The Ring.

i received an interesting call yesterday.

(phone rings.)

me: hello?
woman: where are you now?
me: in the car?
woman: what time are you coming back?

wait, last i checked, all my family members were in the car with me.

me: um, who is this?
woman: what time are you coming back?
me: i think you got the wrong number.
woman: Carmen, is it?
me: nope, you got the wrong number.
woman: oh. *hangs up*

5 seconds later, my phone rang again. yes, it's that same unknown number.

me: *amused* hello?
woman: Carmen?
me: *laughs* you got the wrong number.
woman: *serious tone* dont bluff me, you're carmen. where are you now?
me: um, you really got the wrong number.
woman: *agitated* STOP LYING. you're carmen's friend. WHERE IS CARMEN?
me: WHO'S CARMEN?
woman: CARMEN. LEE CARMEN. CARMEN LEE.
me: I DONT KNOW ANY CARMEN. YOU'VE REALLY GOTTEN THE WRONG NUMBER, miss.
woman: *hangs up*

and with that, my dad's australian friend sitting at the front of the car offered to be "Carmen" the next time the lady called. which she didnt.

i think she probably finally managed to get through to her Carmen and realised that she'd really gotten the wrong number twice and had accused a stranger of lying.

look, it's okay if you get the wrong number a few times. but really, not even a word of apology? not even a "sorry"? gee, Carmen's mom. oh well, her number is still on my call log so i can actually prank call her anytime i want. awesome. victory is in my hands. woohoo.

a likely scenario...

woman: hello?
me: *muffled* hello. is this carmen's mother?
woman: yes?
me: *breathes heavily* what's your favourite scary movie?

okay, so maybe i wont really do that. i mean, i'm not that childish(i lied) and it really would be a waste of time(as tempting as it sounds). but really, some singaporeans really need to learn some real manners for their own benefits. like Carmen's mom. and everyone else who stood in front of the library door before it opened. it's getting retarded.

bring Singa the lion back!

KT Tunstall: Drastic Fantastic Tour 27 March '08

i'm trying to think of a way to describe the concert that i had just attended some hours ago.



okay, i got it. it was drastically fantastic.

okay so that was lame, but i really thought that it was FANTASTIC. undoubtedly the best gig that i've ever been to. alright so maybe i'm a little biased here, seeing how much i love KT Tunstall's stuff, but no one cares.

holy macaroni. it truly was awesome. i mean, she switched around four different guitars throughout the entire set which lasted for about 90 minutes. four! one of which included her oh-so-fabulously-beautified silver electric. she sounded completely pitch-perfect live, which was something that i knew to expect because i've watched plenty of her live performances on youtube before. but really, nothing beats watching her sing live.

come on, the lady did FOUR songs for the encore. who on earth does four songs for encores? tell me, how can anyone not love her?

bad-quality photos and videos from my mobile phone ahead. you should wash your contacts or something before viewing. i do apologise for the insane jerkiness. i was, um, pretty high.

view of the stage from where i was sitting.


closest pic i could get of her. unfortunately.


Hopeless(my favourite track off Drastic Fantastic)


Other Side of The World


Black Horse and The Cherry Tree(the legendary metaphor)


Suddenly I See

One of the encore performances.

Universe & U (one of my favourites off Eye to the Telescope)

i had a helluva good time. yes i did.

goodbye yesterday.

i dont know where i've heard this song before but since i naturally hummed along with it when the chorus came on, tune for tune, i thought i'd put the video up to share with everyone.


The Charlatans - Try Again Today

who knows? maybe you're humming along too. you just dont know it.

suddenly i see.

live in singapore.

only one more day. :)

the thrills.

i learnt something today.

that singaporeans love thrills. the thrill of crowding right in front of doors is almost unexplainable. counting down to the moment the doors open. it's so exciting!

the mrt doors. the sales store door. the library door.

yes, the library. maybe it's the thrill of being the first person to step into the library. being the first person to reach the second level. the first person to grab a seat by the window. the first person to touch a book. the first person to talk to a librarian. the first person to borrow a book. i dont know. what is it? there must be something i'm not seeing. maybe there's a pot of gold somewhere.

or maybe they all really needed to poop.

nah. must be that pot of gold.

i feel like shit.

i hate it when she does that. my mother. blaming herself and my father for not being able to provide enough money for me to further my studies in australia. i hate it.

i know we have financial difficulties. i understand that. i understand that perfectly. i'm not asking for anything. yes, it would be a dream to be able to further my education overseas, especially since this idea has been in my head since i was in my secondary school years. but all these while, i darent yearn for much, because i knew of the problems we were facing. i never asked for much.

i dont blame them a single bit. my parents. they've have been slogging their whole lives to try to provide what's best for my brother and i. i really appreciate them for that. if anything, i'll work my way to australia. maybe it'll take me a few years. so let it take me a few years.

who am i to deserve all their frustrations and worries? it wasnt necessary at all.

if anyone's to be blamed, it should be me. i should be blamed for not being able to score well enough to enter a local university. i should be blamed for not being able to please them with good grades for years. not them. me. i blame myself.

so i hate that my mom has to feel this way. many times, i've tried to explain to her that it's no one's fault that we cant afford certain things in life. some people live in luxury, some dont. that's just the way of life.

she's mad at herself, and i'm mad at myself.

it's simply my fault.
end of story.

dance, dance.

after watching Jamie Bell on Jumper, i had the urge to watch Billy Elliot again.



now i remember why i used to like it.
against all odds.

i had no idea little Jamie Bell was the same guy in Green Day's Wake Me Up When September Ends video. mmhmm.

speaking of dancing, i've had my brief experience with dance before. yes, me. in chinese dance. surprise, surprise. i was 7. but one fine day, a year later, i decided to stop showing up for practice. okay i was a quitter but i was 8.

but hey, i did keep the shoes. :)

i'm never throwing them away.

can RSH just bloody call me already?

conflicted.

where is the love? is it there? really?

which love is it? what kind?

i wish i knew the answers to these questions. i'll be honest. i feel guilty. really. i dont know if it's my fault. truth is, i dont even know if there is a problem. so why do i feel like there is? i can sense it. i was born with senses. i feel it. there's nothing wrong but it doesnt feel right either. it isnt there anymore?

maybe it really is my fault. maybe i'm the wrong reason. or maybe i'm just being paranoid. look, i've seen things. i've read things. i've never been through it, but i know what it's supposed to be like, and this sure doesnt feel like it.

i wish that i'm wrong. i hope that i'm wrong. i pray that i'm wrong.
i dont care if i'm 19. i need to be selfish.

dont guess what this is about, i'm pretty sure you're wrong. :)

meanwhile, i havent done great in my exams or anything but i guess i should be pretty satisfied with the results. oh well. i was more excited this afternoon.

i need a good song.


i feel better already.
sunshine. :)

my confession.

i have a confession to make.

occasionally, i have the urge to chokeslam a few people, and little hooligan boys whose voices have yet to break, dressed in red skinny jeans(or any colour of the rainbow), become my ideal targets.

i dont really chokeslam them though. i just try to visualise myself doing so.

when you're 4-ft tall and have yet to grow an adam's apple or understand the laws of physics, yelling profanities in public just makes you look like a lost, little colour pencil. it's like watching humpty dumpty climb back up the wall again. it's a comedy.

you guys are a joke. i will laugh at you and visualise myself chokeslamming you.

moving on. i'll appear to be more humane this time, i promise.

the idea of talking behind closed doors and being on the other end. often, people talk behind closed doors to prevent other parties from hearing what they want to say. then it gets too loud. the voices.

walls are paper thin.


damn.

losers united.

Manchester United and i have something in common.

we both sucked at our games tonight.
them, soccer. me, scrabble.

having lost 1-0 to Portsmouth in a match just now, my dad, brother and i had to put up with my mom's sulking until she went to bed. yes, my mother watches soccer. no, she's not one of those women who watches or pretends to watch soccer to impress the guys(i mean really, who does she need to impress right?). she truly loves soccer as much as korean dramas. i'm talking forgoing activities that come her way on saturday and sunday nights to stay-in for a match on tv. mrs kim is an avid ManU fan. avid. so whenever ManU loses a match, she sulks. literally. for at least an hour. i'm not even kidding.

thanks alot for tonight, ManU.

now say hello to me. i lost tonight's scrabble game. wait, i always do. okay i suck at scrabble. period.

so i caught Avril Lavigne's gig on MTV Live just now, and i headed into my room and dug out a few items.


ah, the good ol' items from my AvrilPhase.

oh yes, i had an AvrilPhase. i was 14 and a huge fan. really. not just of Avril, but also of her then bassist, Mark Spicoluk. for other reasons. cough. but of course, like most artists, here is another one that conformed and sold out. way to go, "skater-chick". nuff' said.

alas, my air-tickets are finally booked for $1255. yes that is a crapload of money. my money. but it's finally booked. oh boy.

i'm going to australia. ohboy.

BS and what you make of it.

a friend said something on the phone that cracked me up after my huge disappointment.

the disappointment over the unavailabilities of Qantas flights to australia in july. yes, july. and we thought june was the peak period.

i've made so many plans, and now there seems to be a possibility that they'll end up being pointless. just how awesome does this sound?

alternatively, i could just choose to fly SQ instead. after all, it's a great way to fly. well i'll be damned. it's $300 more, damn it. it'd better be a great way to fly.

$300. whee. *reaches into my imaginary bank and takes out my imaginary money*. woah, turns out i've got way more money in there than i thought i did. wait, my imaginary bank teller tells me i'm a millionaire. oh look, queen elizabeth just walked by.

yes, i'm being unfortunately and pathetically sarcastic(delusional). sorry, but this dream of mine came so close to reality, and now it's turning into dust. it's probably just waiting for the signal before it bursts into flames and cremates into ashes. just like that.

i am not kidding. i am disappointed.

but my friend cracked me up so bad, i needed to pee.

heartbreaking.

i cant believe i just watched the video of a US soldier throwing a puppy off the cliff in Iraq. an innocent little puppy.

i cant believe it.

i cant believe he actually had the freaking balls to do that.

sonofabitch.
bloody cruel sonofabitch.

karma will bite you in the ass so bad.

la vie boheme!

i finally got to watch this.



YESSSSS!
so i'm a few years late. but i finally got to understand what everyone who caught the movie or the broadway musical meant. what an amazing story about love, friendship and the battle for life. the cast, the characters, the music. the splendiferous direction.

i absolutely loved it.


Seasons Of Love


No Day But Today

*warning: a little explicit*

La Vie Boheme

525,600 minutes.
how do you measure a year in the life?

999.

for crying out loud, someone nab this sonofagun already.

arrest(!) this jackass escapee whose picture i chose not to blog because i'll poop in my pants if i do it.

stop roaming the streets of singapore, damn it.
please. you're making the birds poop in my kitchen.

it's not funny.