Sydney Pt. 1

Waking up to the cold dawn,we took a cab to Tullamarine Airport where our Virgin Blue flight to Sydney took off at about 7.15 a.m.I had a knapsack full of rubbish (a shaver?) and a bag of thick clothes and blankets,whereas J carried only a small bag in which both her cameras were stuffed into,along with 4 days worth of winter-proof clothes along with a handy sleeping bag that hung cutely by the side.We reached Sydney about an hour later,took the train to Central from which we took off for Chatswood to leave our bags at L's.Later,lunch at the Sydney Fish Market where we greedily ordered most of what was offered on the menu,including the bizarre choice of sea urchin.Which looked like tongue,and tasted like sewage but the other two enjoyed it.After,we took the train to Darling Harbour-a pretty place that felt congested with the sight of buildings.


Later,we wandered off to some private art exhibition space (where we made clay models and the fiesty lady repeatedly shoved this flier with email adds in my face "so [I] can tell them when [I] blog about this").Right.Later we dropped by the neighboring University of Sydney-a small enclosure right at the heart of the buzzing city,spent a couple minutes there snapping away before taking the bus down to Circular Quay,just in time for sundown.We took a ferry to King's Wharf (the ferry fare included with the Daytripper,inhumanely priced at $16).From the ferry we got a good view of the unremarkable Sydney Opera House,and the stunning Harbour Bridge-a luminous Luna Park right below,looking odd and beautiful next to the orange/purple backdrop.


At King's Wharf,we eyed the pricey bars for a while and walked up to George St,uncomfortably congested on Friday night as large crowds struggle to navigate past narrow sidewalks.By this time we were extremely exhausted,so we stopped by a small dessert joint for some much-needed sugar and took turns taking short naps.Yes,two Asians taking naps in the Sydney CBD on a Friday night,how adventurous.After our brief rejuvenation sesssion,we visited the newly opened Apple store-looking like a modern castle with four wide floors,adorned with sleek white tables and and an army of helpers in orange shirts ready with answers.The Mac Air still looks like one of the most luscious things humankind ever invented.Next,we advanced to George St Union Theatre for a show part of the ongoing Sydney Film Festival,for which we purchased online on Ticketmaster a week before.


Now,my review for anyone prepared to give two cents.American Teen,a supposed documentary that premiered at Sundance about 5 high-school stereotypes features some of the most annoying characters I've seen on screen all year.The whole point of it,I assume,was to show the similarities between individuals of different cliques.It has limited laughs,most of which were spoiled in the trailer.It offers some compelling messages about the troublesome process of fitting in and having to play to peoples' expectations,although a good half of those messages were delivered with the shallowness of a Hills episode.As for the alleged "documentary" title,it was obvious some of the characters were acting up to fit the film's drama quota-the biggest culprit being the apparent outcast Megan,who after confessing her love to a boyfriend sleeps with him and is afterwards abandoned.Then she chooses to skip school for the next 16 days,opting to stay home sobbing to the camera all day until-this jock character (Mitch) appears out of nowhere,says "There's something about Megan,something special about her" and they start dating and doing cutesy things together,but a breakup sms from Mitch later unravels Megan again.Cheesy,and extremely frustrating-I'd rather sit through 2 1/2 hours watching Sarah Jessica Parker whine and bitch than once more subject myself to this heavy-handed "documentary" that has all the believability of reality (tv).

...

Visa

I call out for Pa,informing him I'm borrowing a shirt of his for the interview I have for the US Visa tomorrow.He rises from the couch and leads me to the wardrobe,I say "I need something nice and clean,something that says I'm no terrorist"-he opens the door to a wide array of shirts,all ironed,hung neatly on wooden hangers and meticulously color-coordinated.I instinctively reach for the bright white shirt at the far end-having a booming,authoritative voice in my head announcing "Always go for the crisp,pristine white shirt-it works everytime",but as soon as I put it on I look like a high school student and plays Pokemon cards as a hobby.

I've narrowed it down to two.Either go with the tucked-in,side-parted hair/twenty something look like all my life I've had books and ideals,responding to interview questions conventionally and at the same projecting a person who is somewhat naive and uninformed of many things (maybe "I'll support the black man,because he is very skinny and always on CNN"),therefore totally harmless.Give this boy one of those viza thingies,statz!Or,second option-wear something that will immediately catch the interviewer's attention in a good way,maybe a sari.No,like a shirt advertising McDanold's,or some big American brand-as to show how connected I am with American consumerism and/or pop culture,even going so far to say "I've always felt like I belong in US.It's hard to explain it,but its like,my,destiny,you know?" to show what an agreeable person I am.Maybe I'll talk about the profound impact Oprah has on my life,or more recently,the Kardashian family (they're all so stupid and rich-but they stay together,you know?).

I'm also told that they love asking questions that would surely provoke,one time asking a casually dressed Indian man "But why are you going to the US,would your income support that?".I'm prepared to take in all kinds of questions,knowing they want to see my temper control,or how I react to people being offensive.Maybe they'll ask me why I have so much hair on my hands,or if I'm a bit biased against "those White people".Offering bait,hoping I'll succumb and turn green and explode.

I'm definitely overthinking this.I'm told they hand out visas like free cupcakes,unless you do something radical of course-like turn up with a beard or gun or beard with guns in it or whatever.In the end both Pa & I agree on a summery purple shirt that I'll match with light khakis and a thin leather belt.And crocs,hah!Then I'll gel up my hair,be all suave and charming and use my low baritone voice to say things that sound vaguely sexual but you can't be sure and if its a he I'll drop a napkin and proudly display my gorgeous behind.Now I sound like a prostitute.How easily I've enslaved myself for America.Ha-ha,look at me being the Malaysian wirawan.Maybe I'll turn up using with the Jalur Gemilang stylishly wrapped into a turban (and a golden butterfly brooch right at the front,how lovely) and refuse to speak English.Ok,sleep time.But I'll put a napkin in the pants pocket,Plan Z.

Lunar Sea

Where do drifters go
wonder if they know
there's no limit

...

24

Jose Gonzalez-Down the line
Camera Obscura-Books written for girls
Fleet Foxes-ragged wood

...

Alah bisa,tegal biasa.

Father's Day

Fathers Day is an emotional event for most people (the dark FD submissions on PostSecret will testify to that).As a young teenager,years ago I was prone to lay every blame on my parents-but now that I'm a bit older,I see that people-even you and especially me-are imperfect in some way,but every individual has at least one strong redeeming feature that's worth more than all the mistakes one might commit,to one's self or others.And I know that people say and do a lot of mean things,but if you know them well enough-if you grew up with them,or if they're family-you understand them sometimes better than they understand themselves,you know they mean no harm when they cause hurt and that love is something that pervades everything they do whether they like it or not,whether they see it or not-the essence of it lies not in what they do or say,but its become a part of them and to have known this all your life in someone,is something to be eternally grateful for.

...

Strange Things

Today I didn't even try to hide
I'll stay here and never push things to the side
You can't reach me cause I'm way beyond you today

Today was a pretty day
Autumn comes with
These slight surprises where your life might twist and turn
Hope to unlearn
Strange things will happen
If you let them come around and stick around

Radio Dept.-Strange things will happen

...

New Pussycat Trolls

The PCD minus that one orange tranny who left (presumably to join a circus troop)-have a new song out "When I Grow Up" and to noone's surprise it resembles a cheap S&M advertorial and these girls look more like whores everytime they reappear with new material.Plus all the horrible screeching noises in the background make it annoying as hell.Click on the above pic for said nastiness.

For something that won't make your eardrums commit kamikaze,try Sam Sparrow's Black & Gold (click for vid).I had no idea it was a skinny white boy behind the voice.In other news,Flight of the Conchords is still one of the few watchable shows on tv.I don't remember the exact lines,but/so.

(After the band photoshoot)

Bret: I feel so small after the photoshoot.
Jemaine: Are you bulimic?
Bret: No,but I've realized how many successful bands there are out there compared to ours.
Jemaine: Has their success made you bulimic?

...

Air

Its late in the morning,I peek through my eyelids and catch the glimmers of sun passing through the shutters.My legs are aching in pain for some reason,a wave of negative thoughts hit me like a migraine as soon as I'm fully conscious-maybe if I lay perfectly still,relax my limbs and think only of plain skies I'll fall asleep again.

But the damn phone rings.Like an alarm,reminding me an outside world still exists.Its B,when I pick up there's only silence for a few seconds-then she says "Are you busy Al?"-this is almost never a good sign.B knows I wake up late on Saturday,what she sometimes does is call while I'm still blur and fuzzy-then yells into the phone until I get up and wash my face,or at least pretend to.Finding the politeness extremely suspicious,I tell her I'll be there in 20.

She answers the door and immediately hugs me,tightly.We remain like this for sometime,I stand there rubbing her back for comfort-I can feel her tiny,hard chest heaving slowly against mine,breathing in and out calmly.Eventually we get around to talking,I sit cross-legged on the floor and listen closely as her mouth opens and closes,sentences dropping like dead leaves off a tree-soft and quiet,vague and missing.I gather bits of what she says,try to sum it up but to this she says "No,its not like that".

Finally she gets me to understand,and I don't know what to say.Or do."We'll survive this I'm sure",I say somewhat sadly,failing to hide the feeling of absolute doubt.Again we hug,this time she feels more alive than I am,but barely so-void and powerless,two corpses in tango.

(And all my worries,they simply cease being real.)

...

M83 - Graveyard Girl video

My Drive-Thru

Julian from The Strokes,Santogold & Pharell recently collaborated on a song for Converse,called "My Drive-Thru" which you can download here.It's just ok.Starts real catchy but the non-stop guitar loops are a big throw off.With these 3 working on just one song,I expected something explosive (especially with Pharell around-the man knows his music-the beats could've been much less sloppy) and for some reason after playing the song 3 times I can barely remember any of the lines.

Source.

Does it offend you,Yeah?-Being bad feels pretty good
Sam Sparrow-black & gold
Mark Ronson (feat. Santogold)-Pretty Green
She & Him-I thought I saw your face today

+A quick google search shows a heap of "Wanted-2 tickets to Kooks Melbourne gig" notices and one asshole willing to sell 2 tickets at a starting price of $200 each (original price was around $70) and even then there's already been 37 bids.Fuck it,maybe next year.

..

Winter

More here.

...

OB

1 paper down,30 to go.I mean 3.

OB was just ok.The idea is to memorize a bunch of theories and be able to apply it to whatever's dished in the exam.Basically you have a bunch of surgical tools you learn to use beforehand,so when the ER button flashes you rush to the job (a group of young,unrealistically attractive doctors running along behind you-selflessly ignoring the sexual innuendo plaguing their overly complex lives,white medical coats blazing like capes) and you'll be ready to deal with it,pockets full of blades,linens or whatever doctors use in surgeries.So after we've removed that fist-sized tumor in your brain-you give me a hard handshake while grinning gratefully for the job well done,but I say with a deadpan face "Sir,the tumour's gone but we might have accidentally and unnecessarily shaved your chest and sealed your asshole shut but we've opened up your bellybutton so shit can come out from there".That's how OB was,interpret the metaphor however you want.

And on my way back from the city,grocery bags in hand and wind blowing fiercely in my face I couldn't walk too fast (age catching up to me *cough cough*) and this guy on a long skateboard rushed past me like Zeus on wheels and I wondered if I secretly hopped on behind him he would notice.


Of course he would,cos I'm fucking Bambi (was that the elephant who could fly with his ears?) if you haven't noticed.Which is why I have to start a diet-I've decided for the next few days before I fly home to open arms and properly-filled fridges I have to lose some weight as to provide the illusion of having "changed" in the last 5 months I've been away.Changed,why yes!Look at me,all thin and mature-looking now!I'm so much more responsible now pa,so you can increase my allowance I'll even do a budget and all!."How impressive!",he'll say-throwing wads of cash into my face.

Bianca-Big Brother 08 (on Rory's peen): It's nice because its the first proper schlong I've seen in sometime.

I say the right things
But act the wrong way
I like it right here
But I cannot stay

...

Bad Hare Day

Interesting.Although I'm sure on a normal person (not a model),this would've looked just stupid.Speaking of hair (well,not really),Prince Harry aka Ginger Head visited a school in the UK recently and it was on the news,they interviewed this giggly kid who said something along the lines of "We get along very well Prince Harry & I because he's a ginger and I'm a ginger,and I told him that and said please don't be offended because we gingers should stick together!".Best laugh I've had all week,thanks kid.

Source.

...

Jason Mraz covers Rocket Man

Gold.

Heartbreaker

and the mannequin's eyes
do they all look like mine?
...

Meeting

Quick one-Okay the Kooks gig in August was only advertised this morning,I immediately went to the website and it says SOLD OUT.Argh.Whatever,'Konk' was shit anyways-but anyone with an extra ticket,let's negotiate.

There are papers scattered all over the long wooden table,some on my lap and the couple cups of coffee L bought for us minutes ago are mostly empty."I don't see how this can go on-unless we drastically change our strategy"-S says softly,addressing the floor with downtrodden eyes.The rest of us look to each other doubtfully,before our project leader M finally voices "Mm,why don't we postpone our deadline?..you know,we've have been busy with exams and stuff so things haven't been going as we planned",I nod along like everyone else not knowing what else to do.It has been almost two months since we started,we've since compiled a dozen stack of papers-most of which are probably irrelevant now,except no one dares to throw a single piece out-the numerous receipts and claim forms testifying to our loose spending-our treasurer B lives an hour from the city,and comes for meetings only when its deemed "highly necessary".So our finances resemble a tornado,deadlines for all sorts of things were either ignored or constantly postponed and our morale has officially hit rockbottom.

And then this comely girl dressed in shades of grey and pink starts to speak,I didn't really notice her before and have trouble remembering her name-"We have to do this,I can't just..let it go",M smiles and nudges for P to continue but J cuts in.He mentions the trouble with the venue and rising costs-something we've been discussing all week-and S finishes for him,asking P "Do you really think this is still..realistic?".

With an audacious smile that seems to lighten all our worries,P says "Cuba la".

...

Brothers on a hotel Bed

You may tire of me
As our December sun is setting
Because I'm not who I used to be
No longer easy on the eyes
But these wrinkles masterfully disguise
The youthful boy below

Who turned your way and saw
Something he was not looking for
Both a beginning and an end
But now he lives inside
Someone he does not recognize
When he catches his reflection on accident

On the back of a motorbike
With your arms outstretched, trying to take flight
Leaving everything behind
But even at our swiftest speed
We couldn't break from the concrete
And the city where we still reside

And I have learned
That even landlocked lovers yearn
For the sea like navy men
Because now we say goodnight
From our own separate sides
Like brothers on a hotel bed

DCFC-Brothers on a hotel bed

...

Tracey Ullman

...