Friday, March 25, 2005

lesson #139: atti-what?

The Blower's Daughter. I hate that song. I mean sure, I can see why people'll like it. It's all poignant and sad and stuff. And sure, sometimes I'd hear the song playing in my head, bits and pieces of it, especially when Damien Rice goes, "I can't take my eeeeeeyes offfff yewwwww..." But subconsciously, I hate it. The essence of the song just totally goes against my principles. I'm not one for whining and wallowing in self-pity and sulking and sinking deep down into a mush of anguish and never being able to get up. So I just hate it when Mr Rice whines on and on and onnnn... all about how he can't take his eyes off some girl. Like, please. There's nothing to gain from self-destructive desolation. Be a man. Do the right thing.


(Speaking of, that Russell Peters fella's over. His jokes have become too popular. You know it's bad when some band peeps repeated the jokes, not-so-funnily, at Starry Nite, which is this concert held at night in SMU some few days back, supposedly its purpose is to relieve stress. All it did was relieve my bladder from the free-flow coffee. Anyway, I was rolling my eyes so far back during the joke-retelling session that I may have resembled the possessed girl from Constantine.)


Oh yes. An ex once said, "You were mostly attitude, but not much of anythin else." No need to wonder which ex that was. I'm sure you've guessed correctly. Are you thinking what I think you're thinking? And am I thinking that you're thinking about that thing I think you're thinking? It was N. 'Nuff said.


Cow. I didn't know whether to feel flattered by the attitude part, or to feel insulted by the 'not much of anything else' part. Surely I wasn't that bad? Surely I was also nice, caring, and sweet and sugary and spicy and sacrificial, at certain times?


Well anyway. He said that yes, I was that bad. Well, what-everrrr. But the point I'm trying to make is, he's one of those guys who can be attracted to girls with attitude, as opposed to sweet, pigtailed, dewy-skinned and utterly naive girl-next-door's. I'd never go for a guy who likes girl-next-door's. Truth is, I can never be one of those girls. I can never be nice all the time, can never shun gossip, can never NOT think of bad thoughts, can never not feel that revenge is a dish best served cold. I'm never gonna be a cooing puppy-lover who can clean dogshit on the floor and console a heartbroken friend on the phone at the same time. I have nothing against dogs, I'll just never be able to pose for a cutesy picture of me squeezing a puppy.


This leads me to realise that sometimes, I may not be a very nice person. One time, I was walking along the underpass linking Taka to Wisma, accompanied by G. We were just strolling and having a nice chat when suddenly, out of nowhere, a bulldozer ran over us.


The bulldozer is in the form of a young Malay woman, whom I think is a shop assistant or something. She was apparently rushing off to somewhere, so she just cut in between me and G and half body-slammed me. Now a lot of people, given the same situation, would've start cursing inside their head - they'll think, "Arr. Fark." Or maybe, "Oh! My goodness. What. On. EARTH... is her problem? Like, UGH!" Or maybe, if you happen to be Indo or would like to bone up your Indo (HINT HINT SHERADINE), you'd say, "Apaan nih! Kurang ajar banget sih tu cewek. Dikirain ini jalan nenek moyangnya gitu?"


Thing is, I didn't THINK the curse words. I said it out loud, "*indignant, throaty noise* Ah! What a bitch!" And the sentence was said in the bitchiest tone that you can possibly think of. G immediately told me that the woman turned back to look at us. I was that loud. Obviously I was indignant and all fired up, but imagine if it'd turned into a catfight. IMAGINE! ..... It'll be quite fun actually. But STILL APPALLING.


Ah. Despite seeing how bad I could be, I'll still never wanna change into a girl-next-door. How many female CEO's do you know who clean dogshit? None. They pay people to do that for them. And I wanna be a CEO, dressed in a powerful Armani suit. Or maybe Valentino. Do they make suits? ANYWAY. After such a long and draggy entry, all I wanted to bring across was that I hope G wasn't silently hoping that I'd change into a nicer, sweeter person. I hope he wasn't expecting me to lose all the 'bitchiness', as he put it.


Like for example, if I don't like one of his friends (and I don't like one - she's called Dodo Bird. If someone from SMU's reading this, ask me who Dodo is. I'd be more than glad to bitch about her. She's a total two-headed snake), he can't expect me to genuinely get along with the person. I'd try my best, and insert some fakery in between, but fakery's as far as I'd go. Most of his friends are great people, though. Which makes you wonder how an extinct bird could've gotten into that 'friends' category. Shouldn't she be in a museum somewhere.