Fireangel

Internal Thoughts.

February 19th, 2010

Oh my god.

I am so totally aware that I should be sleeping right now because I actually do care about being able to function at work tomorrow. But the urge to blog is just too much to ignore. So here I am blogging at 2.15am on a Thursday night. shhhh. don’t tell my boss okay. :PPPPPPP

why am i fucking blogging whenever i’m feeling extremely high ar. this is fast becoming a habit. am i turning alcoholic? do i actually creatively function better when I’m high? Wait. Don’t tell me. I don’t think I want to know. Let me enjoy this a bit longer.

I have to reiterate that the urge to blog in me is very high. Is just that I don’t have my own pc, so…. it’s inconvenient lah, which is why i dont bother.

Anyway. first thing first. clubbing in bamboo is fucking fun because the DJ plays MOSTLY danceable music. i say mostly because the fella likes to do the following which annoys the hell out of me:
1) plays a couple of songs more than once… not really complaining when he plays my favourite songs, but i don’t feel the same about other songs which I don’t quite enjoy.
2) plays karaoke-ish songs in the middle of the night. Karaoke-ish songs are only meant to be played at the END of the night lah idiot.
… other than night, fucker plays very very danceable music …… thus far.

….and a 700ml black label for 300 bucks is still fucking overpriced for something i can get for 100++ bucks got 1 litre duty free at airport but what can i do about it, eh?

anyway, random shit time, because i’m high and can say almost whatever i feel like saying:

i’m 30. time is running out, but i’m still kinda young.

i wish i picked things up faster, but i know everything takes time.

i wish i had the natural talent to speak/sell/convince because it’s so fucking relevant in life, but perhaps i will learn those eventually…. but why not NOW.

it’s true what they say about “it’s not what u know, it’s who u know”. unfortunately, my no bullshit assessment of myself is that i have neither, which means i have to work from ground zero, which sucks for me.

i know hard work counts for something but i wished i didnt have to work so hard.

i would probably go somewhere later in life, but i’m a impatient motherfucker who thinks too much so why not the hell now.

i know the fact that the only thing that is really stopping me from being truly great is myself - this might take forever to fix.

i really love to have a somebody, but right now when I’m high, i must say that it’s better being alone than settling. in general lah.

i probably want too much too soon and have too high expectations which might mean that i’ll never be happy - it’s a good and bad thing … right?

i don’t care what u think, but i do truly love to dance, but the lack of basics, and with my fucked up knees means that there’s a high possibility that i can never do it for a living.

my nieces are so cute. until they are naughty, which is when they are not cute and i’d feel like throwing them away, but the moment they are NOT naught i truly love them to bits…. until i remember what my brother told me ” they are mine yeah, not yours. get your own “. sad. u think so easy ar? tiu.

lady gaga still rocks my socks.

i can’t think of anymore.

till the next drunken post, goodnight.

Fireangel | Thoughts & Rants | 17 Comments

Of Clubbing and Dancing.

February 1st, 2010

Fuck I really want to blog more but I’m spending too much time at work and with life. Sorry. I feel really bad because I have so much to type about, but just can’t be arsed to. Anyway……

Am a little high now so may be incoherent. you’ve been warned.

I’m sure i’ve mentioned this before, but I really do enjoy clubbing.

the music. the atmosphere. the drinks. the company.

Ppl say I think too much. that I’m too uptight. that I’m emo. I care too much.

Perhaps they are right. BUT.

When the music is good, the company is right, the drinks are plenty - I am none of that.

I prance around with my hands flaying about like a monkey on heat. I say whatever without giving a shit. I wear whatever I want - cargo pants, sneakers, tshirt - as long as I’m comfortable.

So if you’re judging me on that night by how I act, look or dance - why should I care? I don’t know you. You don’t even KNOW me.

Someone once shared with me that his “me” time was when he was making his own coffee from scratch. The moment people see him making coffee, they know to leave him alone. It made me wondered what MY alone time was.

I finally figured out tonight that my “me” time was with some booze, some decent music and a dance space.

That’s when I don’t really give a shit about anything else but my own enjoyment. That’s when I can lose myself. That’s when I don’t give a flying fuck what you think. That’s when I forget about everything. That’s when I feel fucking great.

Which is why I don’t quite enjoy lengthy, philosophical conversations at clubs. Or any conversation for that matter. Don’t enjoy random guys trying to chat me up. Hate the lack of a dance floor or shitty music.

Which is also why I prefer dancing with women because THEY DON’T EXPECT TO GO HOME WITH ME.

Not saying I’m hot. Or a great dancer. But you know how it is at clubs, right?

I would dance with a guy, if he knew that he’s not getting anything from me. I would dance with a guy if he can kind of dance. Of course, bonus points if he is semi-cute when in the dark and when I’m high. But it’s all very subjective because I don’t really care about anyone else but ME during my “me” time. I’ll just do whaever makes me happy.

I sure the rest of the world thinks different but I want to go to a club because I just want to enjoy myself. I want to get lost in the moment. I don’t want to give you my number. I don’t want your name. I don’t want no goddamn conversation. I don’t want to go home with you. I just want to dance. Unless you feel the same way, just leave me the fuck alone please. Please. please. Stop wasting my time and yours.

Hello, nobody decent really wants to get laid at a Club by a random stranger okay.

At leasts not me anyway. So just leave me alone, and just dance! Gonna be okay! just dance! spin that record babe! just dance! dance! dance! dance! dance!

Fireangel | Thoughts & Rants | 20 Comments

A One Third Life Crisis In a Pear Tree.

January 9th, 2010

Blooooody hell. Last night I had the biggest urge to blog and rant while I was high but NO! Cannot! Blog had to be down. Must be a sign from Allah. Oops. I mean. God.

Happy new year all!

It feels weird being able to BE at home for such a long period of time. These past 3 week marks the longest stay I’ve had in Malaysia over the past year. When I was away for work it was mostly me, the four walls, cable tv, booze and the laptop. It was fun at first since it has been quite awhile since I have lived “alone”. Not having to layan anyone but myself. Do whatever I want, whenever I want to. But the novelty and the sense of adventure wore off after 6 months and routine kicked in. Most of the time, there was so much work to do that I end up leaving the office late, only to continue with work at home with beer in hand - because there was just nothing else to do and nowhere else to go, without having to go through the trouble of wrestling my way out of a sea of people who have nothing else to do and nowhere else to go. The only things that kept my sanity in check were my friends, and well, would you like the guess the other thing? No prizes.

Last year will also be remembered as the year I drank the most beer in my entire life. *looks at belly*

Getting flabby now. Should start hitting the gym already. Not to lose weight, but just to get back that sense of fitness. Not getting younger. Even my mum’s muscles are more toned than mine and she can carry more weights than me. A bit shameful lah, that’s all I’m saying.

Okay. So now I’m back for good, I’m like a lost puppy.

WHAT THE HELL DO I DO?

I am so out of touch with everything it’s not funny. Apperantly too many things have happened over the year. I’m out of touch with this community, my local friends, technology, hell I’m even out of touch with myself.

One really weird thing now is that I find it out that all my friends from this community are SO hooked up that every time they say/do/go/taste/smell/laugh/touch/see they update it on twitter first before anything else. -_- This phenomenon is really going to take a lot of getting used to.

So, I guess this year will the year where I jump start my own life. Get ME sorted out. Get up to speed with everything and as fast as possible.

Which brings me to something very dear to my heart.

One Third Life Crisis.

Look, it’s not fair that 20 year olds and 40/50 year olds with a life/identity crisis get to have an official name for what they are going through. Sure, One Third is not as catchy as Quarter or Half, and will probably never catch on, but hey, 30 year olds with a life/identity crisis have rights just like any 20/40/50 with a life/identity crisis do and it therefore deserves a real name damnit.

I’m turning 30 this year. Oh my god (which just in case you didnt know when translated to BM means: Ya allah tuhanku).

The big Three! Oh!

The funny thing is that whenever someone I know frets about the number I’m always telling them that it’s ONLY a number. But now when it has infected me I’m all - It’s NOT JUST A FUCKING NUMBER. I’m sweating now Not because I have the urgency to get married tmrw and operate a baby making factory immediately.

I’m sweating now because I still have naught a major achievement to be proud of in the past decade of my life. Or perhaps my memory is so damn short now that I probably had quite a few but forgotten them all because too many brain cells drowned in booze. But I digress. The point is, if I don’t remember, it didn’t fucking happen. Haha.

Someone I look up to once asked me “you don’t have really high ambitions do you?”

I’m not sure if I was supposed to feel insulted, but I wasn’t. Because this person is right. By high ambitions, he probably meant that I didn’t have that desire to climb the corporate ladder like an aggressive fire breathing dragon lady on crystal meth and having the desire to eventually take over the company and destroy a small country.. or something along those lines. Anyway, he was right. I don’t. But that does not mean that I didn’t have ambitions. It’s just that my priorities in life were different.

Then he asked - what do I want?

I want to be happy.

Then he asked again - Yeah but what will make you happy?

I couldn’t answer. Which then got me thinking - WHAT makes me happy? What were my priorities?

After nearly a year, I think I now have a vague idea. In no particular order:

1. My family. I want to spend more time with my nieces. My oh so damn cute can die got com nieces I can’t get enough of. I want to be there with them every second they grow up. Make them laugh. Scold them when they are naughty. Buy them nice, pretty things. Watch them beat me at computer games. Take them out for their first beer when they are 18. Dispense auntie-ly advise to them whenever they seek it.

I want to be able take my family out for a holiday. Buy my parents a car. My little sister a car. Dispense big sisterly advise to my sis and brother whenever they seek it. Help out with brother’s twins. Hang out with the sis-in-law. Treat the family to makans or a movie sometimes. Buy my sister nice things when I feel that she deserves it.

2. My friends. I want to have hang out with my friends more and get into all sorts of fun, stupid shit with them. Have tonnes more warm and fuzzy memories with them. Have stories about them to tell my grandchildren or at least, my nieces when they grow up. And even when we are all old and grey, still be able to have a beer at the pub, exchanging pictures stories of our grandchildren. When on my deathbed, I want to be able to reflect upon my life and say that I had been a good friend (even though forgetful and scatter brained), and was constantly surrounded with good friends and good times.

3. Myself. Start exercising again. Organise my bloody mess around the house. Start a working filing/action/scheduling system. Own a landed property with MY name on it. Get a bigger car. Go on that crazy backpack round the world trip. Start another blog which focuses on that one hobby and actually commit time and effort to come up with proper content. Update THIS blog a little more regularly because I still do ENJOY IT. Pick up a new hobby. Go for hip hop, belly dancing and pole dancing. GO dancing. Get married one day with someone who’s better than me at life and madly in love with me. Have a couple of kids. Adopt a beagle. And if I don’t get married, fine. I’ll still have my nieces. And TWO dogs. And my own place.

Funny thing about my list is that work was nowhere in it. Yet somehow I’m spending MORE time on it then I pursue the things on my list. Plus I KNOW I don’t want to eventually take over the company or anything like that. I just want to do something I enjoy doing, contribute my fair share, and work well with like-minded and awesome colleagues/employers who I actually like enough to want to have a drink with. Only a naive idiot don’t know that work IS important. Because without work = no money = no means to hang out with friends or family or do things that make me happy. Also, because of my stupid sense of responsibility I would feel nothing short of guilty if I didn’t make it a point to do a good job at my job. Besides, I enjoy it most times. It’s not perfect, but I think I can safely say that I liked it much more than my previous jobs who close friends are aware how…. strongly I feel about those.

I want to do too many things, with too little time, and with not enough moolah to go around. That whole work hard play hard saying is easier said than put to practice.

I need to find a balance that works for me. But How. How? HOW? HOW???!?!?!?!

I haven’t found the answer to that yet. Which is why I don’t feel like I’ve achieved anything, I suppose. Hence, my one third life crisis.

Perhaps time will tell. I hope it doesn’t take too long though. Because for some reason, I keep thinking that time’s running out too quickly… and the answers are still nowhere in sight.

Meanwhile, I’ll continue bumbling around, trying my best to make things work.

Well, it IS the new year. New decade. New ambition, perhaps. And hopefully new motivation.

So friends & family, please be patient.
This life is still under construction to serve you better.

Fireangel | Thoughts & Rants | 28 Comments

Home.

December 16th, 2009

The light at the end of the tunnel is just a reach away, I can almost feel it at the tip of my fingertips.

I’ve been so out of touch with what’s going on at home. With friends, family and everything in between. Like an invisible stranger peeping into a house. Only able to see, and hear what was going on inside - but not being able to be part of it. I can’t believe how many freaking awesome parties I missed out this year! Bloody hell!

There were so many exciting/new/interesting things I could blog about this year, and I was really tempted to, but I never had the urge to type it down. By the time I got home I rather pop open a can of beer and stone in front of the telly. Exhausted from spending way too much time at work. I suppose taking pictures in my mind was good enough. At least you and I know for sure that I’m not that much a hitwhore or a slave to hitmoney. And there goes all my future freebies! But that’s okay though, I still have “fehmes” friends to parasite on.

There will be parts of this place I shall always miss and wished that I never had to leave it. I’d miss the independence. A place I call my “own”. The accessibility. The not being in a jam. The safe feeling - knowing that I won’t be cheated by a taxi, knowing that there’s not a very high chance that my bag would get snatched. The bars being just 5 minutes away. The MRT just 5 mins away and taking me to places I actually WANT to go. The crazy variety of booze in the supermarket. The pretty colours of Xmas along Orchard. The no smoking anywhere accept in yellow boxes. The ~~RM2.80~~ SGD2.80 chicken rice. The ramen shops. The sake. Ice Cold Beer. The absolute happiness of finding really cheap groceries in Chinatown. Wala wala. Clarke Quay. Clean, working public toilets. Morton’s free steak sandwiches.

I could go on and on. But like Dorothy said, there’s just no place like home.

I’d like to believe that over the past year that I’ve grown as a person. That I’ve learnt more about life, about work, about myself.

The hardest part about leaving are my friends. The old ones, the new ones, the ones I haven’t had the chance to make. I was saying goodbye to a couple of them already, saying how much I would miss them… as if they were lovers I was saying goodbye to. I wish there was more time. Suddenly there’s so much I still want to do. See. Taste. Hear. But there’s no more time left.

Oh well. It was a great run.

It was great fun.

But it’s time to go home.

Fireangel | Thoughts & Rants | 22 Comments