Since I probably won't have time tomorrow, I'll just do the obligatory New Year's Resolution thing now.

Let's see, Lose Weight; Get Better Social Life; Get Better Life, Period; Get Rid of Acne; Be Happy......

Eh, same old, same old.

Well, here's a new one: Try to Grow Up. I've complained about being treated like a 15 year old by my parents when in fact I've acted like one a good many times. And I'm turning 21 in 2 months. It's about time, yah?

And I suppose: Be less "amneble for coercion" (thanks, Lost!). In other words, try not to be taken advantaged of so much, so easily. I cannot let people treat me like a mattress all the damn time! But it's so hard. My parents did too good a job in drilling me into a nice, gentle person. It's a bit of a stretch, being tough and fierce, as those firefighters keep telling me to be (one of the all too few things coming out of their mouths that are actually worth something). But, I've seen a bit of the real world, and it's really dog-eat-dog-and-cat-and-bat out there.

Joe Jackson once admitted he should've made his son Michael more aware of the fact that people aren't all nice and respectful. It became so that Michael may as well lie down and paint "WELCOME" on his torso. That won't be me. That can't be me.

Last one: Stop Caring About What People Think Of My Eccentricities. I probably need to tone it down a little, but I'm a bit proud (Another one: Start Being A LOT More Proud). It's the one thing about me that I can say separates me from everyone else. Oh, and Stop Trying So Hard To Be Different. Seriously. It's embarrassing.

Nothing else but to wish you a Merry Aidiladha, and a Happy New Year.

Alright then, nothing for it. In about 24 hours will begin what may well be a watershed year for me. 2 Double-0 7, here I come.

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Satan: Welcome to Hell, Mr. Saddam. I've been expecting you.
Saddam: Thank you. I brought you flowers.
Satan: Awww! You shouldn't have!
(lecherous looks exchanged)

Nenek's just arrived in Casa de Wahid.

See, this means three things:

1) ROTI BOYAN!

2) Seeing as Hari Raya Haji is this Sunday, with Nenek here, the family will of course be obliged to hold an open house. And, my parents, they're very, shall we say, enthusiastic about these sort of things. Anyway, what this means is that the house will be chock full of family members. And there's a fair number of them.

3) And as you may have noticed, this Sunday's also New Year's Eve. Should be fun counting down with the good buddies. Should be. Maybe I can get out to celebrate, despite what my mother says ("WHERE CAN?! MUST STAY HOME, ENTERTAIN OUR GUESTS!"). You know what, I'll ask again.

Ok, that didn't go well.

Entertaining my relatives for Hari Raya is all well and good, for most of the day. But staying at home on the night of New Year's Eve, for the 20th straight year?!

"I'll see you in hell, Pachelbel!"

An insightful look at how today's contemporary music basically rips off Pachelbel's Canon in D.

Adding Green Day, Avril Lavigne AND Twisted Sister in there was a nice touch.

Hey, look! A post in the wee hours of the morning!

So I just found out about this sub-genre of rock (one out of a gazillion trillion) called Mathcore. It's basically bands playing their songs in the key of Pythagoras' Theorem. Actually, no. It's just bands playing in some really extremely super-dupery complex structures...ok, basically, you need a Bachelor's Degree in Mathematics to write a Mathcore song. Well, no, you don't, but man, it sure feels like it.

Oh, just look it up in Wikipedia. Suffice to say, I've probably found my new favourite genre. Or sub-genre. Wonder how long till I find another genre (or sub-genre) to replace it as my new favourite?

And why did Pitchfork, they of the snobbish pretentious musical tastes and reviews, they who gave Muse's Black Holes and Revelations an unbelievably low 4.2 out of 10, give their No. 1 Song of the Year to Justin Timberlake's My Love? The mind boggles.

I mean, Sexy Back's far more catchier!

Last Tuesday was probably Mother Nature going through a little PMS. It's not everyday when you have to outrun a minor landslide. I mean, freakin' hell, I like my boots and pants nice and unsoiled, thank you very much.

I remember a huge storm back in kindergarten (near where I currently live). The sky was the darkest of blue, the trees were doing the limbo and the rain splattering on the windows sounded like gunfire. A practical hurricane. Being 5 years old, we all loved it of course and wanted to go play outside, giving our teacher a few more grey hairs under her tudung. What I remember most from that day was sitting in the classroom, with a hot cup of Milo that the teacher made me and sitting on her lap (yes, I was a teacher's pet, now please stop laughing, you're gonna break a rib) and watching the storm play out.

A lovely feeling it was.

I could do practically the same last Tuesday, replacing the classroom with The Office and the teacher with one of the lady firefighters. But noooo, Captain K had to make me go out there to Headquarters to send one lousy fire report. In a lorry. In the middle of Singapore's 3rd (only?) biggest storm in 75 (only?) years.

My mom, bless her stubborn soul, still asked if I had showered when she came home.

It was quite something though, seeing the numerous landslides, uprooted trees, road accidents, umbrella-less fools running around and through it all, the driver wanting to set a record for most drifts on the PIE.

A wet, memorable Tuesday.

The links are back up. But, seeing as my parents do see this blog from time to time and check out the links to see if I'm interacting with the "right" people, nobody I linked is related to me. I don't want a cousin knocking my block off because her mom found her blog through my mom through my blog.

If you've ever used or created content on websites such as Blogger, MySpace or YouTube, then guess what?


Congratulations! You are Time Magazine's Person of the Year 2006!

Your mom would be so proud...

Ok then. After thinking about it long and hard....ok, just hard, it wasn't very long to be honest, I've decided, no hiatus. I just won't post so much for the next few weeks. Fresh out of stuff to write about. And as I've said countless times, quitting this blog will never be an option.

So, yeah.

Well, ok, there is something to blog about. And it's in the link below.

SuperHappyFunTime Christmas (987fm Listener's Edition) - Don & Drew

Disclaimer: Neither the Meesotofreak, Don & Drew or 987fm (a division of MediaCorp Radio) will not be held responsible for any ears bleeding, brain swelling or pitchfork poking that may, nay, will happen after listening to the above MP3.

After the little conversation with my new good friend Missunpredictable (fellow singer) and Carrie, which you may feel free to skip, though why you want to, seeing as it's Carrie talking, I have no idea, wow, this sentence is digressing real nicely, you will begin to hear the beginning of quite possibly the most heinous butchering of a Christmas song ever recorded. And I'm in it. And yes, I do take some perverse pride in that.

Though honestly, we can't all be Hady Mirzas. Though if we were all Paul Twohills, wouldn't this world be a nicer place?

Maybe I'll write something about the recording of the song last Sunday and the video recording earlier today. But later. Right now, I have Half-Life 2: Episode 1 to finish.

But in a nutshell, it was a blast (crap song notwithstanding) and a dream come true to visit the 987 studios. Recording a song with Don & Drew is the bonus. And meeting all those wonderful nut jobs (and I say that in the most complimentary way) that auditioned through the Muttons in the Morning show to get the chance to sing, was my pleasure. As will be remembering all your names.

To think I planned for this to be a short post. Ok then, I'll wrap up with the hope that I will get started on that blog post I've been wanting to write since last Sunday. Oh, and two words:

Sucky Sucky!

P.S. Don was right. The world would be a better place if all songs had vomiting sounds in them.

Yesterday, *BLUEEEK*
All my troubles *BLUEEEK* seem so far aUEEEEK...

Announcement

Yo! This is Fyz, that little voice in The Fiz's head that tells him to do stuff like toss banana peels in the middle of the PIE or stuff his head in a basket full of rats. Fiz can't blog because...well, because he can't be bothered. He's not quitting, he just wants a break. Personally, I think he's starting to realise what a whiny asshole he's been on more than once occasion the past few months.

Oops, there I go again. I may be an imaginary figment of Fiz's head and all round bad influence, but damn, it's so pitiful to see him mope in his room on his bed...oh look, there he goes again. Huh. I'm starting to think that guy will never change. But no matter, I'm not giving up on him. And I should remind certain people out there that you shouldn't too. Soft-hearted fool he may be, but he's OUR soft-hearted fool!

So, in a nutshell, The Fiz wants me to say something on his behalf, though why I bother writing it at all....anyway, he's going to be on hiatus. For how long? Damn if I know. Maybe two years, months, he could simply decide to start writing again sometime next week....oh, you are? Right, right, I'll tell them. Ok, one more post next week (on this blog at least) and the hiatus begins.

So there. It's done. Now write your own bloody announcements next time, Fiz. And stop sucking your thumb, for goodness sake, man, your're nearly 21 years old!

I am me. A guy with a lot of issues, one of them being chronic shyness. Not as bad as last time of course, when boys and girls in primary school who wanted to be friends with me kept approaching me and I kept running away, asking them to leave me alone, why are you following me, I want to be by myself, WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?! That sort of thing.

These days of course, the whole social thing comes a lot easier, especially to those who wants to be friends with me. Maybe some of those people at the Station probably do want to be friends, but boy, do they have a funny way of showing it. Is teasing really part of the friendship rituals between guys in NS? BTW, the whole "ignore them" thing? Not really working. It's just harmless jokery-pokery, nothing to get grey hairs about, they're just having fun. At my expense. Ah, the perils of being a soft-hearted fool.

Excuse me, what? Oh yeah, I digress. As I've said, I'm a shy guy. Not as shy before, but still shy enough for it to be a major problem in life.

No, no major rant here. Just wanted to say that considering how shy I am, calling in on Dan & Young's show earlier today and not cocking up, not even one "ummm" or "uhh", unlike the last time I called in (ok, technically, they called me) - it shouldn't be that much of a big deal. But it is, oh, it is for me.

***********************************

It's been a hectic week. I'm swamped with more than usual of the mundane paperwork and form-filling during the day, and at night: a 7 day trial version of World of Warcraft.

I'm tired. That's not a cryptic way of saying I'm sick of this life (though it's not far off.). Seriously, I'm pooped. And there's this Saturday to think about too.

And as you can see from the above, my writing's all over place. Time for a recharge, methink.

Time for me to stop trying to be the blogger(s) I'm not.

The computer's finally in my room, with a new 5mbps wireless Broadband plan to go with it.

And yet, I still feel that life is shit.

What am I, addicted to misery?

I have to admit, it's getting better
It's getting better, all the time...