much ado bout nothing. again.

somethin is brewin and stirrin within me bones.. a naggin feeling... a strange sense of realisation..

oh. right. does anyone knoe when school is starting?

after 4 months of doing absolutely nothing (that's how hols shld be spent, all u overtly industrious worker bees out there), tis the time when all good things come to an end, and another year of bad canteen food, bad hair days and bad test results commences.

whoop-de-doo.

**

once upon a time, miss mindy was deliriously entranced by the dangerously talented jap rock band - L'Arc~en~Ciel. havin chanced upon their song Heaven's Drive on 96.3fm on a fateful night, thus began her wild days of collecting ridiculously expensive albums, concert vcds, magazines and other assorted fan merchandise. she'd blast their songs way too loud on the stereo and believed that some day she'll marry the lead singer Hyde.

after 4 bloody long years of waiting for their new album, the time has finally come. behold, L'Arc mania!

my obsession 

bora bora

after watching my fave programme on discovery travel & adventure (A Cook's Tour), i've decided that my greatest wish would be to watch the sunset upon a sand dune in the Sahara desert.

add that to the list of other Greatest Wishes, which include: 

•  visit the Louvre and British Museum (that'll take forever) 
  
•  explore the Egyptian pyramids and steal a mummy baby 
  
•  check out the ancient ruins of Athens and pretend that i'm a Greek Goddess 
  
•  shop for a whole month in Bangkok 
  
•  spend the rest of my life in the caribbean or french polynesian islands
• ride on a sampan along the treacherous rivers of the Amazon, right into the heart of the jungle. at night.

etc etc etc

the simplest pleasures are often the most enjoyable. like, i've discovered that i can buy a big bottle of almond syrup for barely 2 bucks and make a great-tasting almond drink for myself anytime of the day. it reminds me of childhood. really old-school. and i also like to eat cold banana with peanut butter.

does anyone have roald dahl books to sell? i'd like to collect em all. BFG, Witches, George's Marvellous Medicine. i can read em over and over again. they make me very happy indeed.

edward scissorhands

after this post, i reckon i'll be crowned as THE obnoxious, socially-inept, hoity-toity bitch.

then again, wat's new?

i simply loathe the blog shrines set up by some of my fac mates. shrines dedicated to worship and glorify the supposed 'handsomeness' or 'cuteness' of certain individuals in their cliques. like, 'oh mi gosh so-and-so is soo cute! i love u! can i be ur gf??' messages on the tagboards. or childish teasing like 'oohh s0-and-so likes so-and-so!'

and i haven't even started on the hopelessly boring entries yet. gag me with a spoon. i'm gonna retch.

this is really none of my business, i know that. u love ur frens. ladida. happy-hoo-hey. ~~**:)))

but i'm gonna express my distaste all the same. hah!

yes yes i'm just jealous that noone's setting up a website to honour my existence. that my frens don get together, hold hands and sing in a circle. that we don't call each other cutesy nicknames, giggle breathelessly and tAlK aNimAtEdLY lIkE tHiS~~o_O. (i spent 5 mins trying to type that out.)

duh.

nuff of this. i'm going to do something less gross. like catch a lizard and have it for lunch.

grandiosity

it isn't often that i have a nightmare. but when i do, i can still feel the tremors the next morning.

last night, i dreamt that i was sitting for my grade 8 piano exam. all over again.

the nauseating clutch in my tummy. cold clammy hands. the sheer helplessness of it all.

and that's why i haven't touched the piano since i took the exam. and passed it, of course.  albeit right on the dot.

so that would be like, 2 years ago?
and after this nightmare, i think we can add another 20 years to my abstinence.

evrytime i walk past the piano in the living room, i still tremble with fear.

see, nightmares do have a profound effect on me.

ladies night

there's this thing bout people approaching each other on a hot sweaty dancefloor and asking the most inconsequential question of all:

'hi miss/dude, can we be friends? can i have ur hp number?'

uh, NO.
 
now why am i being such an intolerable skank bitch? here, let me tell u why.

1. it is a dancefloor. it is meant for dancing.

2. u don't make 'friends' at a club. u can go to the community club to do that.

3. how do u converse normally while screamin into each others' ears trying to drown out the pounding music. beats me.

4. u are only trying to score with the chicks, u twerp. don take us for foolish little girls anymore. 

that aside, i really like the camaderie amongst fellow 'clubbers' (ew, i hate that word). u knoe, when evryone's having fun and singing along to the songs and -gasp- doing the same synchronized Mambo actions. now that's  pure silly fun.

talking cock with strangers is very amusing as well. take last night for instance. for some weird reason this dude just started screaming into my face and i screamed right back with gusto. like some prehistoric tribal call or somethin. then the ridiculous conversation began.

'hey, u wanna come to my church tomorrow? i'm preaching u know?'
 
'u're a pastor? wow. so how do i address u. Father what?'
 
'oh i'm Sir John Paul Pope the Second. yeah u can call me that. do u knoe why i'm here?'
 
'haha no. why?'
 
'God sent me here to save u mannn!'
 
'really? so how do u suppose you're gonna go about it?'
 
'oh i'll have to stand here, talk to u and get into ur brain for the whole nite. and the first and only thing u'll remember when u get up tomorrow morning will be me. now ain't that cool?!'
 
'yeah yeah. i think u're a cult leader aren't u! u're a heretic!'
 
'alright u got it man! u're in da club! gimme five!'

**

it gets a lil more nonsensical after that. when he started telling someone else that he just got married that night with my friend, or when we said hi to people we knew the whole bunch of them started screamin hi with obscene enthusiasm as well.

it's all in good fun, really. and the best part? we go bout our separate ways when the night ends and there's no duty to keep in contact. frivolous, perhaps. but it's appropriate interaction for a nightout at a club. when the party is over, that's when reality shld hit us in our faces.

so, my point reiterated. u can all stop pretending to be dead serious bout developing a serious friendship with that hot dude/dudette u spotted at that corner of the dancefloor. cos it's nothing but feeding each others' egos and physical attraction tinged with a hint of lust. or maybe for some, it's just pure lust.

**

i do not see the point of being able to change colours of my text while blogging. it irritates me to no end. all these frills.

wouldn't it be nice

i have a dream.
 
a dream of being in the sweaty moshpit, screamin my heart out, with hot tears running down my cheeks leaving chic mascara stains, stretching out my arms in passionate desire...
 
someone please fly me to an Aerosmith concert before i turn 25 and have to start slogging my life away in the hospitals. before mr sexy lips Steve Tyler has to resort to collagen injections to maintain his beestung pucker. before oh-so-gorgeous Joe Perry gets arthritis attacks on his zippy fingers and cannot ravage the guitar anymore. before the rest of the members (wat are their names anyway) lose all their hair and eventually die of too much sex, drugs and rock n' roll. 
 
as u can see, we haven't got much time to muck around. so, do hurry and save up now.

i always get my Big P when i wanna go clubbin.  wonder wat's that all about.

old devil's moon

that day on the bus, it was cold, rainy and dirty.

the aircon above me was leaking like an incontinent crank. i was surrounded by three rowdy angmoh skater boys who seemed to take pleasure in kicking their skateboards very loudly and converse with such wild abandon. their flying accents confused me.

next to us was this China couple. they were staring at the reckless angmoh boys with such fascination u'd thought they had never seen some before. i could see it in their eyes. bemusement, mixed with a generous dash of haughty disdain and disapproval. perhaps it's an asian trait. some pride issue. that we believe we're always more civilised and better behaved than those angmoh devils.
 
**

i kept my eyes straight ahead away from the theatrics of Life around me and there he was, the pudgy acs pri boy. there he was, mixing some kind of clear, gooey, mucus-like substance on his fleshy palm. he sniffed it abit, swirled it around and spread it aross his digits, leaving strands of goo across them. he waved that abominable hand about, and grinned like a cheshire cat.

then it happened. with an ominous rumbling, my vomitus spewed out like a geyser, totalling an awesome 6 feet in height. a spectacular sight. it showered rude blessings upon the angmoh kids, the china couple, the icky boy and splattered a few unfortunate passengers. they froze in sheer shock, bulging eyeballs and mouths agape and all.

i wished they'd move more abit, cos not before long my vomitus congealed under the shining sun (which had come out by now), sealing them in their vivid expressions for eternity.

i took a curtsey, got off, and pranced home gaily.

sugar sugar

my most recent (serious) resolution is not to badmouth/gossip/rant bout people behind their backs. cos more than anyone else, i've learnt my lesson the hard way. even if they seemed like normal, mindless, harmless conversations. not when i got my ass kicked and face scratched by talons and all.

interestingly, God has a divine way of putting across the message to me repeatedly and very clearly. first, it was the revelation during church camp. i saw how i was being hypocritical and unconstructive when i did the most girly thing to do - sharing a piece of juicy news bout someone else with my girlfrens. u knoe, girl bonding and stuff.

then i watched Mean Girls, which was the ultimate wakeup call. cos when i realise i could identify with some of the skank bitches in the show, that wasn't the most delightful feeling, believe me.

lastly, i actually watched the O.C tonight (which i wouldn't have done normally cos i think it's just another pretty show with a pretty cast). mainly cos there was the slightest notion of homosexuality in it. but it turned out that the real message was how not to divulge someone else's secret and betray their trust. cos when u let the cat outta the bag, u can be pretty damn sure that the cat's gonna run all over the place.

so the point is, the problem of the gossip victim ain't solved when we bring it out into light and 'discuss' bout it. no matter how therapeutic it feels. for us at least. cos most of the time, our real intention is to brag bout how much we knoe bout other pple's monkey business. which really isn't our business at all. or we just wanna be part of the crowd. to fit in. especially in Girls' World, it's hard to stay in when u've got nothing to share. then again, such friendships aren't really worth keepin anymore, innit.

so go on. spread the word. burn the gossip columns. achieve world peace.

pretty world

it has come to a point where i feel that some things, if not most things, are better left unsaid. nothing really annoys me anymore. neither am i disturbed quite as easily by the pple and stuff that's happenin around me.

wat used to be a safe little haven for me to rant and bitch is nothing but an obliging responsibility now. furthermore, problems are not resolved in reality if they're just merely put down in words.

so perhaps i'll pen a few thoughts now and then. aferall, u know how i handicapped i am at bloggin bout daily events.

the most important thing that i've learnt thru blogging is not to take things personally.

so, if u will excuse me, i am off to face my real life outside of this computer monitor. and perhaps, u shld too.

to kill a king

i have a very swollen left lower eyelid due to unknown reasons. it itches and is causing a dull pain on my cheekbone. tearing uncontrollably as well. if it happened on my right eye too, then i can pass off as a sleep-deprived heroin junkie with giant eyebags. unfortunately, i look too freaky now and have decided to quarantine myself till further notice.

i watched CSI and CSI Miami, my most fave shows on earth. (sometimes Oprah Winfrey comes close - as guilty pleasure). i am feelin exceptionally depressed and freaked out cos the episodes are based on real cases. and that just shows how terrifyingly morbid and perverted pple can be. and now there's CSI New York. wat's next, CSI Mississippi? now that's a funky name.

i onli do a few things when slackin at home - switching channels on the tv, munching any type of food found around the house (which is of bare minimum in my household), voyeuring in cyberspace, and taking frequent trips to the loo. so much for being purposeful and productive. maybe i shld take up yoga. then i can put my very Zen-like, spacious marble floors to good use.

i feel very bad bout my dad havin to work so late evrynite, and all he gets is a half-hearted 'pa, goodnight i'm going to sleep' from me as a welcome greeting. then he's left on his own in a dark, quiet house with noone in the family to talk to. except God, whom he seeks and prays to without fail evryday.

i hate it when pple are over-sensitive and suspicious. when they're so concerned bout how pple view them and their lives. sometimes, it's better to be ignorant. it is bliss. life is much easier that way.

i have nothing else to reveal. u can take ur leave now.

harder to breathe

i was having dinner with ma and sis at the hawker centre when we chanced upon this queer couple a table away from us.

the girl was sprawled across the guy's lap, appearing to be either asleep or deeply unconscious. the guy looked extremely lethargic as well, with his heavily-lidded eyes and painfully sluggish movements. he just kept on downing beer and smoking his cig with shaky hands.

by this time there were a few people surrounding them, askin the semi-comatose guy if they were okay or somethin. moments later, the girl finally got up from her reclined position. her face was deathly pale and lifeless. she could barely support her head's weight and struggled to open her eyes.

the couple was still wildly oblivious to the curious stares around them. it was as if their souls had gone on an escapade to galaxies lightyears away, and had left the empty shells behind on planet earth.

disturbing, indeed.

"scum of society. no hope. useless. bloody stupid drug addicts."

funny how we're driven by desires and led by temptations. it feels so weak not to be able to resist, yet there's a certain power in doing wat our hearts tell us to.

there's never an absolute explanation for the seemingly foolish choices we make out of our own free will to hurt ourselves. most of the time, it's just us and the consequences in the end.

"who are u to judge if the choices are 'right' or 'wrong' anyway? how would u knoe if we regret wat we've done? the lives we have, we own... u will never understand."

when even ur own family and frens give up hope on u, u can be sure that evryone else will be secretly relieved when u spiral deeper and deeper, and just fade away into oblivion, out of our sights forever.

---

i saw two people. lost, confused and vulnerable. their cries for help, ringing loud and clear.

heaven's kitchen

u knoe, i was just thinkin, how different is seastreeturchin from popdacherry? obviously there is a noticeable change in approach. less bitching. less holier-than-thou antics. less interesting, perhaps.

i was hoping for some feedback from my readers, but wat am i thinkin? i never got anything much. and when i did, all i got were the usual responses from the usual readers - sam, xx, occasionally joe and other assorted frens. like, boring.

at least i used to have anonymous pple either worshipping the ground i walk on, or spouting highly murderous insults in an attempt to eradicate my existence and shut my stinky mouth up. -grumbles-

hello mindy-the-Ingrate-cum-Blurcock, u were the one who wanted to choose the pple who could read seastreeturchin, remember??

oh. u're right. security and seclusion was wat i opted for, instead of the past rebel-without-a-cause, livin on the edge kinda lifestyle.

and just for the record, i do appreciate my present readership. i was just kidding. u knoe that right.
-nervousgiggles-

maybe i just can't be bothered to bitch bout evrything and evryone else in between heaven and hell anymore. sure, it was fun in the past. but now i'm more interested in... uh. watever i'm interested in blogging at the present. bitching for the sake of it is so passe.

i'm growing old.

tonight my kakis are counting on me to make the correct prediction of portugal VS greece game. apparently cos i foretold the fate of the semifinalists in an uncannily accurate way. now i'm a bundle of nerves. maybe i shld just admit the truth. that i'm actually the mistress of the Mafia boss, the game results were rigged and i knew beforehand.

or maybe i shld just hide myself in a cave till it's all over.

cannot wait for the final game to be over and done with. my sleeping pattern is absolutely in crumbles right now. on nights without soccer to satisty my insatiable desires, i'd stare wide-eyed at the tv screen and expose my brain to inane, repetitive infomercials trying to brainwash me into buying useless stuff like bubble bath mats and ab machines. this would continue till the unearthly hours of 4 am without fail until i'd drift off into slumberland automatically.

i wonder who the targeted consumers are. probably lonely folks with empty lives and change to spare on purchases which promise to spice up their hopelessly boring existences. shesh. the things pple do to try to make their lives complete.

thick as thieves

ever realised that the male species is not exactly portrayed in a favorable light in drama serials these days?

just in one 9 pm chinese drama serial alone, we have:

1. a doctor who made a mistake on his job, gives up on himself, and deserts his fiancee.

2. a good-for-nothing husband who allows his mother to bully his wife and son, and not daring to speak up for them.

3. a convicted man who chooses to hang himself in jail, leaving his wife, daughter and sickly father to fend for themselves.

in short, men are bloody escapists. in the shows at least. the spotlight shines on the women characters instead, who clean up the mess and pick up the pieces. they raise the kids, grow stronger and lead better lives.

a strategic move to garner more female viewership since Girl Power will be an ongoing movement for the next few centuries at least? possibly.

obviously there is a general lack of truly manly characters for women to go googoogaga over. even Spiderman has his less-than-heroic moments when he dumped his superpowers - for a girl, no less.

perhaps it's a trend thing. u knoe, metrosexuals. that a certain amount of sensitivity and vulnerability in men is very much appreciated by the alpha females of today.

yes we love sensitive men. men who are not afraid of being honest bout their weakness. but we are not crazy over men who are unable to accept failures and pick themselves up again. men who give excuses for evry mistake they make. for example:

"oh u were so busy with the kids and ur job u didn't have time for me so i had to find another fuck before i go out and rape somebody on the streets. i was lonely! i couldn't help myself.."

"i know that i'm a coward but i just can't face it anymore. i'm sorry but i think i'll spare u more agony by leaving you..."

"i only wanted to make more money to provide a better life for u and the kids! u think i wanted the stock market to crash? it's all the traders'/God's/evryone else's fault!"

that's... very encouraging.

in any case i'm just stating the fact that's shown in most drama serials. all u MCPs out there, u can stop conjuring brilliant lines to get back at me already. i am NOT a men-basher.

i still believe that we have decent, responsible, strong-willed men out there who are capable of carrying burdens upon their shoulders. i respect them. but ladies we shld bear in mind that we have only ourselves to depend on at the end of the day. ditch the fantasy that ur man is going to face all the shit for u. cos it ain't gonna happen.

gender lines are blurring by the minute. women aren't behaving the way we're expected to - feminine, submissive, good cook and fulltime mother. so maybe it's only fair to expect less of the men as well. since we're all so goddamn stubborn and refuse to give in to each other anyway.

delusions of grandeur

the 3 songs i want to play at my wedding:

Make It With You - Bread
We've Only Just Begun - the Carpenters
Always - Atlantic Starr

the last song will be a duet sung by my future slave... i mean hubby. and me. it will be the very picture of matrimonial bliss.

i've thought of this list since sec 1. strangely enough, my selection has not changed since then. perhaps i shld add the You & Me Song by the wannadies for kicks.

then again, i wonder if i will hold a wedding just so that i can sing those lovely songs. to wear a vera wang gown. to cut a pretty multi-tiered wedding cake. to exchange nice diamond rings.

maybe it'll just be easier to throw a Wedding themed party. then i can be 'wedded' to many different husbands thruout the nite. also, i will throw many such parties of various wedding themes. (mongolian/indian/hawaiian etc) we will have so much fun.

wat's more, they also serve as a source of emotional comfort for my frens who are Single and Desperate and crave to have a taste of being a bride/groom. i'd like to realise people's lifelong dreams to get married. even if it's just for one night and they don't get to keep their spouses.

moving on to another story.

perhaps i am a loner in some ways. i like to:

gym alone
stay at home alone (without communicating with anybody)
watch tv alone (yes, even soccer matches)
watch movie/perfomance alone
study alone
etc etc.

but i stress that there are only certain activities that i prefer to be in solitude while participating in them. feasting, for example, has to be a lively group affair. mainly because my frens tend to order a wide variety and of large proportions, but always end up not being able to finish their food. they're also rather particular in wat they ingest.

which is always delightful cos then i can finish their leftovers. it is good that i am not nit-picky in wat i eat. i am easy to rear. feed me anything and i'll take it.