just minishorts.

Is that the norm over here?

Caleb pointed it out to me and it, well, it didn't actually get me thinking because I HAVE been thinking about it for a while. Obviously that scenario is coming into the picture on quite a recurring basis these days, but being blog-izens (shit that's a corny namesake, but bear with me please), it's just something that we have to handle.

I'm a proud blog-izen because I've been here for a while and I've been through several phases. I've been through that traffic-whoring stage, and I've been through that blog-hating stage. Maybe even now I'm going through that stage as well… i.e. I decide to blog-surf one day (no, I don't blog-surf, yes I said that already, so don't beg me for link-exchanges because if you're good I'll just plug you in without invites), and I come to a horribly badly written page…

And I decide that I do not like it.

I realize that badly written blog belongs to some holier-than-thou blogger who's eagerly traffic-pinching, and 'proud of it'…

And I tell myself I do not want to visit it again because it makes me want to puke.

But yes, I'll admit it. I find myself going back to it day after day. And inducing myself into more disgusted reaction. Somehow, in a morbid sense, I'm drawn to it. But you see what I do, to distinguish the 'likes' from the 'dislikes'.

I leave the person alone.

I have something to say to that person.

I say it in another way.

I have something against that person.

I ignore that person, and rephrase my sentences. But I don't leave messages. I don't try my best not to spread badfire.

Well. I just realized that sometimes I do, spread badfire that is. My bad. But it is usually unintentional.

You see, sometimes of course, we bloggers do meet up. I have a group of friends who blog together, tsk tsk, very different from BLOG-CLIQUEs. I told Caleb that I'm a lone-ranger, very different from what the rest of the blogosphere thinks. At my mamak sessions, usually April-girl and Nick-korkor are regular kakis. Occasionally, I let out news as to where my whereabouts will be for that night, and a stranger, or two, or three, turn up to join in the bitch-fest, and hey, there you have it, a bunch of people who all do not like the same person. And badfire is started. And spreads. We bitch and rant about idiotic bloggers who make fools out of themselves and boasting about how popular they are, what moves they're going to take to increase traffic, and….the lowest of them all, kicking another blogger into silence.

Now I understand that somewhere along the way, I might have done that. If you think I have offended you in anyway or another, please know that it is not my intention to silence you. I have not mentioned names. If you choose to obliterate yourself, from a forum, from a meet, from the blogspace even, don't blame me. The Net is like an open 'speakers' corner', albeit an uncontrolled one. Freedom of speech is rampant, no no, that's not so good a word here, freedom of speech is seldom exercised with care. And that's not entirely a bad thing, because blogging actually builds character.

What kind of character are you to disappear just because someone as insignificant as minishorts feels strongly against you?

Since I'm already here, I might as well spill my other thoughts, yeah. You know that awards thing that attracted 23 comments on some other site (I'm not going to plug it because it's not exactly something I like, but yes, I have plugged it before). Snide remarks aside (yes there's a horridly long and sniding comment in that side, and it looks quite hilarious), the question that popped to my mind when I read that list of winners was: not another one?

I don't see the point. Why is there a list of revelled bloggers? You don't need awards to help people learn about gems out there in the big big market. This is one. This is another. This is another. And another. You read them? Look, they don't have the long lists of fans that Jeff welcomes, but they are good, and that alone demands respect.

I don't see another point. So I was most kesian blogger, a title conferred to 'test my reaction'. OK. You've got my reaction. And then? What good does it do you?

Never mind. There are another two who were given not-so-sympathetic titles. Which resulted in the horridly slandering comment. I don't blame the commentor. Someone calls you the 'most pathetic for hits blogger', and you keep quiet? Now that someone who decided to run his own awards ceremony, the question is… what's the whole point of the ceremony?

So strange. So pointless. But you got our attention all right. And then. Silence.

I don't see another post from that guy. So sad. I was seriously looking forward to reading more. Maybe later, I might want to link that guy. No exchange required.

I don't have a bad temper dudes. I just lapse into moments. When I blog, boy, I really blog. It's not for reading. Hell, if my blogs were for reading they wouldn't be so very long. But today, I went over to Caleb's site, and found another entry that triggered this long post.

Thanks for reading this far.

At the end of the day, the purpose of this blog was to tell you… actually, to tell myself, what happened today.

Eric came during lunch and whisked me to one of those very dirty Chinese-hawker styled restaurants, where we enjoyed a scrumptious meal of char kuey teow and pan mee.

Later, when I got home, Mum and me went to The Curve where I blew another 138 bucks on two pwetty tops from Phillipine-based Kamiseta. Very nice brand, ladies. I like the colours and their cuts. Oh, and if you buy their clothes you get to go home with a very nice bag with Natalie Portman in a tight-green-T.

I seem to have settled down into this lifestyle… being a freelancer is like this, when hectic moments come, I don't even have the time to sleep, but when it's low season, here I am… waking up at 11 am in the morning, and strutting around the house trying to complete some chores. I could actually get used to this, if only the peak seasons weren't so tiring. Last week was a nightmare. The stress was so incredibly tense that I unleashed a side of me that had never seen the living daylights before. Obviously that carthatic release was quite uninvited, and I don't hope to be like that again.

Actually I do have thoughts today. I like beating about the bush, if you don't mind… I just didn't want weird people to start saying weird things… so the above was just a prelude. Or a distraction to get you tired of reading.

A friend, M, told me about his first love today.

'She just sent me an SMS telling me she just got married, asked me for my address, and one week later she sent me the wedding pictures.'

I asked him were they in touch after the break?

'Once in a while. Via SMS.'

I asked him who initiated the split.

'That was my fault. I stupidly encouraged her to go meet her ex-bf, because I could see she was still thinking about him. Thought I could get him out of the way. but plan backfired.'

Ouch.

It wasn't a coincidence that today minishorts was bugging an ex asking him how he was today. But listening to M talk, I started thinking about my first ex, too. Yay, he of the returned-book-in-torn-state fame. But talking about sending wedding photos to the ex.

The truth is, I've always wondered whether I'll want to do it. The sending of photos gesture that is. So I told M, 'But i do wonder whether i will want to send photos of me and my husband-to-be when i get married back to my first ex…'

M said, 'You can if you want to get back at it. It works, trust me.'

Yes I do did wonder. Maybe I still do.

Why do we women have this incontrollable urge to want to get back in whatever way possible?

I don't really give a damn anymore, but deep inside I know I'll feel damn good if I eventually do walk down the aisle with someone who really loves me and who I really love in return, and accompanying that is the feeling of, 'HAH… you lost this babe…' when I send my wedding pics to the first person, the guy who decided I was a hot piece of metal too disgusting to keep.

It's not that I want him back. It's just 'getting even'.

So petty. So stupid. So idiotic. So… female. At yet you get that urge of wanting to do it.

But you know I won't to it. I'm just admitting it here. Yes I do want to do it. But it's silly. And that person just doesn't deserve the privilege of being hurt by me even. Because it doesn't matter anymore.

Well… 3 years down the road (when my bio-clock starts ringing and I start to bug someone to marry me), we'll talk about this dilemma again.