So just take a plunge and escape with me

The album cover to my yet-to-be-recorded song. Took me about 10 minutes to edit it. Ha.




P.S. Yes I know I owe you stalkers tons of posts. Especially on my impromptu trip to Melacca with Amen, Ginger and Emo. LoL. Give me another 2 weeks. Finals is around the corner. Boo >:(

You make me wanna get a little naughty

Three little girls went to the club to dance

Looking for thrill and the naughty kind of fun

They wore dresses their moms wouldn’t like

And left the house sharp at midnight

But it was a morning of letdowns and confusion

Started with the toll to make a U-turn

Then the chivas and vodka deprivation

And the oldies in their techno version

‘Sweet Child of Mine’?!Had they lost their mind?

With remixed Big Band and Mambo in line

They tried to grind and get high but failed

While avoiding pervert guys hot on their tails

Choking, scented smoke then filled the place

What a lame attempt at dream-like haze
It did not help that the lights were dim
Nor that bodies of strangers were pressing in

It was dull, not alcohol-intoxicated

And clubbing thus uneventfully ended
The girls went home and slept after supper
Intending to catch classes a little later

A sign for the lack of free alcoholic drinks?

Back in the summer of '69

Work was unexpectedly...WILD. And to some point, maddening, in the on-the-brink-of-insanity sense. The both of us went from handing out free gifts to fending our boxes of goods from being carted away by the horde of maniacs stampeding into the festival. Yes, people actually grabbed the stuff from the box when we had our backs on them. And if I were to make a guess, I would say only 2.5% of these loathsome creatures party-goers were aware that I was giving out HAIR DYE accessories, not bowls for instant noodles. I mean, shoving your 3-year-old child to ask an extra packet of hair coloring product simply because it was free? Like, seriously? Sheesh. Malaysians.

But no matter. Positive experiences overweighted negative ones.

I got paid. Or more like, going to get paid. A hundred bucks for 8 hours. It was stated from 2-10pm but we were released at 8pm. Wicked (: Credits goes to Amanda for getting me the job. To be honest, I only agreed more of the fact that she was going to be there the whole time, not the money. I'm saving job-hunting for after everyone left for overseas in the next couple of months. Maybe during the long semester break.

I met new people, as in Amanda's colleagues. Not that I interacted much with them. Dialect barrier. I know I should be picking up Cantonese by this age but so far nothing had motivated me to do so yet.

I spent the first 3 hours of work labeling the free company gifts under the merciful shelter of the abandoned sports complex, being fanned by a strong breeze and chatting with Amanda and Kevin. Well, I wouldn't say the monotonous job was fun, at least it was much preferable than running around in the heat for God-knows-what errands.

I got to wear a yugata, a summer single-layer kimono, for one. Even though it took 3 pairs of hands and around 20 minutes to don it on me and movements were restricted afterwards, it was still something fresh for me.

But what astounded me was, and I found this absurdly ludicrous, random strangers actually came up and requested for a photo with, and of, me. 12 of them. These people would sneak up on me, tap  me on the shoulder and go, "Can I?" while doing that clicking action with his fingers.
"Erm...."
"Look there at the camera!"
No kidding.
Must be the yugata. And the fugly pink hairband. Though I still don't comprehend why some spoke to us in Japanese =.=''

So yeah. All in all, my working stint at Bon Odori was somewhat fun. Exhilarating, ALMOST. Then again,

Any occasion, no matter how hellish + Amanda = Awesome (: 

In the rush of Cheer assignments

*Unedited version*

Vuvuzelas are hot in Cheer!

by Tham Ying Hui

Meet Bryan Wong Yi Jun. He was the 15-year old football enthusiast who had brought the house down with his very own Vuvuzela, or should I say, Vuvuzelas.

Just in case you are illiterate in the said sport, a Vuvuzela is an elongated trumpet-shaped noise-maker of choice for the South African FIFA World Cup fans. It is usually about a meter long and made up of a colorful plastic.

Football fans know it as the distinct deafening buzzing that has become the unofficial anthem of this international game. But not many of them know that the loud blaring sound stems from its history of being the instrument that called the King’s guards to a council meeting. It was made from the horns of kudu antelopes then and the sound could travel further.

Centuries later and alterations were made to the Vuvuzelas, though the intensity of the noise did not diminish much, as Bryan gladly demonstrated to us.

When asked how he got hold of the World Cup’s new icon, albeit an ill-favored one, he said they were gifts from his parents, who visited South Africa recently.

“They knew I was a football fan, so they went and got me this,” he enthused, holding up a blue color Vuvuzela, which cost RM 30. The cream color one was a hotel gift.

Taking advantage of the football fever, Bryan decided to bring his Vuvuzelas to cheer his school’s team on, adding to the hype surrounding Cheer 2010 Finals.

Well, it was definitely good thinking as SM Sri Kuala Lumpur was awarded the Best Supporters Award.

And Bryan, any shout-outs?

“Go fight, Cyrens!”

P.S. Here you go, Yiing Huey!

P.P.S. Article may appear a little different when it is published on RAGE on Wednesday. Author suffers from Grammatical Errors Syndrome, thus her articles need to be highly edited before presenting to the public.

P.P.P.S. Photos related to the article would have to wait. 

Hey now you're an All Star get your game on, go play

I am smiling.

My head is throbbing from sleep deprivation and exhaustion; my ears still ringing with the intensity of the deafening music; my voice cracking from my futile attempts to interview over the booming of the gargantuan speakers; my legs wobbly from holding my slumped figure up the entire day while doing marathons between backstage and workstation; and my mind is having an assignment-overload-breakdown.

But I am smiling.

Not just because I took a photo with Jeremy the cute Red.fm host, though it did make me giggly and tipsy all the way home.

It was because:

1. The event was BRATs infested.

Which meant…reunion with ma’ fellow camp mates, albeit a thin slice of the whole BRATs Cats cake! And meeting new annoying teenagers awesome people from previous groups. Hello, Alex, Adrian, Andrian, Aza and Christine!

But you know what the best part was? William being there (: The William who is perplexingly random and whose remarks are at times mind-bogglingly confounding and incomprehensible. The William, who loves blood and gore and practices sadomasochism in a cult-like manner, or so he claims. The William, who travelled more than 4 hours down from Penang to volunteer at Cheer 2010.

And thanks to him, I got the chance to cover the story of the Vuvuzelas.

Of course, every single article would not have been possible if it weren't for everyone's involvement. So thank you, guys!

Like Tristan said, it was our first field assignment outside camp. We need improvement but it was still a job well done (:

2. I got a bite of the behind-the-scenes cookie as a mini journalist.

The experience tasted like syrup on a plain pancake of expected reports on the teams. I dashed between the sidelines and the backstage, I interviewed the cheerleaders while trying to make my scribbling legible, I relaxed by watching the performances when it wasn’t my turn to squeeze information out of them, I savored the feeling of crossing the exclusive section of media and invited guests and I got to sit at the judges’ area, on the floor, provided I wasn’t busy slaving.

3. I saw past the pom-poms, glittery costumes, glossy lips and painted faces.

Before today, I was anti-cheerleading, or more specifically, cheerleaders. Probably because SOME of those from my high school that I knew were airheads, drama queens and attention seekers. But given the opportunity to interview them and watch the performances from a different point of view, I saw a side of them that I used to refuse to acknowledge.

They were performers, for one. They stumbled, they slipped, they fell on stage, but they never faltered in their routine, never shed the smiling mask, never displayed their disappointment. This is what I called showmanship. You know, MBE performers could really do with learning from them. Everyone ALWAYS looked like someone just died or they had eaten rotten food.

Two, they were pretty friendly and open. They were willing to be interviewed even when they had just executed a ‘less than perfect’ performance, even when one or more of their squad members were injured and recuperating on the stretcher. Funny thing was, some of them were actually…shy. I mean, judging on what they did in front of a stadium full of supporters, it was absurd to think they found the mike even intimidating. Of course, there were those who clamored around me when they heard the word ‘interview’, but it was just a handful.

4. William’s camera was a survivor!

All the other cameras, including DSLRs, died. No kidding. William’s was also on the brink of battery exhaustion but not before we took photos with Jeremy. Yes, it was crucial and with utmost importance we did so. At first, we were just aiming for a group shot, what with the depleting battery power and all. Till someone went, “Jeremy, can I please have another photo with you?”

“Yes, of course you can!”

SQUEALS.

Jeremy Teo of Red.fm, you made my day (:

We took a group shot with 2 of the judges and Terry Ong, the other Red.fm host as well. Wheeee. The celebrity-ness of it all made me all frizzy and fuzzy.

Much love

Terry, you were awesome too!

William was starstruck 'coz he got to take a photo with the oh-so-hot Ying Hui. HAHA XD

So, yeah. Cheer 2010 was nothing like I had thought it would be. It gave my prejudice and stereotype impression of it a big slap. I loved every moment of it. Next year again, perhaps? Provided I go there as a BRAT. 

I need to be bold, need to jump in the cold water

Yes, Amanda. Yes, Eu Chern.

I could have said no. I should have said no. Except I did not.

I don't know what happened, at least not in crystal clarity.

One moment I was standing stunned in front of a cluster of piano rooms from the message of the cancellation of band practice, the next moment I found myself in a darkened room full of semi-strangers on the fourth floor.

I knew vaguely I was being led. Well, I agreed to follow, whether it was on my own volition or on my subconsciousness's desire, I could not tell.

But the next hour and a half was almost torture. My squirmy self-alienation spoke volumes of my prolonged absence from the particular will-remain-unnamed activity for the past couple of months. My ass had never felt itchier.

I wanted to leave and yet I did not want to look rude, walking out in the middle of a drama going on.

And there was something painfully holding me down. An intricate and complex and inexplicable feeling.

I thought I was through with this mess. Apparently I was not.

But the incident tonight made one thing clear.

I will not be drawn anymore.

*Pulls up a pair of scissors from the drawer*

See this little devil over here?

Snip goes the heartstrings of infatuation.

Snip goes the ropes anchoring my hot heart air balloon.

Snip goes every thread linked to you.

Yes, I honestly mean it this time.

P.S. If you're not Bonono or Eu-know-who, don't ask.

Broken - Lifehouse

Beautiful lyrics. Mesmerizing voice.
Guess I don't have to waste another post on how I'm feeling right now.
The song pretty sums it all up.

[Verse]

The broken clock is a comfort

It helps me sleep tonight

Maybe it can start tomorrow

From stealing all my time

And I am here still waiting

Though I still have my doubts

I am damaged at best

Like you've already figured out

[Chorus]

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing

With a broken heart, that's still beating

In the pain, there is healing

In your name, I find meaning

So I'm holding on

I'm holding on

I'm holding on

I'm barely holding on to you

[Verse]

The broken locks were a warning

You got inside my head

I tried my best to be guarded

I'm an open book instead

And I still see your reflection

Inside of my eyes

That are looking for purpose

They're still looking for life

[Chorus]

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing

With a broken heart, that's still beating

In the pain, is there healing?

In your name, I find meaning

So I'm holding on

I'm holding on

I'm holding on

I'm barely holding on to you

[Bridge]

I'm hanging on another day

Just to see what you will throw my way

And I'm hanging on to the words you say

You said that I will be okay

[Verse]

Broken lights on the freeway

Left me here alone

I may have lost my way now

I haven't forgotten my way home

[Chorus]

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing

With a broken heart, that's still beating

In the pain, there is healing

In your name, I find meaning

So I'm holding on

I'm holding on

I'm holding on

I'm barely holding on to you