Wednesday, May 28, 2008
The Corn 'Corn-tinues'........
Duzbin: DC, have you bought the movie tickets? Please ‘indy-cate’ if you have.
whmok: Duzbin! I’m going to watch with my family this Sunday. Don’t you dare tell me what happens ‘indy-end ah.’
Sentient: It will be very ‘in-dy-cent’ if he told you what happens ‘indy-end’. I should also ‘indy-cate’ to you that I have seen it already.
whmok: It is ‘indy-eed’ annoying how you guys get to watch it first in a different ‘time-Jones’. If you tell me about it, I can’t watch the show ‘indy-ferently’ and ‘indy-pendent’ from your opinions.
Q: What is Indiana Jones’ favourite Indian meal?
A: Its in the theme song, “papapapa……… papadom…… papapapa….. papa domdomdom…”
Friday, May 23, 2008
TGIF
‘Thank goodness it is Friday!’ We often say this to indicate that the week has been dreary and relief can be found just around the corner. TGIF can be a deceiving catchphrase because behind the light-hearted resonance lies a weighty load of expectations. It is like saying that the value and mood of the week will rest solely on the weekend being a fulfilling one. It is a last minute hope to salvage a tedious week conditional upon an eventful 48 hours – talk about pressure.
Perhaps it is this hope, laden with anxiety that drives us towards extreme measures which results in hangovers, sleepless nights and grumbles of “I’m too old for this shit.” On the other hand, a lack of planning during midweek often renders an uneventful Saturday night. This feeling likened to being swindled by a five year old is really not great.
Weekends are indeed precious; something which I failed to appreciate when I was in Melbourne. Back then, weekends started from 5pm Thursdays and ended on Monday nights. It was something which I couldn’t get sick of and my only lament was why long weekends couldn’t be even longer.
Over the last couple of months, my weekends have been spent at salsa clubs, poker nights with the boys and soaking up the arts scene at the Esplanade. The weekends have been enriching, fulfilling and perhaps bordered on extravagant. A deliberate effort was always involved in ensuring that weekends did not go to waste, that I would not wake up on Monday mornings feeling cheated. I would plan for concerts months before and arrange poker sessions at the start of each week. Planning was essential to ensure a good weekend.
It is strange then, that last weekend, I spent some time with Treeman under the most random circumstances. Treeman is one of my dearest of friends. We go way back to the days where you need to raise your hand to use the bathroom. In recent months, Treeman has decided to take his leave of absence from the social arena because his hands are full with responsibilities which I don’t quite fathom so I won’t try. Last Saturday, it was a rare occasion that he felt compelled to buy me lunch. I suspect it has something to do with the money I lost to him.
So that day, we hung out and did absolutely nothing. We were at a Cineplex but didn’t watch a movie. We were at the shops but didn’t buy anything. We conversed but the topics were so frivolous I can’t remember what was said between the hello and goodbye. Strange, because despite all that, it was heart-warming and the few hours in his company gave me a sense of fulfilment not felt since, well, when I did absolutely nothing with my friends in Melbourne.
Contentment and joy are usually found in the simplest things. However, it is not everyday that you have people around that can share the pleasures of simplicity. Till I find the opportunity to gather my buddies mostly residing in Australia, I guess I will continue to fill my PDA with profuse events dependant on excessive planning.
Perhaps it is this hope, laden with anxiety that drives us towards extreme measures which results in hangovers, sleepless nights and grumbles of “I’m too old for this shit.” On the other hand, a lack of planning during midweek often renders an uneventful Saturday night. This feeling likened to being swindled by a five year old is really not great.
Weekends are indeed precious; something which I failed to appreciate when I was in Melbourne. Back then, weekends started from 5pm Thursdays and ended on Monday nights. It was something which I couldn’t get sick of and my only lament was why long weekends couldn’t be even longer.
Over the last couple of months, my weekends have been spent at salsa clubs, poker nights with the boys and soaking up the arts scene at the Esplanade. The weekends have been enriching, fulfilling and perhaps bordered on extravagant. A deliberate effort was always involved in ensuring that weekends did not go to waste, that I would not wake up on Monday mornings feeling cheated. I would plan for concerts months before and arrange poker sessions at the start of each week. Planning was essential to ensure a good weekend.
It is strange then, that last weekend, I spent some time with Treeman under the most random circumstances. Treeman is one of my dearest of friends. We go way back to the days where you need to raise your hand to use the bathroom. In recent months, Treeman has decided to take his leave of absence from the social arena because his hands are full with responsibilities which I don’t quite fathom so I won’t try. Last Saturday, it was a rare occasion that he felt compelled to buy me lunch. I suspect it has something to do with the money I lost to him.
So that day, we hung out and did absolutely nothing. We were at a Cineplex but didn’t watch a movie. We were at the shops but didn’t buy anything. We conversed but the topics were so frivolous I can’t remember what was said between the hello and goodbye. Strange, because despite all that, it was heart-warming and the few hours in his company gave me a sense of fulfilment not felt since, well, when I did absolutely nothing with my friends in Melbourne.
Contentment and joy are usually found in the simplest things. However, it is not everyday that you have people around that can share the pleasures of simplicity. Till I find the opportunity to gather my buddies mostly residing in Australia, I guess I will continue to fill my PDA with profuse events dependant on excessive planning.
Monday, May 12, 2008
A Smurfy Day
I feel like a smurf. Yes those little creatures with a poor dress sense – why would one wear just a white hat, white boxers and no top? Speaking of which, ever wondered how a smurf looks like without the hat? I’m imagining a blue mutant frog.
Anyway, I feel like a smurf today.
A couple of issues have been bugging me of late. Nothing dramatic, just a few things I feel obligated to do yet my feet are dragging like a Taiwanese soap opera. There is a paper which I need to revise but the thought of it is making the hair at the back of my neck stand. I have come a long way from academia and the thought of getting back into it feels as daunting as sending aid to Myanmar. The paper revision will possibly take another four to five months with any chance of being invited for a third revision. It is like I’m facing the entrance of a very long tunnel that sheds no light at the end. The alternative, walk away and spend Sunday afternoons at the beach. Believe it or not the decision is a tough one, but I feel rather obligated to finish what I have started.
For the time being, I’ll sit on it like a whoopee cushion till inspiration finds me. It might, but not on a Sunday because I’ll be at the beach.
Anyway, I feel like a smurf today.
A couple of issues have been bugging me of late. Nothing dramatic, just a few things I feel obligated to do yet my feet are dragging like a Taiwanese soap opera. There is a paper which I need to revise but the thought of it is making the hair at the back of my neck stand. I have come a long way from academia and the thought of getting back into it feels as daunting as sending aid to Myanmar. The paper revision will possibly take another four to five months with any chance of being invited for a third revision. It is like I’m facing the entrance of a very long tunnel that sheds no light at the end. The alternative, walk away and spend Sunday afternoons at the beach. Believe it or not the decision is a tough one, but I feel rather obligated to finish what I have started.
For the time being, I’ll sit on it like a whoopee cushion till inspiration finds me. It might, but not on a Sunday because I’ll be at the beach.
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