Nick Burns

Today I played the Company's Computer Guy with the department printer.

Went in there, got my fingers dirty and burnt them ouches trying to fix a nasty paper jam. T'was hard work. Answering the "WHAT are you doing?" questions, I mean.

"Making new friends."
"I'm destressing."
"Research."
"Toasting bread."
"Looking for attention."
"Saving the world."
"Nothing. What are YOU doing?"

And I managed to fix it without calling MIS. Well... I did. But no one was around. Bastard slackers.

Which reminds me. Duty calls.

Morning Misadventure #89

This morning, I waited in the taxi queue for a good 40 minutes before caving in and calling for one. The wait wasn't all that bad, thanks to the iProd. But I didn't think I had a chance in getting a ride anytime soon.

So I called the cab companies. Waited a good 10 minutes before they assigned me one (#4524) and I left the queue.

And whaddya know? Immediately after, 4 cabs pulled up. Bastards.

It gets better.

So my cab came. I got in. Started reading a book. 10 minutes later, swanky information display system caught my eye. And it had details of my booking. The destination was about the same. But wait a minute, that's not my name. Or not my phone number. So I looked around for the cab ID and to my horror, it's #4732.

Miss Wu, I'm sorry I stole your cab.

Detour

My mood made a sharp turn towards Happy Lane this evening when I went to a friend's to watch High Fidelity.

We like how Nick Hornby is honest about men being arses. And we loves the John Cusack. But what we adore even more is Jack Black being more than a little goofy (sha na na na na na na). One of my favourite movie moments featuring Jack is more than a little inspirational.

I've been really tryin, baby
Tryin to hold back these feeling for so long
And if you feel, like I feel... sugar
Come on...

If you get on a stage and croon that to me, I'm so yours. So very much. All night. All weekend. All month. All year. For life.

Lip-sync if you will - Marvin won't mind. Make a fool of yourself - and I'll be a fool for you. Because that... is how you ask someone to make babies with you.

Seriously, that's not too much to ask for, right? :)

Volcano

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Actually, there wasn't any waking up to do because I didn't really sleep.

Uninvited thoughts and feelings aside, my lower left back was aching - feeling terribly bruised. Having gone through this before, I panicked and made an appointment to see Dr. Wong over lunch.

Fatigue aside (he noticed my eyebags), he said everything looked in order. Regardless, he gave me painkillers to remedy the situation in the meantime. But it wasn't enough to allay my concerns. Because I've been here before...

Just when you think everything's alright, wham!

Come into my world

There I was, writing more stories on the bed when I looked up and saw a photo-op which perfectly summarises my week thus far.



I devour at least 3 books at any one time and these few make up the reading platter these last few days. The NY shotglass is a makeshift ashtray for the few sticks of cigs I've been puffing while I write. And if you look closely, you'll see my guitar in the back (guarded by Pokey). It's a humble little thing and I've enjoyed some carefree strumming on it this week.

Minimal productivity, maximum enjoyment.

Dear friends...

I was working on some art and needed a 2nd opinion so I grabbed the nearest person online to take a look at it.

Jack: I've actually got to run. The missus just woke up and is groggy, slow-moving, and vulnerable. Now's my chance. :P
Me: Hah
Me: Ok go.
Jack: *pounce*
Jack logged out.

Uhmm. People-I-adore-so-very-much, I'm happy that you're all making nookie but please refrain from planting those images in my head. The last thing I want is to not be able to look at you in the face when we meet next because I've got you naked in my head, on your knees, humping your ladyfriend (who's looking embarrassingly naked even if she's got a nice dress on), making signature groans and sweating your silly glands off. Please.

These Crying Game showers are getting far too painful.

Awful Discovery

We have just returned from 'power' cycling and are sprawled on the sofa, cooling down while Discovery Channel is playing in the background. And oh noes, it's a feature on inedible delicacies in China and Mongolia. Insects, blood, worms et al, we can stomach. But then they had to bring out a pregnant goat and rip its foetus out to stew.

Excuse me while I cry.

Chiefly Seattle

Part two of my American rendezvous involved 2 weeks of Seattle splendour. Hello again Picasa. Thanks for helping me out with the pictures.

Mmmm... donuts. Is there anything they can't do?


Friendly skies. The weather was very kind on me. Out of the 2 weeks that I was there, I believe it only rained once (almost disappointing). Thank you God.


To market to market... to get a fresh catch, piping-hot bread and gorgeous trinkets.


Caution, penguin crossing. I went to Archie McPhee's and made a new friend.


Pure indulgence. These things happen only once every 2 years - Mac & Cheese, Meatloaf and Krispy Kreme donuts.


International House of Peace. United Nations? What the world needs now is pancakes. Note: It's not out-of-focus. I was being philosophical with this shot.


Hipsterville. Out here, the kids are cooler. They certainly look and talk the part.


I won't hide the fact that I'm in love with the city. Everything was gorgeous right to the end - even with the robbery and bad 1-week cold ordeal. And I miss the fabulous company I had when I was there, including the crack-addict who was generous enough to share his stories.

To fully capture the beauty of it all, I'll probably need to write a screenplay...

Sleepless for Seattle.

What's the question again?

The television is playing in the background as I'm doing my writing tonight (fun stories that I'll share sometime). And we're watching Extreme Makeover, where they're about to operate on this couple who feel a tad insecure with how they look. The night before the do, man proposes to his woman - who's caught by surprise (I'm not surprised though).

So after 5 minutes of crying, saying how beautiful the ring was and how lovely the box was looking, the man asks, "So is that a yes?". Woman looks at ring, looks back at him, "Whahuh?" It took her a fair bit before going, "Sure. I didn't say yes?"

Oof.

Which brought me back to a morning in 2000, when I was on the phone with A. I'd just woken up (eyes closed, snuggled under the covers). And he was getting ready for work. We hadn't seen each other for a while - him busy with his gigs in 4-hours-away-land and me, working far too many late nights. After whinging about work and drowning each other in Hallmark-mush, he tells me about our past, the present and how much he's looking forward to the future. After exchanging more I-love-yous, he asks, rather innocently, "So?"

"Mmmmm. What are you wearing?"

"Heh. No baby. Not that. What I meant was, will you marry me?"

Oof.

Testing waters

I stepped out of the house this evening for an ice-cream date I'd almost forgotten. Attempts to cancel it earlier today were foiled when Eric offered to come to my neighbourhood. So I thought, it wouldn't hurt to come out and talk to someone face-to-face for a change.

Waited for a bit for him to arrive. When he finally did, as much as I hated tardiness, there was no way to be mad.

Him: Whoa whoa whoa! Looks I got here just in time to save your shorts from falling off.

At this point in time, I looked down and realised I was wearing my low-waisted cargo shorts which so badly wanted to kiss the ground.

Me: Heh. Next, you're going to thank me for saving you the effort of trying to take them off.
Him: No. I was going to apologise for being late. Sorry.

Cute. Not fair.

True to his word, the evening was very relaxed. We got him a sundae (and Evian for me) from McDonald's and walked around the 'park' in front of my flat. I hadn't seen Eric much since we met 2 years ago - and I can't for the life of me remember how and when we arranged to meet today. And I surprised myself by how much fun I had with him, talking about nothing in particular.

When he saw me off at the elevator, we hugged goodbye and as I turned away, I felt his hand linger on the small of my back - which sent a totally different set of feelings rushing to my head.

As I settled back into my comfort zone, I made a silent wish for all other dates to be this comfortale.

Briinnnng-ing-ing!

"When can I see you again?"

P.S. I like that he doesn't text message like vowels are $5 million on the black market.

LA Unconfidential

Thought I'd share my LA experience (25/12/04 - 31/12/04). Hello Picasa! Thanks for making the job so much easier.

Take me to your leader - So I can whoop him for not telling me this was going to be the only day with lovely weather.


"Rowwwf! My eye!" - Looks are deceiving. Meet the Chinese water torturer of The Grove.


I've got me happy toes! - When in Santa Monica, wear flip-flops.


Sea of silence - There's just no escaping reminders of the year gone past.


Visual feast - I love the art scene. From fat palm trees in Santa Monica...


.. to arresting murals on Venice.


Cool cats - I have to say, at the La Brea tar pits, the statues were much more fascinating than the excavation finds.


Tumble tots - Oh, to be 5 again and get away with rolling down the hills! Sigh.


Mann's Theater Mystique - I discovered that this was as glamorous as Hollywood could get.


And whaddya know? Even thought I stayed in Hollywood, I didn't take a single picture of that goddamned sign.

So what did I think of the city? It was surreal all right. When I first got into town on Christmas Day, I saw a man washing his car - his white t-shirt soaked to titillation. And I remember thinking, "This only happens on television."

That set the tone for the rest of the trip and I didn't fall in love with LA because it felt so fake. It didn't help that the people I encountered were as superficial. Guess I fell into the wrong crowd.

There were some good moments though. (I use 'good' very loosely here.)

I went to Skylight to catch The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. And fell in love with Owen Wilson again. Stepped out of the theater and muttered to myself, "I'm in Hollywood. I will bump into Owen."

Then I stepped on the bus to get some grub 5 blocks away and the smell of piss brought me back to reality.

That night, I stayed out late alone against my better judgement and didn't think I could make the 6-block walk back through Sunset Boulevard. So I decided to wait for a bus. Big mistake.

Not only did I get harassed by some drunks (but was wonderfully saved by Mr. Hero), I alighted 2 blocks too soon and had to walk in the rain (fulfilling my customary wet t-shirt moment). Along the way, I saw a man wrestling on the ground with 2 cops - resisting arrest. And ended up making a detour. Finally in the comfort of my boingy-boingy bed much later, I fell asleep - lulled by the sirens I had grown accustomed to.

How does anyone ever make it in LA?

Rock me to sleep

I got this feeling and it's deep in my body...
Oooh!
It gives me wiggles and it makes my rump shake
I said, Ooh!
If I should touch you, you might be electrocuted
Ooh!
Deep in your body, you will get your first taste...
Owww!

Take a listen (3.9MB)

I'm going to bed with a bang! Goodnight.

Talking meds

Doped up on cough syrup and flu pills yet unable to sleep because I didn't want to do my holiday injustice, I sat down and thought more about the band.

Made a few calls, sent a few PMs and I've rallied all the essentials - groupies (Bonnie and Seth), image consultants (Adam J. and Matthew) and foreign managers (Seth covering Britain, if he can get it pass the missus, and when Valerie wakes up, she'll find out she's handling the Northwest).

Me: I'm going to quit my job and be a rock star
Seth: cool plan
Me: Wyche has decided to join me
Me: We're going to be... the Talking Dildos.
Me: (It's the only way to sell the talking dildos I'm going to prototype.)
Me: Our band motto... Rock Hard!
Seth: I can't play an instrument - can I join?
Me: You can join Bonnie and be our groupies
Me: Adam and Matt are our image consultants
Seth: I can fake the harmonica
Seth: I am your groupie right now!
Me: Ah
Me: You can be our main man in Britain
Me: I'm being bloody serious
Me: Stop giggling!
Seth: okay then
Seth: I will get you all the choice venues and free beer.
Me: Yay!
Me: :)
Me: Thanks
Me: You're a gem
Seth: no worries.
Me: My preccciiiooousss
Seth: ...
Seth: ewwwwww
Me: Hehe
Me: I forgot to warn you that I'm on cold meds
Me: But I assure you, Talking Dildos was born way before I popped those pills
Seth: ah
Seth: fair enough - we can add that top your profile page in Smash Hits magazine
Me: Yay!
Me: We like Smash Hits
Me: Doo dee doo
Seth: there you go
Seth: Trashing hotel rooms, maiking outragoeus demands for stuff in your dressing rooms, cancelling gigs at the last minutes and pissing off fans...that is the life
Me: We're so gonna ride it!
Seth: too right
Me: Send you goooood vibrations
Me: :)
Seth: Which one of you plans on dying of the drug overdose, and which one will be caught by the gutter press in a "liaason" with an underage groupie/
Seth: ?
Me: Hmmm
Me: That will be our future drummer, Nolan
Seth: OK then
Me: I don't know about the latter
Seth: i am working on the rpess release to the BBC...
Me: Damn straight
Me: You're a good man
Me: First, I have to learn to play the guitar
Seth: nah, get the look down first.
Seth: Priorities.
Me: Oh I've got the look
Seth: And watch School Orf Rock.
Me: We're going to be like Devo... with Devo type hats
Me: Look a little phallic
Seth: Excellent
Me: But is that predictable?
Seth: brilliant!
Seth: No, it is "retro"
Seth: and "homage"
Me: We're going to invite Byrne to star in our first music video
Seth: star and...direct, perhaps?
Me: Nah
Me: We're snooty bastards
Seth: yeah, fuck 'em
Me: We prefer to maintain control of the operations
Seth: there ya go!
Me: Yeah
Me: We're also going to have porn editions
Me: To get on the playboy channels and sell our merchandise
Seth: well, go after your market, eh?
Me: And in case the parent groups kick up a fuss
Me: We'll also launch safe sex programs
Me: "Have sex with yourself!"
Seth: wow, you guys have this all planned out.
Seth: I am impressed.
Me: Damn straight, dawg!

I think I've got the magnetic personality covered - what with people I'm talking to getting dumbstruck and typing like a fool. Psssch. And I guess the dry spell is coming handy - I can pull off the sexless, ageless rock star crap and get deranged fans wanting to bear my ass babies.

Phwoah!

If and when I come to my senses, NyQuil's my scapegoat.

Superstar!

So... I'm going to quit my job and be a rock star. And Wyche says that when he gets to Asia, he wants to join my band.

First, I have to learn to play the guitar. What? You gotta start somewhere.

After pitching some of my goofy ideas to him, we've decided that we're going to be the Talking Dildos. (Byrne will burn with disgust.)

I figured that's the only way to sell the talking dildos that I'm going to prototype.

Wyche doesn't know it yet but we might do covers. If it gets bad. Some of the songs that've made it to our list:

• Hooked on a Feeling
• Groovy Kind of Love
• I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)
• Twist and Shout
• Under Pressure
• Hurts So Good

Talking Dildos - Rock hard. We're so gonna ride it.

Oh man. Heh.

Monday night... raw

After hours of reading, mucking around the house and taking the bicycle for a spin, it's time to call it a day. And I would have crashed by now if it weren't for the fact that I'd just showered and my hair is wet.

I have this thing with toiletries. I love shopping for them and it brings me great joy to lather every inch of my skin with shower foam, shampoo, conditioner, facial wash and what-have-yous. And while I have a skin care range that I stick to, I like variety in the other cleansing thingamatogs.

Currently, I'm in love with this aromatherapy set of shower foams and rinses. The combined forces of Ylang Ylang and Jasmine soothe my nerves after a trying day. And at the risk of sounding like a total narcissist, I fall asleep with my nose buried in my skin.

Scents mean a whole lot to me - comfort, pleasure and intrigue. Some of my favourites: babies, freshly-baked bread, new box of colour pencils (each colour has a different scent, I swear), cut grass, rain and... the smell of sex.

My keen sense of smell makes up for my troubled eyesight and I often rely on scents to identify things. Of course, sometimes it works against me - like when I'm stuck in a crowded train with people who've yet to be introduced to deodorant and proper hygiene.

And when I meet someone new, scents help me form impressions and memories.

So, what do you smell like? Think about it.

Work it, sista!

To keep me in the pink of health (steady supply of sneakers, bounty of books, dozens of DVDs, tons of toys and tunes et al), I earn my keep as a copywriter. Every morning, I stumble into the office with half-baked ideas and spend the rest of the day writing, debating, sexing them up proper. And don't leave until carpal tunnel syndrome kicks in - usually no earlier than 8pm.

I've been a workaholic for as long as I can remember. Juggling an internship and full-time studies at 18, I spent no more than 4 hours a day on sleep. That was the time when I picked up smoking as a means of calming my nerves and keeping me awake.

Bad habits followed me through to my work life. And the record for my longest 'shift' stands at 31 hours - when we were producing a dining privileges catalogue in the summer of '03.

I've since slowed down. Thanks in part to a long year of hormone therapy for my kidneys. But mostly because I realised that work + after-work drinks + more work + chain smoking does not equal a life.

When I dived back into work after a 3-week holiday in the States 3 weeks ago, I was literally buried in briefs. As if the volume of work wasn't bad enough, they had to smack us with explosives masquerading as jobs - I still have nightmares about the death of my career if the campaign is not a success.

Day after day, I spent every waking hour thinking about and writing ads for soya milk, credit cards and what-have-yous. Headlines and taglines crept into my dreams. And I felt like my life was one long, bad TV commercial.

This week off work was very much needed. And I'd been looking forward to it with much glee - constantly stopping myself from going squee over it.

But now that I've got all this time in my hand, I feel a certain restlessness. I've been going from website to website, proofreading chunks of text and sending site owners emails detailing typos et al. And holy wow! Never have I felt a greater need to write about the mundane.

Which explains why this is here. Heh.

Psychic hotline

I'm sitting here fiddling with the computer, reading random things from my favourite publications and the phone goes "Briiiiiiiiiiiing-ing-ing" - notification of a new text message.

"Someone's thinking of me", I think - and smile to myself*. But what do I find when I check my message? An unsolicited marketing broadcast for a chatline, asking me to check out their new 'hot babes n hunks pics' service.

"No, thank you. I have a healthy online porn subscription collection which occupies every available slot on my Bookmarks list."**

Now, it's not that I'm furious about the damper on my hopes or that it costs me a bleeding S$0.50 every time I get some message I have no way of blocking in future.

It's just... how do they know I'm single? And did they have to rub it in?

Bastards.

*I get this way too when I receive mail - electronic or paper, even bills. It's nice to be remembered. **Pssscccchh.

Electric company

Sunday turned out to be one of the most wonderful days of my life. It was slightly out of the ordinary - pure magic for the old fart living in monotony.

From morning to afternoon, I had a delightful conversation with a new friend - the kind that gets you thinking about kismet and to sum it up quite colloquially, makes you go hmm.

I snuck out of the house shortly after to meet Martin (in town, visiting his parents and in-laws) and Rob (wonderfully Sunday-slacking) at Muddy Murphy's and we were greeted by a rambunctious crowd of Marines - their presence more trouble than it's worth. The beers were good (can't go wrong with Heineken) but thanks to the lack of cushioning in the stomach, I got a little tipsy too fast. Which culminated in conversations and punchlines you'd never fathom sober.

After shopping for books, giggling with Rob over our common acquaintence Giles, like, who's delightfully like, Mancunian and witnessing some mad verbal sparring between 2 Caucasian tourists, we headed off for dinner. I don't know what possessed me to think of sushi, but sushi it was.

Kids, if you're playing along at home, "Don't drink on an empty stomach and consume raw fish after."

Now you're probably thinking that I got sick and paid homage to the porcelain Gods. But I held strong and walked away with only a fat head of ache. All of us full of rice, sashimi and insanely bad humour, we racked our brains for a bit before deciding what to do next.

"You know, some of us have to report for work tomorrow", says Rob, an Art Director.
"Pssccchhh... it's not like you're going to do any work", I replied.
"Heh heh heh. True."

So we ended up at a LAN gaming centre, a first for me and I couldn't believe how cheap it was. The game of choice was Warcraft III, one of the few computer games I've played this lifetime - and was addicted to. Needless to say, having ignored it for over a year, I sucked proverbial ass.

Then we parted ways and I went home to crash with my big, fat headache. Pain aside, I'm glad everything happened the way it did.

And even more glad I don't have to nurse a hangover this morning.

I don't know what Monday will bring but for now, I've got to get back to my favourite girl...

Hi Oprah.

It's oh so quiet...

Ssh. Ssh. Ssh.

I get a week off work thanks to Chinese New Year festivities. And I'm looking forward to just kicking back and indulging in Lazy Sunday things. The body alarm jolted me back to life at 7:30am and I woke up to an empty house. The mom had already gone to my aunt's place to nurse and cook for her. Except for the rustling of bells on the cats' collars and the sporadic car pulling in and out of the car park, it's pretty peaceful.

I could get used to this.