copy-paste. edward norton club

12.16am. Now 12.17am. I’ve just finished watching Fight Club, and now I’m alternating between Microsoft-wording(the new blogging) and browsing through all the extra features on the dvd. I must say, I thought the movie was great! In my humble opinion.

Ok, when it comes to movies, I am satisfied with bubblegum. Does that make sense? It’s hard to make sense when you’re keeping an ear on a dvd commentary. Right. If movies were music, then I would be satisfied with Fall Out Boy, Hilary Duff, Hannah Montana, and whatever else that’s brilliantly pink and mainstream. Give me romantic comedies, give me movies with shallow plots that are wonderfully entertaining, give me the same bloody cliché of boy meets girl, boy misunderstands girl, boy makes up with girl, I love it all!

It suffices to say, I thought Fight Club was brilliant, but I don’t actually trust my own judgment because I'm so easily pleased. But it’s the first thing I’ve seen in a while that made me feel.. I don’t know…refreshed? It was refreshing. Yeah. Whatever. And I thought it was funny.

I have a crush on Edward Norton. Fuh.

I confess, I couldn’t finish The Constant Gardener. I returned it without getting half-way past. It’s interesting, but for some reason(maybe i wasn't intellectually stimulated enough), I didn’t like it enough to continue reading it.

Tim-tams here are better! No joke.

Oh, oh. I read this in Nick Hornby’s A Long Way Down:

‘You know that things aren’t going well for you when you can’t even tell people the simplest fact about your life, simply because they’ll presume you’re asking them to feel sorry for you. I suppose it’s why you feel so far way from everyone, in the end; anything you can think of to tell them just ends up making them feel terrible’.

1.04 am.

One of my lecturers is an old man, whom I(affectionately) think of as the Grandpa, and I bet he’s the nice sort, the one that buys ice creams and lollypops for his grandchildren. But his voice and the way he lectures just beseeches you to not pay attention and let your mind wander elsewhere.

I am a devotee of the cult that strives to perfect the art of mind-wandering while keeping a perfectly attentive face, as if you are wholeheartedly, with every fiber of your being, concentrating on what the teacher/lecturer/penceramah is saying. Back in form 2, I was still a novice and horrible at it, like the time in agama class, when there was a boring presentation going on, and I started doodling(that in itself was a no-no. NEVER doodle, unless you’ve mastered the technique of doodling in a manner that looks like you’re scribbling down notes professionally). I broke the cardinal rule of being always aware where the teacher was. I was pleasurably doodling away, when suddenly the ustazah was right behind me, looking over my shoulder! Needless to say, I got the evil eye and a sharp word from her. But with time, I got the hang of it, and by Form 5 I was a pro, if I do say so myself. You should have seen me in biology classes! The ones in the lab. Where the teacher was talking about something to do with plants(in biology, the parts to do with plants were always the most boring ones). I’d look like I wasn’t thinking of anything else but xylems and floem, whereas in reality I would probably have been having my favourite daydream at that point in my life, the one where evil beings(humans, but with fighting skills and some forms of super powers) of some other world storm into the lab to pick a fight or to attack someone(usually the victim would be the teacher/lecturer/penceramah in question) and I’d be the good being(human too, but I’m good), the one who until now had to keep my powers and martial arts prowess a secret, and I’d fight them until they’d slink away.

Yes. I was 16 going on 17, and the level of my fantasies were still at the good-vs.-evil and super powers level. So effing what?

When I was small, in standard 1, there was this one time mom actually had the decency to entrust me with a thermos that was lined with glass inside. This was back in the days where I brought my own lunch to school to eat mase rehat. And I remember mom was reluctant to let me bring it. After all, it was glass and therefore breakable. But for some reason I ended up bringing it anyway. Hmm. Maybe we didn’t have another water-bottle handy mase tu kot, back then if I’m not mistaken we’d just moved back here from Kerteh.

Anyway, I remember mom reminding me a few times to take extra care of the thermos and to make sure I didn’t bang or drop it. And I was extra careful! I made sure I was holding it steady. After I finished eating at the canteen, I went back to class with my friends, but rehat time wasn’t over, and as we all know, it’s a sin to be in the classroom during recess period. So we were just waiting around, maybe we played something, I don’t know. The thermos was still safe and sound, and it was almost a couple minutes until the bell would ring. Almost home free!

I can’t remember what happened right before, but I recall the point where the bell rang. And I had been talking to a few friends, among them this girl named Alia, a bit chubby, fair, wore glasses. She moved away in standard 3. Anyway, the bell rang, and there was the mad rush to get back to classes. Well, Alia rushed off, and in doing so, she bumped into me. She bumped into me, and I dropped the thermos. She didn’t notice I guess, she continued careening off to class. I picked up the thermos, and hoped that the worst hadn’t happened. Yeah, well. No such luck. When I shook the thermos, you could hear all the clunks and ker-chunks the broken pieces of glass made as they bumped against the thermos shell. And I think it almost sounded good for a second, because it sounded like ice clinking against the wall of a big glass of deliciously cold juice or ribena. But of course that notion was dispelled in the next few seconds and I realized I wasn’t careful enough to show mom that I could be careful enough.

When I got home and showed it to her, I was still hoping the thermos would be salvageable in some way, like maybe we could take out all the glass pieces and use the thermos anyway, seeing as on the outside it looked just fine. But mom said we couldn’t use it anymore and threw the thermos away.

When I first started blogging, back in that friendster blog, I didn’t use paragraphs. I would just type a whole block of text for a post. Why on earth did I do that? What part of my brain forgot paragraphs?

p/s: Wei leong and wui ling(damn matching la your names), thanks for tagging me! honestly, i like getting tagged. Gives me a valid reason to talk about myself. anyway, sorry i couldn't get around to doing it yet, still internetless at the apartment, and it's a real bugger. but i'll do it soon. hopefully the bloody internet will be up next week.