Whatever You Are, Be a Good One – Crimson

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As a whole I am very laidback and easygoing. But there are a few things that I don’t care for.

For instance, I don’t care for office romance. I am not bothered by it, I just don’t partake in it. I don’t care if the statistics say a large number of people meet and date through work. Those numbers mean nothing to me.

I don’t care for fidelity or lack there-of. I believe everyone, yes including you, if given the opportunity to cheat without ever getting caught, would take that opportunity. It’s just a matter of risk vs rewards. Given a big enough reward, anything can be worth the risk.

Having said that, I also don’t care for polygamous or those increasingly trendy poly amorous relationships. I think people who do that are just greedy.

(Question: why be in an official or formal relationship at all? For insurance purposes? There’s a word for that: greed. I don’t understand them, neither am I interested to.)

I don’t care for reciprocity. I think it is naive to expect people to respond in a similar fashion, good or bad. Positive action doesn’t always beget positive response, vice versa. The life that we live is a result of causality. I do this therefore that happens. So I don’t care for paybacks or talkbacks or retaliations. There is no time for that. Life passes by so quickly. I’d rather just live.

There is a long list of things that I don’t care for. But in the tradition of Top 5’s, I will choose just one more thing not to care for. I don’t care for fair-weather friends. I don’t think those are friends at all. They are faux-friends. They keep your number so that they can dial the phone when they need you to do something. You never hear from them otherwise. Years and years could pass and suddenly the phone rings and as if no time had passed at all they’d casually ask for a this and that, big and small. I’d get a little agitated at first, and then after I have ranted and cursed, a small kind of amazement would creep in. Where and how did they come about this misplaced sense of entitlement?

The thing is some of these people used to be people that I like and care about. But somehow over time they got wrapped up in themselves, or I get wrapped up in me that all we are to each other is just a phone number to call when we need a favour.

This is probably the thing that I don’t care for most of all.

I hope I don’t become one.

Today I woke up to a rude surprise – an email accusing me of absconding someone’s money.

But what I am most angry about is, I was not even given an opportunity to understand or explain myself.  It was a straightforward accusatory missive. No introduction. No background information. Just 3 lines that read:

“”how stupid i am not to know…..pls return the money that ***** had contributed…..how could u not tell me and dont even explain to *****….”

Let me get a few things straight:

1. I feel uncomfortable when people pay for my dinner, much less be inclined to take some other people’s money and run with it.
2. When managing a personal project, very rarely I will request for external funding or contribution. In fact up to this point, I have never requested for any external funding for any of my personal projects. If someone claims I do, s/he’s lying. Plain and simple.
3. I don’t have a habit of owing people money. I have no housing loans, no car loans, no store credit,  no outstanding credit card bills and no personal money borrowed from anyone. Don’t take my word for it, feel free to ask around.
4. Don’t insult me by accusing me of running off with RM160. It can’t even buy me half a shoe.

I can take a lot of heat and stress, but this is exactly the kind of f*ckery that I don’t put up with. No one should.

The Anugerah Juara Lagu 24 took place last night. If you want to have a look at the list of winners, you can see it here.

While I have been radio-unfriendly for the past decade or so, I do try to catch all these “live” telecasts just to see what people are up to. And boy, was I in for a treat. I haven’t laughed hysterically so much in months. And thanks to facebook, it was really a social affair with people from all over the country chipping in with their comments.

But naaah…I don’t want to belabor the point in here. I am sure you can easily find these elsewhere on the Internet. Some people say it’s the best ever, some people (me) say it’s a circus.  Either way, it was great fun. You know, the kind of fun you get when  you watch a horribly bad movie (*koff* Dude, Where’s My Car? *koff*) that is so bad it is good? Like that lah.  Honestly, my thumb could not answer all the status comments that appeared on my wall fast enough (I was updating my status using my mobile phone).

Without naming names, here are some stuff that we could all learn from last night’s show:

1. MAKE SURE THE PANTS FIT!

Pic is for illustrative purposes only. Still, just say "I think it's about time to get new pants, please."

If you are wearing pants, make sure it is not two sizes too small. And if it is, do not keep tugging your vest thus bringing more attention to your bunched crotch area. I spent a good portion of the night howling at the tv  trying to telepathically tell one of the presenters that his pants were just obscene.  How can you tell? If the pockets bulge no matter how hard you tuck them in and you can’t bend down to pick up a coin on the floor without ripping a rude one on “live” tv, it’s time to change pants, pronto.

2. TOO MUCH RUFFLES AND SEQUINS WILL KILL YOU

Honestly, it would. One of the contestants wore a satin gold, lacy, sequinned and be-ruffled mermaid dress that defied all imagination (I dare you to imagine it yet keep your brain from exploding). I can’t even find an example of said dress short of posting pic of the actual dress. I swore my poor tv flickered a few times trying bravely to keep on transmitting while the dress was on display.

3. MILITARY STYLE JACKETS SHOULD BE BURIED TOGETHER WITH MJ

2 of them wore military style jackets (one complete with his initials in sequins at the lapels, honest); and at least 3 of them wore a wedding-singer-inspired blazer with colour-block piping straight  from the early 80’s. Just like the picture, only you know, way less cool.  Did I mention they also added sequins to the jackets?

4. YOU DON’T GET MARKS BASED ON HOW MANY BACK-UP SINGERS YOU CAN STUFF ONSTAGE

Or offstage, for that matter. Look, about the only person who could sing onstage with 150 choristers belting their harmonious hearts out without being upstaged  is Mariah Carey. You are not Mariah Carey.

5.  ADAM LAMBERT HAIR & MAKE-UP IS SO LAST SEASON

Turn the page, boys. The piece-y, hair-gelled, mussed to the death punk-goth hairdo and heavy black-eyeliner is so American Idol season 8. The only boys who didn’t sport this hairstyle were those who had wavy, big hair. Don’t even get me started on the pink blushers. If I can tell that it’s blusher on my non-high definition no-brand 29″ tv that I bought from Carrefour 6 years ago, then you’re wearing too much blusher.

6. TOO MUCH KAPOW, TOO LITTLE SINGING

The AJL last night made me long for the days when it was the singing that counted. Do you remember these?

“Merisik Khabar” by the (late) Sudirman Hj Arshad, Juara Lagu 1987

“Pada Syurga di Wajahmu” by Nash (Lefthanded), Juara Lagu 1992

“Tanya Sama Itu Hud-Hud” by M Nasir, Juara Lagu 1994

When the singing is sound, the composition is good, the musicians are top-notch, you don’t need flying monkeys and exploding stages to make your grand impression.

And lastly, my shoutout to Search, whose short but memorable cameo during the show was probably the best bit about the whole competition. I couldn’t find the clip from last night, so I leave you with “Laila Namamu Teratas”, which is Aida’s favourite Search karaoke tune.

Peace.

Last night some loser went cuss-word crazy and started dropping f-bombs in the comment section of my post about Crappy Maxis Customer Service. I think s/he left 6 comments in total – basically telling me and all posters what idiots we are for losing our mobile phones and continuing to be Maxis users. It would have been cool if s/he had enough balls to leave his/her name and email address, instead s/he posted anonymously (though I captured the IP address automatically) which landed him/her in the spam box.

Here’s a piece of advice. If you can’t man up and put your name on something, then don’t. It just goes directly into the trash can. I don’t deal with cowards.

Some things  follow me around like a ghost because I never laid them down to rest. I know it’s not healthy.

That’s why, sometimes,  I mourn.  Today especially.

Did you know that declarations of love can make you sad instead of happy?

Anata to by Ayaka + Kobukuro. Lyrics and translation here.

It comes and goes like the rain.

What are you waiting for? Go get this comic magazine Rottworld Komik Vol4. Skip all the pages and just go to Rock Chick United by Pami, an old friend.

Why, you ask? Because of the them is loosely based on me! See if you can figure out which one.

It has been such a tough 2010 but this really made my day. What a super cool surprise.

I am not sure if it is a phase that everyone goes through but there are days when you just don’t feel like answering the phone (I am having 2 of those days right now, my phone’s been uncharged since Thursday and the silence is very comforting).

I’d like to recap some of my favourite moments of 2009. It seems apt to do it after we’ve actually entered 2010. So here they are, in no particular order:

A late morning picnic at Taman Tasik Titiwangsa. We were shooting for Lake Gardens, got lost twice and ended up here instead. We capped off the day with some retail therapy at Mid Valley and a dozen of doughnuts from Krispy Kreme. Nice.

The "Kampung Boy by Dato' Lat" livery launch, with Sir Bob Geldof making a special apearance.

A visual-kei rockstar moment with Wade. We sang and partied til the cows came home. His pleather boots were fierce and smoking hot.

Any occassion that requires me to dress in school uniform is always a good occassion. With Nicole, who was channelling Avril Lavigne punk rock princess look.

Invading SG to watch the babelicious Kaname. Also memorable coz I met Nanie, Erna and Nizam after 10 years. PC was looking good as always. Suddenly SG became a much nicer and friendlier place than it has been these past 10 years.

Coffee and cakes with Ibu Wita in Bali at the shores of a private beach in a 5-star hotel at Nusa Dua. I loved this place so much I even want my wedding to take place here. Finding a groom, now that's the hard part.

A quick moment enjoying the Chrismas lights along Oxford Street with Maddy. The road was jam-packed wih people we could not even take a decent picture, as evidenced by the stranger on the right! I looked so happy. A day later I had to board a plane to go back to work. C'est la vie

And I know I said no more resolutions, but there are some projects that I have been incubating for quite some time now and I’d like to be able to wrap them up in 2010. There are so many, so I will just pick three:

1. Complete the Acoustic Project albums; both of the 80’s cover and a recording of all my stuff, most of which I have forgotten how to play.
2. A journey to rediscover South East Asia and document them in a travelogue. I want to get to know the people, the food, the life, the bright lights, the music, the books  all over again. If I do one ASEAN country a month, I’d be able to cover all 10 by the end of 2010. I am saving 2 wildcard months for Japan. Ganbattei ne.
3. Hire a maid!

I was skipping my way to the washroom when I passed a group of boys. One of them happened to be my staff so I smiled at him. Then there was this boy from Engineering behind him. I smiled at him too, then I blocked his way and asked, were you from [name of my stupid high school]? Yes, he said, looking surprised. I am your senior, I told him. He looked startled. I don’t remember he said. I laughed. Of course he doesn’t. I have put on 60 pounds since then.

Bet you thought that story was going to end with me hitting on him?

Anyway, that’s the problem. I can remember a face from 20 years ago, of someone that I have NEVER even spoken and bumped into for merely 2 seconds back in high school; yet I cannot remember where I put my glasses 20 seconds ago.

Grr

Mr Abu suddenly blurted, you are such an ESTP.

What the fuck is that? I asked (yes I used the word fuck. I swear a lot these days).

Go do the Jung Myers-Briggs Personality Test, he said.

I don’t do tests, I said. All that I know is I am an interesting person and that is enough.

Google it, he said.

And I did. (You can do the test here if you like).

My result came up to ENTJ – Fieldmarshal. Apparently, so is Bill Gates.

Mr Abu is an ENTP – Inventor. So was Richard Feynman.

He thinks I am an ESTP – Promoter. That’s The Donald’s temperament. As in Trump.

Curious, I read all three. Now the problem is, any of the 3 description fits. The conclusion is, I am a pretender.

So, do you think I am a Bill Gates, a Richard Feynman or a Donald Trump?

I have this sister. If I had my way, I would have described her in the past tense; but unlike friends, you can’t choose your family.

Anyway, I have this sister. For some reason, whenever we are in a social gathering where she has to introduce me, she would always say that I am her older sister (no complains) and end it with “… and she’s single, heheheheh” with sort of a combination of nervous, apologetic laughter. She did this about 4-5 times before I took her aside and asked her why did she have to reason my existence with the sentence “…. and she’s single, heheheheh”? She responded indignantly that she didn’t know how to introduce me and that was the most interesting thing about me that she could think of.

So I told her to stop.

There are 2 reasons why I bring this up.

Firstly, recently I met a friend whom I haven’t met in about a decade. True to form, one of the very few questions that he mustered during the conversation was “Why don’t you have a boyfriend yet?”. There was no graceful way to answer this kind of question without sounding offended, so I said something about me going out with someone (true) but not having any plans to settle down yet (also true). He gave me one of those pitifully sarcastic side grins which I understood immediately to mean “You poor sad little choosy soul,”

Secondly, today one of my friends got engaged to her longtime beau. It was a lovely ceremony and the pictures were absolutely beautiful and hilarious (PS3 as one of the gifts? Only in the new millennium). As I browsed through the pictures, I found that I was constantly looking up to the TV screen to catch the deleted scenes from Constantine. Eventually I logged off and watched Constantine in full, and when it ended continued with Transformers 2 before deciding to write this blogpost; but not before I posted the note about my 2010 resolution. No drama, no envy, no pangs of jealousy, no me imagining what my engagement party would be like. I was just happy for her; the simple kind of happy like how I feel when it rains, or when I get free coffee refills, or when someone tells me my high heels are impossibly high how on earth could I wear them without toppling all over myself  (by walking very very carefully and deliberately).

The point I want to make is this.  STOP. There are many reasons why I choose to be single, just as there are many reasons, I am sure, why other people choose  to be one half of a couple. I don’t detest marriage. I don’t advocate being single as the choice for everyone. I don’t view couples as an ambition to achieve. I am not one of those girls in Sex and The City. Yes I love the series, and I love the movie and you betcha I will be in line for the second movie next summer but I am not one of them.

I am just someone that actually likes who she is, where she’s at and the kind of relationships that she has with the men in her life. I know that I will continue to encounter these questions and the side grins and the supposedly well-meaning introductions. I’ll live. I am sure if I think hard enough I will find a suitable response that is nice enough to make people feel good about themselves yet firm enough to keep them out of my petticoat.

And that Cartier Love Ring? Don’t worry about it. I bought it myself. And yes I can afford it. And that’s a more interesting story to tell than my being “…single heheheheh”.