Cruel Summer

Finally, the month of August had passed and if I have to have one last
look at it, it's been hell both literally and not literally. Heat
waves and el nin yo are driving me crazy. While my friends in Sydney
had been complaining about how freezing it is there, here I am melting
each and every minute of the day.

A lot of things had happened this month. Everything was mostly bad but
I'm glad I have got out of it and have dealt with them quite nicely.
My sister's issue, my butt wound and my unhealthy diet routine. Well,
I guess there's always a better end to a bad fucked up things in life.
Now my sis is safe for the moment at my mom's, my butt has healed and
I've lost 11 pounds in the month of August.

Adding to that, today marked the first day of work. Office work but
quite responsible and pretty vital contented area, I was as nervous as
a nun in a gay pub. I had to go to a three hours meeting and spent two
hours writing the minute for that meeting. Honestly, it's quite
tiring, given it's hot in Burma and the new working environment is
just a bit too new for me. I'm lucky that I got good workmates though.
One from Thailand, one Italian and one Burmese, all women in the same
office I am in. I went and had a drink with Steve, his wife and the
designer after work for like twenty minutes. It was nice to see them
and I told them about Moley and how I couldn't get Dimple outta my
head yet. Apparently, this Friday, there'll be a big stalking mission
in Sedona.

I came home and exercised and watched Dragonball, which was
surprisingly quite entertaining. So, yeah, September marks the month
of my new life routine. Work on week days, DVDs at night, catch up on
Fridays with friends and always looking forward for the weekends.

Visit to my Mood Museum

I knew something fucked up was bound to happen today, given the two days before had been a bit TOO good for my liking, especially now that I'm in Burma and not in Sydney anymore. I mean, seriously, who gets to be around cute boys who seems to be so close to you for two days in a row in a 'preferrably straight' country?

My grandparents called my sis and my mom up to come by. They did come and thanx to the party last night, I woke up late and was very ignorant of what was going on. Later, I found out that it so happened that my brother in law actually called my house up, yep, the house I am living in now which is the house of my grandparents from my dad's side, to curse the shit outta his ass to my grandma who happened to pick up the phone. At first, he asked for my granddad.

So, we had a bit of a family meeting and after a lot of talking and re-assuring, my sister was ready for yet another divorce. I was so proud of her and full of plans until we got back to my mom's house and when the motherfucker ended up in front of my mom's gate, ringing the shit outta the gate bell. My mom lives with my two aunts, a nephew, a niece and her parents, who are way older and a bit 'quiet and just old' when compared to the grandparents I live with. So, as soon as you have this raging motherfucker in front of a gate, the whole house started to panic and this drove my sister to tears til the point where she ran out of breath to say 'Yes, I want to break up with you' on the phone to my brother in law. So, it all ended with the motherfucker apologizing on the phone and my sister sleeping early.

On the other hand, I got the job.. yep, the job where I had to translate English stuffs to Burmese and other stuffs. I have given my best during the interview but I am quite positive my translation would have been horrible. However, for some reasons, I was quite confident in hoping I would get the job. So, now I am going to work for two months with them on a project with one month probation as AS3AN N4rg1s P3r10d1c R3v13w Tr4ns1t10n T34m Ass1st4nt. Remind me to thank my 'l33t' friends later but seriously, my blog is something I wouldn't want to appear as the first thing on google if they ever search for any of the words in that phrase. I feel nervous yet quite proud and this is one hell of a good job with a good pay and this will look super on my resume.

I guess in life one has to sacrifice the worst for the best. I had the shortest day of my life today, given things happened so fast and it was just literally a huge rollercoaster ride. I felt a lot of things in one day as well and the fact that I still have Dimple on my mind kinda makes the day even more interesting. So, I guess today is the day where I got in touch with my feelings. The anger, the happiness, the greed, the sadness, the patience, the evil or the innocent. You name it.. I felt almost all today.

Goosebumps in the Stadium

Today was the day that I promised my sister that I'll take her out, just to remind her how good the world is outside her caved up fucked up relationship with her husband. Sadly, she was in one of those states, unknown to men, which can only be described as 'monthly leakage', 'monthly visitor' or 'inverted volcanic eruption'. This day just happened to be her worst and this was the first ever time that she was even feeling impatient or angry for no reason just because she had her 'female' issues.

So, I just took her to a shop near my mom's place with butt load of cousins and aunts who all came with us. It turned out to be one big social event and it's been so long since the last time we all group up and had a feast. But then, my birthday present for her went to waste since she couldn't make it to the backstage freebie ticket to a punk rock concert.

I went to the concert, given that it's KP's band biggest second live concert. It may be because I haven't been in Burma for five years but the setting to this concert was ONE HELL OF A SURPRISE. The stage setting was as good as Nickelback's or Pink's. The design, the two big screens at the sides, the smoke, the laser guns and the lightings. This was one big fucking cool live show in Burma I've ever been to.

KP's band sang 40 songs live, a couple with the violin people. The crowd was insane. They were fully supporting him because they respect him. Now, I've seen Burmese crowds where the crowd thinks they're much more important than the singers and they'll just sit and watch. This crowd was different. They were one big fat orgy fest of crazy haired motherfuckers, either on pills or drugs, or even just sober and having shit load of fun. The audiences' response to KP's comments on stage was super. It was quite friendly and there wasn't any part of the show where the crowd stopped moving. It was just one of those shows you just feel happy for your friends and have goosebumps all over your body. I know I was never this popular and I don't really see myself on that stage one day anymore but knowing my friend had smashed it makes me equally happy and I was at the side of the stage smiling the whole three hours the concert took.

Burmese guys have the tedency to be very openly touchy with one another. You kinda find these in simple Burmese guys who don't really rely their whole lives on knowing what's right and wrong in the world. One of KP's friends was next to me during the concert. He's got this cute mole on his upper lip and I think 'moley' is the most appropriate name for him. Moley was just very touchy with me the whole night. Touched my hip while he put his arms around my waist, hugged me outta nowhere, put his arms around my shoulder and even backstage, he would put his legs leaned against mine or just be totally close to me when it comes to body contact.

Maybe I was still feeling a bit gay after the incident the night before with the cute boy at Sedona, who I have not yet named. Let's say Dimple. So, with the effect that Dimple had on me, I was feeling quite a bit 'open minded' when it comes to people in Burma. So, I kinda wandered off in thoughts thinking moley was somewhat curious. The good thing about him is the fact that he is quite attractive, has the best personality and is indeed a very helpful friend. He cracks jokes with me twice every fifteen minutes and we both are a huge fan of giggling our asses off, even without the marijuana.

I kinda just let that feeling slide at the afterparty when we sat quite apart and he didn't really approach me that much and given I made a lot of homosexual jokes about myself, I guess he wouldn't wanna be around someone that openly ok with his sexuality. It so happened that he was in the same car with me, when this dude offered to take us both home. Before he went off, he told me he would like to see me again and that he would ask KP when we're meeting up again so that he'll get to hang out with me. Now, isn't that just misleading? Damn cute straight people who are quite 'more than ok' with men-to-men body contact!!!!

That Boy

I used to have very little hope when it comes to the 'scene' in Burma and I'm talking about my kinda scene, you know, the one where the same gender finds it amusing to make out in public type. So, with no hope at all, I was quite reluctant when it comes to guys here. No matter how hot they are, I refuse to even wonder if they could be lured into homosexuality, let alone think they're gays.

Friday night... a night when people go out to have fun after five days of work and that's the kind of life I've always wished for because for once I just want to look forward to the weekends. Back in Sydney, my weekdays were normally procrastination and uni work where weekends are for work. So, I end up with five days of no motivations and two days of hard work and hard partying, which would then loop to yet another week of five days of no motivations.

Steve, his wife, the designer and I went to Sedona once again. This time round, I do trust the designer, given Steve's wife seems to be ok with her. I mean, I love this chick. She's just awesome and fun but I have a bit of a doubt in her only because she was a bit of M's groupies. I did talk to her later on about it and I told her what I want and what I don't want. I said I only wanna have fun with friends here and I would avoid anything that would lead me to anything that involves a 'he said' 'she said'. So, I made it pretty clear that I do trust her now and I could actually have fun with her and hang out.

Now, back in Sydney, only two types of gay guys go me in clubs; old perverts or low esteemed people. Now, being someone who judge anyone on looks and personality, it would totally tear me to shreds when even a good looking guy seems so loose in the head. I wouldn't even get turned on in bed if I ever find a hot guy stupid or just fucked up. So, it's just useless to go to clubs or pubs to 'get to know' people. It DOES happen once a while but it's always the second best of third best good looking of the crowd.

Knowing Steve's wife and the designer are a big fan of my gaiety, I know they would do ANYTHING to hook me up even if it involves making stories up to make whatever the reality is seems a bit too good. So, this cute guy was there in Sedona. He played pool and apparently, he was staring at me the whole time. And yes he was gay because he came with three other guys, where one of them was an acquaintance of the designer who's gay. I did spot him but I just stole a glance, knowing I rather get rejected in Sydney than in Burma by a hot guy. Thirty minutes later, he came to our side of the pub with a Thai gay boy.

I have to say of all the tricks I've heard and seen, this Thai dude has the best. He spotted Steve, my British friend. Now, when you go to a white guy and say 'Hey I know you' in an Asian country, I'm sure the white guy would be very interested how he would know this Asian guy. There would hopefully be a conversation but there'll ALWAYS be a hand shake. So, the Thai boy shook Steve's hands and then introduced him to the cute guy and this resulted as both of them shaking the hands of all of us. Then, Steve's wife and the designer started getting overly excited on how this cute guy likes me. I was like 'meh... can't be'.

Now, I saw the cute guy wandering around my radius and I chose to believe it was just by co-incidence. So, I just didn't take a good look at what he was doing but when I asked the designer later, he was walking to and fro from a distance checking me out. The designer gesticulated him to come to our place and made him sit near me. He raised his alcohol glass to do the whole toast thing. I was empty handed and then, the spark started.

He looked at me, smiled and offered his drink to me. Now, in front of me was this cute Burmese guy with a dimple on his right cheek smiling his ass off and politely offering me his drink. So, that was impression number one. I guess I was IN the game. So, fearing he would play the whole hard to get game, I just stayed normal and started talking to him about stuffs. Then, one of the Filipino chicks who were singing came to our table and talked to him in English and he seems pretty good with it. Impression number two, knowing I'm not gonna sound like an idiot, given my Burmese vocabulary is quite limited. Impression number three was when I noticed he stayed as close as he could to me when people took pics of us.

Yes, the night was going well until I noticed I didn't ask for his number before I left. Now, this wasn't because I was out of my head. This was because I just don't want to start anything or hurt anyone while I'm here. I know for a fact that I'll be for only a short while and playing around with a cute guy who totally digs me is not the top priority on my list. Now that I think of it, I could've just be honest and told him that I'll be here for a couple of months. But the doofus in me totally did not ask for his number. So, hoping I would see him next week same time same place, this happy gay boy looks forward to seeing this cute boy again.

Friends and Socialites

A socialite... if you ever say that word to me, the first thing that comes to my head would be Tori Spelling, then Paris Hilton. Back in the 90210 days (god, I'm so old), Tori used to be such a huge socialite. Now that Paris Hilton rules the 'socialite' scene, people tend to forget that the term 'socialite' exists way before Paris was born.

If you ever talk about Paris Hilton, the first thing that comes to my head is a blond bimbo. I'm not a big fan of hers but I think she's just having fun, doing what she can and doing what she wants to do. For that purpose, I do give her a thumbs up.

When I got here, I met some of my friends.. well, let's just say 'acquaintances'. It's ridiculous how some of them talked to me and acted like they know me ages ago. It's even funnier when some of their profiles have pics of them with Paris. One girl actually has a pic of her and Paris. Me and a friend of mine believe that it's a fine work of photoshoppage. Another girl actually likes Paris and thinks she's cool. So, my point is all these mid-20's in Burma are trying so hard to be in her shoes. Money, glamor, sex, drugs.. you name it... they want a piece of their fingers in that mess.

A friend... if you say that word to me, normally I could list shit load. I used to feel guilty for having so many at first but come to think of it, I do indeed treat them as friends. I'm the type of person who wouldn't judge them on whichever case they are in. Being a transformed socialte-turned-hermit myself, I could empathize all the way to my friends who don't really make it big in the scene. In fact, I find it more pleasing to have an evening with a group of friends I love with alcohol and snacks in one of their houses. A friend, to me, is someone I care about.

Now, as I have mentioned so many times before, I have only three friends here and I could call them my best buddies, given they are all I ever care about. KP, Steve and double A and of course their lovely wives.

KP has a punk band and I have to admit, they're quite big in Burma. They might not be the Michael Jackson of Burma but they could qualify as a Green Day of Burma, given they have struggled hard to get there and they, in fact, know the real shiz in music.

This week, I got myself five backstage tickets to KP's concert for me, my sis, Steve, Steve's wife and Joel. Admittedly, these are the people I have been myself around and I have hung out in houses with alcohol and just play PS2 with. That is the only reason why I got them. I didn't have to try hard and I didn't actually love KP for the fact that he's popular. In fact, I've known him way before he even started his own band.

Now, this girl, M, has been saying shit between us. In summary, she's been trying to blend in to our group because KP is popular and not to sound like a huge brag, I DO have a lot of reputation when it comes to socializing. So, people do know me and the fact that I have added some of them on facebook, a place where I'm openly gay, turns out to be this great taboo to talk about. "So, is he really gay?" "How do you know?" "Do you know him?" "Does he say it honestly to you?". Now, if M was clever, she should have just shut up and got our trust but instead, she had to mingle her way through us and had to backstab my good friend, Steve, and bitch about him to KP's wife. Yes, the infamous high school trick, the inner-network-backstabbage.

I had dinner with KP and his wife today and we talked about how a lot of people just, all of a sudden, came up to him or just me or Steve's wife just to get a piece of 'intimacy' with popularity. First of all, we are not a groupie. We are a group of friends and by friends, I mean, REAL FRIENDS.

Now, M is wavering her 'OMG I know this band and I can get backstage tickets' flag. Another girl, 'the director' wants to tape the live concert to use it as a footage for her movie pro-bono. I mean, seriously, it's like an amateur director asking Green Day if she could tape them, use them for her movie pro-bono and sell it out to the crowd as her debut film that has Green Day in it. Of course, Green Day fans would start purchasing that movie, thinking if the whole band's actually a part of the movie. And we got another girl, the designer, who is actually a designer for a famous model-turned-actor here, who wants an extra ticket for him and the whole point of this is to mingle with the 'popularity' crowd.

It's not by contact that this band is famous. I've seen my friend try hard to get his popularity and by popularity, I mean he has his own audience and crowd. Just because he has a show this week does not actually mean you could get a big fat greedy finger dipped into this bowl of 'popularity'. It's almost like stealing the fame.

So, as I have mentioned, it makes me sick how a lot of mid-20's chicks in Burma has actually turned into a mini-Paris-Hilton wannabe. Paris has a point. Her dad is rich and she, herself, owns hotels. All I've known, from my point of view, is that some celebrities suck up to her. Now, these Burmese socialite-wannabes actually would lick anyone's balls to get into the 'fame' record. All I wanna say is "darls, do you even own your own car, let alone hotel". It's amazing how people want to be icons before they actually even try to achieve it. I think an 'icon' comes and goes a long way. You cannot just be someone by indulging your fake interest into something that you're not into. You cannot just pact on my shoulder and say "Hey, I'm your buddy" just because I'm famous. It's even sadder that some of them have been trying so hard to get in contact with me THIS WEEK just cos I know KP or just cos I'm talked about. I do not see myself as a celebrity anymore first of all. I see myself as Hein, the family man who cares about friends and who has quit the showbiz scene because it's full of untalented assholes who just reign for the time being via money they borrowed or just sugar-daddied from some rich fucktards.

Trust me, the scene is ugly and I am so glad I am not a part of it. Days like these, I feel so lucky that I'm actually grounded and sane as opposed to those superficial wannabes who just wanna reign their little cloud nines for a short period of time.

I have a goal and I'm going for a career. Fuck fame. I feel famous by a lot of friends who love me and care for me. I feel fortunate to have a family that supports me and I feel real that I am indeed a proud homosexual NOT BECAUSE being gay is in but just because I do get attracted to the same gender.

I'm just gonna sit back and watch these peons try their asses off and laugh as a comedic ridicule. I mean, it's quite entertaining to see people fall because of their stupidity. Get real, peeps. Superficiality is sooo yesterday or in fact, it never even actually existed.

Living On Vulnerable Enthusiasm = LOVE

Have you ever had one of those dreams where it's just so friggin real and when you wake up, it feels like your dream was the day you've lived before? At 5am, there I was lying down on bed, reminded how 'love' feels like.

It's not like I've ever experienced love in my life before. My ex and I were a case of needy and clingy users. Yes, Simon was cool but he was a backpacker who had a thing for this Burmese guy who was in need of someone to take care of him. Being the first relationship that I was in and since being gay in Sydney was like a competition in a meat market or just a test where the winner is the one who can resist the three sins - greed, jealousy and anger, it all went downhill after two months of lovey dovey cakes and cards and a house we both lived together in. So, if you ask me, I've never felt love before.

However, I'm a romantic at heart. Number one fan of chick flicks and feel good romcoms, I do believe there is such thing called fate or love. I also do believe that there's one for everyone in the world. You just have to let yourself go at the right time to the right person. I have even felt a huge crush on people before. It's the feeling where you wanna spend most of your time with that someone. You just can't help it and he/she is always there whenever you notice you're breathing. That feeling you get when he/she smiles at you, when he/she is actually interested in you and when he/she responds the same way as you do.

If I have to word people in Sydney, be it Caucasians or Asians, they are huge pansies when it comes to 'love'. I am not only referring to Oxford St. Seriously, I've been a fag hag of a lot of people in Sydney and I have to say not a lot of people dare to go the whole run when it comes to 'love'. There are two scenarios..

1. You get tired of looking for the 'perfect one' and you start to take the second best and after several months of being together, you bump into 'the one' and then you go for 'the one' and you start to notice that you have used the 'second best'. So, the second best gets bitter or the culprit feels quite guilty, given he/she is not an asshole-in-process. This is called the 'rushing' scenario.

2. You keep looking for the 'perfect one' and you've found one but such insecurities force you to leave the one you're with, in hopes of finding the better one, who MIGHT be the 'perfect one'. This may leave you in doubt and unfinished relationship. I mean, you left your ex just because you could go for the perfect one but of course you still love your ex.

So, people fail to just sit on their asses and enjoy and KNOW FOR A FACT THAT it is REALLY hard to stay true to someone. Thus, they swing, they sway and they mislead themselves in different directions.

Ok, back to my dream. I was choreographing a dance routine with a guy with a moustache. Hot body and hot looks BUT WITH A FUCKIN MOUSTACHE. Then, we danced for a while and we started making out. Turns out that I had a crush on him way before this dream actually started but that feeling... that feeling when he kissed me.. it was just urghh... love? Then, we held hands and walked to his car and while he was getting his other car for me to get up to, something woke me up and there I was with the feeling that my true love with a moustache has left me for good.

In all honesty, I was down. I know it's stupid to have been affected by a dream but I got so down and a bit depressed. Will I ever feel that in reality? I was talking to Sean (one of the people in Sydney I haven't met) and when I mentioned to him that I wanna feel that way in Sydney, he went offline. I'd like to think that his internet connection sucks.

I got an email from the ASEAN Nargis group for a job interview. I went to the interview and there was a Thai chick who I know and a Burmese woman. After summarizing about their 'thing', I was asked to do two tasks. I only finished one with great difficulties. How would I be able to translate an English review to a Burmese review while typing them to a computer. I used like one whole hour for two paragraphs. I don't really think they were impressed. I mean, if I were the employer, I swear that would not be that appropriately impressive. However, since I am actually asked to do lots of stuffs if I get the job and since they know I have a huge ass weakness in Burmese language, I still do have hopes. I guess it will be funny if I actually get this job.

I can't stop thinking about this love thing. It's so unnecessary at the moment when I have this job interviewed in progress, a PR to wait for, friends to avoid, friends to give time for, a sister to take care of, a family to spend time with and of course, an identity to stay hidden in the closet. So, why on earth am I craving for love once again? This is SOOOOOOO 2004.

Inner Heins

The life of a runaway socialite continues today as I avoided yet another meet up.

I have decided that I would only hang out with Steve, KP and double A and without them, I don't really think I'd like to go out. Given, as I have mentioned before, that I am on a tight budget, it's ridiculous to be spending it away on others rather than the mentioned three.

Today, a friend of mine called me to join her for dinner. A big fan of gossip and I got to know her as a second degree friend, I wasn't in the mood to go with her. So, second degree called me on the phone to join her and the director. The director is a daughter of one of the famous movie directors in Burma and despite the fact that I do like her attitude, I know that she is yet another big mouth to avoid. Also joining them, we got 'the sister', who is a big sister of one of my ex-best friends in Burma. Well, this best friend and I used to hang out a lot and I used to have a huge crush on her but we decided that 'best friend' is as far as we could go. So, she, by proxy, became my best friend. I do like her although she was yet another socialite who likes to know everyone and every details of every gossip. Apparently, she's not really into that much gossip anymore and she is now in Singapore anyway. So, we got second degree, the director and the sister, joined by some more other girls that I had no idea of. I have one word for that dinner conversation. Trouble.

Recently, second degree had done a bad boo boo on one of our friends. Ok, so we have Z and M, both wives of two best friends. Second degree told Z that M's husband hates her. And Z told M and M is not happy at all. I'm glad Z and M actually had a talk about it and they've resolved this 'made up' tale about M's husband. So, when I have a fresh meat troublemaker on my friend's list, my senses say 'avoid'.

I have to admit I do like second degree a lot and it's such a waste to hear these things back. Do I believe Z and M? In fact, I do. Do I really think second degree would get in between and say shit? Hell yeah. Second degree likes to know everyone and she's actually made friends with anyone who's out in the scene. The IN crowd. No matter how stupid they are or how fucked up they are, second degree doesn't really care but just blend in well in the "IN" crowd. It's even more ironic when she would tell me shit about other people in the "IN" crowd. It's fun to listen to but come to think of it, why would she still hang out with them and tell shit behind their backs if she, herself, thinks them dumb?

So, there you go... another friend to avoid. Such a shame really.

Today, I helped my sister pack up her things from her house. When I say 'her house', I mean the house that she used to live with her husband. Her husband left that place and went back to his place and I have to say, I'm glad my sis is outta that place. It's a rat hole. It's stuffy, hot and just fucked. It's like this huge coffin made for people to die while suffocating. No sunlight, no air and no nothing and the ceiling was so low that I even have to nod down whenever I walk in there. I don't really blame my grandma for giving them such a crappy apartment but seriously, one cannot live there. So, I'm really glad she's finally decided to live with mom, who lives with her mom in a bigger house that fits like seven or six.

This is yet another chapter of my 'omg now I know how fucked up my family is while I'm having fun in Stonewall sipping Long Island Iced Tea' book. It's like a huge slap in my face to get down to earth and see reality and to stop imagining my family is as rich as before. I mean, we used to be one but now it's separated between my mom and my grandparents and both their houses are big but so unmaintained. Even worse when my sis used to live on her own with her hubby in that dinghy hole. If only I could provide her an apartment we could both live in in Sydney by the time she gets there to study.

I guess this makes me the 'man of the house'. Now, which part of my body yells out 'man of the house'. I don't know stocks and I hate doing business and I'm a labor bitch, who just likes to work a nine to five or any casual shifts and end up in clubs or a pub in the evenings. I guess it's yet another wake up call to evolve. If there was an inner Hein, who's always annoying but right, (well in the cartoon it's always the one with the halo), he would be saying 'Time to get serious, Hein' while the inner Hein with horns would be like 'Enjoy life as it is cos you deserve a better life'.

Meh... I'll choose the halo for now. About time I give his advice a shot.

Runaway

It takes one to know one... a phrase I always live by. When one is so sure about the what the other one is up to, you just know that he/she has been there done that. Has he/she learned from it? Who knows... and that's the scariest part.

As much as I hate to say it, growing up in a big house with a big garden, big enough to play golf in, with another small house for the servants and one huge two storey building for the cars and guests, I find it quite hard to accept the truth at times, especially when it comes to my lifestyle at the moment. It's just so hard to admit or even say things out loud. Like "I'm broke" or "I can't come cos I'm outta money". I end up giving other excuses or avoiding calls.

It's not as if I am poor but when one don't have incomes but just an outflow of notes, with any percentage of sanity provided, he/she would start panicking. Yes, I do too. Staying in Burma with one directional cash flow is not really that comforting, especially when the inflow is actually supported by your grandparents, who don't really work anymore. So, it's like sitting on a bank account until it goes zilch. That is, of course, if I don't have a right mind.

Now, as anyone would know, despite the fact that I have only three friends I love and trust here, there are other 'acquaintances' or 'old shool friends', who are dying to meet up with me and this would end up easily as yet another outflow of cash for unncessary coffee charges or just lunch or dinner, especially when I have my own grandmom, mom and my maids who cook way better than any restaurants in Burma combined. It also does not help that one of my three friends don't know the other two. So, whenever I hang out with Steve and KP, double A would feel a bit out of touch and vice versa. The honest truth: I prefer Steve and KP cos we just end up slouching and enjoying just breathing air and doing nothing. I guess we're just cool that way.

Now, I'm faced with 'hang out' debts for double A and also a hang out with my old school friend, who actually lives outside the city I am in at the moment but apparently she's in town. So, what do I do? Hmm.. at the moment, I'm thinking of a 'sick' leave or just 'lost my phone' routines, which would double the insecurity about myself not being that.. umm.. honest?

It even sucks more that I'm bothered about not going out with someone at least twice a week. The ex-socialite in me shines like a big fat spotlight while someone ties me up on a pole on the stage, while the audience points at me and laugh their asses off for being such a hypocrite. Yes, I pay socialites out but although I've quit my job as one, the habits remain. That's why it takes one to know one and I can spot on bitch about any socialites, especially the bitchy ones, as soon as I see one. It's like word vomit on my blog entries, not like my blogs aren't long already.

I guess I'll just do what's most comfortable for me at the moment. That is, to lie, and honestly, I'm not that proud to do this but let's just say I'll change eventually. Just not the right time to, given the post-sister-issues and post-buttwound drama.

Speaking of butt wound, it has FINALLY healed.. not to the end but quicker than before. The well had been filled ages ago but the new tissue on the top just comes out dead and these have to be chipped off during the 'three times a week' hospital visits. Today, there was no chipping involved and my butt wound welcomes a new growth of fresh tissues as opposed to the dead ones. Hopefully, it'll fully heal by the end of this week cos I really hate having to schedule my shower times to the time when my granddad is home, given he's the only one who can repatch my wound after every shower and if I just keep it open without any hydrogen peroxide or iodine, it would rot and prolong my 'wound unhealage' time.

On yet another news, I am not sure if I've blogged about this but we had three puppies and only ONE of them survived and this puppy is one fat mama who can't really walk with her legs, given her belly flops out way lower than her limbs. Today, her eyes opened. Yeah, it's a bit of a slow process for puppies to open their eyes after birth and finally I can judge on this petite canine as it's growing into a 'looks-judgeable' size as opposed to an overgrown embryo with four tiny limbs and of course an erected one inch tail.

I really hope the 'friends' won't really mind me being such a runaway. I just hate to admit I'm broke and that I don't really have a car I own. Public transport? Well, you wouldn't wanna travel at all once you've tried Burmese public transports. It's not like I'm a snob but if I ever get that poor, I think I'll be cool enough to go on those bad public transports but for the time being, I just prefer my car and of course I wouldn't want my wallet stolen. Amen!

The Strength of a FiberGlass

A fiberglass... I used to think of it as a weak strand of fiber reflecting light. Despite its size, I guess I've underestimated its strength.

When I was a kid, my grand-dad used to tell me this story of an elephant and an ant who quarreled with each other on 'power'. So, as we all know, the elephant is bigger and way stronger than an ant but the ant challenged him to a battle of some sort. So, the ant started and he bit the elephant and the elephant screamed. When it was time for the elephant to show the ant his strength, he stepped on the ant (well, this story did not really take place on a flat surface and just for the sake of this blog entry, imagine a leafy ground) but the ant was small enough to hide under a leaf below his feet. So, I guess the moral of the story was no matter how small you are, it doesn't really prove your strength. Hear that, Asians? Hah!!!

I was upset and depressed few weeks ago when I described myself as a fiberglass. It was such a depressing blog entry but as usual just to keep myself sane, I do have a bit of hope in every upsetting events in my life. Maybe that's why I called myself the fiberglass.

I am not leaving Burma as yet but I have achieved something. First of all, my sister's issue with her husband brought our family together. My grandparents and my mom seem to communicate with each other a lot lately. Even though it wasn't really done literally, it was done via me. So, I seem to be like this satellite phone between the two. It's not really skeptical to prove how much they're closer now especially when they're using me to communicate between them but the things they all say have soften up and they do seem to care about each other a lot.

Although I did not write much about my sister's issues on my blog, I am quite happy and pleased to announce that it is taken care of. Things are looking much brighter now and I'm sure if things go smoothly as planned, my sister will have a better life. I'm glad that I'm here right now when all of these shit happened mainly because I know what it's like and I took enough action to deal with it.

The most important thing about this trip back to Burma is the fact that I have gained so much trust from my grandparents and my mom. I came back home at 1am last night and my grand-dad had to open the gates for me. Normally, I wouldn't talk to him and we'd just sleep. I'd feel guilty and he'd feel tired. But, last night and I swear it was the best thing that could've happened between my grand-dad and me, I sat near him on his bed and showed him every pictures I took in the club and we talked about my friends. He looked at them one by one and made some smartass remarks on some. We were both enjoying our grand-dad to grandson time at one am in the morning after the grandson comes home from a club.

If I have to be honest, I would not have done a good job at solving my sister's issues if it wasn't for the trust of both my grandparents and my mom. My mom trusted me to ask help from my grandparents and my grandparents trusted me on everything I report to them. And every action that we took, I guess for once, we all took it altogether as opposed to having someone who chicken out or go against you. At the same time, talking with my sister showed me how much I'm making up for the five years of absence. It wasn't easy for my sister, especially when I'm the type of brother who sneaks his sister to see her boyfriend without letting the mom know. My sister missed me and it was nice to regain her trust through our thorough reunion. Of course, we love each other but it feels good to have your sister talk to you about her issues and you telling her what you think.

I was never this close to my family to be honest. My friends always praised me for having a good grandmom, good grand-dad, a good mom or a good sis. But I've never felt it as deep as I am feeling these days about what they say. Normally, I'd just be happy that they seem to think my folks are cool but these days, I have come to actually enjoy my family's company and also agree that in fact, my family is the coolest no matter how fucked we are. I used to write this down a lot at times just to make myself happy and not lose faith in how we can be better as a whole. I guess, now, I'm way much stronger in my new point of view about my family.

I guess they'd feel the same. As people grow older, they grow more distant from those they love fearing about how the others would judge them or their changes but little do they know that they are not alone. Everyone feels this. All we gotta do is speak up and share our stories with those we love and live as much as we can with them. I'd like to say that I've grown way more open to my grandparents, my mom and my sis now than ever in my life.

My friends are right; I have a cool family.

And I guess this still shows that as a fiberglass could feel the weakness about its size and strength, it can still feel quite proud of the way large amount of light could be emitted from something as small as itself.

Twenty Eight

Time.. it waits for no men. Wrinkles.. it waits for no age. Maturity.. now that's something that waits for you.

As planned on Wednesday, the plan for the night was to party at Sedona Hotel with the crew and Jellybean before he leaves for Thailand on Sunday. The first plan was to actually chill out at Steve's house for his school party.

Steve works as a homeroom teacher in an international school and he's decided to throw a party for his workmates at his place on the night which happened to be the same night that we all decided to party at Sedona. So, I was over at Steve's house. Knowing the people at the party would be folks from age 20-no limit, I wore a red slim tie over a smart casual sleeves rolled up long sleeved shirt with a bootleg jeans and a black shiny shoes. I look like a mid thirty homeroom teacher myself.. but of course, a good looking one.

Now, as predicted, the party people were of all age and nationalities. From a fat bitchy Dutch chick who's married to a Burmese scumbag to a hip fifty years old Canadian who has a huge passion for grunge music, the party wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Even KP, who's usually claustaphobic and 'hanging around strangers'phobic, ended up talking to a lot of people around him. Few good people involves Herman the German and his amazing Burmese wife who makes the best kische, two weeks old in Burma Aussie guy Brian and his Indonesian pregnant wife with a white rimmed glass, the kick ass fifty plus Canadian Ron who loves grunge music with his wife Martha, the sexy Filippino chick Dori and her boyfriend, who I didn't really get to know, and her sister Rachel and quiet but friendly Aussie dude Glenn.

Talking with the Australian people made me feel a bit nostalgic but the most interesting part of the evening was when I realized that I was actually conversing about cars, kids, pregnancies, hospitals, Thailand, schools, kische and marriage as opposed to sex, gay men and MTV. It's kinda cute when the conversation actually swerves to sex, gay men and ghosts when most of us got intoxicated. It was a cool party to be honest.

Afterwards, as planned, KP and his wife, Steve and his wife, Joel and I hit the hotel. Met Jellybean halfway as well. The funny thing was .. some guests from the house party joined us as well. So, you got a group of mixed nationality and age.

Clubbing in Sydney was mostly about dancing and good songs. And of course alcohol depending on how good my ex or my datee has been during that time. I used to dance my ass off on the dance floor in Sydney and shake my ass with this huge sign 'gay pride' on my forehead. I love it when I get attention from the people around me. I mean, I'm not a good dancer but I'm a kid who grew up with MTV on most of the time. So, my moves were somewhat hip or just acceptably cool. I would wait for a good song to come on and just dance my ass off and that was how I would define good times. This time, it was different. I was on the dancefloor and I took time trying to blend to this DDR-like beat but got sick of trying to look cool and I looked around me and I saw some of my friends trying their best to dance. Then, I saw how un-co this all was, not because my friends were horrible at dancing but mostly cos the songs suck. Then, I realized how stupid we all looked on the dancefloor. So, I started dancing silly and following dance steps my friends were doing. This summed up to a huge crowd of easy stepped dance moves done by this huge ass group of friends who are just there to have fun. I guess I found the best way to enjoy clubbing. Just have fun with your friends. It wasn't about the people looking at you; it wasn't about whether you will get picked up or not. It was just simply about having fun with your friends. So, there I was, dancing silly and the magic here, I realized, was the fact that no matter how few of us were left on the dancefloor, it doesn't feel silly. I feel like we were just having fun and if anyone was watching us, I swear it'd be cos of either envy or jealousy. And this wasn't because we could dance.. it was cos we were just enjoying our night. So, in another word, I look like a straight guy who's never been to a dance class dancing quite acceptably synchronized to the beat.

It was a good feeling. I finally realized that having fun in clubs is not about having the best moves or picking up. I guess it was about being happy. I noticed I smiled in every pics taken. Proof? Facebook it, peeps!!

I guess I am taking yet another step in life where nothing is dependent on how cool, how great, how impressive we are trying to be. I kinda see this as yet another portion of 'maturity'. The whole evening stay in booze to a 'saturday night fever' dance moves on the dancefloor to a rave beat. I guess when you get older, you start to realize that life is not really about wearing the best brand, striking the best moves on the dancefloor or trying to impress others with what you're really good at in conversations. I think a good time is all about sharing. As much as I don't know about marriage or pregnancies, I learned a lot of things from the conversations we had and as much as my friends don't really know the dance moves like I do, I feel the same level of happiness from them on the dancefloor. I guess this kinda shows my age and I'm glad I'm acting it. In fact, I'm more pleased that I'm quite very comfortable and happy about my age. Hi, my name is Hein and I'm 28 years old and I can show you how you could still have fun at 28.

Playing God

In the past few days, I have learned to become a monster. A mean monster with nothing but anger in my head. I guess divorce is a big deal for any ladies out there. I guess speaking from someone who's always looked at the gender 'female' as equally superior as males, it's kinda a new thing for me to not put myself in my sister's shoes. I guess today I have learnt to let go. I don't know what's gonna happen but I guess I'll be there for her no matter what. Her husband might be an asshole or a douche bag but I wanna be a five star big brother to my sister and I don't wanna fuck it up right now by encouraging her to break up with someone she loves. If things were meant to be, things would happen.....

This, of course, has put me back to the 'laid back' chair. I know it's only tonight that I'm feeling this way but I guess I can slowly learn to adapt myself to this new surrounding. At times like these, I could hear my grand-dad's voice echoing around my ear drums and it's something he would say on any birthdays of mine. "You're a young man". Being in Sydney for uni and Singapore for college on my own has turned me into one selfish bastard who hasn't learnt anything to mature himself. I seem to be helping others a lot occasionally but only with things I've learnt from the past and this only works cos I'm older than them. Would I have been a good director to Med Revue 2009 if I were the same age as Robby and Jack? It makes me wonder at times.

This also makes me realize how bad of a friend I've been to my close ones. I've always been selfish to those who cares around me. I made someone important in my life lose two concert tickets for me and her to go see our favorite stars' concert. I made someone who tried to cling onto my friendship with her feel guilty for not letting me have some time on my own when all she was doing was trying to make it clear to me that she didn't wanna lose the friendship that we once have, like the times she and I and my other important friend, just as important as her, would watch Japanese animes in my room, of course with some fat retard next door. I have evolved and changed the past few years but I've taken a lot more than I could handle. It's good to have things around you but not to the point where you forget what's important to you.

Same things go for my high school as well. I don't really know how to start an email to my once-best friend, for whom I tried my ass off to come to Sydney for. I feel guilty everytime I hang out with someone who's believed me to be there for him and I failed to even email him back, let alone his attempts to make emails with Burmese connections while I was in Sydney. At times, I wanna cry with joy for having a friend who used to be in my car and go out with me and now, he wouldn't hesitate to buy me drinks or even come all the way from his house to pick me up in a taxi, paid by him.

I guess the most important thing about this blog entry is the fact that I believe it's time to grow up. I guess life is only good without clearing ways. I've done a lot of things in the past that I totally regret but still I have managed to see them as things that would enable me to learn. I guess it's time to accept that life is hard and that I should keep trying to grow up no matter what comes in the way and most importantly, to keep to my elements and not be on everyone's ways. You can't play God forever....

The Return Of Jellybean

Attention.. everyone loves it but some loves to hide the fact as well. There’s nothing better than being stared at by a chick in a bar. No matter what the chick is, a whore, a dancer, a socialite, a celebrity, a mother or just a normal member of society, it still feels good to be stared at.

According to Buddhists’ retribution theory, one must suffer nor gain what he/she had done in the past life. So, when you end up helping out people in this life, old folks like to say it’s because you were in debt in your past life. If you get to end up in debt this life, it’s probably because you have greedily used up other people’s stuff in the last life. I don’t really know what I have done in my past life but I end up having to fill forms for people in this life.

Since the day I was on the plane from Sydney to Burma, I had to fill up declaration and some departure/arrival forms for around five to six people, one being my grandmom and the rest just plain strangers. One lady didn’t actually know the meaning of ‘date of birth’ so I ended up explaining that to her and ended up filling out her forms as well. That didn’t stop when I was on my way to Thailand as well. I was pretty happy that I could help. Today, I ended up filling forms for my sister. She was at work and she asked me to go to the Australian Embassy to give them her CV because she heard about a job there or something. So, it turned out that the person would also have to fill in a form there as well as hand in their CV. So, unprepared, I filled out the form on behalf of my sister and ended up even forging her signature.

The ‘weighing’ nurse was there when I was at the hospital today. I gave her my last album on Monday, the last time I went to the hospital. She came to me today and told me she’s got the album and the same old same old ‘thank you’. She weighed me as usual and surprisingly, I ended up losing eight pounds in nine days. I guess my dieting routine’s working wonders.

Steve called me up and asked me to come out and chill with him, given our old friend Jellybean is in town. Ok, his name is NOT actually Jellybean. I met him on the same day I became friends with Steve during water festival. A cool kid from the States and quite laid back. He then became one of my regular hangout buddies. He went back to Seattle a few months before I left for Sydney and he’s been coming back for quite a few times during these five years that I have not seen him. So, it felt pretty cool that I got to meet him tonight.

He has changed a bit. He’s turned into a bit of a jock kid without the douche bag personality. He changed the way he dresses as well as his hair. I did tell him he looks way better than before but I was glad to find out that he hasn’t changed a single bit when it comes to his laid back personality. KP couldn’t make it so it was just the three of us. Steve, Jellybean and I were at our usual pub and then we went to Sedona club, where hookers wander around and a group of Filippino chicks sing on stage. Clubs in Burma, before I came to Sydney, were usually swarmed with kids around our age. Be it punk, hip hop or just plain style, they were pretty cool kids to mingle with. Clubs, these days, is reigned by old Chinese business tycoons or just old Burmese men in search of whores. We saw a group of Chinese men dancing to DDR type of music. Steve, Jellybean and I seem to be the only group of people that most chicks would wish they’d be picked up by. I mean, we weren’t the hottest but we did look good mediocrely and we are young as opposed to most of the people there and we do look like we can afford to take showers as opposed to some nasty looking people in there. So, it came to the point where the singers on stage even came and talked to us. Of course they would. Two white young men. I wouldn’t miss a chance to flirt with them if I were in a bar full of old nasty businessmen. We had our drinks and went back home. Nope, none of us got laid.

Attention… it’s weird how when I come to think of it, I do like getting attention from chicks. Thinking back, I was kissing a girl on stage in a gay pub on Mardi Gras day once. That says something about me and chicks, I guess.

Age Don't Lie

I guess best friends never lie. I have a lot of best friends, unfortunately since it doesn't make any of them feel as special as I want them to, and 'especially' these four of them have been able to point out the oblivious fact of mine. Ali, Jen, Alex and Zhe find so much comfort in calling me 'old'. They laughed during the part during Med Revue 2009 where I had to say the line "I'm only twenty five".

Kat was online today on facebook and I had a nice chat with her. I know she's gorgeous but I never knew she was so friendly to me, given the times we both had was either drunk or .. hmm scratch that... it's only drunk. I mean, come on, I love this woman cos she makes the best cocktails. But then, today I found out she is quite a true friend. Time is one of the main factors that I always look out for when I have to choose who my real friends are. Those who can give me a lot of time seems to outshine a lot of those who couldn't. Chatting with Kat today made me feel somewhat pretty relieved and quite homesick, knowing that Sydney, in fact, is one of my 'to be' home. Seriously, there's no law against having too many homes. As part of our conversation, she mentioned how young I look. Now, I know we, Asians, all look younger than we are before we hit the big four zero and WHAM we look like the laughing skeletonhead from "Tales from the Crypt" once it passes. We age slow before forty but it's 'bunnies on aphrodisiac' after that. Opposing this, most Caucasians age quick. You could tell how they're gonna look like at the age of thirty just by looking at a baby's face at times. But, that face stays on til they hit the Pearly Gates. Yes, as I was saying, it's quite normal for a Caucasian lady to call me 'young' but this is Kat, whose friend's boyfriend is Asian and quite often hangs out with Asian gay men or even boys. So, I was quite honored and on cloud nine most of the time.

UNTIL when I went to the DVD rental store, I ran into this old man who ALWAYS stays at the entrance. I talked to him today. Well, normally I would say 'hi' and 'bye' and chuck him a 'hey I saw you yesterday' smile. Today, I just felt like conversing and I even gave him one of my cigarettes (sorry guys I am smoking again). Normally, when a person is flourished with gifts, they would wanna repay the debt by any means. I mean, Julius Caesar knew a good shaggin' was involved on the list of 'repay's when he offered Cleopatra gifts. There's always a 'hey you owe me something' behind a handshake. I am not talking about a major big huge repay to every good little things but like we all do feel the need to do something nice. So, what did the old man do? He asked me if I were forty. I choked. I gave him a 'are you serious' look. He then said how he was ninety years old and he asked me if I were forty again. Twice. This man was serious. I said I haven't hit the thirties. He, then, gave me this 'Are you sure I am hearing things right' look. Then, I gave him a 'DUH I wouldn't have miscalculated my age by a decade' look. He laughed and I gave him a weak chuckle. I wasn't offended but it made me think if I, in fact, look that old. Forty? Holy shit.... that's when I should be planting tomatoes at the back of my barn.

'Stalker updates'wise, the dude I gave a message to turned out not to be the guy I was looking for. So, I was having a 'ah well I did try' moment until something hit me to look for his name on facebook again but with the original spelling of the name I first thought of. Yes, the one that gave me this German chick and someone from somewhere I've never heard of. If you think 'miracles' were overrated, it was that point when I feel like Michael J Fox shaking. I FINALLY found the dude. Well, I wouldn't say it's him but I did message him asking if it was him. They say 'to smell something fishy' is when you notice something suspicious but this was different. I don't really smell any fish tacos here. I mean, his profile was new and there was only one friend on it. Why would a guy ask me to add him on his new account? Especially when he was the one to convince me for this addage? If I have to think optimistically about it, chances are he made that account cos he didn't wanna put a gay guy that he is attracted to on his 'normal' profile. I mean, he might have another profile with his parents or siblings on it. But then again, as Hein would do, I'm overcalculating this and I kinda doubt that's what's happening. More stories on this guy soon, I promise.

I have reached the point where I'm not actually afraid of my brother in law for possible shithouse that could happen in the future. There is only one person who I should fear the most... my sister.

The Game of Life

The lust feeling for the same gender had a hold of me today. Here I am thinking I almost got rid of not only females but males in my head to kinda 'wanna' play around with until I found this urge to search for this 'monastery' kid again on facebook. I was pretty sure he gave me his right name and unless he put a nickname like mine on facebook, I wouldn't be able to look for it. So, I went through more than 100 out of 500 profiles to check for his account via the school we both went to in Thailand. Stalking at its best, I even googled his name with either "Burmese" or the name of the school or even both of it and it didn't do any good. I was chatting with a friend on gchat and she was telling me about stuffs in Sydney. Half reading into what she wrote, she came across a name. Homonyms? Isn't it where you have two words spelt differently but has almost the same sound, yet different meanings. A dumbass I have been, his name could be spelt the other way. So, I DID look for that name on facebook and yep, I did find one. He does look like the guy I saw but a photoshopped photo of someone with a cap on doesn't really do any justice and the fact that he has another name of a school as his 'network' kinda doubts me a bit. Well, I left him a message. Now, what are the odds of someone getting a name that sounds the same with the name that that someone is trying to stalk with? Oh, I love fate.

Grandma finally asked about the belly massage that I was to have and I guess she asked this lady, who's her boss but also her 'almost like a daughter' friend, about the contacts. Well, given this lady IS the head of a magazine, she's almost like a breathing directory. However, it so happened that she herself had tried it as well. She said that shit did not work on her and it gave her brown marks on her skin and if it is not done properly, there could be a fair chance that the fats would go into your kidneys. After I heard the news about it from grandma, I turned into a five years old kid. I threw the most ridiculous tantrum and felt as stupidly fucked as I could've ever imagined in my entire life.

To be honest, being fat or just NOT being fit bugs me to tears. I have always wanted to be fit and see how it's like to ACTUALLY look good. I've been doing a good job at hiding it by ridiculing about myself but to be honest and this is quite shameful, I am very very sensitive when it comes to fatness. Now, back in Sydney where most 'normal' male forms have huge butts and semi-tyres around them, I was known as a 'thin' or a 'not fat' guy until I hang around a group of Asians, which I rarely do. Well, unless it's Asians who grew up in Australia. When I came back to Burma, I swear the first phrase before 'Hi' was either 'omg you've gained weight' or 'omg when did you get back?'. Well, the latter being 80% of the popularity of both the phrases combined of course. I'm so sick of it. So, I've started my little routine where I would exercise, eat small lunch, skip dinner and also take diet pills. It's been two weeks and I've been going well but I have been looking forward for this belly massage.

So, in old fashioned Hein way, I broke down. I started to think how useless and unlucky I am. Nothing I had ever tried to get better could stop me. I guess the stress about wanting to make sure my sis gets outta this country before her husband kills her got to me. The stress about me not having a PR when I should be working in Australia, waiting for one, also got to me. The stress about me not having a job at the moment and still dwelling on my grandparents' money also got to me. So, summing it all up, I see myself as a fat lazy dumb irresponsible bastard. It's been a while since the last time I did this but yep, I stopped talking.

Now, my grandparents are almost like parents to me. I mean, they legally adopted me and spend more time than my real mom and dad did with me. It's only fair that they know my nature. After I did my workout today, they came into the room and talked to me about possible ways to get my sister to come to Australia as soon as possible. It wasn't about borrowing money from others but dare I doubt it, my grand-dad is the guru of planning. He gave me this awesome plan that I could've thought of if only I had been smart enough. I just hope I get his genes and it would show in the future. No wonder they could support me during my stay at uni in Australia. Their planning just rocks. Why didn't I think of that earlier????

Now that they're sleeping, I kinda have this other doubt where I see myself in a few years' time living with my mom and sis in Australia but will my grandparents be with us? I mean, seriously they ARE gonna get older. At times like these, I cry inside. Life is sad, ain't it? The monks were right. Life is actually quite sad. It's up to us to play this game of life the most profitable way that we could come up with to get rid of this circle of life.

I'm quite worried for my sister at the present but I guess it's that time to apply the "secret" method. Call me crazy but it had worked on me MANY times.

All In A Day's Work

Never in my life have I dealt with emotional rescue. Well, I've always been there for my friends but what happens when any little thing you do affects how one thinks and that also affects the mentality of your own sister. Right now, after I have decided to delete the previous entry that I did (yep, for the second time, I hold a backspace for my blog), I just feel too stuffed up.

I have succeeded in keeping my sister with my mom after all the shit that had happened during the weekend. For once in my life, I've seen myself so angry than that time I tried to cut my wrist. This wasn't anger; this was just rage. I tremble and everything I have bottled up seem to be connected to everything that is happening at the moment. The catch here is the fact that this problem cannot be solved by me alone. It also depends on my sister and for that, I have to do whatever I can to make her happy and not to make her go outta her mind.

Well, for the time being, I got her a backstage pass with me to a punk concert. She seems quite happy about that. And I've asked my friends for better jobs for her and hopefully this will work and keep her sane. It's about time my sister stays happy.

This morning, I went to the monastery where they were celebrating some Thai slash Burmese monk celebration and all that. I saw this guy who was supposed to be looking for jobs for me and he introduced me to this chick, who I have yet to call. Hopefully I get that job. Being idle here makes me think and especially after I feel so much anger at this point, idling is not the best fit for 'things to do'.

I was introduced to this family at the monastery. This woman and a man with two kids. One of them actually caught my attention. My grandma was talking about how I used to go to Ruamrudee International School in Bangkok and this cute kid was actually from there. By kid, I do not think he's that young. So, we talked about our school and it was a nice convo. I don't know but there's something about guys who could talk about things that makes me smile. Like, this international school, where I was really happy, is a good topic to talk about and to become friends with. Then, we broke ways and he followed his parents while I followed my gramps for lunch. Maybe I was imagining but I swear we caught gazes at each other at random times. Before he went home, I said bye to him and he asked me for my facebook. So, I gave him my account name and he gave me his. I did a search for him but it was to no avail. So, I guess hopefully he'll remember my name and he will add me one day. But , damn he was damn cute. American accented Burmese from the same international school I was sure does tickle my flirty veins.

While my mom and I were waiting in the car while my sister moved her things from her house, my mom and I had a talk. I told her that I've been keeping something from her and that I have told my sis seven years ago and other friends and that I felt so unclean for not having told her. Once, my sister told me that if I ever come out to my mom, she would hang herself. Well, half jokingly true, she added. So, I did warn her that this was a material which might make her wanna kill herself. I asked her if I could tell her and she refused to hear it from me. She said even with all these issues, she feels like dying. Not to make it sound so dramatic, we were smiling while we said these. Then, like mom like son, she started asking me stupid questions. Do you have HIV? Did you impregnate a girl? Do you have a wife in Sydney? I said no. I gave her a hint. Once when I was a kid, my mom told me that I should love her even though if she's a ho or a prostitute. I reminded her that and I said I would need her love for this one. She paused and she asked me an interesting question. Did you have any girlfriends back in Sydney? I smiled and said I am not letting you guess. I'm sure my mom knows this has to do something with homosexuality. I told her that I can tell her whenever she's ready. I also reminded her that she would know it once she gets to Sydney anyways. She joked that she didn't wanna come to Sydney anymore. So, yeah I told her "so mom whenever you're ready". And she went 'not now'....

So, I guess I'm still in the closet.

Baby, when the lights go out..

Power cuts. It's the time when every victimized suburbs come together
to chant a harmonic moan. Once the lights are out, you could hear
multiple groans at the same time and once it's back on, you can hear a
'yay'. So, it's like a mini-Olympic going on in our suburb today,
except that we are still waiting for it to come back. People hate it
but for a very good reason, I love power cuts. It's because it's the
ONLY time when desktop users stop using the internet and only laptop
users around our area could use the internet. So, the internet becomes
mighty faster and quite Hein-friendly. However, it's still shitty and
I'm guessing you'd be reading all three entries at once since it's
been three days since I last asked Vinnie to post on my blog.

It's ok to be quite passionate about what you do but not when it
involves pain but then again, this kind of pain makes me happy. I got
leg pain around my shin today. I am guessing it's from the jogging and
I am having a bit of stomach growls right now for the lack of dinner.
It's been one week and three days since I last ate dinner. So, I
wouldn't wanna fuck it up. I remind myself of the Carpenters chick but
I'm not at the stage where I'm turning annorexic when I'm ACTUALLY
skinny. I still see a mini tyre around my belly area. If only I could
roll around sideways legally, I would not need myself a driver
liscence.

I guess muscle pain mint rub ons are making a comeback in my life and
it's been soothing that shin pain. I remember when I was in Singapore,
I have three roll ons. One as a deodroant roll on, one as an acne
fighting roll on for my face and the last one as a muscle pain minty
hot balmy thingy roll on. So, as I was trying to get ready for bed, I
was scrubbing my face with a roll on and I could feel the heat on my
face. I was pretty happy and quite convinced that the acne fighting
solution's doing a pretty good job of killing those bastards until I
could smell a spearmint out of it. It was my muscle pain roll on.
Quite a "Reader's Digest" worthy incident if you ask.

I think blogging is a cure for power cuts. As I am typing it now and
it's 10:30 pm here, the generator went off and the lights are still
on. I did not hear the suburbia chant but the power's back.
Hallelujah.

I have made two copies of songs I've written and recorded, all summing
up to thirty songs to give to the dude tomorrow if he's free and he'll
see what he can do. I am quite confident about my songs but not really
sure if it would fit the audience. You see, unless you're Billie Joe
Armstrong or the dude from OneRepublic, it's not you who chooses your
career but it's the audience and the upcoming fans who would chose the
time for you to do your thing. Is it my time now? We'll wait and
see...

Mirrors

I started today by looking at myself in the mirror after two hours of
attempting to get online and also after I had to wake up at six am. My
English teacher, God rest her soul, used to tell me how we cry cos of
anger and not cos of sadness. That is extraordinarily true for me.
Never in my life have I cried cos of sadness. I cry cos I'm either
angry or happy. I think I take everything into anger but theoretically
it's quite correct.

So, I didn't cry while staring myself in the mirror but I wanted to
cos the whole connection attempts accumulated things I've bottled
inside. The "whys" I've ignored and chucked in the corner of my brain.
Why am I still single? Why am I jobless? Why am I still fat? Why did I
fuck up the application? Why am I here? Why do I have to sit
hopelessly in front of a laptop at six am in the morning and wait til
it was time to wake up when all I could view was the gmail inbox? Why
did I let my grandparents down? Why are they so good to me? Why can't
they get along with my mom if they are all good people? Why am I a
minority? Why am I gay? Why am I a Burmese who is so useless in Burma?
Why aren't we rich anymore? The list goes on.

I exited the bathroom with a huge sigh and just fell asleep for a
couple of hours before my gramps woke me up for lunch.

I went to hospital today and to my surprise and my granddad's and the
nurse's (yep, my favorite weight measuring nurse), I lost four pounds
in two days. I'm now 198 lbs and I was 202 lbs on Monday. It's true I
have been eating so few lately but I'm pretty sure it would be quite
normal to lose just one or two lbs but NOT four. I was happy. My wound
hasn't healed yet. Instead, it's produced some unhealthy tissues,
which the doctor had to chip away. Ok, it didn't hurt but when you
have your head turned the other way while the doctor poke things into
your hole (wound hole.. NOT THE ASSHOLE), you do feel like a wreck.
All I could think of was "Hostel" sequels, where they put their
victims in doubt of what's actually happening to their bodies while
the torture dude slice things off.

My sis and her hubby got back from Thailand today. She had lots of fun
there and she didnt really wanna come back. Wait til I ask her to come
to Sydney. She'd be in wonderland of freeness and good public
transports. Trust me, guys, here, transportations just suck ass.
Remember? Think "third world".

So, I ended the day by looking in the mirror. I was brushing my teeth
while I looked in the mirror and all of a sudden, I felt so sorry for
my grandparents. They're old and thank god they're healthy but they're
still having to take care of a grandson and a son who's sick in bed,
not to forget the other only walkable son (my dad) died ten years ago.
In other words, I was their only hope and my grandma knew I was gonna
only ask my mom and sis to come to Aussieland. But I've painted a new
picture now. I picture myself in a garden, with my mom, my sis, her
hubby, my boyfriend or even a wife since I'm quite amazed at how
straight relationships can be so healthy and quite NORMAL and my
grandparents. I am not really sure how my uncle's gonna hold up. Up
til now, he's one strong biyatch. I love him for that. He's so strong
minded and he's been in bed unable to walk for more than a decade and
yet he's the most sane person in our house. If only my gramps would
agree to make him come to Aussieland, I really hope I could ask all of
them to come to Australia. But then again, time and health wait for no
one. So, with as much hopelessness I've had from the internet
connection disability in the morning to this hopelessness I felt at
night about not being able to be the 'good' son, I sobbed a bit and
thought to myself how stupid the pimple on my eyelid looked. I don't
know.. I was just angry at myself. Now, I seem ok but I'm serious
about the mental picture I just described.

Mirrors do tell stories, the stories you could only get to know if you
could get to look at youself from the outside.

A Decade and a Half

Aaron Yoo... an annoying Asian who's been in three movies I watched in
one month... Friday the 13th, Labor Pains and 21. God, what is up with
this dude? The last time shit like this happened to me was the number
311. When I started to like the song "Amber" by the band 311, I
started seeing 311 everywhere. The time I look at my watch when I
can't sleep. The time I checked out at Jayjays when I wanted to finish
work. The page number of some huge ass book that I was raped to read..
yes, rape.. I was never a fan of reading. The last three digits on a
random number generator. It's been a while since I last saw those
three cute numbers. I just wanna make sure it's not substituted with
Aaron Yoo. Let me make it clear to you readers that this is not my
racism blinging here. I love John Cho and Hiro. Yes, I do love Asian
actors in Hollywood but Aaron Yoo.. god, he just makes me wanna puke.

There was an earthquake at 3am this morning, probably caused by my
snorage. It was pretty strong since the monk from the monastery that
we went to today told us that the water in a dam in his monastery was
like waving. Apparently, a tsunami was to follow after this earthquake
which could wash away five countries in Asia. Hmm... that's not good.
Some Americans predicted it. Might not be true but you never know.
Technology these days are just as annoying as Window Vista's internet
connection bar. It just randomly changes and sometimes instead of
proceeding, it moves backwards and before you blink, it moves forward.
God, I just chucked a 'geek moment'.

I'm quite proud of my grandparents today. Cos for the first time that
I've been here, they did not go to the cemetery on the 11th. Every
11th of every month, we would go to the cemetery where my dad was
buried. Why? Don't know. I got over it. As long as he's in my heart, I
care more about things that still breathe. I mean, he's probably
turned to dust. It's been ten and a half years. We did go to the
monastery though which wasn't a thrill ride but the mature side of me
said it's quite necessary and quite negotiable with my lazy ass. I
just don't get it. Dad is dead and he won't see us. Even Buddhism
studies say each of us are just images and intelligence and once we
die, our image remains and not our souls. I mean, seriously, if we
were to stay quite truely 'clean' and Buddhist, visiting your dad's
grave every month after a decade of his death is a no no. But yeah,
today was good. I didn't have to chuck a weak 'appreciation chuckle'
or pretend to talk to dad when I'm actually just talking to seven
thousand mega million bacteria that's floating above Dad's grave.

My grandma is a machine. And she still is my manager. I guess I could
see it from her point of view. She made me... well, she didn't really
give birth to me but she taught me things. She made me go to school.
She made me even go to voice correction school for three months in
Thailand when I lost my voice when puberty striked. She motivated me
(well, more like threatened) to lose weight for my second album. She
arranged studio dates and she mingled with my band while I worked for
my third album while I criss crossed across two countries. It was like
Singapore = study, Burma = studio. She made me act in her play. I was
her Frankenstein. So, I guess it's not worth the shot for an exit sign
for my career when we've come this far. She went to this dude who
manges the studio I used to record in. Apparently, he's some big dude
who also works for the first cool music radio station in Burma, City
FM. He, on the other hand, loves me fortunately. I'm always this
sixteen years old I used to be during my first album to him. My
grandma and he had a talk today and I guess it sounds like there might
be a slight chance of my return in the showbiz. Was I thrilled? Yeah
sure am. Despite the fact that I gave up on this whole showbiz thing,
I did say I would look into anyone who's interested in working with
me. He's on the dartboard at the moment and I'm the dart and my
grandma, of course, is the focused local middle age dude in a dinghy
bar who's throwing the dart.

I'm not really sure what's gonna come outta this but on the other
hand, without any expectations, it's been one week since I've been
doing my dieting regime (workout, no dinner, diet pills). It sounds
suicidal but god, every night I sleep, I feel like I just had an
orgasm after a good two hours sex. Not cos I'm horny or anything but
yeah just the appetite of knowing I did something that day to get
thinner. To make things better, I have hooked myself up with one of
the best tailors in Burma who makes clothes for one of the famous
model/actor in Burma. No, it wasn't my intention to get to know her
cos of this but she's so cool and we click instantly and now she's
gonna give me lots of discount if I ever need her to make clothes for
me. And by hooking up, I meant "FRIENDS". The make up artist who did
my face in a magazine interview is also in good terms with me cos it
was because of my interview that his name got onto the magazine. To
make things better, a talented punk rocker who could play any musical
instruments (apart from keyboard, which I can) is my close friend and
my other close friend's wife is a socialite who knows almost anyone
here. God, I feel so equipped.. like some leather daddy before a kink
show.

So, what happens now? All I know is.. this blog is going nowhere near
'Boredville'.

Confession of a Blind Man

From the movie 'Blind Dating', I really like the line where this chick
went "Blind? I thought you were gay". Haha, shows we're better than
blind people. Ok, that was a bit mean. I have nothing against blind
people. In fact, I cried when I was 13 and when my class went on a
school trip to a blind school and I saw this kid singing staring at
the ceiling. I mean, she was such a good singer and she was singing
the song "Sailing", a hit by Rod Stewarts and all I could do was sit
there and cry like a retard feeling so sorry for her. Oh yeah, that's
another place I went to when I had to sing for charity but I wouldn't
use the word 'retard' for that.

I have some feelings after watching this movie but let me start with
what actually happened at the hospital today.

Under Pressure... a song by David Bowie and Queen. The second
definition to that phrase is Hein at a hospital at 3:40 pm on August
10th, 2009. Yep, the usual nurse who kept measuring my weight, just
for the fun of it, was there. As usual, the routine for her was to
plaster my ass while she looks at the piece of art(my butt of course)
and lead me to the weighing machine to have my weight measured. Today,
as I was getting ready taking off my sarong to expose my black shiny
ass on the bed, she said "You sing, right?". Now, that would normally
be a very good sentence but not when you have to keep showing your ass
and asking that someone for your weight, which is incredibly heavy at
the moment. I was working out a lot of possible answers in my head.
"Nah, I'm his look-a-like" "Hahaha I'm his twin brother" or "Nah I
don't sing but I work as a janitor in a museum". None can't do cos my
grand-dad was there who would be unprepared to support my lie and tell
the truth which is 'yes, I AM THE singer'. So, I went "yeah i do sing"
followed by a gulp, an ass exposure and a weight measure of over 200
lbs. The worst thing was when the doctor actually had to cut off some
skin of my wound cos it's growing too fast. Like, why did he have to
choose today. Why? Why not some other day when this kid doesn't know
that I used to work in the singing industry. As I would be, I was
panicking while he snapped my dead skin off with his tweeny scissors
and I would give an unexpected groan or a high pitched 'ouch' here and
there, RIGHT IN FRONT OF THAT NURSE. Don't get me wrong, she IS my
favorite nurse and the fact that she actually said my weight was 201
lbs instead of 202 lbs was kinda cute, her excuse being 'You have your
shoes on'. Wise trick! But yeah, all I could think was to just go home
and forget the whole incident. Now, as I was walking to the counter to
pay for the dressing charge, she asked me which songs I sang cos she
saw me in a journal(mini-mags) and she didn't really remember which
song I sang. I told her it was five years ago and that I would give
her a sample CD if I ever plan to sing again. Of course, with an
awkward smile at the end to which she just respond with her usual
sweet smile. Oh, nurse, you have NO idea how much pressure was put
onto this boy. Oh god, imagine her topic next time she sees her
friends. "So, I have seen S Hein's big black hairy ass". Oh God Fuck
My Life!!!!

The whole 'noticing that I sing' actually happened at the DVD shop as
well when the girl at the counter went 'OMG you're back.. are you
still singing?'. All I could do was chuckle and wish she hadn't
reminded me of my hospital incident. Scarred for life, hallelujah!

So, instead of going to the cinema with double A, I stayed home and
watched this "Chris Pine" flick "Blind Dating" about some blind guy
who's trying to find love. Cliche cliche yet feel good. I felt good
for Chris Pine but I feel so disgusted with myself. You have this
blind boy who's brave enough to date chicks and be himself at the same
time and not really withdrawn by rejections. Well, Chris Pine is way
HOT but then how would a blind person know he's hot, eh? This takes me
to the first night I had sex with a man in Sydney. I cried that night
because I've given up my virginity to this Arab talking fat thirty
something one night stander but the cry was followed by a satisfaction
that I've done it. I've been thinking about the dates I've had in
Sydney as well. I talk too much. I get nervous and I would act as if
everything's ok. Ben Hedgehog asked me how I find monogamy and I was
ready with an answer like "It happens and if I love someone, I shall
learn to forgive". He gave me this 'intrigued' frown followed by a
kiss that night and a rejection that I had to pull outta him two weeks
later on the phone. It was a top-notch answer, a well thought one,
with a cherry on top BUT it wasn't honest. What do I think of
monogamy? Actually he asked me what I feel about boyfriends being
non-monogamous and I said 'that's ok'. God, I lied.. not only to him
but to myself. Fearing he'd let me go, I lied to myself that it's a
forgiveable act. I don't have anything against monogamy but the truth
was and the true answer should be 'I don't know' cos seriously I've
never had a boyfriend cheat on me before; DUH I had only one.

Dinner with Kieran, we always have pauses in between our convos
followed by How's your day from Kieran. And of course, me as Mr 'happy
go lucky' said "haha as usual.. uni sucks but I'm ok". Did I feel that
way? NOOOOOOOOOOOO.... Uni doesn't suck.. if it wasn't for uni, I
would've never known Ali nor Jen nor Alex nor any other cool people
I've met. And was I ok? NOOOOOOOO I had an assignment due that week
that I lost my book to and hadn't worked on. Holy Jesus, I ace at
lying, don't I? In fact, once in a job interview, my only lie was when
I told the employer "I don't really know how to lie". Ironic much?

So, it's not as if I would ever search for Mr Right in a hurry when I
come back to Sydney given I have things to do on my "Priority List"
but just for once I would love to be honest and taken seriously for
that. And just for once I would like to be brave about what I said,
not fearing how it's gonna be judged. And just for once, I'd wanna
have a real date with a real man who would laugh at me for stuttering
when I look into his eyes. I know I'm not hot but I'm worth the try
and I'm worth the honesty.

If a blind man can do it, so can I........ cos to be honest, I AM
quite blind in the 'love' department. Despite the songs I wrote, I am
quite inexperienced.

The Kim Chees Invasion

If there is one director in Hollywood who could cast Tom Cruise the
perfect role he's ever done, it's Ben Stiller. Tropic Thunder made Tom
Cruise look like a pansy in Jerry Maguire, a whiney in A Few Good Men,
a retard in Magnolia and a psycho in Eyes Wide Shut. I have always
refused to see Tropic Thunder back in Sydney and I have no idea why
but after watching it on DVD today, it was the creme de la creme of
awesomeness. Good movies take time to be convinced for me to rent or
see.. hmmm

Double A finally celebrated his birthday today. It was a room full of
mostly his relatives, me, Double P(another friend) and three of his
wife's friends. Double A and I go way back when we used to be in this
gang that became a gang outta nowhere. Both our characters in the gang
does not really fit. I was the peacemaker and he was the quiet
info-guy. I didn't really see us as a gang gang but just kids racing
cars and double A and I were the ones who didn't really drive back
then; pfft.. I still don't.

It was pretty good since I could talk with almost anyone there. Double
A's wife, Double A's cousin, Double A's cousin's girlfriend (who's the
singer who did a duet with me and got interviewed for this month issue
of some magazine), Double A's brother's wife, Double A's brother and
finally double A's cousin's cousin. I love family trees.

Now.. Double A's cousin's cousin is in a band called Ice Cream, which
is semi-mentored by KP and I have to admit that boy's a cutie. I did
not mean that as a sexually attractive object but he is a pretty cool
kid to talk to and a quite awesome lad to have a rant with. He and I
were talking about how showbiz in Burma has sunk. On a scale of 'suck'
to 'average', Burmese showbiz these days is a minus suck and a half.

It used to be the Brits or the Americans; the MTV Generation, where
music from these two major continents used to inspire us. Now-a-days,
it's the Koreans who are reigning our music industry. Inspired by the
Kim chees, Burmese singers find it quite impressively cool to dress
like a Kim Chee or to sing like one. I have NO problems with Kim Chees
but seriously, the inspirational level for Burmese singers had
narrowed down to its own continent, Asia. And for someone who used to
work in a jeans shop near Chinatown, this new statement makes me
nauceous. Why the Koreans???? We should be holding hands and making
cool music, not copying them. Are we actually running out of races or
countries to copy trends from? The funnier thing is how the Kim Chees
actually look cool with their white skin, surgeried nose, and uber
cool straight hair, whereas Burmese are a bit too brown for my liking
as an impersonation of a Kim-chee person. I'm sure one of my close
friends, Jack Han, would be pleased with this news cos he's a Korean.
Take that, bro!

P.S. I find this quite hilarious for an eye candy celebrity boykid in
Burma to answer this question this way when asked. "Which other
celebrities are you inspired by?". His answer was "Rain" and
"Backstreet Boys". Hmm.. this kid has to totally get outta his closet
and try not to have answers as stupidly cheesy as this. Backstreet
Boys is so last decade and Rain is a Chinese sex symbol. Poor lad!!!!

New Lives

Our house welcomes three new family members today, though one of them died quite briefly after birth. Wee's mom, the dog that I never have a name for, gave birth to three icky puppies. They weren't as tiny as I thought they should be; in fact, they're pretty fat. I only got to see the ones that are alive; a white one with a big brown patch on it and a grey one, hoping this one does not turn out to be another Tori Spelling and they're both females. I kinda refuse to believe that since their genitals would be too small to be recognized if they're males or females. Hopefully, they're not retarded cos this is yet another infested product. Damn you Tori Spelling for mating with your own sister.

Today was like a 'rest' day. I slept most of the time and watched DVDs and just did my daily 'losing weight' routine. I'm actually quite excited about going to have myself measured on Tuesday cos that would be one week since I've stopped eating dinner, started working out and started on those diet pills. I can't wait for the belly massage as well. Apparently you could lose three inches at least after twelve days or something.

I never knew KP wrote a book. After I woke up from his house, KP, his wife and I went to Shan restaurant. (Shan's a region in Burma... umm think Perth in Australia). We ate some Shan food and KP sent me home. It was nice to have a man-to-man time with KP. I do miss the 'brotherly' part of me.

Life in Sydney opened up a new horizon in my life; a life where I could be quite free minded and believe in what my heart and mind says. I've also begun to put myself in a minority category. For the first three and a half years in Sydney, I tried quite hard to fit into the new crowd that I was introduced to; amazed by how easy it was to have people like me around, surprised by the number of friends who found me quite 'intriguing' and of course also saddened by the lack of originality. It seemed like there's this thin line of trend most of us have to follow; bitchy, strong and free-spirited. I lost faith in monogamy; I lost faith in love; I lost faith in myself as well. So, I did become quite jaded for sometime. Then, I got myself more involved in uni activities and found out there IS life outside Oxford Street. That's when I opened my eyes to this huge possibility of regaining my old self again but it was a bit too late. Proud of my newfound personality and quite accepted by a lot of people, I became the gaysian most people love to be friends with.

It's funny how I have regained the old "Hein" that I used to be by hanging out more with KP. He didn't ask me to change though he still believes I could be 'bi'. He and I just talked. Conversations with him and Steve reminded me how I used to care for my friends, how I used to believe in a proper old fashioned relationship, how I used to crave for a life without large unwashed laundry and takeaways and how I used to be a disciplined person of his own rules. I guess bitterness took a large chunk of me away. I haven't changed from being the gay old Hein that most people love in Sydney but somehow I have adapted myself to a newer side of me. It's a bit of a same old brand new me, as I have begun to be more concerned about my beliefs once again, yet unlike before, I am not as insecure as I used to.

"Here comes the better version of me......." -Fiona Apple

The "Teddy" in me

You know when you're married and have a home with kids and then before you know it, your best friend wants to stay over at your place. Then, you start to panic and you don't know whether your wife will approve of his stay. Think "Me, Myself and Marley". When Owen Wilson moved out to stay with his best friend, who has a wife and a happy home, shit hits the fan.

Well, that's what I thought it would be like but nope, my case was different. KP and his wife actually begged me to stay over. We debated about who sleeps on the floor. I said I would but his wife said no she would. Then, KP said he would. But, somehow at 1am, I was at KP's house on his bed with his wife and and him. Three of us cozed up on his queen sized bed and watching "Blood", some Korean vampire chick movie. KP's wife was really excited that I was sleeping over for some reason. Apparently, she wanted me to sleep in the middle so that both she and her husband could cuddle me. Yes, I'm the teddy bear. Little did they know I snore like a bulldozer on its PMS day. But then again, KP does know about me snoring. In the end, I ended up on the queen sized bed with KP. Two men on a bed while his wife was in the other room with her baby.

Rewind a bit before that. Steve's wife got pretty drunk and I have to say she's a happy drunk. She and I drank tequila from the bottle like bimbos at a Paris Hilton movie premiere. But, she also drank J&B whiskey, beer and smoked weed. I was lying down listening to her speak. It was fascinating. I become a listener here and the things you hear... are just amazing. She's got more stories to tell than a scientologist at a convertion hall would. She got tired and she came and cuddled me from behind. I felt warm. I like it when people are comfortable around me. I miss the cuddles my friends in Sydney used to give me. When she cuddled me, I was reminded of those moments and I felt a bit nostalgic. I felt even better when she started rubbing my hand and sniffing the back of my shirt and said 'OMG his skin is so nice and he smells so good'. God, I felt good.

So, I finally met KP's daughter and she is SO cute. Such an adorable baby. She dances around and she does this face where she crunched her whole face and put her mouth like we would do when imitating a pig. I love kids. Just hanging around with her "Emerald" and Steve's son "Troy" makes me feel so relaxed and happy. I don't know what it is but kids are just magical.

I told Troy a story not long ago about this two pigs in love. I made it up on the spot actually. So, this male pig called Snort loves the female pig Weee. Snort's parents don't like Wee cos she has an ugly mole on her face and Snort's friends made fun of Wee. But, one day, when Snort's mom was in danger, about to be crashed by a lawnmower, Wee saved her life and then everyone loves Wee from then on. The moral of the story was the fact that moles are not gross. lol... nah, I was just trying to tell Troy how it doesn't matter what you are but it's what in the inside of you that counts. Hope he'll be cool if he finds out his uncle Hein is sexually confused and quite 'a bit' special.

It was a good day. Friends around in our own little secluded world. By the way, I didn't do weed so I was quite ok with it, not like I'm addicted. But yeah, I had fun. It was an evening/night to remember.

Skinny Routine

Ok, just because I only write about KP and Steve does not necessarily mean I only have two friends here. I do have another friend, initialed AA. But I think double A sounds better. Like any other friend of mine, he's married but he still hasn't got any kids yet. Well, that's not the point of this entry.

Today, I am going to emphasize on my blindness. So, when I was buying alcohol for my birthday party, which I didn't invite double A to, on my way out to my car, double A was actually there with his wife, waving at me. Apparently, that is because I have no recollection of having seen those two on my way out. So, officially I am pretty much 'side' blind. Double A is a cool kid by the way. We've been friends since the millenium, I think. I'm invited to his bday on Sunday and I can't wait to eat like a pig.

Speaking of eating like a pig, I have now decided to make my diet work. So, I've been exercising. And then I'm gonna go for my belly massage, which apparently works. And now I've also found some diet pills, that has no side effects. So, I'm actually quite excited about this one. Maybe for once, I can be thin and quite good looking.

The 'skinny' obsession started way long ago cos I've never been that thin in my life but it got worse like a month and a half ago when I was checking out my family album. My mom was thin, my dad was and my grandparents were. Now, I'd like to look at myself again ten years later and go 'wow look at daddy hein when I was younger'. I was quite thin at the age of ten but who's gonna look at my 'ten years old' pic and appreciate the beauty of it, when there's none, unless you're a sick pedophile. The best you could do is go 'hey cute kid' and that doesn't justify anything nor fulfil my narcissism. I'm not saying I'll look really good thin but it'll be kinda cool to find out how I'll turn out.