Way out of my league

I feel unproductive at work today. It feels like every part of me is happily whirling along at the processor speed of Pentium One. And someone’s been drilling at the insides of my head the entire morning. I haven’t quite figured out how to shut it off yet but when I do, you can buy it off the shelves once I patent it.

Even online conversations were exhausting. All I could type was “weak laugh”, “lol”, “ok”, “hahaha” and other singular words. But here’s an interesting bit when I was in a trance in front of my computer:



Workmate: I got the [automated] operator. Press 1 for murder. Press 2 for narcotics. Press 3 for theft. Press 4 for missing persons. [There’s] nothing about sugar.

Me: Press 0 to speak to the customer service officer directly. You have a special case.

Anyway, I feel like having something greasy. A large serving of bacon, sausages, eggs, beans, mushrooms tomatoes and buttered toast. It’s the alcohol from last night speaking, not me because I’ve been concentrating on moving around the office gingerly. You know so I won’t trip myself due to the lack of limb coordination that is usually effortless when sober.

So I went out to party yesterday and I got sloshed. Still, I should give myself a pat on the back for showing up at work on time even though I woke up with a massive hangover. This is why the phrase “TGIF” was invented.

Now according to freedictionary.com, the word “hangover” means the “delayed after-effects of drinking too much alcohol in a relatively short period of time, characterised by headache and sometimes nausea and dizziness”. (All true, by the way.) It could also signify “a letdown, as after a period of excitement”. Which is what I’m experiencing right now – an emotional hangover, along with the regular alcohol-induced sort.

Is it possible to have your heart broken even before you realise it? What do you think?

I wish the person you’re in love with is me. Or rather, I wish I’m playing in the professional league. But it was good while it lasted, brief as it was. More on this when the disco fog in my head clears up.

Must recuperate now… Another round of drinks coming up after work…


With or without you

The last few days seemed to pass by in a Photoshop Gaussian blur effect. I can’t even remember what I ate for lunch yesterday. Except it wasn’t horrid, I’d have remembered if it was. But I wouldn’t bet your house on it.

I ought to be updating my blog more often since it is supposed to keep a daily record of my life or interesting insights I’ve thought of so far. You know summat along that line. But I’m not getting any spare time at the moment, when I do, I just wanna lie down.You have to try it. It’s one of the most awesome things to do in the world.

When I have more time, I will tell you what I really think about friendship drama, why there are certain people who drift in and out of your life, my recovering appetite and, of course, the neverending story of my decluttering. Sounds fucking amazing, innit? Stay tuned.

I have a splitting headache since 5pm earlier in the day so I ought to get some rest now. Before I go, let me play you a song, a song which once made me tear slightly, still gives me goosebumps and mainly, can’t resist clicking the replay button.


The cliché of life as we know it

When I went home after a really late mini-bender night out on Sunday, I was expecting to tuck myself in bed and begin the next day groggily at 7.10am. But obviously, there were other plans that I wasn’t privy to. How else would a tragedy occur to someone I was close to while I was having the time of my life?

Relax, this is not another heartbroken post like this, this, this, and this. I’m just relating what I had felt from the wee hours of Monday morning to now. So yeh, it’s probably best if you grab a few snacks and perch yourself closely to the screen so you won’t miss out any wise profound insights from me. Joking. No, I am not. Ha, I am. No, not really. Yes, I am.

I heard about the freak car accident from someone’s Facebook update, the comments on it, and more details were garnered over instant messaging and phone calls. What happened was:

F was riding his bike on his way to pick up his girlfriend. Then four cars got into a crash on the opposite side of the road and one of them flipped over and struck him. He was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. Cause of death? Internal bleeding from ruptured lungs.

A cold numbness came over me when I was trying to convince myself that this didn’t just happened to someone I know personally and were close to during our college years before we eventually drifted apart.

The weirdest thing was just a few days earlier, I found the graffiti artwork of my name from him, my first forged sick leave certificate also from him, and the pictures I took of him for my photography class. I know right.

When I called my mate E later in the day, turns out she had been crying since 5pm and she was still sniffling over the phone. So we talked. Our Halloween together, the times we hung out at the back of the class while the lecturer was droning on and on, the photos of his creepy crawlies over emails, the iguana that accompanied him to school, his dreadlocks and educating him on wooing this girl. Then she paused and said, “That’s really life huh.”

Another one of our mates had called her to ask if they should attend the funeral together. Moments later, that mate texted her asking if they should visit this friend’s newborn who arrived one day before the accident soon. What an awesome demonstration of the cycle of life, eh? It got me thinking though and I’m still in the process of sorting my thoughts and my life, obviously.

But really, the question this brings about is “Who am I meant to be?” and wahey, that’s a quiz you can take if you’re in the midst of finding yourself. You’re welcome.


Scrambled eggs


It’s not an euphemism for anything. Really. If it’s indeed an euphemism for something, I wouldn’t be the first one to know. Because I ain’t cool like that. So I woke up this morning midday and I thought it would be a good idea to cook me some breakfast. I know right? What was I thinking? Of course, it turned out to be slightly more eventful than what you or I would have expected.

With a flashing energy-saving lightbulb over my head, (it’s a metaphor for “brilliant idea”, obviously), I turned on my notebook, made myself a hot cup of green tea and Googled “scrambled egg”. And boy oh boy, there were 1,680,000 websites eager to tell me what the best scrambled eggs look like, how to make them perfect. There’s even a Wikipedia page if you’re interested in the origins of scrambled eggs. And yes, I clicked on it. Always good to know the history of what you’re about to consume, innit.

According to this perfect scrambled eggs recipe by mrbreakfast.com:

This recipe serves 2 hungry people.

6 large eggs
6 teaspoons (1 teaspoon for each egg) low-fat milk
3 dashes of salt (1 dash for every two eggs)
1 Tablespoon butter for frying

That was when I stopped reading and head into the kitchen. I mean, how hard can cooking scrambled eggs be, right? IF I can dress and clean myself, and I have a driver’s license and I can drink (but not driving at the same time obviously) and smoke, and I have a day job, I can handle something as simple as eggs. Naturally, cooking just got a bit more interesting.

The Imaginarator’s personal scrambled eggs recipe:

Halved the number of eggs to three – check. Six tablespoons of low-fat milk – check. Substitute butter for copious amounts of olive oil – check. Three teaspoons of salt – check. Whisk them for a while until you see air bubbles – check. Heat frying pan – check. Pour mixture in – check. Add two slices of edam cheese for extra deliciousness – check. Semi-stir them – check. Turn off heat when you see eggs charring – check.

You do see where I have gone wrong, don’t you?


What the eye doesn’t see:

So where was I? Oh yes, I was having the time of my life the past one week or so typing close to 6,500 words so I could fulfil my date with Mr Deadline. He’s a herd-riding tyrant, that one.

Having to move to a new place was also taking up plenty of my time because, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m ridiculously slow in packing. Can you imagine breaking up with your clothes which you have been going out with for the last ten years? Neither can’t I. Which was why I had to vet everything, give them a hug, put selected items aside, and take a day to decide if I should throw them. Finally, I gave up and in one night, I threw out two boxes of clothes I haven’t worn for the last five years. Even the comfy jeans which I love muchly but no longer fit me as snug* as before were ditched with no mercy.

Still, there are six massive boxes awaiting me and I have no storage space left. Old school projects and files took up two boxes. Gifts from old lovers and souvenirs from dates, holidays and anniversaries. You get the drift. Hell, I even get tired from explaining how I managed to accumulate that much junk memories over the last 17 years. But hang on, I have a point to this and I’m getting there now.

On 14 October 2009, I went to work as usual and I had an epiphany**. I finally decided to clear you out of my life. It was an idea which had been brewing forever but I never really had the resolve to go through with it because it was hard for me to let go of the little traces of you I’m left with. Anyway, I started “decluttering” traces of you from the social media sites. Which led me to ditching the stuff which had you all over from my work desk. I’m clearing the movie ticket stubs, little notes, photos, trinkets, soft toys and anything that reminds me of you from my room too.

Thanks but no thanks. To put it succinctly, what the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over.

*Yeah, I know the usual practice is throwing out clothes that can no longer hide your expanding waistline comfortably. Sadly, almost all the clothes I owned before 2009 are hanging off me as if I were a scarecrow because of this.

**Technically speaking, my epiphany came about after I accidentally clicked on your facebook updates and realised it was one big fat lie from the beginning.


Listening: Bring It On Home To Me by Sam Cooke

If you ever want to know how heartbreaking and emotional and reflective a song can be, just listen to this. This guy is amazing. It’s hard not to walk around thinking you might still have a gaping wound in your chest.

“Bring It On Home To Me” (Live from the Harlem Square Club, 1963) – Sam Cooke

Do me a favour, just keep pressing the replay button, yeah.


The wonders of Prunella Vulgaris

Vulgar potion

Vulgar potion No. 9

This herbal drink is making me feel detoxed and vulgar all at the same time. Just FYI, guys, FYI.

According to Wikipedia, Prunella vulgaris, also known as common selfheal, heal-all, heart-of-the-earth or hạ khô thảo in Vietnamese, is a medicinal plant in the genus Prunella.

Heal-all is both edible and medicinal. It can be used in salads, soups, stews, or boiled as a pot herb. It has been used as an alternative medicine for centuries on just about every continent in the world, and for just about every ailment. Heal-All is something of a panacea, it does seem to have some medicinal uses that are constant. The plant’s most useful constituents are betulinic acid, D-camphor, delphinidin, hyperoside, manganese, oleanolic acid, rosmarinic acid, rutin, ursolic acid, and tannins. The whole plant is medicinal as alterative, antibacterial, antipyretic, antiseptic, antispasmodic, antiviral, astringent, carminative, diuretic, febrifuge, hypotensive, stomachic, styptic, tonic, vermifuge and vulnerary. It is taken internally as a medicinal tea in the treatment of fevers, diarrhoea, sore mouth and throat, internal bleeding, and weaknesses of the liver and heart. Clinical analysis shows it to have an antibacterial action, inhibiting the growth of pseudomonas, Bacillus typhi, E. coli, Mycobacterium tuberculi, which supports its use as an alternative medicine internally and externally as an antibiotic and for hard to heal wounds and diseases. It is showing promise in research for cancer, AIDS, diabetes, and many other maladies.

If you managed to finish reading the above, give yourself a pat on the back because I didn’t.