Cure for Ennui needed

500 days, 500 days, 500 days, 500 days, I've got five hundred days before I gooooo.............

I'm worried. The old apathy is creeping back in. Same apathy that I allowed to wreck my life in poly.

I don't like the fact that while all around me, the people I care for (and some I don't) are undergoing interesting, life-altering experiences, my most pressing matter is trying to get my download speeds up. My PSLE educated (but very hard-working) fellow clerk just hooked up with a Mass Commie. Not good for the self-esteem issues.

Yesterday was the day I realised that I may not have it in me to actually express what my brain wants to say, in the way I want it to be said. Reading certain blogs drive me crazy because of that. I guess the "self-respect" part of the maturing process hasn't started yet.

I don't care about life enough to hope for anything or do anything about it. That includes that unthinkable act that rhymes with "genocide". That's how apathetic I am.

I don't want your pity. I wouldn't mind one or two of your hugs. But mostly, I just want you to make me care again.

My download of The Office just finished. Yayness.

Nothing to report, except to repeat something a friend used when it happened to her: "It ain't no different balls"

Or something to that effect.

Here's another phrase to repeat: "I can't stand for it. I won't!"

Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.

Lastly, an SMS I just received: "You're an adult now! Hugs and muacks!"

Can you tell? I just turned 21.

Whoopee.

In a Dunkin' Donuts just outside KL....

Me, my sis and cousin Zurin were ordering donuts. Well, they were, I just kept quiet. They were ordering in English. The Dunkin' staff were making fun of that fact.

In the mind of the guy behind the counter: Huh, speak English, they think what, they so stylo-mylo, want to be ang-moh, is it? Eleh. Tapi, pretty pulak, siak. (Obviously, he was thinking in Malay, but I'm too malas to translate, so there.)

In my mind: My word, this guy's rather rude! How dare he make fun of my sister and cousin's mastery of the beautiful English Language? I respect his obvious pride in all things Malay, but he should respect us just the same, shouldn't he? (Ok, I wasn't thinking that, in fact I was a little embarrassed when they mentioned that I was the one who sucked at Malay. Still annoyed by him though. No need for the faux accent, buddy. And no, he's not jealous, I'm sure of that. I'm positive he just thinks we're poseurs. Maybe I am, but the girls? Nooooo....)

In the girls' minds: giggle giggle giggle he's cute! giggle giggle giggle (No extra note here, I'm dead certain that's exactly what they were thinking.)

On the radio: To the left, to the left.... (Is it even possible to grow tired of this song?)

Well. I got so bored, I got myself an LJ blog. Yes, another blog. Difference is, for once, I did NOT use the Meesotofreak name for the URL.

You're free to search for it, dear Reader, if you're so inclined. Nope, no clues.

Ok, I go sleep now, buh bye.

And in the meantime, I still can't make myself appear online on MSN. Or call a friend. Or answer a call from a friend.

Basically, anything more social than ordering an Irish Frappe from an overpriced coffee outlet. Eh. Top o' the mornin' to ye.

To all the people whom I annoyed with my sheep sounds at Orchard Road, well, don't be. Don't you feel like sheep yourselves whenever you're there? In the crowd? No? Hmmmm...

"You know what, Fiz? You're not happy. You can never BE happy. Not when you keep chasing all these material things you keep chasing after when you bloody well know that you earn peanut shells! Or are you just trying desperately to fill that empty soul of yours with useless trinkets? Get yourself some self-respect, man!"

If there's anybody who can give me a better, more intelligent version of that speech, it would be much appreciated. Pride be damned.

A club right in the comfort of my room

K3ra asked if I had blogged lately. Good point. I shall start now.

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Not for the first time, I pondered about being a woman (stay with me now). I'm not going all Priscilla here, I just tend to think about these things. Right now, I wonder, if I was a woman, would I be even more in touch with my thoughts, my feelings? Are my masculine tendencies getting in the way? Would I be the better writer that I keep wishing to be?

In any case, I've long gone past the cross-dressing phase in my life (I don't look so hot in a tube top), so don't worry about it, dear Reader.

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Indie music is grand, ain't it? µTorrent, FlashGet and my hard drive haven't stopped crying Uncle from the exercise I gave them both last night.

Am now listening to unpopular radio and sweetmusic.fm's little battle live from Home club. Free entry and $3 drinks. Wish I was there.

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I promised my friend I'd do this. So here we go.

Flora Fizz

(Why yes, I did notice that my name's in there, why do you ask?)

ATTENTION! ATTENTION!

I'd love you all to click on that link and feast your eyes on the flower sets for sale. No, not because I get paid 40 cents per click, but because it's Valentine's Day next week! So come on, even if you don't have a significant other to surprise with a room full of American Beauties, there's always your parents, give them violets, your annoying siblings, give 'em cactuses, your best buds, give them a sunflower!

Come one, come all! Cepat, tak beli sekarang, nanti rugi! Ceeeewah...

Seriously, those are some nice looking sets, so be a romantic: click on Flora Fizz, pick one you like and contact Feedah (her particulars are at the bottom). Trust me, she doesn't bite. Go on, guys. Don't let this budding businesswoman down!

Hmmm, maybe I could use Google's Ad services to spread the word about this business.

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There, I think that'll do for a few weeks.

So apparently, I can't go to this very blog. Error messages abound. So this post is pointless, because nobody's reading it. Kinda like my job, eh?