Week 10: This is my (new) home.

alright, as promised, photos of my new place! i really want to put up my address just so that any of you kind souls can send me snail mail if you ever feel so inclined - but i did that once before way back in 2007 and i got chastised the older-cousin way. and even though i know that the possibility of a potential stalker obtaining that information and camping outside my current home is HIGHLY UNLIKELY (maybe about 3.7% chance - i did the math), i'd as soon face the wrath and craziness of said stalker than to face the wrath of said older-cousin (you know who i'm talking about, you).

anyway, play-by-play. it's not exactly in its tidiest of states. but i figured that if i were to wait till the place was all nice and tidied up, these photos would never be taken...if you know what i mean.

begin.

so, this is a part of the living room, with views from our little balcony. that's the $23.50 dual-lamp i bought from IKEA. have i mentioned how much i love IKEA?




and this is the dining area. very spartan and minimalistic - i think the cross lends a nice touch to the atmosphere - because we usually have our meals in front of the tv. TA-DAA! you have to be a tv addict if you want to live here (no la, i'm just speaking for myself).



our little kitchen. if you can spot something interesting (and highly pleasurable - depending on how much you like it) in this photo, i will give you a surprise.



and this is my room. i'm starting to refer to it as the room of endless summers in my head because i've got photos from all my summers (and a smidgen of winters) tacked onto the walls. it's a great tool for remembering everything that i've done throughout my 3 months of four years of play in malaysia. and the best part is that the photos are in chronological order so that i can actually see myself aging with time.



the photos encircle the walls of my room. i've just got a little bit more to go before it touches the door again. anyone wants to send me photos that i can tack up on the wall? if you can spot yourself in any of the photos and correctly identify when that photo was taken, I WILL GIVE YOU A SURPRISE! i promise.



i got myself a queen-sized bed now (nyehehe!) so no more fear of rolling off the bed at night! can you see something familiar nestled amongst the sheets? sorry, this is turning into a kindergarten show-and-tell class. my room looks out to the communal courtyard/car space.



so there you have it - a visual tour of the Big H. but the photos only translate ~60% of the whole feel of the apartment, you really should come and visit to see it for yourself! it's so much better.

Week 9: I can't wait for the next blood drive now because i know it won't hurt!

i had a health check/blood test the other day! i finally gave blood - not in the extract-5-litres-for-a-blood-drive sense but more of a let's-take-6ml-and-fill-it-in-a-syringe-for-HIV-testing sense.

you wouldn't believe the anxiety i went through for the 5 days leading up to the bloody health check. i was 100% certain that the entire blood-taking procedure would hurt like a million bees with stingers extended descending upon a 1mm square area of skin...MY SKIN (i know realistically that 1mm square area of skin cannot accommodate a million stingers - but let's assume it's a hypothetical situation loaded with imagination). i was fretting the entire time. i kept asking anyone and everyone who's ever given blood or had blood taken if it would hurt. and fuck, did i get back some horror stories.

so here i was, fretting and sweating about the whole damned thing. i was so sick with worry that i couldn't even have restful sleep the night before the procedure. heeding the words of advice my cousin gave me, i drank a ton of water the night before the blood-taking as well as the morning of said event (incidentally, it was also the same cousin who told me that they couldn't locate her vein and had to rummage under her skin with the hypodermic needle before they eventually found one - that could not give blood jengjengjeng and in the end she ended up having a huge bruise on her arm).

anyway, it all went fine and dandy. the nurse found my vein in an instance (it hurt when the needle went in, but it was tolerable - i've had bigger hurts than that RAWR navel piercing etc but to be honest it didn't really hurt when i had my navel pierced JENGJENGJENG) and within seconds, blood was pumping and filling up the little syringe. it was kinda cool. i actually stared at the syringe the entire time because it was kinda fascinating. in a weird way.

actual blood is pumping through my veins! and i never realised how dark my blood was. it was like the colour of red wine - maybe just a slight tinge darker. could it be the reason why some people claim that i am dark and twisty inside? it's my fucking blood, geez, so stop discriminating against me. it's genetic ok? it can't be helped.

and all i have now is just a tiny little pinprick scar which will undoubtedly disappear within a week. perhaps i might even forget it ever existed! i wish everything was as simple as that.

Week 8: Three posts in a week? WELL DONE!

i've been feeling rather anti-social these days. can't seem to find the reason for said feelings except that maybe it's linked to a cause-and-effect of working on weekends for 3 weekends in a row. but i shouldn't complain: it's not like i have anything else better to do other than to sit around and watch tv (tv's broken now, by the way. yup. technology is closing the door on my life slowly, one electronic apparatus at a time).

besides, working on weekends = more money earned = less money spent on weekend-shopping = fatter bank account = enough saved up money to fly home to malaysia in august!

no la, i'm not flying back in august (calm your hearts, parents). it's just an idea that i've been toying about in my head quite a lot recently. plus the tickets are quite cheap (MAS lagi) so i guess it's worth a thought IF NOTHING ELSE!

ya.

STILL no internet at home. to be honest, i really don't care anymore. i get more time to do some reading (i've gone through 3 books in 3 weeks), something which i didn't do last year through lack of time and motivation plus i had other thoughts to worry and ponder in my head. i get more time to watch movies (i bought 4 dvds yesterday: fight club, trainspotting, donnie darko and the darjeeling limited, which i can't wait to watch. and ya, i haven't watched fight club but imma gonna so don't give me grief about it), and just generally catch up with everyone else on the movie scene (no i haven't watched quantum of solace, ironman, watchmen, batman begins, slumdog millionaire, SATC haih whatever la you guys name it i've not watched it). also, i get more sleep. and a healthier lifestyle.

plus, if i don't see, i won't know. and what i don't know, i won't care. and what i don't care for...well, that's rather self-explanatory.

ok well goodbye.

Week 8: You can interpret this as an explanation.

[Ed Note: yes, unfortunately most of my posts will be of the back-dated kind. this occurred on Holy Thursday. did you have a good Easter?]

Whilst I was walking home today, I came across an old man of the white hair + walking stick variety who had fallen down by the side of the road. My first instinct was to stop and help him but as I stood there, I realized that there were at least 15 people already standing. As they were already helping him up the side of the curb, I decided to walk on. I figured that since there were already 15 people standing there giving him assistance, if I were to stop too it would probably turn it into a come-and-see spectacle and not exactly a needed helping hand.

I still felt guilty though, as if I was walking away and turning my back against someone who needed my help. Plus, with Good Friday just around the corner, I felt my catholic self scream out towards me to help the poor man for the love of God!

As my footsteps brought my further and further away from said old man, I found myself turning around ever so often to check if he was still ok and if the 15 people that I saw milling around him were still there or if they’ve moved on after they realized that there wasn’t really that much excitement and novelty in witnessing an old overweight man fall by the side of the road. As expected, the 15 people had dwindled to 5 but they were still there helping the man to his feet and across the road. That was when I knew that he would be ok, and I continued on my way albeit with a lighter heart.

What is the point of this narrative? There is no point, frankly. Sometimes, you don’t need a reason to relate a story, or to immerse yourself in grief, or to disappear. Sometimes, it happens just because.

Week 8: Something that went on in Week 4.

[Ed. Note: i wrote this piece during the first few days when i was staying by my own lonesome self in the new apartment (henceforth known as The Big H for Hereford St) sans internet and tv (yea i know, i had NO TV and NO INTERNET for the first 2 days...that was my state of purgatory right there). anyway, i forgot all about it until i was going through my documents late last night and decided that i will publish it.

i'm warning you in advance though, it is boring. i was just trying to entertain myself.]

So here I am; lips all pursed, one hand on waist and the other balancing a single bed frame, staring down the end of the Daihatsu Mirage boot-space. I have a mission today and that mission is to fit said bed frame in to aforementioned Mirage. It seems impossible and I’m 83% sure that a small part of me believes that it’s impossible but that’s just me being a pessimist and life-long cynic.

After a 15-minute struggle that seemed more like an hour-long battle, I succeed in fitting all 175 centimetres into the boot-space. My mind tells me that what I have just achieved is of epic proportion and I am mentally high-fiving myself and giving me thumping slaps on the back on a job well done. It is no easy feat trying to fit 175 centimetres of something into a space that is just marginally greater in length. I have been there, I have done that and I’m telling you now.

A short 3-minute drive later and I arrive at the intended destination. Knowing that I only have one and a half flight of stairs to climb with the bed frame at the new place as opposed to the 3 flights of stairs I had to endure carrying the bed-frame down to the Mirage at the old gives me some semblance of comfort. I tackled 3 flights of stairs solo; I’ll be damned if I let a puny one and a half flight of stairs get to my psyche now. Off-loading the bed-frame is easier than I thought: I am actually mildly disappointed that it was so simple – given that it took Herculean effort to wrestle the damned thing in, it would only be fitting (and right here, I’m just thinking about its dignity, not mine) that it would take some degree of hard work to get it out. However, it slides out like a newborn baby and I guess I shouldn’t be complaining.

I size up the stairwell and begin my climb upwards. On hindsight, oh how I underestimated you, new stairwell! My pride from my previous conquest got the better of me! As I struggle to maneouver the bed-frame up the first flight of stairs, it clangs against the carpeted stairs and the back-end slams against the security door. I wince but continue my upward battle by positioning myself in front of the frame and half drag half slide the frame upwards. As I round the corner to meet the half flight stairs, I hit the frame against the railing and the most deafening sound of metal meeting metal resounds throughout the stairwell. I cringe, curse and think about the black cat I saw last night whilst crossing Missenden Rd. I knew from that moment on that my task does not come embarrassment-free. I pray that there’s no one in my block today that will hear me.

I finally make it to the front door red-faced, self-conscious and humbled. As I fumble with my keys my neighbour opens her door and greets me with a cheery smile and a ‘Hello, are you moving in today?’ while I mumbled a ‘Yes, I’m just bringing some stuff over gwnerhiwergnaeorgher (mumbling slowly tapers off – I’m tired ok, give me a break)’ to which she promptly replied, ‘Yup, I heard your bed hitting the staircase. It was pretty loud.’

FUCK.

Week 7: It's true.

Edit: VIDEO UP HALLELUJAH!

my obsession (yes, it is an obsession) with Coldplay began nearly 9 years ago when i first heard the opening bar of Yellow. something about the melody and the lyrics hit me like gust of cold wind in the gut and i was left wanting more when the song ended. for days, i would turn up the volume of the radio whenever it was played on Hitz and when i finally got Astro (and subsequently MTV and Channel V) i could finally put a face to the haunting voice that sang to me to tell me to look at the stars because they were all yellow.



it was beautiful. i was completely mesmerised. i couldn't tear my eyes away from the television screen because here was the lead singer of the band singing with complete earnestness and frank sincerity as though he truly really WOULD swim, jump, draw a line or even bleed himself dry for his love. i believed everything he said and from that moment on, i was sold.



i bought their single and played Yellow on loop for at least a hundred times in a single day. i loved it and i couldn't get enough of it. i can still loop Yellow for hours on end and find myself drifting away from this world. if you knew me well, you would know that it is my #1 all-time favouritest song.



i've watched Coldplay live twice now and each time it is a mind-boggling experience. the first time was for their X&Y tour and most recently, Viva La Vida. i can only wish that i had the opportunity to watch them during their Parachutes tour and perhaps A Rush of Blood. Parachutes takes gold and if i were at a Parachutes tour, i know it would be of orgasmic proportion and akin to reaching the highest level of the Noble Eightfold Path and attaining Nirvana. it would be THAT good i have no doubt of it.



anyway, for all you lovers of Coldplay, here's their rendition of Yellow played during their Viva La Vida Tour in Acer Arena, Sydney on March 14, 2009. that female voice you hear screaming in the background? that is NOT me.



Edit: apologies about the rather shaky video. it was really hard to keep steady because i was trying to juggle between enjoying the song, broadcasting the show to someone via my phone AND trying to warm myself up so that i wouldn't freeze my ass off (it poured torrential rain as we were making our way to the stadium and all of us got drenched from head to toe - not nice at all).

anyway, Coldplay rocks. Wooo yeah.

Week 7: Holy Echinoids, Batman! I JUST LOST A WEEK!

I AM MISSING!

ok no not really i am just missing time. the apartment is 95% up and running and i'm quietly confident that by the end of NEXT week i'll be able to show you guys around. i feel like i'm losing touch with the world outside of my current workforce and relative circles. it seems like ages since i've last talked to friends who are within easy reach i.e. you guys in malaysia and everywhere else but sydney.

DO YOU ALL MISS ME OR HAVE YOU NOT EVEN NOTICED THAT I'M NOT THERE?