Thursday, May 05, 2005

lesson #160: talk to the hand

I am sick and tired of this life. Drifting in and out. My application for internship was rejected. Huh, right, whatever... Sigh. I guess I'm just not used to being rejected. Even though I was only applying for fun, laughter, and enjoyment ('cos I knew chances were slim), I'm still surprisingly feeling the disappointment.


Never mind, I can move on quite easily! Signed up under a job agency today, and tomorrow G and I are gonna try our luck at the bridal shop (haha). I'll also have kickboxing class to occupy me. In the coming days, there will be dance camp, followed by the arrival of E-ed (who'll be staying at my house for 3D/2N), followed by Tea for Two with Zhi, followed by... something else. A work interview, maybe?


And in the midst of it all, we'll have dance roughly two nights per week. BLAH. Am totally sick of dance now. I realise I only enjoy sessions when I'm pushed and challenged and therefore can learn something new. But now? I don't know, man. For example, I had a session just now, a practice for the musical. And the choreography for our item was super simple and basic as compared to the other item we witnessed. I'm not going to complain. The people-picking decision's out of our hands anyway. But what I'm going to do is declare that I'm sick of simple dance moves that do not show my full potential, dance moves that are not really fitting to my style. I have to literally drag my feet to dance sessions nowadays. There's this metaphorical giant metal ball chained to my left ankle and it takes all my willpower, and then some, to overcome the weight. I'm sick of going back to school! I'm sick sick sick of dance!


Anyway, Mambo last night... If I get started on that, I'll never stop. Let's just say fat people swaying around make bad dance-floor neighbours. Ugh. I so hate the face of that fat guy dancing with the drunk girl. I hate him so much I want to use him as a punching bag. One look at him and the word 'repulsive' comes to mind. Oh, sorry for ranting. Anyway, there're these two ugly bitches too, which I shall not speak about as I don't like to waste my time talking about ugly bitches. Let's just say they're very drama mama, but the dramatic effect was lost because they're ugly. And then there's this guy following us everywhere on the dance floor, and he wore this stripey shirt through which you can see his protruding nipples. Eeee-gawwd! Apart from those amusements, Phuture was really quite good (awesome music saved the night).