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'.