it's a small crime and i got no excuse..

i'm actually listening to damien rice's new album '9' and it isn't so bad.

it's weird how the week begins on an awfully low note and then slowly ascends - the past two days have been better. went to uptown to client's office, and honestly speaking it's not that bad an account. my AD (the one i usually work with, no, not THAT one) told me, before they hired me loads of people came in for interviews... but i got the job. that sorta made me stop, and think.
maybe i shouldn't be giving up just yet.

anyway. i have been watching the OC back to back this past week, and truth be told Josh Scwartzman is taking the show to a whole different direction. which isn't exactly a bad thing, but i think the difference might just come across as repulsive to those who have been following the show since season 1. apparently without marissa in the picture (RIP after getting knocked down by volchok, her ex-bad-boy lover) there's been less scandals, less drama and less tears. it isn't the SAME without her. the OC now includes lots of quirky shots and dream sequences... for instance this year's Chrismukkah episode actually revolves around ryan and taylor getting stuck in a parallel world, one which they don't exist in. i love the satirical take and the quirky soundtrack, but i can't help but feel that the show has diverged, and is dangling precociously between beverlyhills90210 teen drama and arrested developement quirky satirical territory. i mean halllo, just imagine onetreehill having dream sequences. hardly even so! so i doono la whether to like or hate the new OC, but as disgusted as i was to know ryan would get together with taylor (i don't care if they had a mangled relationship, ryan and marissa were so meant to be!! agh) they actually seem cute (and good) for each other.

it took like 5 days to download Last Kiss and to my horror it's in french without english subtitles. what a killjoy! but having internet is such a bliss, i'm downloading little miss sunshine at the moment. still can't find gondry's science of sleep though. anyway this blog is full of ruthless ranting without any intellectual wordings whatsoever, but when its 12.44am i just can't be bothered anymore.

oh! watched glastonbury last night with diy, bumped into adrian. he came alone i think. anyway, it was a good rock documentary. mmmm there are two gigs tomorrow, i do really wanna go to the power jiwa one (for a really stupid reason of wanting to bump into a particular person) but diy and ja will be going to watch DBS perform at paul's place so umm. yeah we'll see if i'm up to it.

gotta read a bit and sleep. i'm knackered and i have an 11am VO recording tomorrow. so long.

'loneliness is just a state of mind'

it is, it is.

after 8 weeks of coming to work only to stare at the computer monitor screen for 10 hours, eat by myself and speak only when i am required to, i can now proudly chant that mantra in my head without nary a doubt.

today was unproductive, long and dreary. usually my desk will be piled with countless job briefs, all to be done within two bloody days, at most. see lok came over and asked if i was okay, and if i needed to talk i could just go over his place. i was biting my lip trying not to cry while mumbling, "i'm trying to get over it." he nodded and walked away.

i said hi to a number of people. it was so superficial. i'm sure by now they can tell that i don't give a damn any more. i refuse to pretend that i'm the perky and bubbly newbie who wants to become everyone's friend.

szu lent me a book to read, "The Craft of Copywriting" and it is really fucking awesome. ok. i need to stop cursing so much. anyway yes, back to the book. the first few pages were so inspiring. in saatchi & saatchi london, around a dozen people come in for interviews each week. they hire ONE writer out of a few HUNDREDS of applicants. and here i am, whining away about how unhappy i am just because I HAVE TO EAT LUNCH ALONE?! i know i let my emo horse take over -- i keep moving from one place to the other, hoping that i would be happier in the next. until when? when will i ever be satisfied and truly happy??! when and where???!

so i am going to try to fix this.
after all, do i really need other people to reach the top? do i really need to fit in this crowd? do i really need to conform to what is expected of me? the more i let this depression get into my head, the more blurry my goals become. stop. think. and focus.

focus.

i called him up. i thought maybe we could talk, maybe he would listen.
but he chose to watch the idiot box instead of talking to me.

so why in the world do i still even bother.

a bad start to a bloody long week.

it's 5 minutes after 1am, and my head is literally throbbing.
mondays are usually long and dreary, so i wasn't expecting this one to be any different. came in to work as usual, and skipped lunch just for the sake of it (i wasn't that hungry, really... ok. i lie. i didn't want to have yet another meal on my own and look just down right pathetic) went over to the finance department only to find out that my cheque hasn't been cleared, and i'll have to wait another two weeks before i get paid at all. that made my stomach twist into this uncomfortable knot. here i am, desperately broke and short of cash. AND working my ass off 10 hours a day. I HAVEN'T EVEN BEEN PAID A SINGLE CENT.

i have to stop over analyzing on the little facts that make me hate going to work so, so, so much. it's either the solitary lunches, the awkward pauses in between making conversation with people who don't give a rat's ass that i even exist, or the condescending tone the certain elitist few adopt when talking to me.

maybe it's just me being paranoid. i've tried being strong, tried not to care, tried to just go through the day without feeling like i'm about to burst into tears at any given minute. because i want to do this, and i know it in my heart that i can do it... but it's so hard.

IT IS SO BLOODY HARD TRYING TO LOVE THIS JOB WHEN I WAKE UP IN THE MORNING AND DREAD HAVING TO GO TO WORK WHERE ALMOST EVERYONE IS JUST FUCKING COLD.

so there i was, just saying out my two cents' worth and the art director i work with starts getting all pissy and snappish. i totally understand him having 100% control in terms of art direction but i thought i was entitled to my own opinions as well! so i said i was sorry, and still he went on acting like i had committed the biggest sin of all (bruising his god forsaken ego) and started throwing a tantrum (crushing the poster we had worked on, which he had just printed and letting out a flurry of anger tinged chinky words he knew i wouldn't understand) - and went on to tell me, "Don't take it personally!" I'm like, wtf? Here you are acting like a child, and you have the goddamn bloody nerve to tell me to NOT TAKE IT PERSONALLY?

WELL FUCK YOU.

of course all this anger came only after i rushed to the toilet, locked myself in a cubicle and cried like it was the end of the world.
i know. i let my weakness get the best of me - i'm such a cry baby. i cry at every open opportunity there is.

i cried when i was in 8tv, because i hated being in constant competition with amri.
i cried when i was in krakatua, because i was sticking out like a sore thumb and was forced to deal with having lunch alone every single day.
i cried when i was in KLue because i felt i was being taken for granted, and heaved with all the petty things other people couldn't be bothered to do.

and God knows the bucketful of tears i cried while i was in mmu.
i used to think i was strong, that i could do this. i could afford to be different than others, that i could banish that misconception about how all tudung girls are kuno, kampung and stupid - and i've been doing it so well for the past 22 years, but why is it getting harder now? why do i feel like i'm starting to lose my ground? that maybe i should just let go and be CONTENT with the fact that

I AM NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO BE THAT DIFFERENT ANYMORE.
for all the times i got slagged off in school for being the only malay in a uniform unit condensed with a majority of chinkies, and in mmu where i had to struggle to not completely blend into the group of "tak kisah, semue pun takpe" malays whom didn't even get to graduate on time,

i was not prepared for this.
i was not prepared.

dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh..

ok it's nearing christmas, meaning new year's looming closer..
i dono la, every time i have the urge to write there'll just be an episode of Grey's Anatomy or Desperate Housewives to watch- great big distractions (but ones that i welcome most graciously, haha) but anyways. after that hormonally charged breakdown the other night, things just sort of started to fall into place.

i know i've never mentioned about how much i hated (and still do, sometimes) going to work. fine, it's the agency of the year, blah blah blah. but the environment is so cold and sterile. everytime i bother making any effort to gel in they'd just push me away. it's been
two months, and i can very well clearly remember with KLue, after two months i felt right at home. i hate feeling disconnected from everyone else - and it's really hard when they've all made stereotype judgements about me (an art director feigned genuine surprise when i mentioned my favourite band. he goes, "wah.. i thought you listen to raihan!") uh. right. not that i feel insulted or anything, but being the small hearted person that i am it's a bitter pill to swallow. especially it isn't just one person but a substantial number who talk to me like i'm a rung lower than they are.

i hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, ABSOLUTELY HATE IT.
which is why i didn't really feel like going to the company party last night. but i did, and it was fine. everyone was nice. i had a rather decent time. hummmmmmm. i also had my first two recordings over at add audio last week, they were rather daunting at first but i'm glad some people were really helpful.

went over to laundry for the Junk Garage Video Workshop earlier. speaking of Junk, i am so freaking mad at this one writer who totally ripped off my review of the crossborders gig from the KLue blog, and rehashed it as her own and it got published in Issue #2. i don't care if people say imitation is the best form of flattery... that's just plagiarism! ughhhhh. i haven't told adlin... i don't know if i should. but i do want to tell him that if his contributors were just going to rip other people's articles and present them as their own, then I MIGHT AS WELL BLOODY WRITE for Junk. So there. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. ok it's almost 2.15 and i am ranting like nobody's business. esok merengkot la nak bangun pagi gi keje. demit. another long week, and i haven't even been paid a single cent yet.

good night suckers.

6 weeks and counting

ok fine. 6 weeks and one measly post. it's not like i chose not to update, i haven't been able to. i've been plonked with a 10 year old ancient good-for-nothing imac which is incapable of running javascript. true, copywriters are considered the lower life forms (but i digress, the guys i sit in between both use G4s!)
ugh.

i had tonnes to write before. now i'm just at lost for words. it's almost 11.45pm and i'm going through my first listen of Light Grenades. Brandon sounds electric, and Mike's guitar playing is mindblowing as always, but i'm not sure if i will like this album as much as i loved Morning View.
sigh.
will write more now that i am finally connected at home. no more solitary nights staring at the wall, disconnected from the world, deprived of a much needed idiot box.
more of that later. i need to lie down in bed (yes, i finally have a proper bed courtesy of the parental units' 5th visit to Ikea) and fully immerse myself in Incubus.
#re-edit
light grenades is totally different. different in a sense that every track stands on its own!
anyway. he called. as much as i promised myself that i wasn't going to take crap anymore, there i was, talking to him animatedly like nothing ever happened.
bloody hell! ok nak tido.

i miss my holga. and *SHOCKERS* i miss mmu.