!
(no way no way)
she's ruining our summer,
WE'LL CARRYYYY ON!! WE'LL CARRRRRYYY ON!
THOUGH YOU'RE DEAD AND GONE BELIEVE ME
I didn't steal your boyfriend."

Then my mind spontaneously combusts and the horror ends. A girl can wish.

Sleeping on the job

I can now use that phrase both figuratively AND literally.

Having slept 45 minutes over the weekend, I was brain dead and zombie quick (assuming we're not talking about the Dawn of the Day remake) during my shift on Sunday. It didn't help that it was the set up shift at 5.45 am. By 6.30, I was yawning like my life depended on it. By 7, I was walking as fast as the geriatric regulars who pop in for their obligatory Sunday muffins and lattes.

Then it happened.

I actually fell asleep while making a coffee.

No, really. I did.

It was a mocha. I remember putting the chocolate powder into the cup while fighting and struggling hard against the charms of the Sandman. Then the next thing I know, the heated milk jug is burning my hand. I stopped the steam wand. Wiped the spilled milk and took a look around. The chocolate powder container had been covered and put back into place. The coffee was in the cup ready for the milk to transform it from an espresso to a latte. It was routine as usual, yet I remember none of it. Exsqueeze me, but when did that happen?!

The 40 winks shuteye was good though. After that I had enough energy to last till I was done. Anyway if I wasn't feeling a smidgeon refreshed after the too-short-to-be-called-nap, the next order of 10 standard cappuccinos sure did wake me plenty.

So yeah, I astound myself. I always knew I can sleep anywhere but standing up? That's whole new unexplored territory!

*****

In other news, thanks to Charmain of the Crazy Baker Woman fame, I got a free pass to watch an early preview of Stardust. It is so friggin' ace to watch one of my most anticipated movies of the year a whole month before it opens on general release!! And the movie? Well, to put it shortly, I fucking love it. Proper review when I get the time (and please excuse the pimpage) over here. Please hunt it down and watch it at theatres near you!

The future

At 3.43 am on Wednesday, 15 August 2007, I had a startling revelation. I knew exactly what my future held for me.

I will grow old and take up my birthright as the neighbourhood cat lady. I will be that old woman who has somehow collected dozens + many more cats in her life. My life, as I know it, will be overrun with cats.

Except because I might or might not be allergic to cats, I'll have a slightly deviated path from the token cat lady. Call me the modern cat lady. Instead of collecting cats, I'll instead have a large collection of cats of the lol variety. Y'know.. the lolcats.

Since realizing my imminent future, I've embraced it without reservations and in fact have decided now is a good time as ever to start.








Oh, trust me. There are many, many more saved on my hard disk.

Oh, Jon!

karen says:
if you don't get hungry easily now, then why did you eat so much in malaysia?
->> j o n™ <<- says:
hahahaha because that one i guess its because of the climate change