On the facebook front

I don't get it when people you:

- never liked in the first place and could not possibly have any sort of relationship with...
- have not heard from for yonks and you can't remember their last name or why you know them...
- don't care about anymore...


try to add you.

Why the need to collect faces for your portfolio of contacts?

Shit.

I'm not a snob, am I?

Oh Ow.

My wishing I get sick so that I don't have to go to work is working a bit too well.

I can hardly hold down my food without bluuuerrrgghkkhhh-ing it all out again.

There were hours when I couldn't even hold down water.

I can't taste anything because I can't smell anything.

I'm aching everywhere and I feel like I've been given tranquilisers and everything's foggy and my eyes are burning.

Time to wish a new one.


"I wish I wasn't sick so I could go out and eat real food I wish I wasn't sick so I could go out and eat real food..."

Two days later...

It worked!!


I'm sick!


Yay!



*cough* *sniffles* *groan*

Small thing only

I tell myself it's okay, it's not a big deal and there's no point getting stressed over work because then you don't get anything done and you just break down into a pile of uselessness.

But this monopeptalk just isn't working anymore.

"I wish I was sick so I wouldn't have to go to work I wish I was sick so I wouldn't have to go to work.."

Maybe if I wish hard enough, and believe it enough, it'll come true.

I don't want to be brave and strong, I just want to rest.



Edit: Cried, Ranted, Moving On.

Fat run

A couple of days ago while in the car with a friend going to a Burger King drive-through, Moob called.

"Baby! We're going to exercise every day from now on!"
"Never!"
"I read this forum on Tucker Max (only he takes TM so seriously), and I'm going to become fit. You're fat too so you're coming with me!"

*eye twitches*

Did he.. just call me fat?

0_O

*thinks*

There was that time when I couldn't fit in those pants.

And those other times that I wanted clothing items but they didn't have it in my size (I just figured that the girls here were anorexic so they made clothes for them only).

I've always thought that it was okay to be a bit fleshy (a.k.a. voluptuous), but if it's not allowing you to wear your clothes, fleshy isn't quite the word anymore.

It's expansion.

I will not be one of those people who get too fat to move around, and then blame it on the world and skinny models and McDonalds.

Gym and swimming for me every alternate day from now on.

And no to McDonalds. And Burger King.

Well, maybe once a month or something.

We dig dig dig dig, dig dig dig...

Busy busy busy.

I work at work, I work at home. I'm even working when I'm sleeping.


Bee. Bzzzzzz.

In the mines, in the mines, where a million diamonds shine.


We dig dig dig dig, dig dig dig...

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

*sigh*

*sigh*

*sigh*

Damnit.



P/S The iPod shuffle and iPod classic are the same and I don't covet them therefore not featured in this sigh-fest.

Growing balding spot

My name is misery and I like company.

The software that caused me much anguish just last week by deciding to log me out after I've completed my story and was trying to save it, has gone a.w.o.l again.

This time, it has decided to take the day off and will not let anyone log in.

All my articles, including a 1,000 word cover story for my pullout, are stored inside. I must must must close all pages by tomorrow.

When will the system be back? IT personnel at my paper said, "Indefinitely. It's not a problem on our side but with the software itself. We've contacted the developers in the U.K. -- there's nothing else we can do for now."

Jump off a building, anyone?

snow on the bloody sahara

I am pathetically thirsty right now.

Hilariously enough, there isn't a drop of drinkable water in the house. The tap water won't do, for it contains SARS, dysentary, ebola and possibly necrotising fasciitis. Plus I suspect the sink begins to sprout hair and howl at the moon and jump out the window to have sexual congress with questionable company every night, no doubt accompanied by a lovely assortment of vermin and collecting amusingly named fungi.

Jesus, in retaliation for my taking His name in vain all these blasphemous years, is making it rain just heavily enough so that in one fell swoop, He's mocking my thirst and preventing me from running down to the convenience store with the hilarious broken-English speaking cashier-people to buy chilled mineral water. The smug little sod is probably sneering and going "How dost thee like THAT, thou horrible little twat?"

McDonalds doesn't deliver for another hour or so. And the stupid raincoatless bastards don't deliver in the rain anyway. The messiah has it in for me. It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you.

I'd boil some water, but a part of me (the part that appears to want to watch me die) keeps saying "No! Wait fifteen minutes and maybe the rain will stop," every 15 minutes. This was 5 sets of 15 minutes ago.

I want sayangggggg

Sorethroat :(

No junk food makes for a depressed me.

Ping!

Boy, today was tough.

A lot of work, a lot of follow ups and a lot of stupid men to pry information from.

At the end of it all was a tough story to write and with very little time (plus I was hungry cause it was dinner time).

So I wrote, fast as I could, with as much sense as I could, compiling the conversations I've had and editing them to make a news piece.

It took me 45 minutes before I felt it was good enough to send it in to the editors. Breathing a sigh of relief I moved my cursor to click 'Save' on our journo writing software, the screen blinked, and the login screen came on.

THE BLOODY SOFTWARE SOMEHOW HAD LOGGED ME OUT WITHOUT SAVING.

The worst possible thing to happen when meeting a deadline had happened.

*Sabar*

I was going to cry, but I didn't because I didn't have time and had to rewrite the whole thing and the editors were waiting.

So I typed typed typed (on Microsoft Word this time), copied the text over and finally got the piece in.

Then I investigated.

Turns out that the software, which we had only gotten about two months earlier and started using recently (we're slowly phasing out the use of the old software), is Internet-based.

What happened was that the page had timed out.

That's right.

TIMED OUT.

Where got such a thing right. Why would you get an unreliable Internet-based software to replace a software that's working perfectly fine (except that it's so old that the company which produced it isn't around anymore, and it only works with 20 year old Apple PCs).

So from now on, we journos, who have to deal with enough shit as it is, have to type, write and edit our stories on MS Words and when we're done, then copy and paste it into the software to send it in.

Being in the newsroom is such a joy.

:x

I hate that in whatever quarrel or debate -- I always lose.

Simply because I don't think and talk fast enough, nor loud enough, and that I feel like I'm being unreasonable and stupid and female.

And when I want to just shut up and cool down and not make it a big deal, I am accused of making it a big deal and being stubborn and unwilling to handle matters like an adult and talk it through.

But when I try to 'be a man and do the right thing' and amicably talk things through with reason and not get emo -- apparently, I am being indifferent and treating the matter as if it was a joke.

I hate that whoever it is uses my memory (or the lack of it) as an argument point.

Yes, I forget a lot of things, but there are some things that I just don't.

And it's just not fair because I don't bear grudges and I don't have the best of memories so I can't bring up the hundreddifferentthings that you did wrong and use it against you.

I could be petty and write it down in a notebook everytime I've been wronged. That is, if I haven't yet been convinced that I am the doer of evil things and everything is my fault.

Then I'd have nothing to write down.

Independence Day/ GoH at MoU

A haiku

August 31st

Was our Independence Day --

There were no fireworks.

------------------------

In other news, Mel Gibson was the guest of honour at an event I covered. Standing where I was, that man needs Yun Nam Hair Care.

Other than that, he was very late but also very entertaining.