The title to this post.
That's supposed to be the sound of the heart-rate monitor machine screen thingy that's inhabits hospitals.
And that's supposed to indicate that I'm alive.
Well, you could debate that statement - I'm alive - from a philosophical standpoint.
But yes. Biologically not dead.
I keep meaning to blog here, but am eternally distracted. Apologies for the long lapse in entries!
I am exhausted now, though, and have already spent more time than I should on the computer.
Maybe a quick round up.
* Saying that I do not like my current form of wage slavery might just be ever so slightly an understatement. Woe is me.
* I kind of planned a holiday to Japan hoping to take advantage of a cheap ticket deal and a coincidence with a newly-discovered and already-rather-loved band's tour. Only to be dashed to smithereens by youtubing their live performances. It turns out Mr Sexy Vocals on Record can't carry a tune live to stop a meteor carrying deranged and vengeful alien dinosaurs from colliding with planet earth. I checked a few videos as a means of grasping at straws, but alas, all of them nearly extracted tears from my ducts and had me jamming the 'x' button of my browser. Damn him. Oh, and there's swine flu as well.
* Leading on from that, swine flu has flown to the sunny shores of spore. But the health ministry seems determined to let us all succumb to it by refusing to raise the pandemic alert level. When the whole thing first broke out in Mexico, they went nuts and jammed the alert all the way up to red (only one away from black(=black death??)) and then once they decided they were over-reacting, they don't seem to want to react anymore. Pah.
* Ayabie's Major Label debut single stinks. Commercial unimaginative junk. And I forked out good money for that. Talk about regression and selling out. Woe is me.
* Exit policy considerations are complicated and seem to wither in my mind through a process of self-mortification and doubt. Woe is me.
As you can probably tell, I have been in a considerably more than slightly disagreeable mood of late. I think the direction of the wind will change and it will be etched on my countenance for all eternity.
Sigh.
Oh well.
Bright sparks:
☆ Indulging my not so inner-geek and catching the
Distant Worlds: Music from Final Fantasy concert here. Music from the Role-Playing video game series rearranged for an orchestra. Such joy and nostalgia. Where's that 16 year-old me now? Hmmm. The composer was there, and he was one hell of a character. xD Got his autograph. Whoo!
☆ My 'glittery cheese' arrived! Hoorah! Can't await to play around and where them! Have coordinated some of them in my mind for tomorrow. Yay for bright colourful accessories!
☆ Catching
Dancing On Your Grave by the Cholmondeleys and the Featherstonehaughs. Macabre humour and inappropriate morbidity abound-ed (what's the past-tense of 'abound'? Does it exist? What? Huh? I no-no speeek Eengland) Five performers as corpses, singing, dancing, strumming, miming. All contained on a little red stage smaller than my toilet. A real treat. I have to admit that I went alone, though. I bought my ticket on a last-minute-ish kind of spur and couldn't really think of anyone to go along with me. But let's not go down that avenue, shall we? Not now.
The chorus of the last number:
"Everyday's a holiday, a holiday from death"Hoo yeah.
Oh, and I just had to include a photo. Because I love my posts with pictures. Sunset from the Esplanade roof.
