waiting for my rocket to come

all i do is sleep and when i'm awake, i feel sleepy. i just had a 6 hour nap and it was so odd! i thought i was awake and walking aimlessly from my room to the living room and back again. but apparently, i was snoring away on the couch the whole time! and my specs and handphone mysteriously appeared on the floor, which is nuts because my mum has successfully drilled the 'no stuff on the floor except chairs, tables and rugs' litany into my little head.

on a normal day, i can't even think straight! it's like i'm in this state of near-drunkenness where my arms feel like a separate entity and it takes me a second longer to process conversations.

and i have semi-flu symptoms everyday of the week.

i think i'm going to die, man!

ps: should i drop dead and its a deadline week, please help me to hand in my assignments to the respective pigeon holes and digital dropboxes.

pps: i dont have a will. oh. please sell my shoes on ebay. some of them have never been worn. (dont touch my maroon pointy heel thing. bury me with them) please use the money to buy an awesome urn for my ashes. i don't want to be in a crematorium where my ashes get slotted into some brickwall with the inscriptions fading into oblivion over time and no one is allowed to bring real flowers in. BORINGGGGGG.

ppps: i don't want wreaths ok. i just want plenty of sunflowers at my wake. i think they're awesome. roses are pfffffffffffffftt, even more so with lilies and carnations.

pppps: die die philip must sing ok. something from APC. I DON'T CARE. no jazz at all. and he must give me an excellent eulogy WITHOUT any grunting and snorting.

pppppps: the girls must go to the toilet and cry.

ppppppps: every fortnight, an appointed person will need to converse with my urn so that, by some warped stroke of genius, the person might be able to decipher what little nuggets of random garble i muttered in my lifetime.

thats it. back to scripting. boringgggggg.

let me paint you a pretty picture. hahahahahahaha

ok so i'm looking at the post before the last and i'm wondering, what on earth did i eat to make me ramble what i did that day? because i'm happy today. and fuck you if you hooray-ed at the thought of me not posting anymore. it will never happen in this lifetime or the next. i've tried it at least 3 times and it just never happens.

you can say that i've finally come to terms with myself. yeap. that's it. can't take the good without the bad, right? i say, its my 'bad' that makes me who i bloody am! so there. ROAR.

1. i am anti-social. i don't have a compelling reason for me to make friends.

2. the things i say are totally irrelevent at the right times.

3. i will always have flab around the tummy. no amount of exercise and healthy eating will correct that. all it ever does is make my boobs smaller. dammit. bring on the fucking cadburys!

4. i have the tendency to embarrass myself at least thrice a day, unintentionally. yes. sometimes i intentionally embarrass myself so that i can LMAO.

5. i am a total attention seeker. even when i'm silent. hey!

6. i have a big ego but STILL have insecurities. like my hair, for one. and my dark eye circles.

7. i don't have baggage. i was just born cynical. i haven't led a sad life neither am i living one at the moment. ok maybe on a bad day it gets quite morose.

8. i am a bitch. everything i say, do, NOT say or NOT do is meant to belittle you in my own little, subjective way. it may seem innocent and not at all obvious but deeeep down inside, i like to feel superior. even if i'm not as smart or not as pretty or not as whatever. monsters survive that way. its either that or i openly take over the world and make everyone kowtow to me. lesser of two evils, man. be thankful.

9. i laugh one-kind. so much so that it becomes synonymous with my reputation. cat= the one who laugh so fucking loud, i don't want to be in the same room as her.

10. i am actually quite calm. if i ever have a fit its only because the situation calls for it. not because i am panicking. even my "oh fuck fuck fuck" is something along the lines of a conditioned reflex, but not really. i don't have to think. i just swear like hell when something supposedly negative happens. but my heart never ever beats fast and neither do i feel like fainting or whatever it is you feel like when you're in deep shit.

11. while i don't panic, i do get angry. very easily. 'nuff said.

12. i bite my fingernails and i have a feeling i'll die from keratin ingestion just like how that girl died from eating her hair. i wonder how it'll feel like. will i feel pain? will i just collapse and die sprawled on the ground in an unglam manner?

13. if you haven't noticed, i'm quite lohsoh.

but i'm not THAT bad. for every negative habit i have, there's always 4 positive things about me. yeah. i am that great. kowtow loh.

tired. uninspired. unmotivated.

see, my name is gramma funk, ya'll

but anyway. it's gonna be a busy sem. alot of things not going my way, but alot of other things falling nicely into place as well.

can't take the good without the bad, eh?

its a price.

i reckon i wont be posting much here in future. i'd only be whining, ranting, remarking all at the same time, so much so that this... space... is being misused as a little peekhole to my angry side. even after i swore a whitewash. no pictures some more siah. macam The Cat Litany of Survival like that siah.

my blog's bias. and this isn't a fair representation of me. i'm not such an angry person. neither am i wistful and fragile. neither am i tough. neither am i confused. neither am i needy. neither am i independant.

i am cat because i am not alot of things.

i guess for a whole load of us, what we don't show would be what we truly are. but i am naive like that.

i'll just be where i am. laughing at you laughing at me, keep my own counsel as much as i can. snort.

WAAAAH CAT, SO INSIGHTFUL SIAH.

yeah lah. i growing up what.

AH, TALAGA!

i'll cut to the chase.

i should've said something appropriate, not laugh it off.

i'm regretting it terribly and if i do make you feel small and unimportant, i apologise. because that was exactly my motive. at that time, at least.

see you after forever, okaaaaaaay?

i'll miss you, too.

oh-hokay

i don't get it, ah.

el cheapo. i mean, la cheapo. i mean, la cheaparista.

bloody hell. my nose has enlarged pores and sooner or later, they're gonna turn into whiteheads and then, they'll turn into The Dreaded Blackheads.

time to get myself those biore pore pack, was what i told myself. so there i was at guardian, faced with the biggest life-changing decision of all: to get the BLACK biore pore pack or the WHITE one. i mean really, the black one was 45cents dearer. so i thought, heeeeyyyy maybe it works better cos its BLACK. maybe there's like some super power BLACK potion in the BLACK biore pore pack!

i took ten minutes poring over the details of both types and i'll bet you wouldn't believe what i found out. the BLACK pore pack was better because you could see your peeled blackheads/whiteheads on the strips clearer.

my sentiments exactly. WHAAAAAT DA FUUUUUCCCCK.

45cents more just so i can see those abominations CLEARER. SIAO. why would i need that for? to keep track of the weekly accumulated dirt in my pores? the fact that it's harder to make out a BLACK head against a BLACK background totally defeats the purpose. like, totally.

ok, so maybe it works for gothic chicks/gothic dudes. like, the world is a cold dark place, yo. i have a black strip covering the tip of my nose. oh, how the blackness mirrors my bleeding heart. nil esperandum, be miserable, i miserable.

suit yourself lah.

45 cents is not alot. but i'm el cheapo ok? and paying a little more just so i can see my pores clearer? its like making me buy a pack of cigarettes and telling me i need them cos then i can see how much air i've inhaled and exhaled, keep track of my lung capacity and, maybe, detect any bronchial abnormalities early.

kena suckered, man.

that's why i love marketing. BLARGH. BLARGH, BLARGH! HONK.

it cannot not end

rotting was never a positive activity (ok, fine, inactivity) and i'd better do something before lard settles at my bottom.

finally decided to sit down and tinker with fruitloops studio demo version. cheated a bit by playing samples and then working backwards, opening up the channels and looking at the settings. quite fun but i got bored. its just out of interest lah, the whole, if they can do it, why can't i. i reckon i could do it if i had enough interest, had someone explain the jargon and crap and if i spent lesser time watching supernatural-themed animes. haaahahaha. i know. i know. but its not unlike me. i've always found hantus, demons and vampires fascinating. i know its not true. ok, i hope they're not true. but i just like lah cannot issit.

i found out the designers taking part in the 4th season of project runway, out of curiosity. i thought the 3rd season was the best and most distinct, in terms of personality and taste. i'm not expecting much from season 4 cos most of them are experienced and the youngest, christian, 21, already showed off a small collection during london fashion week. macam no underdog to root for lah.

but that's it. i'm trying real hard to finish up this project i started myself few weeks back. but i somehow end up procrastinating and changing my ideas. i need to focus.

focusing as of.... now.

probably.

message in a bottle

wahlau. 10 o clock already. table 11 still haven't leave yet?!
aiyah. we got workers party, people party whatever party party. now they wanna make women's party, mah. tomorrow morning also won't finish gossiping one.

HAHAHAHA THAT ALWAYS CRACKS ME UP MAN.

okie dokes. its a monday morning. good morning. selamat pagi. i am wiiiide awake at 8 plus in the morning because i wanted to see if short was kidding about the energy boost stout gives you. downed half a can of stout and washed the goddamned bitterness with red bull.

and now, i'm wide awake. short was right. whether my whole alertness was due to the stout is questionable. i did drink red bull afterall. oh well.

so. surprise sur-puh-rise. i cooked breakfast. bombay toast, bebeh. if i'm not wrong, and i know i'm not, its the same as french toast. why was it named bombay toast? only heaven knowsssss~

two weeks of couch potatoing before school starts. yesterday was my last day at sanur. i guess you could say i've gotten over it. emo siah, my last few posts! but i really was saaaaad, ok. still am. no more bitch fests after work. those, i'll miss terribly.

doing "ad hoc" waitressing over there and at the turf club whenever i feel like it or am broke. but i've been stripped off my responsibilities and i guess you could say it's been a huge relief. i don't have to answer for dwindling average and beverage sales, i can choose to heck care about the inconsistency of the bumbu and best of all, i can chuck all the difficult customers to short! i'll miss it, especially the money earned. but this sem is going to kill me, i can feel it. plus, i won't get nightmares of aunty tan, the central kitchen supervisor. you know, my hair stands every time i answer the phone and she goes "AH CAT, AH".

ON A LIGHTER NOTE!

i'm looking forward to school. dreading it a wee bit, but i feel more optimistic about it. and also, the last ep of darker than black is out. so, toodles.

BLUEK.