April 25, 2002
Listening to: Static-X - Anything But This
As most of you don't know, I have a site up. That means no longer will I be blogging on the shitty pitas... ever again. Ah-hahahahaha.
So yeah, I'll leave this blog up, but it shall never be updated. If you feel like it, you are free to stare into the old entries that will never change :P
Or maybe you can choose to be just a tad more intelligent than the rest of the human race and click here instead.
I'm using Greymatter for my journal now, and I expect feedbacks/comments on my not-so-cool entries, damnit!
What are you staring at now? Go, fuckers, go!
April 17, 2002
Listening to: Static-X - Cold
Things are gonna get ugly. My mother and sister are coming to Sydney to visit me in June. I have a poxy feeling that it will end up as a disaster.
I suppose a little excitement can never do one any harm. Yes, we will fight and bitch at each other like you'll never believe... but what can I do about it?
Below is a normal conversation that happened almost daily back when my sister and I were still in Jakarta. It usually occurred if I had walked out of my room wearing a baggy but comfortable pair of jeans, a loose t-shirt, with my hair tied back with a scrunchie and my face and clothes splotched with either paint and/or charcoal. I would be wearing my glasses and eraser dust would be scattered around my body. In contrast, my sister would be dressed up in the latest trend with perfect hair, clothes and make-up, and she would see this as a perfect opportunity to bug me.
Henny: "Muuuuuum, Skye is dressing like a hippie again!!!"
Skye: "Muuuuuum, Henny is dressing like a fucking disco ball again!"
Mum: "Swearing is not fucking allowed in this house!"
Skye: ::mutters:: "What did you just do then?"
Henny: "You... you profane miscreant!"
Skye: "Nice try. Next time, tell me something that I don't know."
Henny: "Shut up, Gothic freak!"
Skye: "Shut up, Jesus freak."
Henny: ::horrified whines:: "Mum, make her stop... MAKE HER STOP!!!"
Skye: "All hail Satan. Boo."
Mum: "S WORD!!! You, young lady, are grounded til' God knows when."
Henny: "YES!!! YES MUM!! She is SO going to the confessional this Sunday!!"
...
You don't really expect me to want to go through that, do you?
I'm not a Goth. Neither am I a Satanist. It was just so much fun to freak my sister out. I'm sarcastic and mean, but I'm not a stereotypical God-hating Satanic Goth freak. I hate confessionals, and I hate being grounded. I'm not a church person. I always fall asleep during the sermon and wake up seeing an old bitch sitting in a pew across of me, giving me dirty looks or holding up her Rosary at me as if she was the Virgin Mary herself. It happens every single time I go to a church. There must be a curse.
I have a feeling that I will hate the visit. There's an Anglican church near the apartment where I live. I suppose my mother would be dragging me to that place anytime she could. Ugh.
April 15, 2002
Listening to: Radiohead - Street Spirit (Fade Out)
Which Grunge Band Are You?
The word 'influential' is mispelled up there.
Which Rock Chick Are You?
What Pattern Are You?
 | You Are Edward From "Edward Scissorhands."
You are very shy and often misunderstood. Innocent, sweet, and artistic, you like to pass your days by daydreaming and expressing yourself through the arts. You are a truly unique individual. Unfortunately, you are quite lonely, and few people truly understand you. |
Take The Johnny Depp Quiz!
Sometimes I just hate quizzes that are somewhat accurate.
Which John Cusack Are You?
I never wear tux, but I suppose "Ash" can. Muhaha.
Which Travis Member Are You?
Funny... I've always thought this guy was cute, now I find out that he's most like me too. What a world we live in.
Which British Band Are You?
Which Trainspotting Character Are You?
April 15, 2002
Listening to: Silverchair - The Greatest View
This turns out to be one of the best mornings I've ever had in Sydney. Hahahahaha. Guess what happened. Just guess.
Joe called my cell at 5:30, and he was masturbating. He shamelessly confessed to me that he was using my voice to masturbate because it was "so sexy". I freaked out like hell, fortunately Julia and Rodger were on, so I was like, "Quick, what do you say to a fucking naked guy masturbating on the phone to your voice?" Julia said to hang up on him or laugh at him, but I was far too disgusted to laugh at him, and as for hanging up, I was too dazed to do so. Then Rodger said Mindshadow55: "don't drop the tweesers", so I did. Well, with a few little improvements, actually. He was like, "I'm rubbing my balls all hot to your voice," to which I answered, "Don't drop the tiny tweezers, motherfucker. while you're at it, you might suck them dry. Asshole." Then I hung up. It was beautiful. Hah. Let us see if he had the guts to call me again tonight. And yes, I am perfectly aware that it is harrassment. I would be too happy to sue his ugly ass off, but I'm not an official citizen in Australia, so I can't. But I'll make sure that fucker gets what he deserves if he calls me again.
Then I harassed a "friend" of Julia that she scarcely likes. See the conversation below.
FrgOnCrck: hi there hot stuff ;-)
KPeach13: who is this?
FrgOnCrck: this is ash. and you are?
FrgOnCrck: you still there, beautiful?
FrgOnCrck: your name is kristin, isn't it?
KPeach13: uh huh
FrgOnCrck: so how's it going, gorgeous?
FrgOnCrck: what about granting me a nice conversation?
KPeach13 signed off at 5:48:11 AM.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I can't possibly express just how much I LOVE harassing stupid preps!
Yes, I am "Ash", and Ash is slick and fine with the girls. You might find yourself slobbering all over Ash in the near future. One of these days I'll get a new SN and go around the net as "Ash" just for the hell of it. Muahaha. I rule.
I do better as an online guy than a girl... now that is just a disturbing thing to even think about.
Uh... yes.
April 15, 2002
Listening to: Silverchair - Ana's Song (Open Fire)
This is four thirty in the morning in Chatswood, Sydney, and I'm still awake with wet eyes. Why? I've just gone through another nightmare, although I don't really understand why. I haven't had a nightmare in months, yet here I am crying over it.
I may sound childish for crying over a nightmare, but in all my life, there has never been anyone to hold me and tell me that it was all just a dream and isn't really happening. If anything, the nightmare is based on events that have happened in my life.
I can remember every detail of the nightmare. I was seeing the faces of the people that I love, people I used to love, to downright people I hate - there's no such thing as 'people I used to hate' for me. I've learned that once I hate a person, forgiving them would only be another mistake as severe as trusting them in the first place. They were staring at me, their stares were cold and judging, but hollow at the same time. I was crumpled on the ground before them, crying, wanting so much to scream, to ask them to stop giving me those condemning looks. But nothing came out. I could only remain broken on the ground, crying. It was such a pathetic display. I wanted to tell them that I loved them and that I was afraid. I wanted to pour down my emotions, let them know about my feelings, about how lonely I have been all those years, about how heavy antidepressants still can’t fill the hollowness in my heart. But nothing came out, and as I looked up, I caught sight of the people who have hurt me in the past. My mind clouded with my usual hate and I started screaming. In the nightmare, I was screaming so hard that I was pulled out of my skin. This was when I woke up crying and trembling so badly, I was almost convinced that I would die.
I had been out in the balcony half an hour earlier, trying to calm myself down, but for some reasons the tears wouldn't stop falling. The nightmare triggered the bad memories that have never really left the back of my head. I only ended up crying harder instead of calming down.
I hate this shit. I hate myself. I can only hope I won't get an anxiety attack at college hours from now.
April 14, 2002
Listening to: Marilyn Manson - Target Audience (Narcissus Narcosis)
Who's Your Inner Buffy Bad-Girl? Find out @ She's Crafty
I'm Lil, who are you? by Dru & Lexi
which children's storybook character are you?
this quiz was made by colleen
Which Buffy Girl Are You? Find out @ She's Crafty
Boredom can be quite frightening when you think about it...
April 13, 2002
Listening to: Collective Soul - Why
Oh my. I am now officially in love with Queen of the Damned. It's well-directed and it really depicts the sexiness of Anne Rice's vampires. Stuart Townsend - although he's normally a big dork in his other movies - looked so hot in this film. He was sleek, sexy and ironically cold. I've always thought Lestat as a very sexual being, even as a vampire, but I was practically drooling while watching the movie. He was beautiful and perfect, as if he was chiseled from the finest white marble in the world. I also saw Interview with the Vampire, but Tom Cruise made an idiot of himself with his bleached blonde hair and lame blue contact lenses. Stuart Townsend is perfect for the role. His every movement was sexy and I couldn't take my eyes off him. ::drools:: He still looks like a big dork without his Lestat get ups, but he looked so fine in that movie. I almost wished that Lestat were a real character instead of fictional. And Aaliyah looked amazing as Akasha. She had that dark, dangerous, inexplicable look. The movie is excellent, although I imagined Maharet to be younger and just a little more attractive. I loved the scene where Lestat was with Akasha, having a bath in rose petals. It really brought a sense of eroticism and sensuality.
Evi: "Come on, Skye. Let's get out and have some coffee before heading home."
Skye: "..."
Evi: "Skye?"
Skye: "...I can't."
Angel: "Why not?"
Skye: "Because if I move, I will have an orgasm."
Of course it was just an exaggeration, but you get the point. God, Lestat was so fucking sexy. Hahahaha. I kept raving about it to Paulina, Angel and Evi, and each time I got to the part of how sexy he was, Paulina would go, "Skye, calm down, clear off your head... think about Joe," then Angel and Evi would laugh hysterically. Oh thankyouverymuch, Pauline. It's not 'clearing off' my head; it's the act of tainting a holy temple that had been purified by Lestat's sexiness and his sensual vampiric grace.
Speaking of which, I think I have successfully dodged Joe the Jackass tonight. He called when I was having dinner, so I told him to 'call back later' (like in a thousand years). 15 minutes later, he called back (damn him!), and I told him that I was still having dinner, and that I just came out of the movies after watching Queen of the Damned with my friends, as originally planned. That should've given him enough hint that I don't like him, but instead of being mature and realising how much I don't like him, he whined and asked me why didn't I call him. I was so pissed that I told him to call back later, then I turned the cell off. That should at the very least give him a hint that I am not interested in him and I'd love it very much if he'd just stay away from me. If he still calls tomorrow night, I'm buying a new number in Monday. I can't take the mental torture any longer.
By the way, Queen of the Damned must have been the best $10.50 I've ever spent on a movie since I arrived in Sydney. I also love A Beautiful Mind, Sorority Boys, Super Troopers and Panic Room, but I'm casting my vote for Queen of the Damned. It's equally good as Bramstoker's Dracula.
No, I am not obsessed with vampires and/or draculas. It just so happens that the most well-directed movies are about vampires.
::drools:: I am in LURVE with Lestat. Muahaha.
April 13, 2002
Listening to: Tool - 4 Degrees
I'm rather pissed at Ivon at the moment. Not only has she practically offered me as a sacrificial object to an ugly bastard, but her definition of 'good-looking men' and 'great friends' are also PATHETIC. So last night she sent me an SMS asking if I wanted to see Panic Room with her and her friends, along with a guy that she wanted me to meet. She told me that this guy was 'cute' and that he was looking for a 'pretty girlfriend with long hair and fair skin' ("...so I quickly thought of you, Skye! So whaddaya say? He's cute, he's elligible, and I'm sure that he'll fall all over you! You two would make a great couple!"). When I met the 'cute' guy she was raving about, I nearly cried tears of blood. I thought I'd go blind from the harrowing scene before me. He's short, skinny, disgusting, ugly, and he has murky-shitty complexion, with teeth that look more like the fangs of a fucking walrus. I am mentally scarred for life. If that is what 'cute' is really all about, I'd jump off a cliff and be grateful of my death.
He introduced himself to me as Joe - what his real name is I'm not interested to know. And he couldn't shut up even when we were watching the movie. He kept making remarks about how 'ordinary' the movie is and how he has seen the making of Panic Room, so he's no longer impressed. I had a good mind to duct-tape him, put him in a sack full of stones and hurl it down a well. Piss-off. He kept yakking on and on about random things while I tried so hard to concentrate on both the movie and his pre-pubescent voice (despite the fact that he is twenty-six). He kept flashing me his oh-yeah-I'm-sexy smiles every time I looked at him. It sent a deadly chill down my spine. I was disgusted out of my mind. He had apparently shown that he likes me since we first met.
So when I was in the train station with Ivon, she told me that "Jo really likes you, Skye. See, I've told you that he would! So what do you think of him and my other friends?" (she brought 2 other geeky-looking guys that she met through an online chat). I nearly told her that she needed to get out more - meet real people instead of wasting hours in front of a computer with other equally lifeless nerds, but I only ended up saying, "Oh, they're okay, I guess." I couldn't hurt her feelings. She's a sweet girl, just somewhat of a loser.
Up until that point, I still felt sorry for her and restrained from telling her what I really thought of her and her little group of friends. But I lost that pity for her when Joe called me just several hours ago. She has given my cell number to him without my permission. He's a fucking jackass and a moronic conversationalist. He told me that Ivon asked him what kind of girl does he like, and he answered, "I like a girl with fair skin, beautiful long hair and a sweet smile." Ivon thought of me, and told Joe that she knew such a girl and that she was looking for a boyfriend - that girl would be me, but I was not looking for a boyfriend!!! What the hell was she thinking?! I only came because she asked me to. I never said to anyone that I am looking for a boyfriend mainly because I am not. Then he continued on by saying, "And you, Skye, have soft, beautiful fair skin. I bet the parts that are covered with your clothing are a lot lighter, hmm?" No asshole. The body parts that I cover with my clothes are full of scars. "And that hair... so stunning. If only I were there to touch it, I would." Touch it? FUCK NO! "You are sweet and gorgeous, and very smart too. I really enjoy talking to you. Got any plan tomorrow? I heard from Ivon that you love Anne Rice's novels. Queen of the Damned is playing. Wanna watch it with me?" Sweet mother of God... spare me. I told him that I do have a plan to watch it tomorrow, but with my friends. He shamelessly interrupted, "Can I come? I want to watch that too!" He didn't get the message. I had made it clear that I am not going to include him in my plan of going to the movies with my friends tomorrow night, and he innocently asked me if he could come. Jackass jackass jackass jackass jackass. I hate that jackass.
So he called me from 10 O' clock to 2 AM. He probably wouldn't have stopped if I didn't tell him that I was tired. I'm not, but it was pretty effective to get that gimp to shut up and hang up - but not before reminding me that he'd call again tomorrow night, and asked me to give him a call before I go to watch Queen of the Damned so he could tag along. Damn well I won't. I will not let him spoil my fun of watching a movie based on the books written by my favourite author. So what did I talk about with him in the four torturous hours? I didn't talk much except for "Hmm" "Yeah?" "No" "Yes, I know" and "Nope". He was the one babbling on and on about his imaginary sex life with his imaginary ex girlfriend in an imaginary neverland in his imaginary, nonexistent, make-believe, fantasy, pretend, fictional mind. That assfuck. He was yakking entirely of sex for four hours. I've tried to steer the subject away from sex several times to asking what kind of music he likes or what sort of stuff does he like to read, and he only said, "Music? I love pop like Shaggy and Britney Spears (time to gag, Mina and Julia). I don't like reading. So as I was saying, I once fingered my ex girlfriend because..." He asked me if I masturbated and what sex terms I am familiar with, I wanted to tell him, "No, I don't masturbate, unlike you. As for sex term, I only know one; bendoverandstickthatfuckingtongueupyourownassandleavemealone." But instead I only answered with a simple no. He even told me that my voice turned him on and made him want to masturbate. Is that the kind of thing that you'd tell a girl over the phone? I really wanted to tell him to get a mouthful of his own putrid cock so I could have a few minutes of silence.
I really don't understand why do the monkeys always seem to have an attraction on me. When I was 13, there was Irawan. Then Albert and Dedi followed. Then there's Dika... I mustn't forget him. He's your favourite, and yours too. Ugh. I really, really need to remember that all elligible, attractive men in Sydney are either taken, gay, or dead from the waist down. Daniel was somewhat elligible, but he's too big of a wimp for me to handle. Pah.
Is there any single, relationship-frustrated woman who is willing to take this ugly 26-year-old off my hands? He comes with a set of monstrous teeth too... although brains aren't included in the package.
April 11, 2002
Listening to: Red Hot Chilli Pepper - Scar Tissue
You were Kat Bjelland in a past life! You're extremely passionate about music, and try not to compromise your art for anything.. or anyone! You're a whirlwhind of emotion, who can vent like the best of them. You're intelligent, sure of yourself and aren't afraid to say what you think.. provided you're in the right mood, of course!
Find your inner donut.
You and Thom Yorke are a match made in heaven!. You're both quite shy, but highly intelligent and creative people. You might be described as being a wallflower at parties, but it is probably because you're so deep in thought! Music is a huge part of your life and you prefer to experiment with different genres of music, rather than sticking to the same thing, which makes you a perfect couple!
April 09, 2002
Listening to: Dumb music on the radio
Why do I keep forgetting that puking always triggers depression? I've just yarked my guts out and I feel lower than shit inside and out. After lots of bad experience of sticking two fingers down my throat, I should've realised that several grams less of fat is not worth it.
Goodbye pills. I'm flushing you down the toilet. You've never been much help to me, anyway.
April 07, 2002
Listening to: Nothing, but I have an incredibly annoying song stuck in my head
JangMa has an interesting way to get me to reply her e-mails if I haven't replied to her more than a week - she sends me TONS of stupidly flowery forwards with themes like
"A friend is like a flower; fart on them and they'll die"
"God loves you, call 1800-CHRIST-DONATION to send us money"
"Ways to be popular: the complete teen's guide to have permanent cum stain around your mouth and how to conceal that rash from genital herpes"
"Hi, my name is Billy-Bob Brown, son of Billy-Jane Brown. I have gangrene on my toes because I let my horse shit on them. Send this forward to those who care, I get a nickel every time this letter is sent to one person. And I need $100000000000000000000 for the surgery, so please, hurry! I can feel my toes falling apart already."
"Homeless, need money for prostitutes, booze and crack -- Hey, at least I'm being honest."
So the forwards don't have such themes... but you get the drift.
I hate forwards.
And I hate the song that is currently ringing in my head.
Am I not pretty enough? Is my heart too broken?
Damnit.
It's by Kasey Chambers or something-or-other. Whatever the title of the song is, I still hate it. I can't stand whiney pop songs. And yes, that Kasey Chambers chick is ugly. I wouldn't jump on her if I was paid for it.
I'm bored. Nobody's online and my head is getting clogged with the fruitless research on Frida Kahlo I've been doing since yesterday. Pah.
Jed wrote a survey for me, but I'm too lazy to fill them out now. He's in the process of creating a site for surveys, ones he's written and others he's stolen from various online journals on the net. He's the expert for stupid questions. Once it's up, you can all go there everyday and steal any survey you want. I've christened the site as F.A.Q.: Foolish, Asinine Questions, and he loves it :P Muhaha.
April 05, 2002
Listening to: Sneaker Pimps - Six Underground
Guys can be such assholes sometimes, and Daniel is no exception. He flaunted me in front of his friends today when I was with him. Maybe there was nothing wrong with that, except that he was going too far.
All of his friends were rather excited to see me, because according to them, Daniel "has been buzzing his ass off about you." When I walked through the door with him, they quickly recognised me from his photography works. No, not nude shots, you maniacs. They're just pictures of me that he took in Chinatown when we first started going out. When they fired questions to Dan why he didn't introduce me to them sooner, he cockily said, "She's lovely, isn't she? And she's my girl, too," then he picked me up, off the floor, and carried me in his arms. I was pissed but I didn't say anything since I didn't want to embarrass him in front of his friends. He was making an idiot of himself and me while his friends cheered and laughed at him.
So basically he walked around the room with me still in his arms, forcing a smile and trying not to hit him on the head for being so stupid. His friends were laughing at him, not with him. And he didn't realise it, for the worst part. Show-off. That was the first time I've ever seen him being such a dick. He was treating me more like a trophy than a girl. I like him better when he was just being the usual Dan I could talk to instead of a boaster.
And his friend Thom was also grating on my nerves. He kept hitting on me every time Daniel was not in the room. His breath smelt like stale seafood. He didn't wait for Dan to leave the room to ask my cell number. He bombarded me with annoying pleas like, "Come on cutie, don't be so cruel to me. Ya know, I won't bite..." or "You've got a pretty voice. I need to hear it more often. Number please?" He was sitting so close to me, with his stinky breath I could so happily do without.
Where was Daniel? Laughing with his friends and being deliberately not-so-oblivious to what was happening between Thom and myself. I don't understand why, but I can sense that he's afraid of Thom. Maybe not fully afraid, just doesn't want to run in his way. Or maybe he is afraid. I mean, a bulky hunk of shit was openly flirting with his girlfriend and all he did was reluctantly ignoring the display? What a fucking wimp.
We didn't talk much on the way home. He probably knew I was angry and didn't want to piss me off further. But just when we were in front of my apartment, he had the nerve to try to kiss me. I pushed him off crossly and walked out of the car without saying good night or thank you to him. Maybe I was being unappreciative. And maybe I was dishing out what he rightfully deserves.
This must be the second time that I date a glamourpuss, and it will be the last. The next time he calls, I'll break up with him. I've been wanting to, anyway.
April 04, 2002
Listening to: Nirvana - About a Girl
I've got interesting customers in the restaurant. A 14-year-old asked me out on a date when I was putting his order on the table. He was a moron ("Hey chick, got a time for me tomorrow? That Aaliyah movie's playing.") and I had a handful of orders to other tables, so I only replied, "No, I won't be available. Sorry." Then he said, "Bitch." I didn't bother to politely inquire an 'Excuse me?'; I slammed the last order down on the table and walked back to the counter.
When I was carrying a pot of boiling water, an old, smelly, dirty, ugly nerd dropped his fork and asked me to pick it up for him. So I did, and when I was still bending over to the floor, I heard his equally hideous companion snorting and cackling with his ugly laughter. When I turned around with the fork and the kettle, I found his hands posed around my ass, like he was trying to touch it. He wasn't touching me, fortunately. But he was cooing, "Darlin', I've been watchin' your behind. You've got the sexiest bum!" I put the fork down on his table ever so carefully as my grip around the handle of the kettle tightened. I was seriously thinking of throwing it to his face.
Miye came in the nick of time. She dragged me back to the counter and told me to put the kettle down and calm myself. It wasn't easy. Some customers can be such a pain. No wonder Miye and me are the only girls who have worked there longer than a month. Bah.
I'm beginning to think that maybe the AU$12 an hour is not worth it.
April 03, 2002
Listening to: Tool - Maynard's Dick
Rest in peace, Nathan. Wherever you are, I will still be praying for you. Not necessarily because I care or I have forgiven you, just to make sure that I can hold on to what little bits of humanity left in me. So goodbye. Hopefully we'll never meet again - not even in the underworld.
