To Joy, By Joy

I'm back again, I'm such a good grrrl. No intention whatsoever on this post though, I just feel like it. I'm sure everyone's familiar with this recurring "I feel like blogging!" thing. Sucks to be you if you've never experienced it.

I stumbled upon two very inspiring tumblr-ish thingamabobs as of late. Well, honestly I got them from tumblr. teehee. tumblr can be so awesome at times. At the others it's just really a waste of time. But then again, the time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time - a quote so heavily requoted that I don't know anymore nor do I care if it's John Lennon or Bertrand Russell who said it. Does it matter even?

So here, since I've chosen to dedicate this time into writing a post simply because I truly enjoy this very act, I shall allow myself to fully BE in it. I didn't take pictures again. But it's okay, I'm letting this one slide. Perhaps for 2011, I might pick it back up. But that's not for certain, no, it isn't, nothing is, the only certainty in life that I know and am confident of, is death, and with that said, nothing at all is certain, not even you, nor your engagement, nor your status, nor your health, nor the stars, nor...okay I shall not go there, just in case.

As I was saying, the two awe-inspiring thingamabobs, in lieu of photos. Allow me to lightly persuade you to allow yourself to mull it around, over, upside down, inside out, and all about:

Life is really simple, don't complicate it with all your mind games and shizz. Frankly I don't give two hoots about "the game" and if you're playing it, why?

Well that's that then, they're pretty self-explanatory. Goodbye for now. I'm happy.

A christmas and a new year

Hello there, I figured that I should prolly post something here before the year closes.

Let me first put it out here that I tremendously love this blog and I suspect that this love is bigger than my love for twitter. Forget facebook, I wouldn't advise myself to go on that site ever unless...well, unless I intend to make myself feel horribly self unworthy. facebook is bullshit.

So yeah, this blog has been my outlet in the realm of the written, and you know me, I'm forever infatuated with words. It's just too bad that lately, what's deterring me from posting is my fear of being unable to put forth a coherent and cohesive paragraph, let alone a string of sentences of more than 140 characters, after aeons of not writing. My ability to write - or inability, more like - scares me, and has ultimately maimed me.

Nevertheless, here's an attempt at a post :) Onwards with the incoherence!

I haven't been taking pictures as promised. This year has got to be the year with the least photos and the very notion sets a sinking feeling going in me. Pictures are memories. Once, I read a quote somewhere along the lines of "we take pictures to permanently contain the past so that we can move on" and couldn't help but agree. Definitely one of my biggest regrets this year.

I have been more distant (from myself and from everyone and everything else) this year compared to the past few. Where was I? I don't know. Ever since I was introduced to the concept of detachment by Alfred, I was bent on imposing it upon my handling of things in my daily doings and I have to say, this - letting go when life gets tough, living in the present moment, never looking more than 3 days ahead, giving when asked, never seeking only acknowledging, going with the flow, etsy etsy etsy - is a thing of both good AND bad and has certainly reduced the weight of matters but at the same time, made me come off as a spacey, lofty-headed person...at times I feel so hollow, so mechanical I want to smack myself in the head and yell out "WAKE UP AND GET IN CONTROL!" but no, I figured this is nothing but the least painful option to live a life. Detached, indifferent.

With that said, this year has also been my loneliest and freest as I made a solemn vow to steer clear of the unnecessary tug-wars of the heartstrings. Almost perfected the art, but I'm still in need of some repair-works now and then when there's a malfunction and I slip into a form of pathetic bereaved longing. Ack.

It's not like I'm a love hater, I believe in love, just not committed relationships. And what's so wrong about being reluctant to commit?

Summing up 2010 was surprisingly easy. One thing's for sure, I can very safely say that drama was reduced to a bare minimum because of my decision in detachment.

That being one thing, senseless ennui being another.

A piece of mind and peace of mind

The world was turning but it wasn’t turning right.
Like it was spinning on remote control but remotely controllable.

Though I was standing there was no understanding.
And even when I pray, the mind was astray so I asked God,
What’s the name of this game that he plays.

With my left hand clasped to my right,
I screamed silently in my heart with all my might.
Gave the universe a piece of mind and asked for peace of mind.
For I thought I’ve become half the man I used to be
but the fact was, I’ve never been the man I was meant to be.

With realization, reality realized itself.
And my pupils, became pupils.

It took the blind man to teach me love at first sight.
It took the invisible woman to learn to see myself.
It took broken hearts to learn to love whole-heartedly.
It took having nothing to realise I needed nothing.
It took losing my legs to learn how to stand.

Though the company of one became an audience of none,
Being alone wasn’t lonely and love was once again lovely.

As wise men say,
There won’t be a better tomorrow if you can’t move on from today.
So where sadness was the words I sang yesterday,
love is the poetry I choose to write today.

Tomorrow, yesterday & everyday,
I practice my gratitude and work on my attitude.
where presence is a present,
and knowing for certain that the only certainty is uncertainty
and if the universe wills it,
the sun, the wind and even accidents will conspire to make it.

And now we’ve left,
the time where the world was turning but it wasn’t turning right.
In the end, everything is alright.

:: Source ::

woozy

Often we overlook the thin line between judging someone and disliking someone. Could it be that we judge, hence we dislike?

At which point do we decide to pass that daunting judgment; to simply sum one up and "dislike" someone? Has it occurred to you that you are in no position to sum anybody up, let alone decide that someone is worth disliking? Yes, you have.

Then stop it.

The only reason why you are disliking anybody at all right now is thanks to that smug voice inside of you going "I've got this person all figured out and...naaahh"

Hypocrite.

Only Wish

Really

I set out a trap, and you fell into it
I laid out the bait and the animal bit
I conquered the beast, she loved me for it
I set out a trap and she fell into it

I went to her house, she opened the door
She looked at me with pride, she was dirty and pure
It was tempting bait, she watched me commit
She set out a trap and I came to submit

You visit the beast, she causes you pain
She's your enemy, you're covered in stains
You sleep and you eat, you piss and you shit
You conquered the beast, and you will regret it

You will regret but you'll want more of it
You try to come clean but you can't seem to quit
I set out a trap and we fell into it
We will regret it
We will regret

They're obscene, those hard dark eyes
He told me you need advice
One day you'll hear this lullaby
And it will be your turn

Skripchur

He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest onto his stomach.

By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over.

I am not sad.

As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others--the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad.

I am not sad. I am not sad.

Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, in so far as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a littler weaker, but still pumping. and by the mid afternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else.

I am not sad.

Jonathan Safran Foer

We are not idealized wild things.
We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all."

The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion

kittehh

Hi.

At this very moment as I am typing this, I'm going insane from a sudden craving for Tiramisu or Strawberry Cheesecake or Crème Brulée or just ANYTHING from Häagen-Dazs.

Arrghhh.

the last time I did a kitteh was here.

Take it and go

Before I leave here, I want
to hear my name change in the mouth

of another animal.
Let it take long.

He’ll want what I wanted from you—
blood at its richest,

most luminous, in that first moment
it touches the air.

Like the hunted
I need the day’s sharpness—

deeper water,
something alive to sift

through me and kill.
- All Souls Day, Alex Dimitrov

Perhaps a possible explanation to my recent form of subdued / subjugated blogging is of my immense fear of being judged - my words being diced and nitpicked on, my thoughts thought out, myself deduced and scrutinized.

I have the least idea whence this fear first sprouted, nor from when, nor how; but it shouldn't be like that.

This is my blog, my personal space. I didn't set out to get an account just to keel under the pressure from the public eye. This tiny window among the sea of others is just as insignificant and unnoteworthy as any other and the least I could have is the right to write just about anything, however I want to convey it, no matter what the impression it sets forth.

After all, isn't this is my selfish enclosure, and my letters to my future?

Take this as my first step in banishing all people-pleasing thoughts and intentions as I start to look inside and at myself. Also, I'm whipping out my point-and-shoot and putting the pictures into the equation of the decision because, let's face it, IT'S MY BLOG. And well yeah, now that I have no thesis nor assignments to excuse myself from freewriting and now that I have all the fuhreaking time in the world (not really),

I shall write, and I shall shoot, and I shall express.

Your approval is not needed, here's my middle finger to the world.


And now I force feed whoever's reading with some fairly recent photos from my fairly recent BlackBerry:

A random paddlepop sky in random Putrajaya one very random day

A not-so-savoury-looking plate of vegetarian pasta but on the contrary, it tasted simply ambrosial



That's Orianthi, the national animal of Australia. We got free VIPs and she was awesome.



Look what godding did to him.

More randomness to ensue, soon. Mercury is no longer in retrogade and we can all be awesome again!

Do not if you do not.

People, don't we all do what society bids us to? To their rights and wrongs, their dos and don'ts, their needs and wants.

Perhaps this is why I cut ties and I run, too often a time. I do not want of you what you think I do, I do not want anything but sincerity. And if you could just manage that, along with some tact so as to keep your lips sealed - to keep hearts guarded - to not make me feel bad about things, about myself.

Why do you put yourself in such an awkward position, where all your actions and intentions are transparent? There is no doubt that being selfish is not too much of a bad thing...but too much of not too much of something could be a bad thing, regardless of what you say. Isn't it funny how the only times when you weren't nearly selfish are the times when you, oddly, are the most? Sad to say, sad to hear that inferiority got the best of us. Me then, you now.

And you, who's got yourself so far deep into the reaches of your mind. You, whom I cannot fathom, try as I might. Oh believe me, I really did try and at one point, I darn did convince myself that I've grasped it, grasped you. We built dreams of castles in the sky - plans of skyscraper proportions. But a neutral party got the better of us. A party which concept you have always been fond of. A thing in common, a simile - me then, you now.

Then you, sidestepped, wronged you went blundering forth frolicking, foraging, making, growing, living, learning, loving. You always get there before I do, no matter the weather. Pioneer, initiator you. Creative, artsy fartsy you. Smily, grinny, careless you.

You then, me now.


Regrets and apologies on my part, for I too, am only human.

Now, onwards.

Hello September

Ok maybe the post below was a lil too dramatic.

Here's a song to contain everything...instead of, y'know, dramatic words.

:)

My compass is broken

Never nothing but the dream of nothing, never anything but the dream of all.

One day I'm going to look back and tell myself that at age 22, this girl (talentless, ungifted, uninspired and demotivated) has lost faith in most things; that the light in her has - somehow at some points in life - been gradually snuffed into a still, wispy strand of smoke.

I, who was once becoming, am now becoming un.

The future looks terribly bleak from my window, can you see the sparklies from yours?

This is my plea to you, at age 22:

Help me.

Shadow, friend

He was dreaming again.
He was dreaming that he was brand new. That he wasn’t falling apart. That he had never been disappointed before. That he was nothing but blue shiny sky.
He was dreaming again that his world was one big piece of greatness, and that he had a favourite girl who would always be there for him and never give him hard angry eyes.

-keremmermutlu

---

Submerged in thoughts, ensconced in armchair.
Sputtering with grief, choking on regrets.

Swimming in a crowded pool, past colonies long linked.
Hand-in-hand in light.
Aware that the unawares, are aware and in truth,
couldn't care, more or less.
Cry she did. Harangued, they sink.

What more can one do, but to avert her eyes.

- soredom, Juyl'10

Throwin' in

some good stuff.

Life is not by choice.
Things happen to you due to your ties and obligations
and you will just have to go where they take you.
Rise to the occasion.
Eventually you become who you are today
- Not by choice -
from your basic foundations programmed into your head
values?
by influential parties.


It's just...
THE VICIOUS CYCLE.

Transparent (in ent)

Herro. Been a while eh?

Well that's simply because I simply had nothing really interesting to blog about. Or that I am lazy. And dismissive, by dismissing my laziness and simply saying that I had nothing really interesting to blog about.

Yeah.

But today, today when I have my hair all bunched up like Chun Li,
and my mood has perked up from a 3-day flu-like nasal sore (which stretched on to affect my throat, although I still sounded rather normal - thank goodness for that),
and had just woken up from a 2-hour nap which gave me a series of 6 afternoonmares (not kidding - I keep a dream book and I assure you, I have the most bizarre dreams you can ever imagine);

Today, when I'm feeling pretty content after having spent a decent week running about like a uni student, fervently bent on getting everything sorted out in arrangement with my recent employment in something sorta like a newsagent department (only that I present, not generate content) in a new segment of my life,

I'm feeling extra diligent. Much to your startlement.

There you have it. That's what's been happening.

Or what's important - Oops!

I keep dreaming about the ocean floor falling in. I can’t step on solid ground, and I dream about people at my window. They stare in and get swallowed by the tides of oil and salt water and darkness. I open my window to yell to them and my foot kicks my blinds and I wake up in the dark at three in the morning and trace the lines in my walls, counting the bricks that keep the heat in.

Things

It's been a rock and rollin' 4 months or so. The dust has settled, though not clear enough still, to see what's in front of the things right in front of me (or more generally, preferably and fittingly put - things beyond). Things in general, though, have started falling into place. Or berth, a thing I found out today while editing things in a football headline.

Btw I believe the Jabulani is indeed a psycho ball cause it seems to be siding the underdogs. And that its unpredictable faulty trajectory could be caused by the vibes from the vuvuzuelas.

So I learned one thing - that people come and go, but the party must go on, regardless, nevertheless. And another thing - a small, less significant, outlandish department of three equals a larger smoke-filled room - not literally, no of course not. And yes, less smoke.

Don't bother trying to get it. But if you do, I congratulate you for your impressive fathoming skills and we should have a cuppa and a chat-a.

That's the thing.

Hah, metaphors. Did you know that the bull of the idiom thingy in the china shop in reality does not do anything but stand there, all still, china unmoved and unchipped?

I'm digressing. Digressing is a thing in my train of thoughts, I love it. It's...

PROFOUND WHATEVER

I've watched so many movies in the past week, it's making my dream factory go crazy wonky. The other night I dreamt that Chloe (and her amazing boobs) was crazy for Sandy West and they were both speaking Spanish in a hot tub which, you know, is a time machine, which funnels them into Alamut. And Alamut at some places looks so much like Rome - something about them and Cherie and Sarah Marshall prancing around in a love fountain, and next thing you know the whole thing changes and a shooting spree breaks out (and I think I saw Hit Girl somewhere, and Juan Antonio and Cristina and Vicky) in Cell 211. Or was it one of those cells on Shutter Island? Don't know. It was a muddle. But it was very...intriguingly gripping.

Anyilleyhooo, things have become quite orderly although my brain remains scattered. It's the tonnes of things I've been reading and watching. Fleeting images of this and that and whatnot have fueled an imagination so complex, well, my words have thus lost in competition.

THINGS!

Here's food for thought (it was for me on the drive home):

They started out beneath the knowledge tree.
Then they chopped it down to make white picket fences,
And, marching along the railroad tracks,
They smile real wide for the camera lenses.
They made it past the enemy lines
Just to become enslaved in the assembly lines.

Something about the water...

Things have been good to me, and I am grateful.

Happy birthday to me!

“The reason death sticks so closely to life isn’t biological necessity— it’s envy. Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can. But life leaps over oblivion lightly, losing only a thing or two of no importance, and gloom is just a passing shadow of a cloud.” - Yann Martel

I love my people yup yup I love my peeps!

Hold on to your teardrops

You've got a long way to go

Moving through the air, crazy kinda poet kid.

Spending our days translucent, in and out of everything - hanging out with strangers, that's the way that we began. Spraying our names on the trains in silver and black, then I make my way back across the tracks.

I can always find you wherever you are, there's fire in your eyes in the miracle park.

Staring at the sun, thinking it's the moon - a tiny indication, it's gonna happen soon. But not like you expect these silhouettes are getting closer. They bring you what you need, never what you hope for.

I guess by now they should have told you, they're getting closer.

There's so many things I just don't want to say like, "Have you got the stuff? I need a good day." There's so many things I just don't want to do, but your way is my way so walk on through.

I'm all alone on my own misadventure, seeking something that I don't want to find, cause if I do there's no rewind.

I'm on the very last train to wherever, reckon that I'll see you sometime like never, not even in my wildest did I think that it would go like this.

- telepop

Ultimatum

Like a waif-like being struggling to impose or hold its existence against a multitude of odds, my mind is being incessantly bludgeoned with speculations of this, that and the other thing.

I'm making it a point to spark a revolution in there.

Clear the decks for a new chapter...I'm talking about an immediate revamp - a reshuffling of order, both in rank and file. Plus maybe a lil bit of beauty for it might work wonders when beauty is near. It must render itself adept at the laws of comprehension vs rational analytic in due time. Awkward situations where miscommunications and misunderstandings (or none at all) happen have become too rampant for my liking.

For we are all creatures made to survive the harshest of conditions and surroundings. It takes more than wit and blabber for the latest hurdle in my track. Time to put Frankie aside and leap to the occasion, I say.

Or not.

Rawr!

Happy Mommies

Practice does nothing but only exhausts all the spontaneity that I have to give, stop asking me to practise!

Last night was such an amazing night - I loved your gourmet, I loved what you wrote about in your journal, and most importantly I loved how we succeeded in rediscovering each other all over again. The bula bula flipbooks and your name card, thank you. The stacks of cds with the most astonishing of artiste names, from 2pac to tiesto, Dead Can Dance to Bem Sar. The doodles, if there's one thing I enjoy watching anybody do, it's their doodles and sketches and oh didn't you come up with the weirdest of etchings? Perhaps I momentarily lost view of who you really are and saw you for who negativity wants you to appear to be.

For that I am truly sorry.

Lets give this one more shot.

♥

...except to people who don't understand.

Finally got myself a farmer's tan. There. You happy?
GAH!

Oh hello Mountain View,
could you step forward and say hi so we could embark upon something extraordinary?

Qia (inspired) in the Rain

What makes you journey into the night
And take flight
on a pursuit of musical bliss?

Chasing beats
through ghetto streets
To a dungeonous temple left by our soul descendants
In a quest for peace, energy and light.

If you were to find this temple,
Do you have the knowledge to enter the temple?

Do you...want it?
And if you had it...would you flaunt it?

Well It’s yours!

There is approaching light
A-flowing, soaring through your world
The fire burns within your heart
And now it’s yours
If you feel it in yourself
I know the light goes through the stars

Acquiring entrance to the temple is hard but fair.
Track through God-forsaken elements
Because the reward is well worth the journey.
Stay steadfast in your pursuit of the light.
The light is knowledge.

You stay true to your quest.

So let the beauty that is the musical universe engulf you.
Recharge your spirit.
Purify your mind.
Touch your soul.
And give you the eternal joy and happiness you truly deserve.

You now have...

The knowledge.

Mamihlapinatapai

Loneliness is like sitting in an empty room and being aware of the space around you.
It is a condition of separateness.
Solitude is becoming one with the space around you.
It is a condition of union.

Loneliness is small, solitude is large.
Loneliness closes in around you;
solitude expands toward the infinite.

Loneliness has its roots in words, in an internal conversation that nobody answers;
solitude has its roots in the great silence of eternity.

- Kent Nerburn

___________________________________________________________

On the side,

So, guys. I was reading a book about steganography, but I've lost my place.
This is a really good story about antigravity. I can't put it down!
I fucking love this book about bibliophilia.
I started reading the Wikipedia article on gauntlets but stopped when it got too heavy-handed for my tastes.
I was reading the racy memoirs of a Wellington debutante but it made me feel a little sheepish.
I got all wrapped up in a book about bondage.
I wasn't very far into my text on psychological trauma when I had to stop. It hurt too much.
The whole nation is abuzz for the new apiculture guide!

Dawn

As she angrily struggled to hide the stubborn tears from her father upon taking off yet again into the always awaiting chock full of remote possibilities of what may be and whys and wherefores, she was sure of one thing and one thing only - the next time as those many occurrences encore, things will never, ever be the same, ever again. In a multitude, myriad of ways.

Hits and misses,
ghosts and corpses.

Plenty of times she had made the return journey. Plenty of times she burst into flames. Plenty of times she stumbled upon observant discoveries. Plenty of times she played this foolish game. But this time, as gracefulness and gracelessness were simultaneously felt, the tears they eked out uncalled for, unforgivable. Heartfelt hope and heart, they melt.

It wasn't too bad, what a fool she'd be to start complaining.

Now, would you kindly pass me the salt shaker? It is, but time.

Shangri-la, scream that you're happy
Shangri-la, even if you fall over on a straight path

Remnants Revisited

Recollections of yesternight indeed. Well, quite.

I spied with my eye as I hover-revolved - occasionally perching - around the throes of mental battle ensuing an excessive sluice of the written as those individuals rendezvoused amidst the city lights underneath a sole, sparkling star. The resounding stillness of the night was left to settle, only haphazardly punctuated by the constant barking of a distant dog.

Black, I imagined.

The rumblings of modern machinery were curiously absent. It could possibly be that its ubiquity has deigned or bowed its head to what is seemingly - or presumably - the oblivious.

No, not oblivion. Surely not.

It was as if time obligingly stood still, defying its very own principle of impatient indifference, forsaking the minute hand - threatening it that if it were to budge even a nanomiliminute, it would be immediately discharged of its duties and the second hand be immediately promoted to play both (very prosaic, imo) roles.

But we all know that the minute hand knew better.

Well well, shame on you Father Time.

Kaleidoscope

Hexagonal, polygonal?

People...
they see love in a kaleidoscope of ways.
Some give and give - relentlessly, unconditionally.



Wonder for me.

As for me,
love takes form as naturally
as reciprocation, the form
of thankfulness,
of thanksgiving.

I'm a taker and I
appreciate.

I'm a learner and a
subordinate.

And if there is
one thing,
a lesson,
as far as my mind can reason,

The gemlike fragments
tumble and combine
hyperbole, elliptical
topology divine...

may forever be
to me

undefined.

- an idle mind, Febru airy '10

Kitteh

Hi.

Did you know that an earthworm has 5 hearts? Urgh.

Dictionaries' Stories

Those little voices, they bring tidings of an impending misery.
Misery, that of which begets woe.
Woe, that of which begets a frailty deep within the corners of my mind.

Writing about the simple, everyday things in life has come to a grinding halt.


Loosely translated, it could possibly mean blogging.
(shrugs) Pah, nomenclature. I bet "translated" doesn't even come close to the right word.

But, I digress.


Instead, those swirling thoughts are either carefully nitpicked to fit in here - nothing too offensive or infuriating, for instance - or stored safely away in the drafts, locked, keys swallowed.


Why?


'Cause of all you pestilent judgmental creatures.
'Cause you can never be too good at what you do.
'Cause love and hate, both sides are conjoined. Physical forms have to deal with both sides of the coin.

All of us were wrong, except for you.

Silly little smart girl.

Eurus

I enjoyed it.

Potong

Who has never killed an hour? Not casually or without thought, but carefully: a premeditated murder of minutes. The violence comes from a combination of giving up, not caring, and a resignation that getting past it is all you can hope to accomplish. So you kill the hour. You do not work, you do not read, you do not daydream. If you sleep it is not because you need to sleep. And when at last it is over, there is no evidence: no weapon, no blood, and no body. The only clue might be the shadows beneath your eyes or a terribly thin line near the corner of your mouth indicating something has been suffered, that in the privacy of your life you have lost something and the loss is too empty to share.

My my, what is it, really -
Your inability, miss sully
to abort mission completely?

Your idea,
most childlike
like "dire rear"

Not quite.

I vowed, sorta,
to keep the beasties in check.
In rank and file and order,
to separate train from wreck.

Ergo, darling,
Friend or foe,
Scissor it - shoestrings, ties not bows.


- Anger, Janyuar2010

Fine

Reporting in on the fifth day of a new decade, for I am but as lazy as always.

How's everybody a-doin'?

Uni life had finally hit a brick wall and broke through it with might and much glory. I am now an aimless and purposeless being grasping around in the dark for the slightest semblance of...sense and gleaming hope and ambition whatnot and the like.

I foresee more updates, seeing that my schedule is in its lightest of states. (That is, if Glee and Californication have unsuccessfully snatched and whisked me away from the outside, sunny outside.)

For now, I want a workstation - for order, in rank and file, to sit up straight and sit back pillared.

Happy 2010!