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QUESARAH

Desktop Confessional

The Beautiful Heatwave.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005
9:22 PM

The days are getting increasingly hotter as Chinese New Year draws closer. Even if you are on holiday, like yours truly, there is hardly any motivation to venture out when you pull up your bamboo blinds, and a headache immediately creeps into your head from the blinding rays of the sun. Forget going out and "living it up"- the best things to do on such hot Malaysian days is to stay home, and procrastinate. Just a tank top, your bed and the faithful fan (aircond being the better alternative, but beware the bills!).

I wonder why this heatwave can't be as sexy as that video by Rob Thomas and Santana, Smooth. I suppose one would have to live on a street in New York where people live in close proximity, and you have brownstones where teens hang around spouting rap rhymes, and old ladies lay on their lounge chairs tanning. Maybe one just needs Rob Thomas to walk around their neighbourhood. Rawr. Talk about temperatures shooting up.

(The little demon on my shoulder says that maybe I need to be a model, like those chicks in the video.)

The whole of Life exists in a balance, so when we have mindfckingly hot days, the nights (at least where I am, anyway) have been the most beautiful I've seen in a long while. There has been a full moon these past few nights, and there's not a cloud in the sky to shield away the stars. If I could, I would climb on to the roof and lie there, staring at the sky. I would take a picture, and Photoshop it to say "Wish You Were Here" because what good is such beauty if you don't share it with your loved ones?

There's a soundtrack that plays as these ying-yang of days cancel out the ones left in January. It started out slow, but it is now accelerating to its finish. The last few days of the month will be centered around friends: tomorrow a farewell party for three very important, very beautiful ladies in my life and the day after, and this will make y'all jealous, I will be temporarily escaping the heatwave by going to Cantoland.

I hope they have starry nights in Hong Kong.

Be back with much love (ie pics),
sarah.

Mixtape.

Saturday, January 22, 2005
2:22 PM


I had this when I was but a wee lass!


Impromptu spring cleaning late last night, and I found the New Radicals cassette I was talking about in my previous post. Naturally, it was buried under a mountain of dust WITHOUT it's cover. That was practically cassette-suicide. I don't know where the cover had disappeared too, along with the lyrics sheet and what not. Sharing the same fate was Third Eye Blind's first album. I mourned for both of them, but decided to pop them into my stereo and prayed for the best.

Well. So much for optimism, as the sound quality was so, so bad that I could not bear letting it go on longer than Side A. It was all muffled, and halfway through the first side, it started to screech. My brother actually knocked down my door and asked me if I had lost a head, or simply entertaining a banshee. How is it that my dad's Dionne Warwick's supposedly-older-than-me casette can still emit such clear sounds? How, how, how?

I miss cassettes sometimes. No doubt they have their limitations: they wear out, the tape gets tangled whilst rewinding (my Backstreet Boys' "Millennium"), and emit little screeches as revenge for not taking proper care of them. But they're so wonderfully nostalgic, and simple. Although I don't think I'd ever purchase a cassette over a CD these days, but I do intend to keep my collection of tapes. Yes even the two half-dead ones. I cannot bear to part with them. I think this trait comes from my dad, who still has a healthy collection of vinyl.

So, as I couldn't sleep anyway (bloody hell teh tarik), I wanted to read something. I'm in a literary rut these days, having not bought a book in ages. Nothing appealed to me on my bookshelf, and since I was set adrift on memory's bliss already, I decided to read the articles submitted for my, er, yearbook. (I really need a few new books) After that, I dug out a few newsletters that I contributed some articles to back then. OMG, I want to kill my 15-year old self. If you really want to know if you've grown or not in the years, read some of your old essays. CRINGE!

Lazy Saturdays- good for pointless posts. :)

Picture source

What's in a name?

Thursday, January 20, 2005
6:54 PM

Technicolour Lover.

That's my MSN screen name, and has remained that ever since I first started using MSN Messenger. I've gotten a lot of questions over the years, mainly "WTF is a technicolour lover anyway?". And the fact that I hardly change my screen name seems to pique the curiousity of more inquisitive people. So here is the meaning, before anyone asks me YET AGAIN, wtf is my obsession with colour.

It is a song, by now-defunct band New Radicals- a band which I really liked when I was 14 or so. Remember that song, You Only Get What You Give? Yes, that was them .. or rather, him, because the band is really just one person (Gregg Alexander). And! He's the writer and original artist who came up with Someday We'll Know. Not that Mandy Moore cover thing. I still have his debut album ("Maybe You've Been Brainwashed Too") somewhere in my room. Probably hidden under a large dust bunny.

It's got the best lyrics. Ever:

She came from a world that is so far out
Roller skating into my life I never had no doubt
She asked where to get that velvet colored hair
I said I got lot's more somewhere
If you touch my big ___

And she said I come from a world that is so far out
And I said so do I
And she may not be the world's solution
But she's a world class revolution

Technicolor Lover
Rate my heart
Technicolor Lover
Sate my heart
Technicolor Lover
Take my heart...now


Oh. Me and my dirty, dirty mind. ;p

And since we're on the issue of names- my parents wanted to name me Beverly. Beverly. OMG, I can't think of a name more wrong for me. I got lucky though. My brother? Not so lucky. His name is Irving, and it's a good thing he's cooler than his name suggests.

You'd think that you yourself would make a better decision with a name suited for you than your parents, right? Not so the case with me. At 16, I had to choose a confirmation name (being Catholic and all), which will be like my middle name. I left it to the last minute and in a moment of desperation and a completely blank mind, chose the name Amanda. Now that's a nice name on it own, but my friends were like, "You're so not the Amanda!". I wonder what would have been a better choice, though?

But hey, at least my name isn't Elgin Baylor Lumpkin- which is the unfortunate real name of rapper Ginuwine (aka Gizzle). Or Engelbert Humperdinck, who actually wanted that name over his real (less laughable) name of Arnold George Dorsey.

(WHY?!)
(But he was, silly name aside, quite famous back then and his name, and ONLY his name, lives on til today.)

The Need to Shake (Things Up).

Tuesday, January 18, 2005
12:47 AM

I've been contemplating on changing my display pic (your left, dearest). And for the first time in my life, I have no proper pics to change it to. I gave up camwhoring the moment I got my new, bulky digicam; its frame making it difficult for me to strike a "pose" (konon) without getting a sprain later. Which is good anyway, because I've been camwhoring a looong time. See, I first got a digital camera when I was in Form 4/5, so that's like 3-4 years of taking pictures of myself! It has to stop sooner or later eh? And now it has. :( So now I have to resolve to cropping myself out of group pics, like back in the old days! (Circa 2002)

It's amazing how I can get so attached to something as trivial as a picture. I think when you let things be without shaking things up now and then, everything just becomes too safe and comfortable. Like right now, I'm still thinking whether to change it or not. I don't know why I bother- it's only a picture, after all. But this other voice in my head is saying, "But look how well the lighting of the old pic goes with this template!"

But it's true. We all get comfortable with routine, and safe measures to achieving what we want. If it ain't broken, don't fix it- right? Sometimes when I'm in the car and looking at the things that pass me by, I feel quite subdued by how familiar everything is. I can close my eyes and still tell you what comes after what store, etc. It's suffocating in a way, and that's when I really feel that I need to get away.

It's a love-hate thing with familiarity. I dislike it, and at the same time I need it to be able to cope when things get rough. Even simple things like watching TV every Tuesday night, or grocery shopping on Sunday morning .. these things keep me sane.

You can never win with yourself, can you? I remain as confused as ever about what I want- with my future and my display pic.

To the land of TVB!

Wednesday, January 12, 2005
5:34 PM

Wahahaha. I am going to Hong Kong, at the end of this month!

In Semester 3 of my diploma course my groupmates and I did a research paper on political blogging and its effect on mainstream newspapers. My lecturer submitted it in for some International Qualitative Research Conference thing, and it got accepted. So it's going to be held at Hong bloody Kong on the 29th of Jan. And we're going! Whee! Hong Kong with some of my best mates!

Admittedly, the conference itself sounds to be quite dull but, I don't care. I can't wait to be greeted with unfamiliar sights, and be surrounded by Cantonese (which in normal situations would be a nightmare for a banana like me). Gonna have authentic Hong Kong dim sum, take a hell lot of photos and break my routine!

2005 is so looking up.

Now let's hope my parents won't pull some drama and say I can't go. Plsplsplspls noooo.

Listening to Modest Mouse's "Float On" because it's just full of joy and optimisim!

"Alright already we'll all float on; don't you worry we'll all float on"

The Reason.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005
6:59 PM

Bloggers go through a stage, where they question the very existence of it all. (The existence of their blogs, that is.) I suppose it's a lot like, quarter life crisis, mid life crisis .. god man, when did people become so neurotic that there are so many "life crises" out there??

Anyway, before I start digressing.. As I was saying, we go through a stage where we wonder why we even blog in the first place. It started out as a bit of fun didn't it? Updating stupid, irrelevant things that you assumed nobody would care about, like say, your cat who can flush. However! Soon the feedback start coming in ("Your cat can flush?!") and you think, "Wow, people do care about my toilet-flushing cat. Maybe they'll care to know more about how I milk the cat." Etc. [By the way, I totally ripped that off Meet the Parents and its sequel, so if you haven't seen either, you should probably get on it yeah? ;)]

Then, blogging becomes this consuming itch. Everyday, get online and open up your blog and read your favourites. Go to Petaling Street, and see what new updates have been ping-ed. As time wears on, you change blog templates, or work round the clock in creating one that'll be a visual feast for your readers. Or, the more experienced blogger might decide to move address.. bored of its old home, annoyed by how much they can't say due to their popularity with readers, which sometimes include people you know personally. Some, just stop. Cold turkey. Perhaps tired of the flame wars, or just plain bored. Change is inevitable after all.

Now why do I blog? Simply put, because of emails like this:

Dear Sarah,

Trying to put to rest a long-standing concern, and to avert potential social embarrassment, I googled "pronounce fillet-o-fish". The only site on the whole web containing the phrase was your livejournal! Congratulations.

The question of how to say the name of this most deviously titled fast food item has troubled me for years. I've never actually eaten one, nor have I visited a McDonald's for years (since becoming vegetarian, in fact), but the idea of eating their salty fast food has been gnawing subliminally at me. In a bid to find out whether there is anything veggie-friendly at McDonald's (because I am one of those silly vegetarians who eats fish), I examined their site (where the phrase 'pure beef' appears more frequently than in a wrestling commentary) and was reminded of that brave little fillet. There was not, however, any sign of a pronunciation guide. This made me afraid of going into my local McDonalds -- staffed by a spotty cockney London teen -- and making a fool of myself by saying poetically "fee-lay" instead of the hard, streetwise "fee-let". "You what?" I imagine him grunting back at me.

But your journal has cleared it up. Thanks. I shall go to McDonald's and order my fee-lay with pride.

Iain


(Now if there is anyone who can send an email as funny/witty as that, do fire them my way.)

And that dear readers, is why I blog. It makes me laugh. And, as it was in the beginning and still is now, a little bit of fun.

PS, thanks Iain.

Mr and Mrs Pitt no more.

Saturday, January 08, 2005
9:46 PM

Since everyone's so cynical about a marriage lasting a lifetime these days, I suppose the news of Jen Anniston and Brad Pitt breaking up would have people going "Finally!" instead of the approriate reactions of "OMG!", or just a simple gasp. Well I personally gasped. Silly me, had great faith in them two.

But what's there to say eh? Actor-couples spend so much time away from one another, plus they get to pseudo-kiss other hot actors/actresses on-screen, giving much room for insecurities, doubts, etc. If your other half is spending more time starring next to Angelina Jolie (for the upcoming Mr and Mrs Smith movie), I would be scared for you. It's a pity for much younger women out there though- the seeds of the fabolous Mr Pitt has not been sown. However, I suspect this would be good news to delusional women worldwide who still want to bear his child. I admit he is le hot but, it's an impossible dream. Like when I was 12 and thought Nick Carter from the Backstreet Boys was my soulmate. I kid you not.

Celebrity or not, I'm sure the both of them are going through a painful phase. They are after all, merely human. That considered, I found it amusing that the article I read ended with, "Watch ET for all the latest on Brad and Jen's breakup!". OMG, the exclamanation mark is almost too painful to watch. "See 2 people hurt, exclamanation mark." Even a period would have been more dignified. Or even an emoticon, like- :(

After reading that, I don't know why we all yearn for a little bit of what celebrities have sometimes. I can see how the glitz and glamour may be intoxicating, but as Robert Frost once wrote, nothing gold can stay. That's the con of riches, fame and adoration I suppose: you can't even mend a broken heart in peace.

(Ah. No wonder the Bee Gees put forth that question.)
(Read more here)
(I bought a fabolous new pair of jeans!)
(Is that how fabolous is spelled? Because it looks funny.)

Blistered feet.

Monday, January 03, 2005
11:15 PM

I'm finding it such a joy to blog little notes, instead of one long essay. Good for the ADD, I reckon. I went to Midvalley to look for a pair of jeans and a bag, and I finally found what I wanted- but dammit, combined, the two cost more than I could afford at that time. Disgruntled, I went ahead and bought .. shoes. Which was something I totally did not need. So here I am, almost 10 hours after I left home, with no jeans, no bag but a new pair of shoes and RM60 poorer.

Plus, blistered feet because I wore the shoes immediately, trying to break them in. (And also becuase they were beautiful)

Meet the Fockers was the funniest thing I've seen in a long while. There you go- sarah approved, if that has even ANY bearing ;P. Dinner at Chili's was, as always, fantastic. OMG we had a little swoon moment when we spotted some guy that appears in a hellotta advertisments. I took one look when I walked into the restaurant, and practically jumped on the seat that was opposite his table.

The bad thing is, I think he saw me laugh while food was still in my mouth. Shite! :D

"Mom, you were riding him like Seabiscuit."

Early to Rise.


8:34 AM

Gah. I knew I shouldn't have had that teh tarik at 11 PM.



In other news, Sting is coming to town. My god, Mr Tantric Sex himself.

Life in Fabric.

Sunday, January 02, 2005
3:46 PM

I couldn't sleep last night, so I decided to work off my restlessness by taking a good, hard look at my closet. As always, it was in a mess and initially I just wanted to rearrange and fold the clothes I so lazily dumped inside. And then I thought, why is it that I always have nothing to wear with this many clothes? It doesn't make sense. As I sat and stared at the insides of my wardrobe, I realized tht 70% of the stuff I have, I don't even wear anymore. So that was when I decided to donate that 70% to the people who really need it, namely the victims of the tsunami disaster. I figured since I'm broke and in no way able to help in funds, I might as well help in the smallest way I can- giving away my clothes.

And as I sat for 2 whole hours throwing the clothes into categories of wearable, and WTFWasIThinking, I surprisingly had a very interesting time reevaluating the pieces of clothing I once owned, the stuff I use to live in, and the stuff that I can now wear since certain body parts have arrived.



I threw this two into the donation category, tags on and all. I've never even worn these items. One was a mistake I made on an impulse buy, and tht gray sweatshirt thing was a Xmas gift that I lied through my teeth and said I liked. I don't know what my aunt was thinking. We live in Malaysia- what are the chances that I may need a sweatshirt?



Erm. I have a soft spot for beagles, hence why I like Snoopy so much. I think that was my pajamas when I was like, 7 or so. I still wear Snoopy to sleep- but in the form of big, baggy plain t-shirts. Not this weird blue, green, thing from the 80s. And erm, when I was 14, I used to walk around with Chuckie (of Rugrats) on my back. Which is weird cause I don't even like Rugrats and Chuckie has red hair.



When I was 12, I was very materialistic and brand-conscious. I liked wearing brands, and it didn't even matter if I hated the design, and it was unoriginal. Like that "Tommy Hilfiger" and "Nike" shirt on the left. Bought from our beloved Petaling Street, and never worn. Now, I could care less if what I wore had a label. And about the Linkin Park shirt- I WAS 16, OKAY! They were hot back then and I thought it was cool to advertise a band on my chest. Ugh ugh, flashbacks. *grimace*


Left: My favourite shirt when I was still much of a tomboy when I was 13-15 years old, and on the right: my very own What Was I Thinking?! top. UGH, the colours, the geriatric stripes! Both went to the donation pile.

And then there were those that I could not bring myself to throw:



That white shirt with black scribblings on it was the shirt I brought to school on the last day of Standard 6. Everyone I knew signed on it, and if you would observe to the right, contains archived Grade A 12 Year Old Humour. Whoever wrote that message must have had a crush on me back then, according to schoolkid psychology. And :D, my huge South Park shirt (bought when I was 13). My dad didn't allow me to wear it because of the words at the back, but if only he'd watch South Park he'll know that I think drugs are bad, mmmmkays? ;D



It's not much, but by the end of folding it all, I felt very tired and strangely contented. Went to bed, greeted by freshly washed bedsheets and slept with my buddy John Mayer by my side and in my ear. Probably the most comforting slumber I had this whole year, which is, well, 2 days.

"Am I living it right? Why, Georgia, why?">> John Mayer

ps: Um. Does anyone know where I can deposit all these clothes? When I woke up I realized I didn't know where to send it. :S