Weekend-er

The trouble with going home for the weekend is the ear-full of drama you're bound to be getting the moment you step on the welcome mat.

I've quietly sworn off anything that potentially might upset my blood pressure. I've been gradually striking off beef and pork from my diet (going cold-turkey isn't a wise decision, unless you want to go through the withdrawal symptoms and battle with the cravings), and it's no Amazing Race/Survivor/death-inducing reality show for me either. The only thing that gives me the heebie-jeebies nowadays is my grade in special commercial law. Yet somehow, the universe always conspires to upset any little plan i might have to detoxify daily life. Oi!

I guess it's the inevitable. You just have to be used to with all the quirks your family harbors. I wont go into details but let's just say my family is an opera-house running on Lipovitan. Eveyone wants to be in a musical. If you're hearing impaired, you might just qualify as a housemate.

Show Me Your Bones

I had nothing else to do today and I desperately needed a break from staring contests with textbooks. So I decided to do a bit of soul-searching, junk-accumulating and headed to the local record store. To fill in the void, so to speak. Haha.

I went to hunt down the latest Yeah Yeah Yeah's frankenstien: Show Your Bones. However, after scouring the whole city, I was appalled to find that nobody had them. Then again, what chance does Karen O have with the likes of SameSame worming its way into the archipelago? Those kids are brandishly odd-- Bugglegum passing for Kool. Oh well.

Instead of launching a tantrum at the scarcity of the third world, I did the next best thing. I ripped it off over the net. Haha. Go ahead. Egg me. I cannot deny the unavoidable truth that yes, I am cheap. Even if I decide to buy it off the net, over ebay's ridiculous prices, what chance is it reaching middle of nowhere? It'll get lost in between somewhere off the equator.

I am cheap. No argument necessary.

But I digress. Show you bones is what it is. It's like dipping your wet finger into the socket-- chock-full of minutes of electrocution. I was half-expecting it to be hellishly sexy, but I was surprised how toned-down they suddenly became. But the grittiness in the sound is still there. 'Guess, the trio has had time to mull things over, fued and all.

Show Your Bones is my official anthem for the year. I've had to pick over Urbandub and the Arctic Monkeys, and that's saying something. I almost want to drop to my knees when Karen O announces over Cheated Hearts that yes, she is "bigger than the sound".

Right now, I cant pick a favorite. It's all too good.

Ana Rex Sia

So the summer's over. Here I am dazed and confused.

I feel guilty I didnt blog. I attempted to do so but I just became lazy in the end. So I opted for disclosures on mute. That has to be the most viable excuse I have.

But this drought over updates doesnt neccessarily mean my summer was bland. It however was well, uhmm... freighteningly psychotic. Whoever decided to resurrect my inner Gandhi wasnt really funny. And by that I dont mean my delusions for world peace. The antibiotics I took when I had the measles somehow was responsible for me developing anorexia. Yes, I was anorexic over the summer. For a good two weeks. My insides turned inside out. It refused food or anything substantially resembling food. I didnt even have junk food. Contrary to popular culture, bungee-jumping down the weighing scale is no fun at all. I've always had weight issues. While people around me are obsessed at defying the pound-meter and have crusades against fat, I however struggle at keeping up with my calorie intake. My weight drops and climbs from 95 to 100 lbs. On good days, I'm a 100, on bad days, I'm 95, on worst, I'm at 92. People always surmise I have an eating disorder. I wish I did so I could have a palpable defense when someone asks me that age-old question: Why are you thin? That's as bad as the other question: Why are you still single?

I'm slowly recovering however. Vital signs good.