Unenviable
Why is it that I am always completely tired out on Monday? Garfield was right, Mondays are evil and there's just something in the air that saps the joie de vivre out of everybody.
Either that or captain ball is more tiring that I think.
I got back on Saturday evening from a couple days at Genting, and I slept for ten horus straight and still woke up bleary and clinging to my bed. Unfortunately, I'm very duty-ridden and I went to church. Not that that's a bad thing, but I would've enjoyed sleeping.
Let me get my thoughts into chronological order... let's see... the planning came before the trip, the ride came before the park, the announcement came on Friday night... ok.
We (Cheeky, Nick OS, Thunder Flower, Pick Lint, Stapler, Moon, and I) planned to go on Saturday originally, but since Thunder Flower's boyfriend couldn't get us hotel rooms for Saturday night (the hotel was booked solid and we soon found out why), we ended up going on Friday night instead.
We had to skip a couple classes, and since we didn't tell Serene or the Hanky (for reasons of our own), I have no idea what they conjectured. I don't skip classes as a rule, except in extremely rare cases.
The trip up was so-so, and it was like we had got into the Senior Citizens' coach: about 90% of the bus was above 60 years old. It was easy to see why they were going up: Genting is the only legal gambling centre in Malaysia, and when you have a load of old people sitting together and clutching bits of paper and money, you don't have to think much.
The old people were cranky, acting as if every minute spent on the bus was one more million slipping away from their grasping fingers. There was this old lady who jumped up even before the bus stopped at the terminal, and was nearly thrown to the floor when it braked.
(She didn't fall, of course, which is a pity since I figure she'd have spent less in hospital than in the casino. But life is life and people are people and idiots are idiots.)
We didn't do much that first day except wander around the plaza and do stuff we'd never tried before. Well, everybody else did it and I stood around taking pictures. I'm a total coward when it comes to daring physical feats.
So I've watched them climb walls, try archery, and play with practice guns. The most sweat I worked up was while bowling (and surprisingly, I threw a strike. Unsurprisingly, it was the only one I threw, and all the balls I threw after that went into the gutter).
I also got myself one of those plastic/rubber black chains with a frog pendant on it. It reminds me of some good times, specifically the two frog dissections that I have had the privilege to witness and participate in. I know, I'm sick that way, but I did enjoy them.
The guys went to the park after dark and took photos--well, mostly I took photos of Nick OS and Cheeky, since Nick refused to appear in the same photo as I without a great deal of coaxing. I think he might be a little scared of me or something.
We were playing pool when Gambler started sending SMSes about the MUET results being out. Naturally, everybody got high on adrenaline and started asking her for results.
I got Band 6, of course, just as I predicted, but none of them congratulated me: maybe I gloat too much.
[edit: Right now Serene is mad at me because I got Band 6 and she only got Band 4, and Cheeky refuses to speak English in my presence. This Band 6 has turned out more a curse than a blessing. At least I now have proof that my English is superior to the Pig's. /edit]
We stayed up till nearly 3 that night taking photos in the girls' room and gossipping (along with Thunder Flower's boyfriend, who drove up there just for her). Apparently we males like gossip just as much as anybody else, we just don't do it so often.
Or maybe this just applies to Cheeky, Nick OS, Thunder Flower's boyfriend, and myself.
The next morning is the day that shall live forever in my mind as the day I went 50 metres up in the air and didn't get a heart attack. Or maybe the day I screamed as loudly and as high-pitched as I wanted--in chorus with Cheeky. (Nick OS doesn't scream, he just turns green and buries his face in his arms.)
The theme park rides were great. At least the adult rides were, and each one deserves its own paragraph.
The Whirligig: I'm not sure if this is its proper name, but it's what I call it. Everybody gets strapped into seats attached to the ceiling by four wires, and then the ceiling starts spinning and tilting and everybody starts flying and screaming. I kept on trying to raise my legs up since I couldn't believe that my legs weren't going to scrape the roof of a nearby booth (probably placed there just for me).
The Solero: A pillar 50m high and it can be seen from pretty much anywhere in the theme park. It's a good place to cure your altophobia... or to start suffering from it. I don't have a fear of heights, so it was OK for me, but I hate free-falling. So yeah, I screamed on this one: but only for the first fall (about 25m). After that, the falls get smaller and smaller (about 10m, then 5m, then 2m) until you get back onto terra firma. I couldn't walk properly for a bit.
The Corkscrew: Something like a roller coaster. My most memorable thought is "My glasses are gonna fall off! Wait a bit. Centrifugal force..." And behold, my glasses did not fall off. I screamed too, but that was only while we were upside down or falling down fast.
Bumper Boats: Bumper cars, but on water. The best thing is that if you go fast enough, bumping throws up a wall of water that may hit either party (bumper or bumpee).
Flume Ride: My favourite ride. It's the only one where I can remember Cheeky admitting his fear (because the girls weren't around to listen, I expect), and it's the one where everybody got soaked. Cheeky was worst hit: his pants were completely drenched, and his butt dried last, so he was walking around with two large wet spots until lunch.
The Spinning Cups: Another of my favourite rides (notice that all my favourites were firmly on the ground). I was sitting with Nick OS for this one, and it's how I know he turns green: I turned the wheel to make the cup spin, and he immediately groaned and buried his face for the rest of the ride. He surfaced every now and then, but since I was focusing on turning the world into a kaleidoscope of green... well, he turned green too. And he couldn't walk straight either. To be honest, I wanted to throw up when it finished, but the lunch had cost a lot and I didn't want to waste it.
I don't think there are any other rides we took worth mentioning, except maybe the bus ride back to KL, which I spent sleeping beside some old man who kept on complaining and totting up little figures on a paper pad.
I bet he lost a good deal.
A note to everybody out there: if you would tell me where I can find a large pink strawberry on a chopstick-style hairclip and a small pink butterfly on a crocodile hairclip, I'd be quite grateful. More specifically, the Pig would be very grateful, since his girlfriend (I only found out about her yesterday night) lost those items half a year ago (!!!) and is still crying about them, he says (!!!!!!!). So if you'd tell me (or him) where to get these items, thanks.
[edit: The pink strawberry isn't urgently needed. And I looked up both their Friendster profiles and they're still both listed as Single And Available... go figure. /edit]
Anyway, right now I'm going through a reaction to all the endorphins of the past few days. It always happens: I go out, I feel good, and then a little after everything dies down, I sink into depression. Like last night, when I was having myself a little self-pity party.
Basically, I found myself pathetic. I still do. Refer to the title of this post--that's what I am. Unenviable. Go on, try and name something I can do that nobody else in my place could. You see? You can't name anything.
Twist fingers into weird shapes? Rattle off seven synonyms for crap? Sing in utter disharmony? Hardly useful.
If the bunch of us were on Survivor, I'd be the first one voted off: I'm completely impractical. When you want to survive, what you want is somebody who can lop down trees and hunt meat or grow veggies or find nice empty caves to shelter in or pull together branches and stuff for beds, like Cheeky. You don't want somebody in spectacles who can't lift much more than ten kilos to string together a couple hundred conjunctions and gerunds, what you want is food and shelter and useful stuff--none of which I could possibly do.
What else? Let's see. In the corporate world, for instance. What you want there is somebody with an instinct for numbers and a good deal of gut instinct, somebody who can figure out the best deals and how to get those, who can sweet-talk their opponents into pretty much anything. Plus you need somebody with a great deal of common sense. Again, not my field.
Or how about right now, in school life? Hello. I'm a geek. Geeks, by definition, don't have lives. It's normal people who go on shopping sprees, go work out, go clubbing, or whatever it is that normal people do. How would I know? My comfort zones are clearly marked out: school, home, computer lab. I venture out now and then, but for the most part I practice xenophobia.
Maybe what I want is to be envied the way I envy others: I look around me and I see people who are everything I'm not: popular or muscled or rich or comfortable or good-looking or well-dressed or whatever, I can always find something to envy in others except when I look in the mirror. What is there to envy about me, really? My bottomless pit of self-pity? My spendthrift habits--I spent RM200 in two days on Genting--?
Hah.
The worst thing about all this is that I know I could change myself if I wanted to. If I really wanted to put in the necessary effort or spend the necessary cash or whatever it is that I have to do about it. But I won't, because I'm too lazy and apathetic about myself to bother any more than I absolutely have to.
Maybe it's just that I'm getting used to hating myself the way I used to hate the world: "It is what it is, and I hate it; but what can I do to change it? Nothing."
So? Maybe I might learn to--not love, since that is too high a goal for me to consider at the moment--maybe tolerate is more achievable--so, maybe I might learn to tolerate myself in the future. Maybe, if I were to become more like my idea of perfection and less like my current state (which is my idea of imperfection).
Maybe. Never mind. At the moment, I shall have to live vicariously, the way I have lived for a long time: seeing the world through others' eyes. After all, why should I do anything for myself when others can do it far better--and make a good story out of it too?
Either that or captain ball is more tiring that I think.
I got back on Saturday evening from a couple days at Genting, and I slept for ten horus straight and still woke up bleary and clinging to my bed. Unfortunately, I'm very duty-ridden and I went to church. Not that that's a bad thing, but I would've enjoyed sleeping.
Let me get my thoughts into chronological order... let's see... the planning came before the trip, the ride came before the park, the announcement came on Friday night... ok.
We (Cheeky, Nick OS, Thunder Flower, Pick Lint, Stapler, Moon, and I) planned to go on Saturday originally, but since Thunder Flower's boyfriend couldn't get us hotel rooms for Saturday night (the hotel was booked solid and we soon found out why), we ended up going on Friday night instead.
We had to skip a couple classes, and since we didn't tell Serene or the Hanky (for reasons of our own), I have no idea what they conjectured. I don't skip classes as a rule, except in extremely rare cases.
The trip up was so-so, and it was like we had got into the Senior Citizens' coach: about 90% of the bus was above 60 years old. It was easy to see why they were going up: Genting is the only legal gambling centre in Malaysia, and when you have a load of old people sitting together and clutching bits of paper and money, you don't have to think much.
The old people were cranky, acting as if every minute spent on the bus was one more million slipping away from their grasping fingers. There was this old lady who jumped up even before the bus stopped at the terminal, and was nearly thrown to the floor when it braked.
(She didn't fall, of course, which is a pity since I figure she'd have spent less in hospital than in the casino. But life is life and people are people and idiots are idiots.)
We didn't do much that first day except wander around the plaza and do stuff we'd never tried before. Well, everybody else did it and I stood around taking pictures. I'm a total coward when it comes to daring physical feats.
So I've watched them climb walls, try archery, and play with practice guns. The most sweat I worked up was while bowling (and surprisingly, I threw a strike. Unsurprisingly, it was the only one I threw, and all the balls I threw after that went into the gutter).
I also got myself one of those plastic/rubber black chains with a frog pendant on it. It reminds me of some good times, specifically the two frog dissections that I have had the privilege to witness and participate in. I know, I'm sick that way, but I did enjoy them.
The guys went to the park after dark and took photos--well, mostly I took photos of Nick OS and Cheeky, since Nick refused to appear in the same photo as I without a great deal of coaxing. I think he might be a little scared of me or something.
We were playing pool when Gambler started sending SMSes about the MUET results being out. Naturally, everybody got high on adrenaline and started asking her for results.
I got Band 6, of course, just as I predicted, but none of them congratulated me: maybe I gloat too much.
[edit: Right now Serene is mad at me because I got Band 6 and she only got Band 4, and Cheeky refuses to speak English in my presence. This Band 6 has turned out more a curse than a blessing. At least I now have proof that my English is superior to the Pig's. /edit]
We stayed up till nearly 3 that night taking photos in the girls' room and gossipping (along with Thunder Flower's boyfriend, who drove up there just for her). Apparently we males like gossip just as much as anybody else, we just don't do it so often.
Or maybe this just applies to Cheeky, Nick OS, Thunder Flower's boyfriend, and myself.
The next morning is the day that shall live forever in my mind as the day I went 50 metres up in the air and didn't get a heart attack. Or maybe the day I screamed as loudly and as high-pitched as I wanted--in chorus with Cheeky. (Nick OS doesn't scream, he just turns green and buries his face in his arms.)
The theme park rides were great. At least the adult rides were, and each one deserves its own paragraph.
The Whirligig: I'm not sure if this is its proper name, but it's what I call it. Everybody gets strapped into seats attached to the ceiling by four wires, and then the ceiling starts spinning and tilting and everybody starts flying and screaming. I kept on trying to raise my legs up since I couldn't believe that my legs weren't going to scrape the roof of a nearby booth (probably placed there just for me).
The Solero: A pillar 50m high and it can be seen from pretty much anywhere in the theme park. It's a good place to cure your altophobia... or to start suffering from it. I don't have a fear of heights, so it was OK for me, but I hate free-falling. So yeah, I screamed on this one: but only for the first fall (about 25m). After that, the falls get smaller and smaller (about 10m, then 5m, then 2m) until you get back onto terra firma. I couldn't walk properly for a bit.
The Corkscrew: Something like a roller coaster. My most memorable thought is "My glasses are gonna fall off! Wait a bit. Centrifugal force..." And behold, my glasses did not fall off. I screamed too, but that was only while we were upside down or falling down fast.
Bumper Boats: Bumper cars, but on water. The best thing is that if you go fast enough, bumping throws up a wall of water that may hit either party (bumper or bumpee).
Flume Ride: My favourite ride. It's the only one where I can remember Cheeky admitting his fear (because the girls weren't around to listen, I expect), and it's the one where everybody got soaked. Cheeky was worst hit: his pants were completely drenched, and his butt dried last, so he was walking around with two large wet spots until lunch.
The Spinning Cups: Another of my favourite rides (notice that all my favourites were firmly on the ground). I was sitting with Nick OS for this one, and it's how I know he turns green: I turned the wheel to make the cup spin, and he immediately groaned and buried his face for the rest of the ride. He surfaced every now and then, but since I was focusing on turning the world into a kaleidoscope of green... well, he turned green too. And he couldn't walk straight either. To be honest, I wanted to throw up when it finished, but the lunch had cost a lot and I didn't want to waste it.
I don't think there are any other rides we took worth mentioning, except maybe the bus ride back to KL, which I spent sleeping beside some old man who kept on complaining and totting up little figures on a paper pad.
I bet he lost a good deal.
A note to everybody out there: if you would tell me where I can find a large pink strawberry on a chopstick-style hairclip and a small pink butterfly on a crocodile hairclip, I'd be quite grateful. More specifically, the Pig would be very grateful, since his girlfriend (I only found out about her yesterday night) lost those items half a year ago (!!!) and is still crying about them, he says (!!!!!!!). So if you'd tell me (or him) where to get these items, thanks.
[edit: The pink strawberry isn't urgently needed. And I looked up both their Friendster profiles and they're still both listed as Single And Available... go figure. /edit]
Anyway, right now I'm going through a reaction to all the endorphins of the past few days. It always happens: I go out, I feel good, and then a little after everything dies down, I sink into depression. Like last night, when I was having myself a little self-pity party.
Basically, I found myself pathetic. I still do. Refer to the title of this post--that's what I am. Unenviable. Go on, try and name something I can do that nobody else in my place could. You see? You can't name anything.
Twist fingers into weird shapes? Rattle off seven synonyms for crap? Sing in utter disharmony? Hardly useful.
If the bunch of us were on Survivor, I'd be the first one voted off: I'm completely impractical. When you want to survive, what you want is somebody who can lop down trees and hunt meat or grow veggies or find nice empty caves to shelter in or pull together branches and stuff for beds, like Cheeky. You don't want somebody in spectacles who can't lift much more than ten kilos to string together a couple hundred conjunctions and gerunds, what you want is food and shelter and useful stuff--none of which I could possibly do.
What else? Let's see. In the corporate world, for instance. What you want there is somebody with an instinct for numbers and a good deal of gut instinct, somebody who can figure out the best deals and how to get those, who can sweet-talk their opponents into pretty much anything. Plus you need somebody with a great deal of common sense. Again, not my field.
Or how about right now, in school life? Hello. I'm a geek. Geeks, by definition, don't have lives. It's normal people who go on shopping sprees, go work out, go clubbing, or whatever it is that normal people do. How would I know? My comfort zones are clearly marked out: school, home, computer lab. I venture out now and then, but for the most part I practice xenophobia.
Maybe what I want is to be envied the way I envy others: I look around me and I see people who are everything I'm not: popular or muscled or rich or comfortable or good-looking or well-dressed or whatever, I can always find something to envy in others except when I look in the mirror. What is there to envy about me, really? My bottomless pit of self-pity? My spendthrift habits--I spent RM200 in two days on Genting--?
Hah.
The worst thing about all this is that I know I could change myself if I wanted to. If I really wanted to put in the necessary effort or spend the necessary cash or whatever it is that I have to do about it. But I won't, because I'm too lazy and apathetic about myself to bother any more than I absolutely have to.
Maybe it's just that I'm getting used to hating myself the way I used to hate the world: "It is what it is, and I hate it; but what can I do to change it? Nothing."
So? Maybe I might learn to--not love, since that is too high a goal for me to consider at the moment--maybe tolerate is more achievable--so, maybe I might learn to tolerate myself in the future. Maybe, if I were to become more like my idea of perfection and less like my current state (which is my idea of imperfection).
Maybe. Never mind. At the moment, I shall have to live vicariously, the way I have lived for a long time: seeing the world through others' eyes. After all, why should I do anything for myself when others can do it far better--and make a good story out of it too?
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