Dude, I'm like....hightech

The following post was written on 27th of August but never published, due to some reason I cannot recall. But I'm betting it has something to do with being distracted by shiny stuff. I've added the pics later on and did some editing but just to make things clear, this was written before Ramadhan. Any disrespect is unintentional but if you are feeling that way than.......

That would be all. Thank you.


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Hey did I mentioned that I got me a notebook? I didn't? Oh well....I totally did and it's ossssuuuumm!! I mean not that using the PC sucks donkey balls. It is a Samsung SyncMaster after all. Pretty topnotch............bout like 5 years ago. The thing is, it's in the study area. Open area. Where I have to sit at and put up with a considerable amount of disturbing shit and also makes it hard for me to look at pr0n no privacy. I mean, dude the whole house can totally see me Googling up half naked firemen.


I mean this one time I was looking at half naked photos of Clive Owen right and it was simply.............wonderful. Obviously by this time I was drooling and was so overcome with lust that I cannot even think straight. In my head, Clive and I was running hand in hand down the hill, some Hindi music playing in the background, he was half naked of course and I have curly ringlets a'la Drew Barrymore circa 1990. It was beautiful. And then out of nowhere, I heard my mother voice asking "What the hell are you doing looking at a naked man?" Dude.....I almost died. I mean honest to God. There's nothing more awkward then getting caught looking at provocative pics by your own mother.


Except for that one time when I had to sit through a sex scene with my mom. That was not my damn fault okay. It was that damn Viggo Mortensen fault. I heard rave reviews for that movie, "A History of Violence" and he acted in it and since my mom loved him so much in LOTR as Aragorn, I figured it'll be nice if we watch the DVD together. How in the blue hell am I supposed to know that there's going to be a scene of him pulling his pants down, exposing his damn ass to the world and started banging some chick on the staircase???? How the hell am I supposed to know that?!!! It's a "A History of Violence", not a "A History of Bangin Chicks on the Stairs"!! That was like one of the most disturbing, awkward moments of my life.


Anyways, I digress. Where was I? Riiigghht......Notebook. It's a HP Compaq Presario V3700. 14inch. It's glorious. Now I can look at pr0n all day do my many many assignments in my room without getting disturbed. Here I took some pics.

Pay no attention to the chick in the background. That's just my Wacoal calender. Also ignore the penguin. I like to whack my sis with that when she was around. And uh the Harry Potter thingie....ahhhh let's just say that at one point in my life- that lasted for 4 years - I was obsessed with the Harry Potter series. The notebook, pay attention to that, see how gloooorious it is.

I have a couple of questions however:

1) How do I hook-up my glooooorious notebook to the TV so that I can watch my illegally downloaded shows?

2) What's the best speakers to get? I don't want bigass ones. Think: travel friendly.

3) Is it necessary to get extra battery?

4) What's a good brand for a notebook backpack? I only have the messenger bag.

Get back to me on this one. I need your wise guidance.

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** Actually...the Constantly Dramatic One does not watch pr0n. Seriously. Unlike you pervs out there, I am not visually stimulated. I am intellectually stimulated. Say it with me: Li-te-ro-ti-ca. I read, I don't watch. Imagination is sexier anyways. Remind me one of these days and I'll hook you guys up. I hook you guys up gooood.

After Ramadhan of course.

*** Saying that, bring on the hate comments about how bad of a Muslim I am. Talk about how I'm a fat whore that's going to burn in hell for this. C'mon haters, I know y'all stumpy little fingers are just itching for it. Bring. It.

Mucho gracias

First of, I am feeling much better now. I want to thank all of you guys who have left kind words in the comment section. Thank you so much. It makes me feel all warm inside to know that there's a group of people whom I do not know and probably will never meet in my entire life who care enough to take the time to make me feel better, even though the only thing that connecting us together is this blog. And the mutual love for drama.


Ahem.



Also thanks to my friends who called and texted to make sure that I'm all right. I'm sorry that I didn't answer any of your text messages or phone calls cause I don't feel like weeping down the phone. I do my crying alone, in the dark, on the bed and most of all, without anyone looking. But thank you so much for caring enough to enquire.



Anyways since I was so emo the other day I failed to realise the magical properties of the Internet. No seriously. I have to stop reading high fantasy novels all the time, where the characters lived in medieval times and the only means of communication were letter-carrying-pigeons that seemed to always be shot down or got caught in a storm. I'm serious! It didn't event occurred to me about email. I kept on wondering whether the letter-carrying-pigeons can cross the high seas to get to Malaysia. Grief can render you stupid. But in the case of the Constantly Dramatic One, it can downright make me spastic in the head cause you know.....I'm not that smart to begin with. Sad.



In any event I have Skyped with her and my brother in law. Damn, I even miss my brother in law. I have grown fond of him. Who would have known? They seemed to be settling in fast. My sister has even hit a mall and cycled all around the town to check out stuff. She says there's art museums at every corner that made her think of me cause you know.....I'm an artsy-fartsy-pretentious-snob-wannabe. I go to art galleries and talk about how a piece of art's brush strokes and the saturation of the paint on the canvas made the painting appears surreal when it's actually very dynamic yet sedated......... The previous sentence made absolutely no sense to you? It make absolutely no sense to me as well. And I'm the one that comes up with it. I just throw some words together, say it with a knowing look, a head tilt and a head nod at the end while holding a glass of sparkling juice so that I come off as artsy fartsy and cultured. When I'm not. Just pretentious as fuck.





Anyways, as you guys have pointed out....so she's far away, like 32,710,000 km away (I totally made that up, I have no fucking idea how far Finland is from Malaysia but lets just assume that it's 32,710,000 so that the separation seem more dramatic), but you know Skype is just so awesome. So is MSN video chat. It's not as good as the real thing but it's better than nothing. Also Finland is just 5 hours behind Malaysian when it comes to time difference. Meaning I don't have to stay up into the wee hours of the morning just to chat with her. I have to do that with my brother though. For those of you not in the know, I have an older brother too and he's currently working and living in Chicago. And Chicago is exactly 12 hours behind. Trying to chat online with him is a bitch cause of the time difference.



I am thankful that these days we have the Internet instead of letter-carrying-pigeons. Them pigeons are unreliable little fuckers. But you know it doesn't matter anyways. She could live at the far end of the earth or in a frickin volcano and we might not have emails or skype and it doesn't matter. Because wherever I go or do, there will never be a moment when she is not in my thoughts or in my heart.

Genting Highlands, circa 1989

Aidilfitri, circa 2000

Parting sorrow

Right....do you guys remember my bouts of depression not too long ago? That resulted into several therapy sessions with the college therapist and late night calls to Befrienders? Yeah......So I guess it's time to come clean.

My sister is leaving the country. In fact, the continent. She's migrating to Finland this Tuesday. Her husband who's an engineer for Nokia got a job there. Head of division or something. I'm not particular sure, what I do know is that she's leaving. This Tuesday.

My whole life, I have always been close to my sis. We have a complicated relationship. Loving but competitive. I guess not that complicated. Which sisters are not competitive and bitchy towards each other but still love deeply? Our case is not unique. Nor is this whole migrating to different continent thing. But just saying so doesn't make it any easier.

I was sad since that whole depression thing but I managed to reason shit out. I got myself busy with reading and scrapbooking and my mini project of trying to become a vegetarian and cooking on my own. Also spending as much time as I can with her. Which is difficult because she's married and all. But now that there's only one day left, it's hard to deny any longer of what I have been feeling for a while now. Sad, angry, alone and scared.

All my life my sister has always been there to watch my back. I get in trouble in school and she'll sot it out for me, not my parents. I get into a road accident and she's the one that I called to handle it. I fell down and sprained my ankle and she was the one there helping me out. It has always been that way. No matter what happens to me, I know my sister is always there, watching my back. Even when she's married I know I can still count on her. But now that she's leaving, I feel that the one person who has ever watched over me is leaving. And for once in my life I feel utterly alone. Like I have nowhere to go. No one to talk to. No one to hold me and tell me it'll be okay. It's like falling down without a net. It's terrifying.

I understand that this is for the better. She's off to a better life. She'll be happy there. Starting a brand new life with her husband. She'll be happy there and I only hope what's best for her. But knowing that, knowing that it's all for the better doesn't make the separation and the leaving any easier. It doesn't one bit.

But I'm holding up better now. I did my mourning a while back and now I'm more in control. But you know what's eating me inside? The birthday thing. My birthday is Sept 21st and my sister's on the 24th. For so long as I could remember it has always been our thing to celebrate together, just the two of us on either the 22nd or 23rd. It's our thing. Our tradition. And this.....this would the first year that the tradition be broken. And it won't be the last. Every time I think about that, about things that would never be the same again I know that this is life. It's not all roses and good times.

I'll miss her. It will hurt for a long time afterwards. I will have to learn to live without a safety net but then you know...life goes on. No point in dwelling.

200th

Hey check it out, it's my 200th post. Osssum.





And you know what's more awesome?????? Patt Irmina of Stars to My Burst! fame have awarded me with my first blog award. I feel all loved and shit.






Creative Blogger Award. But of course.



You think being dramatic and coming up with quality bullshit is easy? No my friend, it is not. It takes time, it takes blood, sweat and tears, it takes sore fingers from typing all night long but basically it just takes the natural ability to bullshit your way out of things. Which over the years I have harness to near perfection. Near, not quite there yet but working on it. And with that, with my 200th blog post I feel that it's time I share with you guys some of my favourite blogs. Hence I am awarding these blogs with the Creative Blogger award.

The Constantly Dramatic One blog pick numbero Uno



I have PMS and a Handgun. Any questions? by Natalija



I fucking love this woman's blog. Fucking love it yo. This woman can bitch better than I can, and no that is not exaggeration. She's hilarious! I always hurt myself laughing reading her blog. She turns trash talking into an art form. Unfortunately, it is a private blog therefore it is for invited readers only. I do wish that one day she'll have a public blog so that everyone can laugh their ass off reading her bitchy rantings.



An if she does have a public blog, I bet she'll be famous as hell. And then I am gonna piggyback on her fame cause as some people have pointed it out in my previous entry....I like "ATTENTION". Bitch of course, I am the Constantly Dramatic One.





The Constantly Dramatic One blog pick numbero Dos



Blogs Have the Right to Children by Yossarian



The thing you have to know about Yossarian is that he's a Lieutenant. Like of the military rank and hence how I found his blog when googling up "soldier's blog". Unlike the firefighter, he has no pics on his blog but he does write awesome entries.


I mean he was this guy who sits on his ass during the weekends complaining about how the beer isn't cold enough to a soldier who been sent to Iraq to fight a war. It all started with fun and games and I used to laugh my ass off with his bitching but now, it's only despair. He talks about bombs blowing up his barracks, he talks about seeing his friend die from a gunshot wound and really it give you a glimpse into the psyche of a soldier. And no, it's not great. It's haunting.



Yossarian started blogging with something like this:





"Right. Do you ever think why the fuck did that just happen? What was the chain of events, which led to such bullshit? For instance, why did my mother tell me that Cold Mountain was a good movie? Why did I believe her? Why did I watch the movie and think that it is good? Why did my commander stop by while I was watching it to see my living arrangements? Why did this happen during the love scene between Jude Law and Ms. Kidman? Why did I opt to pause it? Why did the commander take note that Jude Law's ass was paused on my TV as I showed him around? Why did the director decide that what the film was lacking was a GIANT shot of Jude's ass? Why couldn't my commander have dropped by ten second later, or earlier? Why?"



to this



"I saw this kid today, he is about seven years old. All he knows is war. He smiled and I gave him a Pepsi. Then he pointed me in a direction where there were some old Russian rockets rigged to blow up. I had a playground and a broken arm at seven. He has a Pepsi and a bomb. It is God's will. Not mine. It is my job. Not who I am. I keep telling myself these things anyway."



Give it a go.



The Constantly Dramatic One blog pick numbero Tres



Wine Glass Logistics by Elisabeth



Elisabeth's blog read out like a chic lit. But it's better because it's a progressing chic lit that you can take part in by commenting. Short, sweet and straight to the point; every entry gets me hooked and addicted for more. Her life is sooo dramatic that sometimes I just get so jealous. I'm like why does Elisabeth gets the crazy stalker guy? What about her hot neighbour...I want a hot neighbour. And oh don't get me started on the whole best-friend-domestic-abuse situation.



Drama people, drama!!



The Constantly Dramatic One blog pick numbero Cuatro



Let's Go Land by Kerp





"Kerp is Kerplunk for short. A quad (c6-c7) on wheelchair." as it says in his profile. But being in a wheelchair doesn't stop him from being an active observer of the Malaysian political scene. I mean, Kerp is one sarcastic bastard and I say that with much love. Reading Kerp's blog is a like drinking ice lemon tea during a hot day. It's refreshing bebeh.

Kerp is my number one go to blog if I ever wanna read about somebody being sarcastic about Malaysian political scene. He makes something so tedious and irritating into fun and the only reason I'm still in tuned with politics is cause Kerp's blogging about it. And oh, did I mentioned that he's famous too? Dude been interviewed on TV and newspaper on how much a kick ass blogger he is. Seriously.

Feh-mes.

The Constantly Dramatic One blog pick numbero Cinco

Bamboo Nation by Prince Gomolvilas

Prince is a playwright based in San Francisco and his blog is his means of reaching out to his (imaginary) fans. Witty, clever and bitchy, his blog is just charming. And gay. Waaaay gay. Something I do not realise before when I developed a tiny blog crush on him. I was like "OMG soooo cute..." and then he started about how his mangina is aching for Zac Efron and then you know....that was that.

But really, Prince's blog is really fun and I met a couple of blog friends from his blog alone. Quin and Peter, both of whom are on my Facebook friends even though we're worlds apart. Prince Gomolvilas, bringing people together. Be warned though, he put up pics of half naked men on his blog and talk about cocks a lot...so uhhh so if you're super heterosexual and have problems with a grown man talking about other grown men's cocks....then uhhhh..... Bamboo Nation isn't for you.



Now go forth and read these blogs. It will only provide you with hours of fun with exception of Yoss's blog....cause the whole war thing would only make you melancholy. Thanks again to Patt Irmina for awarding me with my first blog award. Evah.

Et tu, Tinesh?

You see, I have this term of endearment for my friends. Sunflower. I know it's weird as hell but sunflower is my favourite flower and when I really like someone, I call them Sunflower. As a term of endearment. Sunflowers are only given to the ones...well the ones that I really like who I think above all, are the family I chose for myself instead of the ones that have been dealt to me by the hands of fate. Not that I don't love my family, of course I do. I mean I have to put up with disturbing shit that they do and the harsh words they say and find it in my heart to love and cherish them still. No family that have been dealt to you by the hands of fate is internal, everlasting love. Where else, the family you chose for yourself are the ones borne out of camaraderie, understanding and most of all respect. And oh yeah, also good times, in-jokes and random moments of stupidity.....which always involves plans that at the moment seemed like a fucking genius plan but when executed is just fucking stupid and will collectively get everyone in trouble. Yes...these is what friendship is all about.











So anyways there's a couple of my sunflowers right here in the blogsphere. There's Gypsy who have been there all they way since the high school years. There's Cheesecakeerian and 3kc/ who goes to the same college as I do for the last 2 years. There's Elfie, who I've known for a short term but grown to be close with and then....there's Tinesh. I don't have that many close guy friends who are non-gay. Seeing that I'm a fag hag and all (as Peter have pointed out) but yup....Tinesh is a close guy friend. A sunflower. Well....he used to be.











Until I stripped him off the title.

Why?

He betrayed me!!!!! Traitor!!!









Omg, you guys remember that little annoying tit that I wanted to stab in the eye with a blunt pencil and then strip her naked, pour honey on her, tie her to a tree and then watch as red ants eat her alive as I cackle my evil laugh? Tweety? Do you remember her? Yup, that bitch.








He went out and party with her.








Traitor. Okay lah, fine....he was invited to a party that she was just so happened to be there. Okay lah. Fine I get it. And he didn't even danced with her on anything but still......Imagine my shock when I logged onto Facebook and then go "Hey Tinesh been tagged".....or "Look he went to a party"........."Looks fun.....hhhmmmm......eh.......Wait. A. Fucking. Minute........................WHAT THE FUCK? IS TWEETY THERE? AND TINESH? MY SUNFLOWER? FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY??!!!" Dude, I almost died.








You traitor!!! You are no longer a sunflower, I disown you. No, seriously. I disown you. You traitorous non-sunflower. Dude, how could you party with her? How do you even stand being in one room with her? Did you feel your IQ trickling out of your ears just being in my room with her? I mean......ewwwwww.............didn't you just felt her stupid disease just attacking your stupidity-immune system? I mean....dude, macha, formerly-a-sunflower....how do you even stand being in a room with her without wanting to smack her face until it bleeds? How?








In an event, you betrayed me. You are no longer a sunflower. In disown you. You are hereby strip of all special privileges that comes with being one of my sunflowers. Stripped!!! And the only way you can make up to me is if you get me a life-sized cut-out of Clive Owen so I could dry hump it. No, seriously. Life-sized cut-out. Dry hump. Failing that, teh tarik at Ali Maju followed by a session of groveling. Your choice. But if you bring your "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" series on Wednesday, I'll forgive you 1 day and half faster than I have planned.





But for now, it stands: You traitor!! I disown you.