Alright, this is probably the closest thing to having my own column. So yup, I'll enjoy all the attention while it lasts...
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Let Me Pass Out
Crashed at around four this morning but barely six hours later, I have already woken up. I still feel really tired, but just can’t get back to sleep. It must be all the alcohol from last night messing with my head.
Went to Frente gig last night, and I did enjoy it even though I was never a fan of them. Some songs did bring back memories, like their rendition of Bizarre Love Triangle, which was such a huge hit back home ten years ago. I s’pose I am taking up Paul’s offer, well, not really s’pose, I mean I am going to since I said yes already. We did manage to sort out a few details but it was done over too much booze and ciggies, and discussions made in such situations can hardly be taken seriously sometimes. I wouldn’t expect too much at this juncture and will just go ahead with the plan with an open-minded. I guess I am even looking forward to moving there in a way.
I hate to sound smug, but I wish I am the one who is pissed sometimes, so that I wouldn’t have to guess if someone means what he says or is just doing crappy drunk-talk. Not just necessarily with last night, but for all other times too. I don’t like it when plans such as going away somewhere or doing something together are made at a table where everyone had a tad too much to drink. The strange thing is, these plans are usually very exciting and fun ones but they just never seem to happen somehow. These plans are either forgotten (which is usually the case) or the initial excitement and novelty just fizzled out the next day or two when everyone is sober again. Such is the down side of having a high tolerance for alcohol I guess, I am just too damn sober all the time and tend to remember too much. Also, since I am always so-called ‘the last man standing’, I have the impossible mission of taking care of the “casualties” such as dragging them out of the pub for a good spew or having to send them home and all that. Hardly the nicest job around if you ask me. It would be nice to get really pissed once in a while and be all crazy and forget everything.
It’s going to be a disgustingly hot day ahead, I s’pose I will round up a few friends to catch a movie to escape the heat. It’s the time of the year again when many good films are being released, and I have like six or seven movies that I want to watch in the next few weeks. This, in addition to my packing, cleaning, moving, shopping for furniture and daily work, how occupied am I!
I am actually feeling pretty happy now. Nope, it’s not because my housing situation has been solved, but it’s housing related though. Dropped by Jenn and Lina’s place for a visit tonight and received the good news of their successful application for a brand new apartment just a block from where they are living currently (they have gone through much shit like myself when it comes to house-hunting). They got the place at a price they wanted and the owner actually allowed them to house their two dogs as well. How cool is that! I genuinely feel glad for them. They are a couple of fantastic girls and have been very nice friends to me. They deserve it entirely if you ask me. I s’pose there is hope (and good realos) yet in this whole rental business!
As for myself, I have a few options to toy with at the moment. I am in a somewhat better position than I was last week. I could either (a) move out on my own (b) find a place with a friend of my (now estranged) flatmate (c) move in with two guys over at West Brunswick or (d) move in with another guy in Collingwood. I s’pose my instinct lies in the last option, as I did get a pretty good vibe from the place and from Paul himself. Will see how it goes, we still have several finer details to sort out, such as him being a vegetarian while I am not. Am checking out a gig with him tomorrow and hopefully something will work out. I really want this whole ordeal to be over so that I can move on to other things!
I can’t stop listening to “Someday, Someday” by Thirsty Merc (and a few other songs by them too, for that matter) and that’s pretty weird because I don’t even like them at all in the first place. Maybe because the tune is just so darn catchy and the words are not too lame either, I don’t know.
So yup, I am on my way to trying my first (major) new thing of the year, that is, to move in with a total stranger. I just hope I don’t come whinging here a coupla months down the road!
My mood is definitely spiraling downwards. I am a professional house-hunter now and my work as a scientist is just a sideline. Till I actually get a place (which I did today but they wanted me to start immediately, so I had to turn it down), it seems like that’s the role I will be assuming. This job requires a hell lot of mental and physical effort, and it does not pay at all. I hate to sound all weak and bitter and dramatic about it, but I reckon I have to be true to how I am feeling right now.
It’s funny how the tone of my entries can change so much in a matter of weeks. It was just a while ago when I was feeling pretty chilled and calm while I was back home. But then again, I was on vacation then and I s’pose I can’t make comparisons like that. Hopefully, I can return to the normal me soon when this whole ordeal is over.
Anyway, someone actually bothered to read my blog and left a comment for me. Mr/Ms Anonymous egged me on to pursue “it”, and that I know I want “it” (which is the exact phrase I will use on someone as a tease or a dare *freaky*). Oh well, to whoever this person may be, thanks for the encouragement. I will seriously consider it (in any case, at least you made me smile to myself here as I am typing this).
Just like how contrasting the tone of my entries are, I can hardly reconcile images of the current me as opposed to the me in the past, be it just a couple of years ago or when I was very much younger. The reason why I have this idea is that I came across some old pictures of myself stored in some online folder and frankly, I could hardly recognize myself in there (in all ways). If I could put those two people in the same room, I wonder what they would have to say to each other. It intrigues me to no end just thinking about this.
Somewhat halfway through the first month of the new year and ten days since being back in Melbourne, nothing seems to have changed much though. I still do the things I have been doing and going to the places that I have been going, ‘cept of course, now I have one more pretty important (and painful) thing to do, and that is apartment/flatmate-hunting. I must say it’s one thing I don’t enjoy doing, as I have mentioned before. It may sound like an easy task for some, but easy it certainly is not for me. It’s a fatal combination of finding the right place with the right price, scooting around inspecting places, fighting with others for keys and dealing with realos who are less-than-competent with a perpetual cbf-ed attitude. I hate to make it an issue but truly, this whole jazz is stressing me out a fair bit, and I have to admit I haven’t had much enthusiasm for work lately too. It’s all a bit much, and I s’pose for this time, drowning myself in work will not help at all. Although I have more than a month left in my current place, I still feel a bit panicky. Plus the fact that I will be going away for a week in February for a protein conference, I just have to try much harder.
I must say I am still in a holiday mood of sorts since coming back. I s’pose that’s pretty normal for me whenever I get back from a relatively long break, but I know I just have to snap out of that mood soon, it’s not doing me any good. I need to get my drive and inspiration back that I had before. I am trying to subject myself to new experiences in order to get some mental stimulation. I could start by looking for a place in a new suburb or sharing a place with total strangers or try to stay on my own again or try a book by a writer who is new to me. I know it takes a fair bit of courage to try taking on any of these options. Yes, even the seemingly simple option of trying out a new author. This may sound totally weird, but I have been doing Hemingway and Salinger for so long (and so often) that it’s not easy at all to get ‘acquainted’ with someone new. I need to form this bond and understanding with an author through his ideas and words in order to enjoy his works, and I can totally feel that way with Hemingway and Salinger. Hence I can re-read their books year after year (in fact, I am doing ‘Farewell To Arms’ now for the nth time after finishing Nine Stories last week) and instead of getting bored, I fall deeper and deeper into them.
Yes, I can be obsessed like that. Not just for books, movies and music (which I have mentioned countless times before, especially the aspect on music I reckon), but for someone whom I have a good feeling for too. Does that sound scary? Am I over-doing it? Or am I just a hopeless romantic? (which by the way, will be a total contradiction to my cold-bastard self). I don’t know. For once, I reckon I need someone to tell me that. A friend once told me that when I start paying attention to and believing in words in a song (which I bloody do), then that means I am done for and can be considered a hopeless romantic. Damn, could that be true? Have I changed in that aspect too? Can I stop thinking about that person? Will I have the courage to pursue it?
So I had to face up to the inevitable thrashing-out session with my flatmate last night, barely an hour after I got back here to Melbourne. I s’pose it’s alright for me (even though I was dead tired having just 3 hours of sleep the night before and having endured a long flight with delays and connecting flights and all), since we might as well just get it over and be done with. The whole session wasn’t entirely an ugly one, but it wasn’t overly polite either. I reckon I was the one who actually wanted it that way, since I am so over being polite already. After talking for more than two hours and stretching it till four in the morning, I have to say we were going nowhere but just being plain repetitive. Also, on this incident, I am not willing to entertain all the things being said about me (be it true or untrue) and I am certainly not inspired to channel any energy at all to find out the truth about anything, be it who is right or wrong, or whether the seemingly flawless friendship I have with her (up to this point) can last beyond this incident.
The bottomline is, on my part, I am willing to let it go on like this without rectifying anything and accept that all the rumours going on about me are true and all that, because I am not inspired to put in the effort to dispel any of them. It just goes to show that she doesn’t know me at all, even though she claims she counts me as one of her close friends and that she will be sad if she loses me as a friend. I s’pose I have been let down too much and been pushed to a corner where I feel totally numb and can’t reciprocate the feelings at all. I am prepared to lose this friend, however sad it makes me feel while I am typing this. Maybe I am being too stubborn to refuse her apology and explanations, but one is allowed to be stubborn when one is infuriated or hurt, and I am no exception either.
Just had a chat with a mate about this earlier, and it makes me realised how tiring this whole issue is. I should be using my strength to deal with other more significant things instead, such as looking for a new place to stay, which, by the way, is a real drag as I am still being haunted by past (bad) experiences in finding accommodations. I know I just have to bite the bullet to do it, but I am definitely procrastinating currently, which is not good at all. I don’t deny that it depresses me to no end thinking about all the issues I have to deal with at this juncture, and I certainly hope that I will not be taken to a deep, dark place again which I had been before. On that note, it scares me as much as it depresses me. I can’t even promise myself anything at this moment, as I don’t know if I can handle everything.
Maybe I should stop to get some sleep now, because I am not thinking straight at all and it’s freaking me out.
After a party-of-sorts at my place (thrown together at the last minute because of our barbeque that didn't happen due to bad weather) that consisted of too much roasted meat and alcohol, my holidays here at home have come to an end. I hate to be a party pooper to end the party just slightly after midnight, but I have to wake up in four hours to catch my flight. If given a choice, I would have spent the entire night (and morning too, for that matter) with my mates. My stupid cold-bastard self was at work once again by insisting that this party wasn't meant as a farewell for me but just another reason to eat, drink and be merry. I have mentioned this before, I hate farewells, and I can't handle saying goodbye. Even when I was walking them to the gate, I was still being totally silly by saying stuff like "see ya soon, hope you lose some weight when I see you next time", "we'll drink again soon" and "I won't miss you guys" and all that... when in actual fact, I will probably miss them like crazy and have something personal and special to say to each of them before we parted. But all I did was just standing there like an idiot grinning and all while trying to play my emotions down.
I have had a good break this time, but I s'pose there never seems to be enough time. I know I have spent a fair bit of time with my mates and my parents, but I just wish that there is more though. On that note, I must say I have done much with mum and dad within this limited period of time. I have listened to what they have to say, to understand how their lives are like all this while I have been away, to feel for the problems they are facing and most importantly, to assure them I still have them on my mind constantly (even though I am like gazzillion miles away). However, I still wish I could have done more and having said that, I must admit I am quite worried for them sometimes but I just have no clue on how (or rather, how is it remotely possible within my capability) to help. I don't want to be like my brothers who just moved out and not give a hoot to them anymore. I s'pose I really have to give that a serious thought.
One incident that really puts a damper on my mood of returning to Melbourne is the shit that I have to deal with regarding my flatmate. She pulled the whole just-to-let-you-know stunt on me regarding her boyfriend's moving in to our apartment (and I must say I'm not the biggest fan of that guy) instead of at least asking me first. How indignant do I feel?
I have to constantly remind myself that I should not get too affected by this incident because I have other more significant matters to deal with, such as looking for a new apartment and planning for my work for the year ahead. Also, I should channel my energy to other people instead of my flatmate whom I should stop caring for. Maybe we should have remained as just flatmates instead of friends all this while. Things would have been much simpler I guess. At least I wouldn't have felt so strongly towards it.
In any case, I should stop whinging and face up to it and be all prepared to go home tomorrow evening (after a somewhat long flight) to face her. I don't know how I would react if we do have to thrash it out, but one thing's for sure, she's really pushing it this time and I reckon I have had just about enough of her already.
There's a time for the new and there's a time for the old. Was going through my collection of books stashed away in the storeroom when I found a little notebook that I kept during my days in the military. It's amazing how I have nearly forgotten about that period of time, and I must say I don't remember always that I was actually a soldier once. Considering where I am based now and what my current occupation is, that chapter seems like another life altogether. Anyway, amidst the technical notes and reminders and all, I found several diary entries in the notebook. I don't even remember writting them. I must have jotted them down when I was feeling bored, angry, lonely, poetic or whatever. It's interesting how all the entries are about military stuff, which I don't s'pose I will ever find the inspiration to touch on again. In any case, I figured I should sneak a couple of entries into my blog here just for kick.
Dated 26th July 2000:
Standardisation. Everything in the army has to be standardised, even the way things are placed in the cupboard. Within the same platoon, socks have to be folded in the same way, the orientation and position of every single item (boots, rifle, helmet, field pack, toothbrush, pillow, first-aid kit and such)must be similar and even the thickness of the toilet roll in the cupboard has to be the same for everyone. Is this what standardisation is all about? Worrying ourselves with petty details like these instead of the major picture of defending our country, is that what we are here for? If strict military discipline is all about standardisation, is this the correct way to execute it? Is there much to be debated over?
It is a rather subjective point of view, and whether standardisation can be applied to daily civillian lives is another story altogether. It may seem totally nonsensical to someone who doesn't understand and appreciate it. I personally don't. I don't care for standardisation, neither do I believe in following it. If good military discipline and being a good soldier can be defined by standardisation, then there isn't really much to it. To sound more extreme, it is actually pointless to have discipline at all, if it's all about standardisation (of silly things, at that). ----------
Right, here's another one, dated 27th Sept 2000:
Rank matters a lot, at least it is so in the military. Everyone cares for ranks, and the operation of every single mission revolves around ranks. You have a say in things when you hold ranks, and the amount of things you can say is directly proportional to the level of the rank. It can be explained by an unofficial (and unspoken) rule that the higher your rank is, the more intelligent and politically correct you are. And it is due to this rule that personnel holding high ranks tend to abuse their authority and torment (not to mention torture mentally) those of much lower ranks. There isn't really any right or wrong to speak of, this is just the way the army operates. If you explore deeper, it is virtually a load of illogical thrash really. Having a high rank doesn't grant one naturally of high intelligence, which means these people should not act as though they are extremely smart or preach about their "pseudo-intelligence" to others, especially to recruits and privates. By doing so, not only are they insulting genuine talents under their command, but are reflecting badly on themselves too. No one will really respect you if you have no intergrity or the qualities of a good soldier.
There is no doubt that ranks grant superiority in the hierarchy of the organisation, but it does not necessarily grant supremacy. One should still be opened to opinions and learn to take advice. As for those who follow and respect ranks blindly, they are just as pathetic and sad. The more depressing fact is that they do not realise it at all and continue to suffer in silence. These subordinates should be despised too. No matter how strong or physically capable they are, these soldiers are the weakest as they lack a sense of individuality and a thinking mind. ----------
It's 6am and I s'pose I'll be seeing the first sunrise of the new year soon. I had a swell night, like a really swell one. I am really tired out now. Been drinking and dancing and drinking and dancing since 9 last night (or should I say, last year) till about 4 in the morning. A whopping 7 hours of conversations and beers and Tequila shots (bleughh) and ciggies and shuffling on the dance floor, now how hectic is that? But truly, it could be one of the best new year's party I've had.
A few in the group were trying to get me totally shit faced by doing shots after shots with me and were literally pouring Tequila straight from the bottle down my throat, but their little ploy backfired on themselves. They ended being the ones who totally lost it and were behaving funny and all, not to mention the inevitable act of spewing in the end. How hilarious!
Despite being so tired, I am not gonna crash anytime soon, I don't think. With the ringing in my ears (due to a whole night of loud music) and my wet hair which is drying very slowly for some strange reasons, I reckon I should read a book.
So yup, before I sign off, a happy new year to whoever might be reading this and may the year ahead be a better one in all ways.
