Finger Food

I sliced the tip off my left thumb today at work. At the most inopportune moment when the restaurant was smack in the middle of lunch service. Now if I did that while filleting a side of salmon or deboning a chicken, at least I'd have something to brag about. Unfortunately, I did it while slicing bread. Yeah - b.r.e.a.d. *duh*

It's just been one of them sort of week. Nothing anyone says or does comes across as music to my ears. Everything seem to take on a whole new bleak, dark meaning.

So much for being smurfing happy.

Senandung Malam

I was talking to a brother last night at Bodega and this was what he said: Sometimes Barbs, you've just gotta take the train, even if you don't do trains.

It's taken me a LONGGGGGGGGGGGGggggggggggggggg time in arriving here. But ya know what? It's a nice place to be.

And that shall be my personal highlight of the day.

Run, Forrest, Run!

Back to School

So it's been a while since I hit the books - about 13 months thereabouts. And so, even I am quite surprise that one fine Sunday afternoon, I decided the time is NOW.

Since then, I've have found the programme I am gonna pursue, sought the consent of my folks (yes their consent) and sorted out how I am gonna pay for it. Wasn't too much of a rocket science that couldn't be sorted out and here's the final deal:

1. The University would be Monash (a Group of 8)
2. The programme would be Masters in International Business (or rather, my unfinished business from the days of UK)
3. Tthe folks were sold the minute Monash was mentioned (blame their partialiaty towards sheep and the outback), and last but not least,
4. Here's a big thanks to the Malaysian Government and the compulsory EPF contribution.

The 2nd half of this year is gonna be one of big changes then with this new wheel in motion. New job (starts 1st July), shorter working hours (in the words of Dolly - 9 to 5), weekends free (woo-hoo!) and night school twice a week.

As WhiteBoy says... Night school twice a week, L&L two nights a week, massive partying with him once a week, shag like a rabbit once a week - I'd still have one night to sleep and re-charge.

Sounds like a plan I say... hand me that backpack and my lunchbox.

Barbsie's heading back to school and can't wait!

What Dreamz II

*Lol* Talk about vivid dreams.. this was one I could do without... 15 hours on, I am finally able to laugh about it, and wonder what brought it about... Cos honestly, it's not something that has been in this head! Trust me on this one.

And well, the Bear rarely ever invades my sleep. So go figure my choice of staring characters..Have yet to tell him what it was about yet... Errr.. let's just say, I don't need him smacking me with another dinner napkin just yet *lol*

But hey - I am now able to have a good, honest (did I just say honest??), hearty laugh before I go to bed.

It's a brand new week... and hey - trust my best buddy to be the one to put a smile on my face (oh so the wrong thing to say in context here) so I can ring in the new week with good cheer.

In My Pad

Here's the best way to come home:

1. Head straight to the freezer
2. Whip out the vodka
3. Pour ya self a nice ice cold shot
4. Top it up with ya fave mixer
5. Putting the best trance tracks
6. Light one candle
7. Take off your top
8. Down ya drink
9. Light up a fag
10. Dance ya heart out without a care in the world

Works all the time - EVERY TIME!

Hey - I'm entitled to it. After the crap week I've been put thru, and I've put myself thru - I DAMN BLOODY HELL DESERVE IT!

Go on - judge me all ya want.. I don't give a rat's arse about what you or the neighbours think.

This IS Barbsie Loaded. Can you handle THAT?

I didn't think so too.

The Bag

For today... just call me Bozo the Clown and punch away. You wouldn't be the only one. You'd just be one of the many.

Go on.. it's not gonna hurt. When one gets hit that many times, one learns how to shut off the pain.

Nothing I do, will EVER be good enough. To anybody. So I think.. I'm just gonna stop trying.

I'm tired of this thing we call Life.

Closer

A good friend told me about a year ago, that I should watch this movie. I just caught it, 365 days later.

“Twisted” was what one of my old friends said last night when I mentioned it. It’s apparently one of those movies that make you wonder why the world is such, why we are such, and that everything in the movie is quite true.

And so I came home after a wonderful dinner with two old friends and downloaded the movie.

~ ** ~

It’s a holiday today. I got to sleep in a lot later. But then again, I woke up at half 4 to watch the game and to see a text message come in at quarter past 5 from Charlie.

It was funny cos Charlie comes and goes as he likes. I tried for a very brief moment to figure out what make Charlie ticks and why Charlie keeps on coming back. And then I stopped. I stopped trying to figure Charlie out cos WhiteBoy gave me my answer.

No one will ever love you as much as I do. Why isn't love enough?

I’m as perfect as anyone of them could ever ask for. I know that for a fact. I think at times, they can’t believe their good fortune on this note. And so now I ask a new question ~ at what price do I pay for being so perfect in another’s eyes?

You don't know the first thing about love, because you don't understand compromise.

~ ** ~

We sat around last night, trying to piece together a joint memory. Each one of us seemed to only recall bits and pieces of the 2 days and 1 night that we all shared together. It brings a smile to my face especially when I recall how carefree we were back then. No pretense. No excuses. No pauses.

Why do memories fade away? Why do we only remember the things we do? What qualifying criteria do we subconsciously apply when we have to free up space in our head and let go of things that we now forget?

Don't stop loving me. I can see it draining out of you.
It's me, remember? It was a stupid thing to do and it meant nothing.
If you love me enough, you'll forgive me.

~ ** ~

I’m having a late lunch with an ex-boyfriend in about an hour. We’re heading out to this suburban neighbourhood that we used to hang out in. As I said in my text to him just, “You used to try and kill me by making me walk up those hills early Sunday mornings!”

And we’re gonna talk cos in the end, he’s one of those people that I can sit and tell the truth to. One of those people I can risk bearing it all to cos he’s seen me at my best and he’s seen me at my worst. One of those people that I have said things to that I can never take back.

And I’m gonna tell him that I’m tired. That years on, I’m still tired. That I’m tired of being tired. But that I don’t know how to rest.

Everybody wants to be happy.
Depressives don't. They want to be unhappy to confirm they're depressed.
If they were happy they couldn't be depressed anymore.
They'd have to go out into the world and live.
Which can be depressing.

~ ** ~

I live for 2 days in a week.

Sundays cos I can lie in with L&L, horse around with them, walk with them by my side and hold their hands. And lately, Mondays cos that’s my name. Yups.. not Barbs or Barbsie but Monday. And strangely, it’s a name I’ve come to like.

The rest of the week – it comes and it goes. The sun rises and the sun sets. Work goes on and so does the traffic and the rain clouds. I fill them in with dinner with old friends, chill out sessions with my staff, my books and the Astro remote control.

Mondays are as perfect as days can be. Everything seems balanced and for a brief spell, I know that life is indeed a mystery. For a few hours, I know that I am a victim of Fate yet again.

How can one man be so endlessly disappointing?

~ ** ~

I think everyone seeks something in life when we almost have it all. That one big thing that eludes us most of the time. Some of us, when we find it, find that it’s not enough and we go on seeking it out. And for the rest of us, when we find it, we resist it, telling ourselves it’s not what we want and we go on.

Charlie’s text went unanswered. Knowing him, it’ll leave him pondering for a bit, then he’ll probably hit it up and drift off to sleep. That’s Charlie. Strange ain’t it? For someone I do not know well, I can bet my bottom dollar that I do know that much about him.

And in that moment when I chose to turn my phone off so he gets his answer in ways other than words, I became the Not Perfect person, without you knowing it. Just like everything else. And now I do not look forward to Mondays, at least not the next one.

There's a moment, there's always a moment,
"I can do this, I can give into this, or I can resist it",
and I don't know when your moment was,
but I bet you there was one.

I think I chose the wrong option in my moment. The very wrong option.

But then again, I think you already knew.