Dawning of a New Era

Greetings. I hail from 2011. Life's been good and not so good lately. I try not to dwell on the latter.
It's been such a long time since I've last updated. What can I say? Life goes on, we have all changed.

Was reading the posts dating from 2006. Dude, that's 5 years ago. You're ancient, man.

So, what arrived in that spanking new 2011 package? Okay, not spanking new, per se. But you'd get what I meant, I suppose.
I left my full-time employment in mid 2010, plunging into the freelance realms. I am now thinly spread across various schools in the name of music education.

Coming back to the topic of "Plans", where I have left off at the previous post (was it only last year?). I certainly hope I can return to studying. Goodbye communications, you worthless piece of crap. Hello Music Education/ Performance. Am keeping all fingers crossed for auditions to go as smoothly as possible.

My friends are mostly overseas. Good for them.
Bitter pill for me to swallow. But a ninja's got to do what a ninja's got to do.

I'm facing a different battle this time. Battle of financial responsibilities, abandonment issues(?), employment of contracts and all the other shite with compliments from Mr Life.

Are you sensing resentment?

Probably.

I can say for sure that 2 years ago, despite all complaints and childish whinings, I was a happier kid back then.

Canada (Y /N).

Plans.

Nope, not that Death Cab album. But hey, it's a great album. And a fantastic band.

Plans.
I guess I'm 28 days too late for resolutions.

But hey, it seems like resolution-making lost all it's appeal thanks to Twitter. Our attention span (and thoughts) has been capped off at 140 characters (inclusive of spaces and uh... punctuations, darn).
Oh and Tumblr, too. But let's not venture into uncharted waters. I'm very comfortable at where I stand techgeekologically, and am very resistant to change in the world wide web.
This is why I often resort to filling up all 140 characters with "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" or "GRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH".
It's not my fault, I swear. It's a chore, especially when I try to cram my thoughts into a paragraph. And I LIKE punctuation. And if you know me well enough, my thoughts are never organised and often illogical.


My violin teacher can vouch for that.

" Think logically!" he hollered.

"Wha.....?"

And I took that darned wooden stick and brought it across the strings. The triple stops howled, and died a painful death.

That wooden stick cost me 200 bucks.


My new guitar cost me five hundred bucks.

I haven't played it for three weeks until yesterday.

See, it's like driving a sports car- you will never ever want to drive a Toyota if you own a Maserati.

It made the rest of my guitars sound like firewood.



I bet you're starting to get the "my thoughts are never organised" part by now...


Where was I?
Oh, right.


Plans.

Let's take a look at my current situation first, shall we?

1. I'm employed. I hold a diploma which does no good to my job, whatsoever.
2. I spend more on music than anything else. (Think CDs, instruments, accessories, books, lessons, exams.)
3. I'm ballooning in my office chair every minute from 8am to 5pm. Every. Single. (Week)Day.

And now, the future...

1. I will not be rich. That's for sure. You can't earn much in this field, not even if you're a professional solo artiste. I bet my entire collection of coloured socks Lady Gaga is earning more than Yo Yo Ma since the start of 2010.( Please don't correct me if I'm wrong. I'm lost in reverie, and I can't bear to part with my socks. They mean so much to me. Just leave me be and let my brain self-detonate.)
2. Music education.
3. My son will be known as 'Helicopter'. Maybe it'll be his middle name or something, but I have this strange feeling he'll want to kill me even before he's conceived if I ever have the guts to put that down in his birth certificate.
   
4. I will never call my daughter 'Helicopter'.
   
5. If I don't get married, my cat will be called 'Helicopter'.

What I wish for my short-attention span (SAS) self to accomplish in the near future:

1. Arrange a piece of music to be played with all the instruments I own (and I can borrow... I hope I can get my hands on a dhol).
   
2. Finish watching Bleach. Maybe I'll get to explaining my newly-acquired taste for anime/manga in the next post. That really depends on SAS.
3. Save enough money.
   

What I plan to be, really, is to:

1. Become a great music teacher. Not like my first crappy teacher who taught me how to hold the violin and increased the fees quarterly just because. All you money-sucking 'teachers' out there- STOP. You're destroying my kids.
2. Marry a christian man. Stop laughing. I know I go to church once a month. Or less than that. And I don't spend a lot of quality time with God. I secretly think He'll send me straight to Hell. I'm sorry. :( Can I blame it on SAS?
   

Alternatively, I would love to tour Europe and meet some random, gorgeous stranger on a train. He is witty, funny, able to sustain an interesting conversation on religion, love, and all things too heavy for casual banter without making it sound like some lecture on philosophy. Oh and we kiss under the stars and make love. And separate the next day, promising to meet 6 months later without exchanging numbers or twitter accounts. Oh, and he plays some music too (my own input here).

Hopefully, he looks like this:

And I shall go on:

1. See above.
   
2. See above.
   
3. Get back to writing. I know I suck now, I haven't written anything for more than a year. Cut me some slack already! And I'll try my best to become more reader-friendly.

Yes, I've been doing a lot of thinking for the past few months.
Doubts, fear and bitterness crowding my mind. Waging internal battles with myself.
I've been doing quite a fair bit of planning here and there, but as of now, nothing seemed to suffice, except that I know (finally) what I want to be at the end of the day.

What else is there to do?

Gotta have a lot of faith, like George Michael does.

I don't know what the heck happened.

And so I was idling away on facebook...
UNTIL I SAW THIS.
My gosh. WHY AM I SO FAT NOW?
I look like a tub of lard compared to a year ago.

brb, am going to smash my head into wall repeatedly.

Sigh, I miss the times...

Who said classical music was relaxing?

Beautifully captured, intense, and thoroughly gripping.
We miss you, Jacqueline Du Pré..

Experimenting Play

This is the confessions of a true blue geek.
Despite having been diagnosed an ENFP (translate: CAPTAIN WILDCHILD) by the free MBTI personality test online, I find comfort in snuggling up alone in front of the screen on most Friday nights."TAMMMAAAAKIIII SUOUUUU<3~"
Oh wait, it wasn't Friday. Yesterday was Thursday (GOD BLESS LONG WEEKENDS, I LOVE SO YOU MUCH).

I was seized from my humble dwellings and chucked into the middle of a dancefloor.
This is the story of a self-confessed "Yeah I know I've been missing out on a lot because I'm 20 and I haven't been to a club till yesterday". Heh.

So I got home from work, had dinner, practised a bit on the violin. Sounds like a typical work night.
Showered. Still normal.
Dolled up and left the house. In heels. (YES I KNOW, THIS IS SUICIDE.)
Reached the train station and seconds away from the gantry, I regretted. So I turned around and went home in want of the sneakers I love very much.
"Screw it, not gonna care how mismatched I'm gonna look."

Well, it didn't match so I ditched the entire outfit. (Yay sneakers and brand new attire)

Since I was very late (I'm so sorrrrry charmms), I took a cab.

Got to the destination. The line was so long. The crowd was different. The walls were vibrating.

I was scared shitless. (Think the risk of permanent ear damage)
"Nooooooooooooo what if I can't hear the resonance of GDAE after tonight? SHITSHITSHIT."

Anyways, met some new people, they were all pretty cool. I thought I was pretty queer.
Hell, yeah. I was terrified. Like some baby polar bear in a cargo truck en route to Sahara.

Got to the front of the line. They asked for my ID.
In my mindless attempt to stuff everything into my borrowed clutch earlier on, I have forgotten about my ID.

"Sorry, if there's a raid and you don't have an ID, we'll all get into trouble."
It's a sign. We were just never meant to be, Valerie and Happening Night Life.

But the friends didn't let Val off. And Val didn't want to let the friends down.
So off in a cab she goes, in pursuit of The Great Identity Card.
See? Told you I was queer. I felt like I was dubbed the greatest loser on Clubtomania.
Which idiot leaves her ID at home on a night out?

Got home, retrieved the ID card and a received dirty glare from an unhappy father ("Still going out?!").

Got back. The club was full. The person who turned me away from before saw how pathetic I looked, now with the ID, let me in free.
Yes, girl in blue shirt. I will remember you and love you for as long as I live on Clubtomania.
Wait, I can't love you. You probably love someone else, and she's probably a million times smarter than I am on this whole new, intriguing subject. If clubbing were ever objectified, I swear, it'd be a glow in dark piece of goo. Mysterious, and glow in the dark.

( I'll come to the "she loves her" part in a bit).

Got in. Dance floor was packed. But since it was still early, it took a while for the crowd to warm up a bit. So everyone was just hanging around, bobbing to the beats. *boing boing boing boing.
Everyone except for this couple who was already at it. Kissing. Making out.
Not the groovy kind, or the tender lip-locking kind.
Its the "My Hands Are Pulling At Your Hair And We Are Moving From One End of the Dance Floor To Another Energetically. If Not For Our Lip Locking, People Would Think We're Wrestling" kind.

Wow. This is amazing.
It's a gay club, so if you have any reservations against them, please just stop reading. I like them, they're nice people. So let's not get personal here.

Okay, so we got our drinks and hit the dancefloor.
I. Have. Never. Danced. In. Twenty. Years. Of. My. Life.
(unless you count that time we had to do line dance in PE)

It was pretty cool. Some people could really dance. My friends can dance! Some people just bounced along. Some just made out ( I've already gotten used to it, but "Wrestling Duo" pwned everyone in the Showmanship category).

I tried to swing my arms like how I saw some people do.
I felt like an orang utan instantly.

Some people knew the words to all the songs.
I only knew two words, so every time it comes on, I'll "AMERICAN BOOOOYYY" like never before.

Some people danced alone. Some people with their partners. Others did the rain dance.
Those who rain danced didn't give us much space, so countless times (I repeat with emphasis on "Countless") our bodies hit each other.

Me (while "dancing"): Omg, some girl is kissing my ass with hers!
XX: -_-, that's dry humping.
Me: AWESOME ASS KISSING, BABY!
(Okay, I know I was quite high)
Me: ASS KISSING, ASS KISSING, ASS ASS KISSING!
( I was quite glad it was a girl, and it was a gay club, because if a boy ever tries to ass kiss, I would totally scream).

-

Someone: Whoa, super crammed.
Me: WHAT??
( Music was pretty loud.)
Her: SUPER CRAMMED.
Me: OH YES, LIKE TUNA!
Me: TUNA TUNA!! TUNA IS A SEXY FISH! Sexaye sexaye TUNA TUNA! *dances*

This is where the ENFP thing rings true. ENFPs have the ability to seem intoxicated, even without alcohol.

Unicorns.

Okay, attention flickering. Off to direct it to something else. This is a long post. It's tiring.

For the people who were wondering where the heck I was

I was working.
In actual fact, I am working.

Yes, I'm a full time employee in a real company, benefits and all.

I love the company, but I don't dwell on the fact that I enjoy my job scope as much now that I've switched over to full time (it's a different position, don't ask).

In the meantime, yours truly has been working on getting the right qualifications, taking the relevant classes, overdosing on John Mayer and Yehudi Menuhin.

Go me.

Remember when

Remember when you're at a loss and you don't know what to do?
Remember when you want to get the hell out of this place and start anew somewhere else?

I'm so tired.

All I want to do now is forget everything that has happened for the past 20 years, move across continents to a country house.

And live a s-l-o-w life.

Without Facebook.