15 June 2004 5:21 p.m. i bought a tank top from Giant hypermart. it's white, and said, "No evidence yet - Iraq's WMD, Saddam's link to Al-Queda, White House credibility." it was the on;y one i found on the rack, btw. of course, for RM7.99, it was no surprise that some of the glitter came off in the wash. listening to Screenager by Muse is to appreciate its careful construction, and to admire the exquisite harmony of each lovingly conceived layer of music. and then when they go all mental and start shredding things halfway to hell, it's like watching a sculptor take a sledghammer to his work and hammer it into itty bitty pieces of oblivion. the "wtf?!" wears off and the act of destruction itself becomes as compelling as it was to admire the initial piece. i don't know why i insist on putting words and images to music. i guess it's my way of getting a hold on it, like endlessly turning a sculpture over and over in your hands, committing its every curve to memory and making it real and tangible to yourself.
i found the darnedest thing
what do you do when you like being alone, but don't like to eat alone?
so i'm blogging in the lab, right, and i'm eavesdropping on the conversations going on around me because i'm multi-skilled like that. i've heard nothing interesting apart from a girl not knowing how to save a document to diskette. i think there are some things you should know by the time you're 20 or so.
yes, i took down the blogspot link. i'm cowardly that way. plus, thinking of what other people think of me makes anything suck very much.
i went to the library to look for articles. archived journals from before 1970 are kept in a separate section. they are very old and very... gnawed. there is nothing romantic about old literature.
i borrowed The Left-handed Book. it's nifty. the first chapter ("The Unclean Hand") contains a passage that basically says that Sammael/Samael, the Prince of Satans/Dog Demon from Hell Boy sat by the left hand of God before he was booted and was replaced by Hugh Jackman Van Helsing Gabriel.
trainspotting fact - Sammael/Samael is related to the Hebrew word "se'mol", which means "left".
i am a sinistral (doesn't that sound cool?)!
p.s. - i'm plodding through The Iliad. the hax0r decathlon dyslexic hepatatic dactylic hexameter takes some getting used to. i'm also jealous that someone out there will soon own a hardcover copy of The Aeneid.
sometimes the world is just full of despair.
like when a second year medical student asks me what a protozoan is. come on.
other gossip - there is a student who goes to the library to download porn at night! my friend saw him and now he's stalking her! if any of us stay back late one night, we plan to take his picture and forward it through the varsity mailing system!
once, a work-mate opened a browser window in the same lab and got a face full of porn pop-up. oh, the terror she felt.
has anyone else read the reports of toxic dust coming off computers? do you think if a study on people suffeing from neurological and reproductive disorders was carried out in 30 years or so, they would find that the respondents are constant web-surfers and/or bloggers?
i also wonder how many bloggers out there are from my varsity.
10 June 2004 6:03 p.m.i think it was a bad idea to mock Venus...
apparently Madame Zorra is deathly afraid of her, Virgoans like me are afflicted by the planet and should control any errant emotions. i don't know what it means, but i guess i should stop squealing when i see Eric Bana.
also, i dreamt of William Fichtner (from Albino Alligator) one night, and the next i dreamt i was trying to cross a highway where the cars weren't going that fast but i was afraid to cross anyway. when i did take a timid step forward, they swerved to avoid me and there was a 5 car pile-up which burst into flames.
i read somewhere that dreaming of fire means change is coming. or maybe American Beauty really made an impression on me...
i don't know, but - William Fichtner! why is Thor Kah Hoong (?) jealous when others dream of Ibsen? i wish i could remember what people were saying in my dreams.
sometimes the medical students amaze me with their initiative, or maybe it's desperation. i know i wouldn't go to the pig-pen to scoop some poop.
a workmate is going to study for her degree here next semester. this makes me her senior!
i don't know why my entries suck lately. i blame it on the environment - it's just different when you're not blogging at home. but it sure as hell makes me look like a keyboard ultra-whiz type, though it gets tricky when i'm surfing sites like Rightclicklick.
hm... someone suggested a treasure hunt to me. 'fraid not. i go to OU to feed my sarky little face, is all. and maybe to get a new pair of khakis - i heard they're on sale!
10 June 2004 1:41 p.m.why can't people talk like books do?
because books don't talk - they speak volumes (ahaha) to you.
i wish that applied to us too, because i find that talking is a lot like running on the spot - much movement, but going nowhere. imagine if all we had to do was read each other's minds.
09 June 2004 1:38 p.m.look!
the blogger formerly known as silomok, but reincarnated as a lovespot drew this after reading this entry. juvenile as it sounds, i am very happy (but because you aren't considered an adult in the eyes of the law, i am not allowed to touch you, fnarhahahar).
i spoke too soon
the computer froze just as i was typing this entry.
as i was saying...
dear Semi Value,
stop being such a fucking idiot and asking Rangkaian Segar to "investigate and rectify" the causes of toll plaza congestion when their monopoly contributes to it. it takes less time to drive through with a Fastrak tag (which i have) than it does to touch and go. did i mention that Fastrak didn't need to offer discounts to sell its tag because it didn't cost RM180 post-20% discount? all the discount will do is make people angry because they think you're mocking them and that they're somehow subsidising your hairplugs. everyone knows they're fake anyway, so come off it already.
no love,
ItchyMicchi
08 June 2004 6:12 p.m.things that didn't fit in anywhere else
i was reading Cleo, and they had a bit about being confident about your body. it was interesting and inspired confidence. and then i flipped to the next page, and a fashion spread stared me in the face, mocking me for not having twiggy legs. fuck you, Cleo!
i don't blog about work because it stresses me. for instance, after staining and screening hundreds of samples, with repeat screenings still pending, i found out that there are 20 more samples that i haven't touched. it may not sound like a big deal, but it takes at least 3 days to deal with and i'm the sort of person who wants things done in one day.
i was ill the same time i went on holiday last week. i don't like telling people i'm ill because it opens me up to a lot of "poor you" bullshit. it's not as if they can do anything for me. i don't want words of comfort, give me lots of Eric Bana pampering, dammit.
Friendster is lame. well, its bulletin board is. i hate reading things with half-assed ellipses (".." instead of "...") and bloody forwards. i get enough of that in my e-mail. i also see that one of my friends has a user pic of Hector. she has very good taste.
i'm blogging from campus - it's freezing and my fingers don't seem to work properly any more. wouldn't it be freaky (and wishful thinking) if someone came up to me and said, "you're ItchyMicchi?"
speaking of celeb blogs, why would one read one? here's one. captain hoof indeed. is he a dancer? or a footballer (american "football", that is) turned actor? hm...
i didn't see the transit of venus. it won't change my life in any way, so why should i care? of course, i'm hoping my life will take a sudden and dramatic turn after i mock the gods, heheheh.
08 June 2004 5:35 p.m.why i shouldn't blog until my day is well and truly over
yesterday, i had to go to the optician on the way home, and when i'm tired, sometimes i do or say things over which i kick myself when i am more coherent (i can so be coherent). so, i approached the counter, and when the woman looked up, my subconscious squirmed to the surface, and when i opened my mouth to speak, Rachel Friends slipped out.
"hi, like, can you, like, get me a new screw for my glasses? the old one fell out."
i was horrified, but it was pointless to repeat myself. in fact, i think i would have sounded even stupider. come on, i don't even watch the series, so where the hell did that come from?!
i understand that such an accent would a god-send for some people, but i can't understand why i had it. it made me sound annoyingly nasal, obnoxiously patronising and appallingly shallow, all at one go. it's the kind of accent i always deride when i hear it on radio or wherever because it's so fake. is this what they call karma?
i wasn't charged for the new screw. maybe they saw how shell-shocked i was.
and then i went home, and in the 10 minutes that my pc managed to stay switched on, i read Jikon Lai's blog and felt more depressed. there's nothing more loathsome than something you loath being a part of you (kinda like how some couples would feel, i think).
it wasn't the end of it though - i flipped through the newspapers later and saw a picture of Brad Pitt in a most arresting pose - an upskirt shot on the cover of the Italian Vogue. it was like a page out of FHM or something, or i really need to start buying different female mags.
of course, the jaw-dropping and screaming (and it was only a black and white pic too...) had to end when i remembered who he was married to.
not only that, my depression deepened when i channel surfed and caught the tail-end of a J.Lo video, and i remembered who she was married to. how could Marc Anthony do that!?
