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Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Wednesday 31st January 2007 It's 12am on the plane, and I'm sleepy and I want to doze off; something I haven't experienced in ages. My lids are heavy: with sleep? memories? expectation? or nostalgia?My usual routine: I watch a drama, then a comedy, and then some light short TV sitcoms. But this time round it's different. I devour the sitcoms, and while I do, I'm trying so hard to keep my eyes peeled. Am I getting old? Have I changed? I feel like a different person. The past few weeks have been an experience, enriching, yet surreal at the same time. I like that I've been put out of my comfort zone, yet at the same time, I catch quickly onto some new form of assurance in this unfamiliarity. I feel as if I've changed; grown, maybe? I like to believe I have. It's comforting, and somewhat delusional.Back to the first thought that triggered my need to write: It's 12am on the plane, and I was watching Frasier, and I'm missing Ismail's arms around me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not missing Ismail per se, I'm merely reminiscing on the times we spent together, and the familiarity of his touch; his presence. And the knowledge that I might not find another man's sweetness in a similar manner, in possibly an indefinite time, fills me with a bittersweetness. I now know what Shakespeare meant when he wrote 'Parting is such sweet sorrow'. Maybe I don't miss Ismail per se now, but I might come to miss him through the tenderness of our shared memories. He did, afterall, show me tenderness and sweetness that I hadn't been shown before, albeit in an inconsistent manner. (snide snigger) Ironically, as I'm writing this, I'm exchanging polite (plus something more?) smiles with the cute (Malay, HA I sense a trend growing) steward.I wish...that I could be a satellite orbiting the world.that I was a mayfly, basking in the glory of one sweet day.I was a Maserati Spyder enjoying my own purrings and claiming the street as my own.
Into the woods we go. Don't we darling? Into the woods to find our way, fulfill a destiny, seek a solution.I should get some sleep.Karaoke was good. My best 2 mates and I all lost our karaoke virginity to some dodge-but-totally-kosher place in our hood. Wicked.I want a Milo dinosaur.I shudder to realise I might just turn out to be one of those so-sweet-I-could-vomit couples propagating the streets of Singapore. I may be a tough I-dun-need-no-goddam-Hello-Kitty-loving-man basher, but peel that aside, and I just want someone to hold me and cuddle me when I'm not in the best of moods, and to let me share my overwhelming enthusiasm.Bogge, you may be looking for Jesus, I think I'm looking for my Captain Von Trapp; someone who's tough, yet filled with tenderness. Like fried ice cream.31st Jan 20070046hrs Singapore0346hrs Melbourne
(How funny, just as I'm torn about my thoughts and inner feelings, I'm unsure of what time zone I'm actually in. That ol' Murphy's got a sense of humour eh? He and Life are in cahoots, these cads.)
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Thursday 1st February 2007 3pm
Never thought I'd say this.
I miss Singapore.
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Thursday 1st February 2007 1837hrs
Funny how it takes me 3years to come to the realization that I like Singapore. I wish I was back there, chilling with my mates, going to rehearsals, mucking around with my family. I've never missed Singapore as much as I do now. Why is that? Is it because I know my friends are back in Singapore? Cuz I've realized how old my parents are getting, and the responsibilities I carry when I go back? Suddenly I don't harbour any thoughts of staying on in Melbourne after I finish. Will I be singing a different tune after in 9months? in a month? or a week? I wish I knew for certain what I want. I wish I could get rid of that age old yearning of mine, for someone to hold met and cuddle me and tell me everything's gonna be fine and that he'll be there for me wherever I go. Somehow it's been rekindled lately, and with more strength. So it's true, when you've had a taste of the forbidden fruit, you want more.
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Monday 5th February 2007 1355hrs
I think I'm jaded. I don't care how self-indulgent this is. Like seriously, stop throwing annoying people at me. I don't care if it's just me who finds them annoying. For once, for fucking once. Chuck me someone who'll solve all my technological glitches, won't you? Enough with empty promises and saccharine sweet talk. If you're not going to solve my problem, Fuck off.
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Wednesday 7th February 2007 2305hrs
Right, so I just spent the past hour typing in my previous few neglected entries, no thanks to Mr I-work-whenever-I-like internet. The past two days have been nothing short of amazing. Learning new and exciting skills and methods of approaching a play. Feels good, I must say.
For the life of me, I cannot fathom my internet. Suddenly, miraculously, it's working. Except for the crazy keyboard, everything seems ace. Just as men will never understand women, I will never understand technology.
It feels good to be back in action, back on stage, rehearsing and exploring. It's been a while. I'm so intimidated by the immensity and intensity that this year is going to take on. Will I be able to handle it? Will I be able to put in my all and empty myself on the rehearsal floor this year? I need to prove to myself that I am capable. I need to show it to myself that I can do this. I need affirmation from someone I respect and look up to theatrically. I need proof to show to the doubtful people in Singapore that I can do it. I CAN make it.
Okie, this is a totally unrelated issue, but those of you who have been attentive, and those of you whom I've been whinging to lately about my laptop, something fucking weird just happened. The keyboard just suddenly started working properly. So now my laptop is good as gold. WHAT THE FUCK??!?~!?~?!?~! What the hell is going on with my laptop??!~?! It literally started working while I was in the middle of typing. Not that I'm not glad, no, I'm hopping off my socks with elation, but it's just too. fucking. weird. I'm gonna cross my fingers and pray it doesn't happen again. Or I'm calling the cops. FUCK! This is some weirdass shit technology going on. See why I say Technology is my kryptonite?
Back to the main issue, three consecutive full days of rehearsal, I like it, it's intense. Yet at the same time, it's like nothing I've ever endeavoured to do before. I'm excited yet scared shitless by it. I fear that I might start procrastinating. Again. As it stands, we're supposed to learn 10 lines a day; it's the second day of rehearsals, and I'm here sitting on my ass, and my learned lines counter stands at zero. Am I prepared to change my lifestyle, give it 120% for the rest of the year? The flesh is willing but the spirit is weak.
And you know what else? Methinks the lady protests too much. Get off your stinking ass and get cracking Daphne! Off you pop!
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