I Wish I Were More Selfish

It's a weird wish, but I wish I were more selfish. I'm not saying that I'm the world's most compassionate person, but the pressure that the world puts on people in general these days to care is incredible.

I can't walk around without feeling guilty about something or other, and it doesn't matter how much charity work I do, I'll always feel bad for not donating money to someone who I know prefers not to get a job because he makes more money begging.

I think it just got to a point where I felt enough was enough when I flicked a red ant, watched it die and then felt incredibly sorry because it had to go through the pain and suffering that I inflicted on it.

Really, I think there should be a switch when I should be able to switch it off.

List of Dreams to Fulfil

Sometimes I feel as if life is pulling me in all directions. I'm so confused as to where I want to go. When I'm at work, I want to have a great career and have a respected opinion. When I'm diving, I want to be a Dive Master and work at a diveshop and hang out on a hammock in my spare time. I get so confused sometimes, and when that happens, lists usually help. So I'm doing a List of Dreams to Fulfil sepet-style.

List of Dreams to Fulfil:

1. Be a Dive Master
2. Work in a foreign country (ex-Australia, ex-Singapore)

To be honest, I think that's about it. Travel is a given, but that isn't really a dream since I do that quite a bit. There's also the new house, but that's also something that's actually happening. Gee, I guess life really can be that simple.

Sunglasses With Lightning Are Always Going To Be Better

So after some ridiculous neglect of my blog what with work, TechMiso (shameless plug), Twitter and all that taking up so much of my time, I'm finally posting something. This could quite possibly (with the exception of August 2008 when I was in the interiors of Sabah) be the longest non-posting period on this blog. I don't know if that's something to be proud of or worried about.

Updates on my life (but everyone who reads this knows this already):

1. I'm a Rescue Diver now, certified by PADI as of 28 June 2009. Just one certification away from Dive Master.


2. I'm moving into my own house, and am going to commence renovations as soon as a contractor gets in touch with me.


3. I'm terribly excited about moving.

I have some money in PayPal now, and all I want for my house is a Marc Johns drawing. Sunglasses With Lightning Are Always Going To Be Better is awesome, but slightly (read: a lot) out of my budget. Cutlery Is Better With Lightning would've been oh-so-perfect for my dining area but it's sold already [Insert upside-down smiley face here]. Time to step up my monitoring of Marc Johns to make sure I don't miss anything anymore.

Dear Marc Johns, please draw slightly cheaper stuff to decor my house with. I oh-so-wanted the Deluxe Carrying Case For An Ampersand but alas it wasn't to be. Sigh.

Perez Who?

So I've never liked Perez Hilton. I mean, I'm sure he's a nice person in real life and all that, but to be safer, let's say that I've never liked his public persona.

For starters, his real name is Mario Armando Lavandeira. To go with a name like Perez Hilton is a bit like, wtf? I shall call him Mario Armando. Because that's his name. Secondly, have you ever seen what he looks like? He's a fat and ugly mofo. There's no law against being a fat and ugly mofo, but there should be if you're making a living off making fun off celebrities. I don't have anything against gossip bloggers. I, myself, depend on The Superficial for my daily light reading at work, but I feel that once people start calling themselves 'celebrities' and joining reality shows with other pseudo-celebrities, that's where I draw the line. I've said all this before, and I'll definitely say it again if someone asks me.

The source of this rant is of course the ubiquitous news story about how Mario Armando was 'attacked' by Will.I.Am and his honchos. Apparently, the sequence of events went like this:

1. Will.I.Am sounded off on Mario Armando.
2. Mario Armando gets annoyed and says 'Why should I respect you? I don't respect you ... you're a fucking faggot'.
3. Skirmish.
4. Someone knocks out Mario Armando in the melee.

So, Mario Armando gets angry because he's a reporter (let's go out on a limb and call him a 'journalist') and the subject of his reporting becomes angry at, let's say 'alleged falsehoods claimed against him'. I may not actually be a journalist so I wouldn't really know, but isn't that (gee, I don't know) part and parcel of being a journalist? And then Mario Armando the genius also instead of saying "Hey, man, don't hate the playa, hate the game", goes on to say "you're a fucking faggot".

This is, to me, akin to someone bumping into me at clubs several times and then knocking over my drink. Ehem. They deserve it.

Oh, the fun continues. Mario Armando proceeds to tweet about it calling on his Twitter followers to call the police and ask them to go to his location. Yes, because the police have nothing better to do than answer hundreds of calls asking them to go save the life of a man who was punched in the face. Nope, no car accidents or emergency situations. None.

I felt a bit callous when I tweeted that it was stupid for someone to tweet about how badly they've been hurt and how they need the police rather than call the police and ambulance (since oh my god he's so badly hurt) themselves. And then, thanks to the lovely The Superficial and John Mayer, I felt validated.

Let's make this clear. This isn't a tirade against Mario Armando. I don't hate Mario Armando as a person, but I hate how he makes himself out to be a celebrity and acts in the dim limelight that casts upon him every so often.

Moving on up

So I'm thinking of moving out. I know, I've already moved out of my parents' place. The difference is that this time, I'm thinking of moving somewhere to live alone. Well, the only real reason I'm going to be living alone is because I feel that I need to move away from my sisters and there are no close friends who are moving out now so no potential housemates. I mean, it's likely that my house will serve to be a weekend house for some, but no one permanent. No, that wasn't a hint at sexual activities.

Let's run through the reasons why I feel I need to move (again). This is just as much to sort through my thoughts as much as anything else, because I always feel a bit more organised and sure of myself when I list out reasons for doing things:

1. I can have my cats with me. The apartment my sisters and I are supposed to be moving to is owned by my parents and they refuse to let me bring my cats, regardless of my reasoning or begging.
2. I will have less frustration over irreconcilable differences with my sisters. I love them, but we each have little idiosyncracies that don't sit well with the others. They're small enough that it would seem silly to make a big deal of it, but after living with it for a while it builds up. You know?
3. I want to have a permanent place to hang my hat. Somewhere I can make cosy and really call my home. A place that I can make my own in my own style suited to the taste of my comforts.
4. I won't have to worry about rent, or moving out once the tenancy agreement is expired, or unnecessary wastage of electricity, or other things along those lines.
5. I can have as much alone time as I need.

There. That's sorted. Tomorrow, I break the news to dad because mum's away in Russia for a week or so. I've told no one in my family, so I hope my dad is as supportive as I need him to be.