mindfield

Clever title. Or is it?

Sigh. I haven't been working. For the longest time. In a supressive mode for the same period of time. Not exactly denial; just avoiding thinking about it.

I've tried writing a researched kind of article. The words were okay I guess, but the content is... after reading it over, I came to the conclusion that it's absolutely rubbish.

Sigh again. Feeling a bit depressed here.

Anyway, a bit highlight, it turned out the new girl at my boarding house has many things in common with me. She likes book, pizza (isn't it amazing that from the whole bunch of a dozen or so girl, there's only two of us?) and (well, this is a stretch, I admit) shoes.
More importantly, this girl isn't as serious as most of the people I met here. I'm a bit biased here, 'coz what I like about Junita is that she's not the offensive kind who went nearly ballistic each time a harmless critic went out of my mouth.
I mean, I was just about to say that I didn't really like this or that and some people, reading too much of positive-thinking and be-utterly-nice craps, would literally jump down my throat and tape an X across my lips.
(I admit that I don't see Simon Cowell as offensive as many people do but that doesn't mean that I'm as brutally honest as him.)

Back to the depressing thing again, that's one of several things I've been reflecting these days. There's this particular person at The House who consistently cut off every single remark I made as agressive and much too opinionated that I started thinking maybe, maybe I've gone too far.
I mean, before I wouldn't back down that way. I would only think, darn, this gal is crazy - why shouldn't I say what I want?
And it's not like I was mean. Oh, I can be brutal sometimes but I never do anything below-the-belt. That debacle with Hilbram Dunar had sealed some of the lesson I figured out. So why does this person keep on chopping off practically every letter that come out of my mouth?

So retreat I did. Had I gone way across the line, the line is a dot to me? (Ha, couldn't resist it.)

In the end, I came to the conclusion just to stop offering any comment whenever that girl is around. After all it doesn't matter if she heard me or not - why put up hearing her annoyingly whiny voice telling me I was being subjective?
(And why shouldn't I be? I was offering personal comment here, for crying out loud! I, no matter how much all my fans want to think, am not a prefessional critic.)

Ah. Anyway. Junita's a bit like Nina, my long-gone housemate. They both understand my jokes, even the ones designed merely to inappropriately shock people... How about this one: This guy, a classmate, was busy concentrating and somehow his overtensed hand just gone spastic and ruined his illustration. A scream escaped him immediately, "Setan!" (That's Satan in Bahasa.) I came up behind him and asked quietly, "Did you call me?"
There. That kind. Off-colour and all, probably. It didn't matter much if people appreciate it because I already feed on the fact that it's a bit shocking but sure it's an added pleasure if there's some bystanders giggling.

It's about time I've got my own share of giggling myself.

WHOHOOOOOOOOO!!! It's official people, Clay announced during his Washington's concert that the sales record of his debut album Measure of A Man had gone triple platinum (to you who might not know, it means sold more than three million copies). Yeeehaa!

*Guling-guling on the floor*

You missed his performance on Bee Gees' night, sis? Or just the To Love Somebody part?
It's a bit of repeatition to say this yet again but he made To Love Somebody so good, Simon was cowed. Ha. He told Clay that was the best performance he'd seen during the three Idol contests he's been judging. Ole!

Grease was crazy. Jaded Journalist was at loss at how to describe Clay's sudden take on Michael Jackson-like performance. (He settled for muscle cramp.) I say it's the most endearing performance. Clay knew he looked downright stupid doing it but he had fun nonetheless and he got away with it! Randy was chuckling like crazy, he couldn't speak for a while. Robin Gibb wasn't sure if making fun of oneself was something allowed on AI but he complimented Clay's not taking himself too seriously.
Seacrest was severely impressed and asked for Clay to do it once again ("Oh, no. Enough of that!" Clay protested.) Evil Ryan insisted and Clay bargained for Simon as background dancer. Hah, that sealed it. That was Clay's best week.

Iker must be reading this blog. His performance during last game against Santander had incereased to downright brilliant. I've noticed that most field commentators were usually a fan of Iker's but this one was very particular. He gushed several saccharine comments about darling Iker being "..the best goalkeepeer in the world!" and observations like "...fantastic save!"
Local commentators aired speculations about MU's interest on Iker. Hmmm. Am not sure how to react. I'd hate to see Iker leave Madrid but then it could do lots of good for his career.

(And it wouldn't hurt if he'd end up speaking ingles. My Spanish hasn't reached any passable level!)

Now to the bad news. My academic counsellor, who doesn't deserve the title at all, had once again held me back. I knew dealing with this particular AC meant we had to tread carefully, taking the most appropriate route and literally play it safe the whole time. But ay, Dios, this is taking Procedural too far. What's he afraid of? That a nuke would explode if he helped me sort this?
Stressed, stressed. Only consolation is of course, querido mio.
Gotta tell ya, getting back together wasn't as peachy as it seemed. Lots of misunderstandings and some awkwardness... I felt like I was having stage-fright. But anyway, at least, we're back. Back!

And triple platinum! Don't forget that!