Y2kk Update: Hmm... well then... I've been meaning to write this very Y2kk Update of mine for the past two or three weeks... and yet no matter how much free time I had, no matter how many opportunities I gave myself, I just never could manage to sit my ass down at my keyboard and type this update out... I guess I really don't care about updating this site anymore, now do I?... for all you two readers out there...

Or maybe I just haven't written anything for the longest damn time, because I've been waiting for a message from her, waiting in wings, for the girl I talk too much about to simply say hello... I wrote an e-mail to her maybe three weeks ago. I wrote it, because I care. The last day I saw her, she was trapped with me outside of some door she was scratching and clawing to enter. I could tell she was trying to squirm her way away from me, but she just couldn't find the person with the key to get her the hell through the door and out of my existence... the door to her destiny, I suppose... I mean, she's playing the good girl, school teacher right now... But I remember what she told me that final day, and I know I wrote about it on either my download or MSN site. I had asked her if I could write to her over the summer, and she immediately said yes. I half joked that she wouldn't respond to anything that I'd write... I knew in my heart the truth though, that I wasn't joking... But she seemed so shocked at my reaction, that I didn't believe her when she instinctively said yes. Hell, she almost looked offended... I guess I have that axe effect on her... and she definitely has an effect on me... because I guess she gave me high hopes after that, that maybe she was telling the truth... that maybe she wouldn't harbour any harsh feelings against me and neglect whatever the hell I try to send her... I was hoping that we could talk. I was just hoping that we could talk...

Hope floats, and I suck. I was wrong.

I guess it doesn't mean much in the end... for all I know, maybe she's just been too busy to respond... or maybe she just doesn't check her e-mail anymore... But if the last term has proved to me anything? It's that even though I didn't drop a bloody chopstick on New Year's Eve, the fortune of cookies simply still will not smile in my direction... I mean, all I want from her is a simple reply back, and all I get instead is silence... and a bunch of spam advertisements about penis enlargements, but I digress. Austin Powers would be proud... And I've been waiting. Waiting and writhing in wings for a message, just any message, just any word from the girl who used to talk to me too much. I've waited three weeks, and still not even a hello... not even a Halo... and my, my, my... even the hourglass is forced to follow the laws of her hands... because things sure have changed from the way they used to be, and yet I don't feel any different. I don't want to feel any different... but she obviously does, one way or another... She's the most politely vindictive, vampire of a person I have ever met. I loved that about her when she was treating all the other guys with the most dignitary form of disrespect... but, well... it's just not fun when she finally applies it to no-name me, that's all...

And the bad luck just keeps piling on... or at least, the things I endlessly and senselessly whine about just keep growing and growing and growing into more of a growing pain in my ass... Because honestly, when I failed that damn Electricity course a couple of weeks ago (the day after I sent the girl I talk too much about my e-mail), all I wanted was for her to show some sign that she cared, for her to show some sign that she gave a damn about how I did... I never wrote to her how I fared, or failed to fare, or the farce I could not fix, but the simple fact that she never wrote back to ask, is proof enough for me of where she stands, for one lifetime at least... So where else could I turn for pathos than my friends? I logged onto MSN Messenger, saw some of my friends complaining that they only got about 70 or 80 in their courses, and I decided to steal the spotlight... I decided to steal the show... and without revealing that I am still able to move onto third year, I revealed to them all that I failed a course. I revealed to them all, that I had been telling the truth all along, that I did not lie, that I do not lie, that when I claimed I did badly on the Electricity final, I was not lying... Why is it so hard for anyone to accept that I'm goddam telling the truth?... A few weeks back, they had simply scoffed off my claims. They simply magically waved their hands as proof that I did perfectly fine in all my damn courses. They didn't give a single damn about how I felt, or how I felt I did. Nobody ever trusts me when I whine. I guess nobody trusts anybody when they whine... which only serves to haunt, Helen hunt, and hurt me in the end, considering I may be the only bloody person on earth who actually does tell the damn truth when I whine...

Because I failed. And I told my friends that. And you know what they did?... the same thing they always do... the same thing they do every night... they tried to take over the world... or actually, they did the next worst thing and simply shrugged me off, claiming the obvious that I should get my exam rechecked, and tried to console me that everything will be perfectly fine in the end... they acted as if fate never happened... and, um... um?... no, it won't. No, it won't be fine. Because I failed. Because I bloody hell failed... I had warned them that this could happen. I had warned them that I could get kicked out of school. I had warned them that I was telling the truth. I had warned them that I do not goddam lie...but instead of heeding my warnings, their interests in me simply waned and declined... Because I guess it's not a matter of truth or dare in the end, now is it? It's just more of a matter, of IvanF in the middle, that I was never really one of them in the first place, otherwise one of them would actually care, now wouldn't they?... and, well...

Maybe one of them did. It took a few more days of trying to play them for fools until I finally learned the truth... the truth that at least one of my friends was playing me for a fool... He knew all along that I could pass onto third year, even though I had failed a course. He just never mentioned this fact to me as I kept trying to convince him that I wouldn't be able to move on (although I never literally "lied" that I failed the year... I simply did not openly state that I had passed... so I was telling the truth, just not the whole truth... I guess it's ironic though; I was half lying to them, in hope that they would figure out that I only tell the truth, but I digress...). So when I realized that he knew the truth, I spilled the beans to him and explained that I was trying to get some sympathy out of our friends. I was trying to get some pity out of their self righteous selves. But none of them gave a damn about me. None of them ever seemed to care that I may have failed the entire year, as none of them even asked for my bloody term average (which they should've asked for if they knew that there's still a chance that I could still pass the year)... That's when this friend of mine revealed to me, that he first learned about my failure of a fling from one of those friends who I claimed didn't give a damn. I then argued that it was probably just a news thing, just like when I talk about my friends to other friends just so I could have something interesting to say... but my friend tried to shrug the disconcern off of my shoulders, and claimed that our other friend did sound like he cared about my situation over the phone... but I guess I will never know the truth, now will I? The thing is, my friend now knows the truth, that I wish that my friends, including him, would take me seriously when I'm telling the truth... though I doubt that will lead to any changes... I don't think it's change I want. Just attention. Just a sign that somebody cares. Just the hope that somebody cares.

Or just an e-mail that somebody bloody cares... but I know I'll never get one. Not from her at least... I'll write her another e-mail soon enough, but I know it will never be enough. I will never be enough... the world is not enough. Not for her, at least... and as shiver me timbers as that makes me feel, I know that that's the cold hearted, honest to God truth. And all I can really do now is move onto a different crush, like my stupid libido of a dildo always does, whether I like it or not... but truth be told, right now, I don't want to claim that I love any other girl, or any girl at all... all I care about, is the fact that she seemed like she cared about me just one year ago. And now it's all been lost, lost in cyberspace, for reasons that I can so clearly recall, and reasons that I simply could not avoid... because all that happened, was that I was being me... Over the year, she got a good glimpse just at who I was and who I am. I was hoping that she would fall in love with me... I was hoping that she'd learn to care...

I hate hope.

Y2kk Update: It's all coming back to me... and I'm not sure if I want it... I mentioned on my download site update this week that I didn't remember what happened with me and the girl I talk too much about on Monday... turns out, after I wrote that, I remembered exactly what did go down, and how I went especially limp, for missing an opportunity to be as sweet as possible and at least make her sweat for once...

I found her standing outside of her Discrete exam room, talking to a dozen or so guys all at once like she always seems to do (and never seems to notice they're all going ga-ga, galaga over her, but I digress...). I said hello, of course... she pretty much ignored me... But since I refused to run away from her again like a Forever Young kind of margarine commercial or whatever, I parked my ass pretty much beside hers and decided to wait out the storm... Eventually, all the guys hawking at her departed like the parting of the Red Sea, and like a Red Herring with a red monkey's ass, I stood by my girl as she seemed to seem especially lonely with me by her side... I kind of felt sorry for her, actually... With all her friends or suitors or whatevers gone, she just stood there awkwardly, almost like a fish out of water... I mean, she won't admit it, but she needs people... and sadly enough, the one person she seems not to want just happens to be me...

That's half of the reason why I didn't say much to her for the first five or so minutes we stood by each other's side. I didn't want to say anything wrong, and she obviously and obliquely didn't want to say anything to me but a good luck, god speed, and goodbye... I also decided to keep my mouth shut just to test a theory of mine... because you see, you two readers and I both know that simply put, I talk too much. I whine too much. I am and heaven forbid, forever shall be the no-name whiner and the no-name Reeses Pieces loser... because you see? Look what I've done to Ms. Happy Face... she was happy one moment, and frowning like peanut butter dunked in margarine the next... and I knew that if I opened my mouth, I would just end up ruining whatever peace of Reese we two had left... So I did a test. I stayed remotely silent, simply because I wanted to see whether she would try talking to me or not... and, well... she didn't... And I wanted to see whether I could be my boring self and simply be with her rather than always making the stupidest of witless jokes, because honestly, I can't keep spouting rhetoric forever without it getting old... which at least I achieved to some extent... the being my boring self part, I mean... but I was so anxious to say something, just anything to kill the silence, that I crossed my legs more times than I time ever tell, as if I had to piss real world bad or blow my wad or some sort of American Wedding, Doom crap like that... I was truly knee deep in tear jerking, dick jerking death, for being a bloody hell dick of a wad, but I digress...

That's when my friend came to the rescue... He was the one who reopened the lines of communication, by telling me our friends would be seeing a movie later that afternoon, and wanted to know if I was willing to join. Before I could say anything, the girl I talk too much about decided to finally to talk too much again, and mocked that my male friend was actually asking me out on a "date"... I started to chuckle like any whipped man would do, and she started to whistle at her own charms and humour, when my friend finally cracked a smirk himself and asked whether she wanted to join us or not... and, well... I didn't know what to say at that point... I mean, I knew it was my opportunity. All I had to ask was for her to come along with us... I even contemplated mocking her in return, by claiming she could be my date... that's all I had to ask. A movie and a coffee and copywell later on, not for romance, but simply so I could feel reassured that I'm not the bad guy in all of this... but alas... alack, as if she had pulled out of my tongue, truth be told, tongue-in-cheek, I couldn't say a thing... I dared not say a thing, as if she saw it coming and decided to pull the leash...

Hell, I could barely breathe even once before my entire opportunity was up, and before I knew it, she had declined my friend's offer because she claimed she had to study for goddam history that was four days away... and I felt like pushing and shoving her some more to move, ribbing her until she would finally agree to my terms and my bed and my hand-cuffs... but I didn't... instead, I simply nodded my head and smiled with her as if that's what I've wanted to do for my whole, damn life... she truly does know how to make me a very stoned, lackey idiot, doesn't she? Glory be to her name... and then that was it. That's all she said, and that's all she wrote. She went her way, and I went my own, slapping my silly ass of a face for not taking the chance that I knew could finally bring about change. And all it would've taken was a joke... all some closure needed was a joke... and yet I froze up... as if I was in the spotlight of some Grade 4 speech contest or some crap like that, in front of the millions and millions, for I froze up... as if she had swollen my tongue and twisted my larynx like she had done with my heart... if only her fire could've swallowed me whole and spoken to my masses in tongues, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean...

Anyhew, she wasn't the only thing that happened to me that day, surprising as that sounds... For once, I actually tried some male bonding in my life, although I'll be damned if I ever do it with a beer in brothel and a Karaoke mic in hand... My friends had invited me to a movie. I declined, mostly because I was damn pissed at myself for not dragging the girl I care about by the hair with me (if only she could club me and drag me back to her cave of non-Platonic shadows and forms... sigh... if only...)... But as I was walking with my friends to the subway, I changed my mind about one thing... They were walking to an Indian or Pakistan or whatever restaurant right now, weren't they?... Since I always end up listening to their own version of talking in tongues, I decided I might as well use my tongue to tastes their foods before the year was up... So I followed them like a sheep in, well, sheep's clothing... literally... I hate wool, especially GAP wool, but I digress... and it wasn't long until we finally reached our destination, a tiny little shop around the corner that felt more empty than my engineering campus on a Saturday, summer night...

And, well... lunch was something special, although I'm not talking about the food, and I'm not talking about the specials... We all ordered the same thing essentially... which was literally just rice with chicken and a whole lot of spices on top... The thing was, because I didn't know what they considered "spicy", they offered me the mild version of their food or whatever, which ended up tasting exactly like rice with almost nothing on it... Overall, the meal was pretty good however, except there was just one problem... and that was... um... The bowl of rice they gave me was essentially equivalent to three meals a day to me. And I tried to do the polite thing and finish off the whole damn show, I really did... but when push came to shove, I had no choice but to give up rather than throw up. All my friends had finished their works of woks or whatever it seemed hours ago, and I couldn't let myself continue chomping away when I had already lost the race and left myself out to Molson dry... and the stupid thing was, I was kicking myself over this after that massive, seven-single course meal or whatever was all said and done... because I'm somehow ashamed that as a guy, I can't eat quickly without literally choking or spewing out food... and I didn't want to give the impression that I didn't like the food, because it was perfectly fine... I would've preferred some Chinese toppings, or even a spicier sauce on top, but still... they had treated me to meal, and I wanted to show some respect... and I couldn't even finish the damn plate off... and, well... society's a contradiction at times, or at least I am... I want to be honest, but I want to be polite, and we all know being polite is not being honest... the same goes for the girl I talk too much about I guess, except her honesty ended with me months ago, so all I get are plates of her politeness... now all I get is pleasantries and half lifes of half truths, and that's what really pisses me off... all I ever want is to know the honest truth, but I'm always too damn scared to seek it out...

To be honest, I was thinking of her the entire time I was "bonding" with my friends in that Indian food restaurant. Sure, we talked about Ice Hockey this, how much Field Hockey sucks that, and how I refuse to play Cricket now that my friend had voided the pact that we had unofficially made (if he had watched the Maple Leaf NHL playoffs, which goddam only last one damn series, then I would've watch and played Cricket with them)... but every time they sunk back into their native language, cheek-in-tongue, all I could think of was her, and how much of a Richard Rice Dreyfus doofus I was for not even opening my mouth for an evening out in the town... And my mind was still on her when the store cook asked me how the mild rice had tasted, and I was ashamed when I didn't even notice he was talking to me... and I felt rude... I told him and my friends that I enjoyed the meal, and I especially thanked them for treating me to it, but every single time I tried to say something nice about the rice, something hollow came out... and it wasn't because I was lying. I was indeed telling the truth when I told the cook that the food felt right at home with me, considering I'm Chinese and I was simply eating rice... but the thing was, how could I feign happiness, when I was looped in one big reign of fire when it came to the girl I talk too much about, hailing brimstone and armageddon on my heavens and my last, LSAT nerve?

... and, well... that was it for the day. I sent myself home packing as the rest of the Rat Pack went to see a movie... I started dreaming on the train ride home of ways to bring up this movie thing of a fling with the girl I talk too much about, that maybe I could see X-men 2 or something with her, or maybe even Down to Love, if she ever feels down and cozy with me... but I know in the end I will never have to guts to initiate such things, because I didn't even have the guts to open my mouth when my friend did half the work for me... Indeed, I had parted the red sea by slaughtering all those red herrings of earring wearing, horny Wolverine-hearing guys around her... and yet I couldn't even part my lips to part a few words for her to hear for one damn minute of my life?... a window of opportunity... a shadow of dust... lost in space... lost in thought and time... for time is relative, but we all know it's come and gone... and, well... I don't know... I honestly don't think it would've made a difference, whether I had asked or not... she would've found some excuse to get out of jail free, and I would've just gone around moping that she rejected me again...

But at least, I would've known... that officially on record, I had finally asked out a girl on a date for the first time in my goddam life... even if it wasn't a date... and as pathetic as that sounds, as pathetic fallacy would have it, I don't even have that to put on my resume... under the Greek column of guts, I have an absolute, perfect zero... a perfect record for a perfect storm... because it all sounds like so much goddam fun, doesn't it?...

Y2kk Update: This is actually a semi-continuation of my download update for the weekend, where I tried telling myself a happy happy happy happy happy anniversary to myself... so allow myself to introduce myself, that I am the no-name whiner, and that nothing that I plan ever goes to plan... and that especially includes my love-life, my love sicknesses that absolutely sicken me, which is what I feel I must waste more time on here and now, as I simply cannot let it go.

I can't let any of it go. I can't let go of the fact that I can't look myself in the mirror anymore without turning away... I planned to ignore the girl I talk too much about. I planned that things simply cannot work they were they worked, with her constantly ignoring me, and with me constantly badgering her like a band-aid on stucco, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean... Do I love her? How the hell am I supposed to know? All I know is that what I feel for her is probably no different than what I felt for every other girl on my list of flings. And believe me. The girl I talk too much about definitely deserves more than that.

Or does she? You see. Out of all the girls I've ever so-called loved, it's the girl I talk too much about that I criticize far too much. I hate how she's polite. I really do. Because I don't know when she actually gives a damn of what I have to say, and when she's simply nodding her head off with a pfff, with the lotion of a notion that she can't wait to get out of the door... She ain't honest. She never has been. She admitted a lot of crap to me, I admit, but as soon as she woke up to the fact that she was telling me this stuff?... well, now she doesn't talk about anything to me, and who can blame her? She doesn't trust me, and who can blame her? Have I ever been able to trust myself?

So I chose to ignore her. After countless days of history and ignorance and hurt feelings repeating itself, I finally chose to play by her rules, shed my shelter of a skin, and simply shunned her out of the door... But of course, you two readers know me... I'm no longer capable of lying, let alone ignoring my feelings, and I'm especially incapable of ignoring the ones that I have feelings towards... and hell, the past few weeks have reminded me all too much of the 40 days and 40 nights I ignored my best friend back in Grade 4, a story I shared on my download site this week to some extent... I can only hope that a true friendship with this girl will blossom like the true friendship I have with that old school friend of mine, like blood from wine, thicker than water... except he doesn't talk to me anymore, but that's besides the point...

But the point is, it stings like a point, or a stake, or a dagger through the heart. That not only am I ignoring her, but she's now playing by my rules, on my play of her rules, by ignoring me even goddam, goddess more... On Tuesday, the day of the Electronics exam, I was sitting on the floor at the time when she walked up... she came with pretty messed up hair, but some of the most dantiful and tantalizing pants I have seen since the days of the Vanilla Sky girl... but heh... I guess it was fitting, I guess it was flirting, and I guess it was sort of ironic in the end, I guess... The girl I talk too much about started talking too much to the friend I was sitting next to at the time, and even when I said hi, she didn't bother looking down to where I was... eventually I got up and looked in her direction, after which she finally blinked her eye at me ever so slightly and motioned in my direction, barely mustering a sigh... and I could barely muster anything back, although I at least had the excuse that I was morbidly depressed over would-be failing... but what was her excuse? She was beaming and smiling and being ever so joyous and pious with all her little groping groupees on the side, and hell, even with that friend of mine I was sitting beside, just to make me extra jealous or whatever kind of crap... and yet she chose to ignore me, at exam time, when she knew I would probably be most sensitive... unless she doesn't know me at all... but I know, it's not because of that... it's not because of ignorance on her behalf... it's either because I hurt her, or because she never gave a damn about me in the first place... or maybe a combination of the two, I can only hope...

And you know what scared me? A shrill became my shrink, as it shriveled and shifted like a snake, up and down my mortal coil of a spine. Because I realized something there as the gates of hell and the Grapes of Wrath opened up to me that goddam exam room... that oddly enough, I felt the same day way at that very damn moment, as I felt when the Vanilla Sky girl, when the girl I fell in love with at very first sight, shunned me off the stage and out the door throughout our last encounter just moments before an exam... heh... all girls are alike I'm afraid, for history was repeating itself all over again, in more ways than one... with every way of course, being a part of my history that I swore I would never rekindle in my life again... I'm not shamed of my life. But I'll be damned if I have to live through it again. And because of that, I know what I have to do.

The only problem is, will she take me back?... probably not... I just want to pretend like things are the way they were meant to be... Will I badger her again? Probably. Will I depress her again? Most likely. Will I annoy her to hell? I wouldn't have it any other way... But goddammit, what choice do I have? I know those words I've said before, and I know it's such a goddam rhetorical statement, but honestly, what choice do I have? I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. She's vengeful. Women are vengeful. Most people, men and women alike, will vouch for that... I hate her. I really do at times. But I can't let myself hate myself more than I hate her, because what's the fun in that?... I need to be able to look at myself in the mirror again, and I can't do that by ignoring her like she ignores me. Two wrongs don't make a right I always used to tell that 40 Arabian Nights friend of mine, and it definitely applies to my guilt-ridden conscience in the here and now... Either way, I'm doomed. I'm knee deep in chin-jerking death. But all I know is, and all that I can believe in, is that I refuse to be the bad guy. Right or wrong, good or bad, love or obsession, it really doesn't matter. What matters to me, is that I'm being dishonest. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep up this puppet of a puppy charade long before I started it, and I can't. I'm not about the act. I never have been. I've always been about the chivalry. I've always hoped that I would be about the collective. But what I am, of what I see, is simply not who I am.

She'll probably reject me, and ignore me, and shove me out the window the first chance she gets. And I'll never be able to let it go... let go of the fact that I opened up to her to what I felt I truly was, and that she rejected me, because I wasn't the knight she wanted... All I can hope for now, is that through the pain and suffering to come, through the labour pains and Labour day tribulations with the girl I talk too much about, that she will beat out of me with an ugly stick whatever hope I have left that we can ever be together. In essence, that is my sole birthday wish. To be beaten like hell, with the sole of her shoe, where it's too cold to be hell, and where the Sun don't shine... because throughout all my study time, throughout all my SARS contemplation, I can't honestly say I only thought about her. I'm far too self-centered and IVT-centric to ever truly think about her... but... alas... alack... and ay, there lies the rub... for all I ever think about are all the wrongs I'm committing against myself, by committing against her... instead of committing to her, like I so wishfully dream I could earnestly dream someday... I feel like I'm violating her, and by doing so, I'm violating myself... and either way, I can't live this way. So either way, like the saying goes, here I go... and here comes the pain...

Or actually, the saying goes, 'happy happy happy happy happy anniversary', and a God Speed, Good Will Hunting, and a God Bless Us, Everyone... but who's counting? And what difference will it make? Nothing I ever do ever goes to plan... and God, do I ever hate birthday surprises... and yet he just keeps on giving them to me...

... best viewed in Netscape 3 (w/o javascipt on) at 800 x 600 resolution and 256 colours, because that's what I run at ...