Thursday, March 30, 2006
Trailers
All of a sudden, I feel like watching a romantic comedy trailer. Trailers always cheer me up. Right now, I'm downloading the trailer for The Break Up, writing this blog to keep me busy. Guess I just need that little emotional pick-me-up of a typical Hollywood Ending. Which brings me to two points.
The first is very quick and to the point. Trailers are awesome. I can't get enough of them. They take the best parts of a movie, and summarise it into a one-minute plus bit of entertainment that leaves you waiting in anticipation for an often disappointing movie. Why we love them? Humans love anticipation, whether it makes them excited or miserable. A weird mix of what I'm feeling right now. Thus the trailer craving.
The second, is that while society loves to put the pressure on men to go out of their way to romance a woman, they seldom put it the other way. Why? Because girls often do 'romantic' things to guys all the time. However, this avoids one sad fact. While Hollywood has made damn sure that guys know what girls perceive as romance, girls don't really have much of a clue of how to make guys feel the same mushy way inside. Here's a hint. It has little to do with flowers, balloons, poems, or a thousand neatly folded paper stars.
The element of surprise is the common theme. But unlike what you might think, it doesn't always have to be sexual, either. Although it often is.
How to make a guy feel warm and fuzzy inside? Make him feel grateful for you. Buy him something he really likes, after fighting months with him about it (Playstation, Alonso cap). If you're not together yet, show up at his doorstep with nothing but a smile on your face - let him do the rest. Hold his hand and say nothing halfway through an argument. Kiss him when you think he's lost and he doesn't want to admit it. The pattern here is that if you already know he loves you, make him feel like you love him back, for all his faults, and to make him feel damn glad that he's got you.
Man, I'm having a hormone burst here. Gotta cut down on those chicken breasts.
The first is very quick and to the point. Trailers are awesome. I can't get enough of them. They take the best parts of a movie, and summarise it into a one-minute plus bit of entertainment that leaves you waiting in anticipation for an often disappointing movie. Why we love them? Humans love anticipation, whether it makes them excited or miserable. A weird mix of what I'm feeling right now. Thus the trailer craving.
The second, is that while society loves to put the pressure on men to go out of their way to romance a woman, they seldom put it the other way. Why? Because girls often do 'romantic' things to guys all the time. However, this avoids one sad fact. While Hollywood has made damn sure that guys know what girls perceive as romance, girls don't really have much of a clue of how to make guys feel the same mushy way inside. Here's a hint. It has little to do with flowers, balloons, poems, or a thousand neatly folded paper stars.
The element of surprise is the common theme. But unlike what you might think, it doesn't always have to be sexual, either. Although it often is.
How to make a guy feel warm and fuzzy inside? Make him feel grateful for you. Buy him something he really likes, after fighting months with him about it (Playstation, Alonso cap). If you're not together yet, show up at his doorstep with nothing but a smile on your face - let him do the rest. Hold his hand and say nothing halfway through an argument. Kiss him when you think he's lost and he doesn't want to admit it. The pattern here is that if you already know he loves you, make him feel like you love him back, for all his faults, and to make him feel damn glad that he's got you.
Man, I'm having a hormone burst here. Gotta cut down on those chicken breasts.
No agenda rant. You have been warned.
This is possibly the first blog I've written without any noted agenda. It's pure heartpour. While I'm sure that I'll reach some sort of conclusion by the end of it, I start it with none.
Let's summarise a bit. It's the first day for a long while without an sms by GoMD. I'll leave you to figure out the abbreviation (i don't even know why I'm using one). I imagine it's going to be the first of many, as I wait out a situation that might not even have an ending. I bumped into her this morning, and we chatted, but my phone's been pretty silent the whole day, and I miss the wonderful tos and fros of a good SMS conversation. Yes, many of you probably don't have a clue what this is about, but I don't really care at this point. This is my message in a bottle - the reason I started this blog in the first place.
For reasons unexplained, I sit at home with hope in my hand. If she's reading this, then that hope is still there. I'm not one who easily falls in love (I think my ex's can attest to that). But when I do (two previous times in my life that I can clearly remember), it's usually with someone who can't do anything about it (lesbian, taken).
But for some reason, each time when I do, I always feel that there's a chance. That hope usually doesn't die until the love for that person finally fades away (three years or more). Again now, I'm in the same situation. Feeling so close, yet so damn far. And once again, the hope is there, refusing to die despite the odds.
Maybe you're wondering when I'm going to learn my lesson and stop hurting myself. To that, I reply that hope is the most beautiful illogical thing ever created by man. A person who doesn't hope is one who doesn't truly feel alive. Ah... maybe now I've latched onto a subject.
Hmmmm...
Nah, still aimless. MAybe I'll come back to this later. Can't think of any witty conclusions for this one. I miss you.
Let's summarise a bit. It's the first day for a long while without an sms by GoMD. I'll leave you to figure out the abbreviation (i don't even know why I'm using one). I imagine it's going to be the first of many, as I wait out a situation that might not even have an ending. I bumped into her this morning, and we chatted, but my phone's been pretty silent the whole day, and I miss the wonderful tos and fros of a good SMS conversation. Yes, many of you probably don't have a clue what this is about, but I don't really care at this point. This is my message in a bottle - the reason I started this blog in the first place.
For reasons unexplained, I sit at home with hope in my hand. If she's reading this, then that hope is still there. I'm not one who easily falls in love (I think my ex's can attest to that). But when I do (two previous times in my life that I can clearly remember), it's usually with someone who can't do anything about it (lesbian, taken).
But for some reason, each time when I do, I always feel that there's a chance. That hope usually doesn't die until the love for that person finally fades away (three years or more). Again now, I'm in the same situation. Feeling so close, yet so damn far. And once again, the hope is there, refusing to die despite the odds.
Maybe you're wondering when I'm going to learn my lesson and stop hurting myself. To that, I reply that hope is the most beautiful illogical thing ever created by man. A person who doesn't hope is one who doesn't truly feel alive. Ah... maybe now I've latched onto a subject.
Hmmmm...
Nah, still aimless. MAybe I'll come back to this later. Can't think of any witty conclusions for this one. I miss you.
Monday, March 27, 2006
The Worst Game Ever
Do you guys know the game? The one that's played equally by both guys and girls. It's a pull and push affair with stupid rules like "don't call her for three days" or "don't talk about your ex-es". Basically, like rules of many other games, it's just alot of 'don'ts'. The basis of the game is that you can somehow make someone fall for you by just playing with the levels of feelings in their heads.
I hate the fuckin game. Seriously, I do. And it's not just because I was never any good at it. It lowers humans to this common denominator. Like, it doesn't matter whether you're short, tall, ugly, smart, fat, an optimist, a pessimist, a communist or a bloody axe-murderer. As long as you know the game, you're on your way to charming someone of the opposite sex.
I've played the game myself. I should apologise, if it weren't for the fact that it's hardly ever a single-player game (man, how geek do i sound now?). Ok, to the slower ones, we're talking about lurrve here. Yup. You pull a bit, give a bit, and pull somemore. If she pulls, you pull back. If she pushes you pull back for a while, then push again. And somewhere in there, you forget who you really are.
But sometimes you meet someone who for some strange reason doesn't play the game. She gives and takes without thinking too much about it. She says things even knowing that she might someday have to pay for them. For a while, it infuriates you. You're so used to playing the game that the rulebook is all you've got. You try all the usual tips and tricks but they don't work. Until that point where you just kinda wake up and remember who you were before you started playing.
Ok, I'll stop talking in third person. I'm sure it's unnecessarily confusing. Besides, the person I'm talking about is probably reading this blog right now. I've got alot to say to her, but of course, in something as public as a blog, you've got to stay a bit mysterious la. So, if you're listening, forget all the other stuff. All I've got to say to you is...
Thanks for not playing.
And I mean that in the bestest way possible :)
I hate the fuckin game. Seriously, I do. And it's not just because I was never any good at it. It lowers humans to this common denominator. Like, it doesn't matter whether you're short, tall, ugly, smart, fat, an optimist, a pessimist, a communist or a bloody axe-murderer. As long as you know the game, you're on your way to charming someone of the opposite sex.
I've played the game myself. I should apologise, if it weren't for the fact that it's hardly ever a single-player game (man, how geek do i sound now?). Ok, to the slower ones, we're talking about lurrve here. Yup. You pull a bit, give a bit, and pull somemore. If she pulls, you pull back. If she pushes you pull back for a while, then push again. And somewhere in there, you forget who you really are.
But sometimes you meet someone who for some strange reason doesn't play the game. She gives and takes without thinking too much about it. She says things even knowing that she might someday have to pay for them. For a while, it infuriates you. You're so used to playing the game that the rulebook is all you've got. You try all the usual tips and tricks but they don't work. Until that point where you just kinda wake up and remember who you were before you started playing.
Ok, I'll stop talking in third person. I'm sure it's unnecessarily confusing. Besides, the person I'm talking about is probably reading this blog right now. I've got alot to say to her, but of course, in something as public as a blog, you've got to stay a bit mysterious la. So, if you're listening, forget all the other stuff. All I've got to say to you is...
Thanks for not playing.
And I mean that in the bestest way possible :)
Thursday, March 23, 2006
The first good week in a long month
I have to say, I'm feeling rather good about myself these days.
For the first time in a long time, I was actually excited to see my name in print. I've been in journalism for a good long three years already, so it's no big kicks to see my name in print these days.
But recently, I was awarded the privilege of a media pass to the Malaysian GP. Sure I got Alonso's signature (and something else that I can't reveal on these pages), but even more exciting than that, I was in the post-race press conference room after the first race in 24 years that my team has scored a 1-2 finish.
So that's like a big deal enough right? For most F1 fans, that's like a dream come true already. But I wanted to bring it one step further. I knew from experience that if you ask a question during the press conference, it gets printed on the official FIA press release, which in turn, goes out to almost every F1 website in the world. So I knew I had to ask a question.
I didn't really care what question it was, and to be honest, I was nervous as hell when I asked it (I actually asked it before another journalist finished his two-part question... how embarassing). But sure enough, I did. And it's on almost every F1 website in the world.
http://uk.sports.yahoo.com/20032006/13/post-race-fia-press-conference-part-ii.html
http://www.planet-f1.com/News/Story_Page/0,15909,3210_3213_1099479,00.html
http://www.grandprix.com/race/r752sunpc.html
http://www.formula1.com/news/4136.html
Yeah, it's all the same article. Hope you didn't click on all of them and boycott my blog as a result.
For the first time in a long time, I was actually excited to see my name in print. I've been in journalism for a good long three years already, so it's no big kicks to see my name in print these days.
But recently, I was awarded the privilege of a media pass to the Malaysian GP. Sure I got Alonso's signature (and something else that I can't reveal on these pages), but even more exciting than that, I was in the post-race press conference room after the first race in 24 years that my team has scored a 1-2 finish.
So that's like a big deal enough right? For most F1 fans, that's like a dream come true already. But I wanted to bring it one step further. I knew from experience that if you ask a question during the press conference, it gets printed on the official FIA press release, which in turn, goes out to almost every F1 website in the world. So I knew I had to ask a question.
I didn't really care what question it was, and to be honest, I was nervous as hell when I asked it (I actually asked it before another journalist finished his two-part question... how embarassing). But sure enough, I did. And it's on almost every F1 website in the world.
http://uk.sports.yahoo.com/20032006/13/post-race-fia-press-conference-part-ii.html
http://www.planet-f1.com/News/Story_Page/0,15909,3210_3213_1099479,00.html
http://www.grandprix.com/race/r752sunpc.html
http://www.formula1.com/news/4136.html
Yeah, it's all the same article. Hope you didn't click on all of them and boycott my blog as a result.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
I'm on bail!
it's been a pretty horrible week for me by anyone's standards. In organising my first photo shoot with the mag, i managed to piss off three agents, one competing editor and an apparently (from what i've heard) stereotypical diva model. On top of that, BOTH my PCs got burnt this week from TNB's funky power supply (maybe they're trying goddamn durian power or something), spent about RM400 repairing one of them, missed out on my entire gaming weekend due to fixing it, and dealt with rejection from the girl of my dreams (like literally... every night she's there... it's almost irritating).
Today, for the first time in my life, I'm on bail. See, last year, i got caught with an expired road tax. What i didn't know is that the summon wasn't compoundable (i.e. it means you have to appear in front of a court instead of just pay it off). So yesterday, three cops dropped by my house, scaring the crap out of my mom (yes i still live with her... can't get enough of the home-cooked meals).
they gave her a number, and said i was to be ARRESTED for a traffic offence. Today, i went to the station, and the officer was almost too nice, telling me that it was normal and that he'd put in a good word in court.
IN WHAT!?
It was then that he took out an envelope and asked me how much money i brought. I told him RM400. He took it, and then smiled to assure me that he wasn't pocketing it. He made me sign this letter saying that I agreed to come into court the next day (which at time of writing is in about 10 hours). I asked him how much it was likely to cost and he told me to bring about a grand just in case. Honestly, it's about what i expected.
Pretty bad so far right? Well, here's where my optimism kicks in, thank to a bit of divine intervention from someone upstairs. This morning, when i woke up... there was a message from someone who'd heard my voice on the voice guild website (www.thevoiceguild.org). To those who don't know, doing radio commercials is my rather lucrative side income (well, lucrative once i get my first cheque, for a job i did 4 months ago). Anyhows, the guy told me to go to his place (home studio) at about 12.
So i finished up at the police station, sent a few shock smses about my first time on bail, and went to Sri Damansara to the guys house. Within half an hour, i was RM300 richer in cash. I find it quite amazing that my first really expensive crime and my first cash payment for a radio commercial happened on the same day. Even though it doesn't quite balance out, i was walking around with a stupid smile on my face the rest of the day.
It's almost like God reminding me that I used to be an optimist before. That I used to view every day like i did today. Somewhere somehow i've lost that, but today reminded me of the wonders of optimism in even the worst situations.
I hope tomorrow's better.
Today, for the first time in my life, I'm on bail. See, last year, i got caught with an expired road tax. What i didn't know is that the summon wasn't compoundable (i.e. it means you have to appear in front of a court instead of just pay it off). So yesterday, three cops dropped by my house, scaring the crap out of my mom (yes i still live with her... can't get enough of the home-cooked meals).
they gave her a number, and said i was to be ARRESTED for a traffic offence. Today, i went to the station, and the officer was almost too nice, telling me that it was normal and that he'd put in a good word in court.
IN WHAT!?
It was then that he took out an envelope and asked me how much money i brought. I told him RM400. He took it, and then smiled to assure me that he wasn't pocketing it. He made me sign this letter saying that I agreed to come into court the next day (which at time of writing is in about 10 hours). I asked him how much it was likely to cost and he told me to bring about a grand just in case. Honestly, it's about what i expected.
Pretty bad so far right? Well, here's where my optimism kicks in, thank to a bit of divine intervention from someone upstairs. This morning, when i woke up... there was a message from someone who'd heard my voice on the voice guild website (www.thevoiceguild.org). To those who don't know, doing radio commercials is my rather lucrative side income (well, lucrative once i get my first cheque, for a job i did 4 months ago). Anyhows, the guy told me to go to his place (home studio) at about 12.
So i finished up at the police station, sent a few shock smses about my first time on bail, and went to Sri Damansara to the guys house. Within half an hour, i was RM300 richer in cash. I find it quite amazing that my first really expensive crime and my first cash payment for a radio commercial happened on the same day. Even though it doesn't quite balance out, i was walking around with a stupid smile on my face the rest of the day.
It's almost like God reminding me that I used to be an optimist before. That I used to view every day like i did today. Somewhere somehow i've lost that, but today reminded me of the wonders of optimism in even the worst situations.
I hope tomorrow's better.
