Rantglass - because that's how things are.

Two days missing.

Two days missing.

I have been driving to work for more than a month now. Driving is still not an activity as natural as breathing to me, but I reckon I have been doing fine. This is something I have yet to get used to.

What, you enjoy driving? I do not. Try joining the slow crawl back home every weekday, and you will know why.

One thing about being out on the road that gets on my nerves, though:

People who do not use their indicators when they switch lanes.

Into my lane, in particular.

I was in the middle lane, a tad bit grumpy that I had to leave late on a Friday night for the fourth consecutive week, when I noticed that a car ahead of me seemed to be inching closer to mine from the left. No right indicators doing a blink, blink. I was not driving that fast either, but judging from the distance between both our cars, I would have to press really hard on the brakes just to stop in time, and risk getting a bloodcurdling screech of tyres piercing the cool night air.

So I had to swerve a little to the right to avoid the incoming car. A small Kancil, however, was fast approaching from the right lane. It gave a warning honk.

I know, I know! But that car from the left…!

I only managed a timid honk in response – it was the first time I ever had to resort to using it – partly to remind the car to my left of my… humble presence, perhaps.

“Hello? You are still eating into my lane!” Perhaps there will come a time when PA systems are introduced for vehicles other than ambulances.

I think if you were to look down from a helicopter, you would notice that I was being sandwiched between two cars. Three cars utilising two lanes of a four-lane highway.

Thankfully, we pulled it off safe and sound. Lucky buggers…

So yes, I was at fault, too. I should learn to use the car horn more. Something we could consider picking up from the drivers in China or India, who swish in and out of traffic as easily as they change clothes, all the while honking madly, making one or two pedestrians hop backwards (albeit hesitantly) onto the pavement.

On another note, I finally gathered enough guts to make away with the Sex and the City calendar that I had been eying for the past few weeks. It looks really nice. Glossy pages, and beautiful shots of all four ladies. It comes with colourful, unused stickers with various labels such as ‘Meetings’, ‘My Day Off’, ‘Birthdays’ and ‘Hot Date’. Not that the stickers could have done me any good to me anyway.

I still think it would have been much better use to me if it were not made for the year 2004…

On air now: Summer on the Westhill, Kings of Convenience

Details of this entry.Saturday, June 25, 2005, filed under Blogger Archives.
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This has been a really odd week. And it is only Tuesday.

Things just seem to drop out from the skies, raining onto you.

Actually, raindrops are beautiful – sometimes. They need only the golden rays of the sun to glimmer like soft jewels floating down from the sky.

Rain or shine.

Rain and shine.

I wonder how certain things come together. Nothing gives; they just do. Not exactly hand-in-hand, but they belong to each other anyway. Partners they may be, yet they are as different as light and day.

Then again, the phrase ‘opposites attract’ cannot be coined without reason. An action to reaction. An unconscious development to an established foundation. It builds up unknowingly when you think it is as good as gone, then smacks right back into your face with the most obvious solution – a solution that you have been trying to avoid all along.

In short, an option that was never an option has to become the only option there is.

Why, do you think all puzzle pieces will definitely make up a picture? It is possible that it is made up of two, or more. We make it become one.

Alanis may have her own version of irony; but so do I.

It is like getting six free tickets to movies that you cannot go to.

It is like going to a gathering that you had been trying to steer clear from.

Things fall, and they fall into place.

But not always.

Ah, the unpredictableness of it all.

On air now: What If, Coldplay

Details of this entry.Tuesday, June 21, 2005, filed under Blogger Archives.
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Sadly, this is getting somewhat sporadic for my liking. How did other people ever get the time to post an entry (two, or even three) daily?

At work, the table in front of me has this calendar. Whenever I plop down into my seat and pretend to be reading the news through the wires, Miranda smiles back at me. The words ‘Think like Miranda’ are displayed elegantly in script-type fonts, followed by a paragraph consisting of some ant-like words; possibly a description of Miranda herself.

I am tempted to have a look at the calendar, up close. Shall do so when most of the people are away.

You know, of all of the four girls, it has to be Miranda Hobbes.

What are the odds?

Okay, a one-in-four. But there are twelve pages. Still.

There is definitely something at hand here.

I see it every weekday, and it brings a smile to my face.

Well, besides the theme song from the television show playing from some guy’s mobile phone (which, unfortunately, is cut off abruptly whenever he answers the call) anyway.

Someday I am going to make away with that calendar. Maybe I will have it as a souvenir of sorts.

On another note: I did not want to believe it at first; but wow, I am more well-connected than I though. Shudder. Perhaps I shall start a show one day and call it, ‘The Six Degrees of Separation with Strizzt’.

On air now: Talk, Coldplay

Details of this entry.Saturday, June 18, 2005, filed under Blogger Archives.
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“Meet up at the food court below TGV. A table in front of the escalators, next to the waffles stall.”

That was what I kept telling everybody. But when I got there -

“Where’s that damn waffles stall?!”

Crikey. The place has changed. The bookstore wasn’t there anymore; it had gone right down to settle beside a prominent music store – one that still failed to satisfy me (we seriously need a HMV here, for competition’s sake). I admit I have not been there for probably half a year at most, but goodness – I was not expecting change.

But we know that change is inevitable.

Fortunately, we still found each other at the appointed place, despite the absence of the said stall – which, as I recall, used to assail me with the aroma of delicious but overpriced golden waffles that come with two generous scoops of ice cream (or fruits, depending on your choice). I was reminded of the gatherings we had had there. This one adds to the list.

It was a bit odd to see everyone again. Only two months or so may have passed since we parted ways – but I wonder how it would be like if we are to meet up again. There were the regular gossips of who’s-doing-what, future plans, idle discussions. My humble suggestion of meeting up every six months was shot down instantaneously.

“Twice a year? Where can?”
“At least four times in a yearlah!”

I know for sure it will be difficult to get hold of everyone once we make the big leap into the real world. Yet if we do not make a move, we may end up seeing each other in half a decade or something. That could be worse.

“Oi! You married already ah? How come never invite wan?”
“Give me your business card – whoa, creative director already?”

I have absolutely lost contact with my ex-schoolmates.

But the friends I have made in university are the ones that I cannot afford to lose. Thank you for coming, you guys.

I wanna love you but I don’t know if I can.

And just because of those words, I love that damn song. It sticks to my mind like… like… a part of my brain cells, I guess.

On air now: The Hardest Part, Coldplay

Details of this entry.Sunday, June 12, 2005, filed under Blogger Archives.
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“Frankly, I’m taking some time out from… time out,” says Will, albeit a bit awkwardly (not verbatim – times like these I wish I have the DVD to the movie already). Who would not? It may sound odd, but it certainly is not impossible.

Why, I wish I could do that, too.

Wonderful. Blue skies, cool breeze, swaying trees, clear ponds, abundant greens – the only thing that was missing was, me. I just could not fit into that picture just yet.

Let us see. It is now June. Gasp.

Wow, I made it at my new workplace for one whole month. Perhaps I will tell you how I lasted only one day in another company at a later time. A time when I will be able to look back and laugh at myself for coming to such a decision. Gasp again.

But I did not regret that. That job simply was not cut out for me. For a few days, however, I must have walked around with the word ‘loser’ plastered on my forehead.

No point.

In any case, the boss resigned on Monday; my immediate supervisor was on leave for two weeks. I was all alone to fend for myself last week.

No, it was not nice. I was trying to be a little speck of nothing; unseen, and unheard. Most of my attempts failed, though. I was enlisted to help out Mr. Intimidator in a few things. I wish to have nothing else to do with him. But I did my job. That is what matters.

Seriously, I wonder how long it will take for me to get burned out. I am dancing just a little away from the tickling flames. They threaten, mock, and tease. But that little is still a safe distance away.

Then when better recruitment offers come along, my mind wanders again to the what-ifs.

Is this always the case when one has got a new job? How would you know that you have already settled down for good? When can you come to a point where you can confidently decline job interview invitations, although it might lead to better career prospects? When will your decision not be swayed by the slightest thing, or the conflicting voices in your head?

If I were in a cartoon, there would be a million question marks hovering above my head. Blink, blink.

So I concentrated my mind to ring only the tunes of tracks one and three. If at first my enthusiasm was ”!!!!” upon hearing those tracks, it waned to a ”...” when it came to the relatively slower songs – but having looped the tracks, it slowly picked up to a ”~~~” later.

Those symbols do not convey much, do they?

As long as some of the tracks can make me tap on my keyboard like a novice drummer, I will be content. I do not do headbangs.

Yes, it takes some effort to like the new letters. We get no X no Y; not all the time. But it is okay; I had the same trouble with the previous one as well. It certainly was not that much of a rush of blood to the head at first, that one…

Not bad for everyone’s favourite and popular indie rock band, but I wonder how did they ever become an oxymoron?

Details of this entry.Saturday, June 11, 2005, filed under Blogger Archives.
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