Screw you, 2008.

Two days to go.

I've spent most of my so-called Christmas break alternating between two extremes: overdosing on the Christmas merriment that includes non-stop family affairs and parties as well as staying in bed reflecting on the year that was and the year its going to be.

And while almost everyone goes back to work tomorrow, I still have a whole week of absolutely NO WORK to go, nyeh nyeh. And what have I been doing? Cleaning the clutter - both literally and figuratively. I can't believe I still have eye shadow from circa 1998. Chinese New Year cards from two years back and clubbing receipts that tell of nights filled with overpriced beer. It felt so good to throw them all out. And I've made my decision to keep toxic people out of my life. Never mind toxic; even people who irritate me the slightest with their mere existence. I can't do the layan thing anymore. If I don't feel like oohing and aahing at your boring stories, I won't. And best of all - I'm not even going to feel bad about it.

I don't know what 2009 will bring. In fact, I don't even care. All I know is that -blessings aside- 2008 was a shit year. It will remained etched in my memory forever as a shit year. Filled with shitty people, shitty situations and shitty outcomes. But I must take responsibility for my actions and after boo-hooing all year, all I can do is hope I've learned a thing or two (fat chance, knowing me...). I DO intend to take more chances. Step outside my comfort zone and have more 'Oh alright, what the heck' moments. Seize the fcukin day.

And I'm gonna do it with style.

Frenzy.

Give me some time to gather my thoughts amidst the frenzy of the Yuletide season. Between shopping, wrapping gifts, organising family reunions and even a futsal game or two in betweeen, I am also pulling myself together. It's a lot of work.

This is either the calm before the storm. Or the calm after the storm. I have yet to decide. The end of the year makes you do crazy things and it's also the time we tend to entertain crazy thoughts. So I am going to sit still.

Very, very still.

Done.

Sometimes there is nothing more to be said and done.

And that is the hardest part about moving on.

Four freakin' thirty.

It's 4:30am and I can't sleep. My flu meds don't seem to be doing what they're supposed to do. So here I am, eating a chicken sandwich and logging on to see who else might be online. No such luck.

So what do you blog about at this ungodly hour? Beats me. I'm usually in la-la land dreaming of talking cats at this point. Moments like these remind you that despite being surrounded by people all the time and living in a planet with more than 6 billion inhabitants - We are completely alone. And if you aren't, you will be. No one sticks around forever. Death and circumstance ensure this. You'll be 'friends forever' until someone moves away, gets a new job, finds a husband, starts breeding, changes principles...You get the pic. Your siblings will eventually start their own lives. Your children will grow up and move on. Your spouse will divorce you or, eventually, meet the Maker.

Why do we bother with forming relationships? Because humanity thrives on hope and living the 'meaningful' life. Because we think our short time on this earth should be filled with accomplishments and finding the 'One'. When in truth all that becomes of us is that we return to dust and we become mere memories.

So yes, I believe now we are actually completely alone. It doesn't mean we have to be lonely. Hence, friends, family and lovers. But they all pass. We pass. So don't fret too much about what happens or who comes and goes in our lives - Nothing is forever. It's just a ride and eventually the wheels will stop turning.

I could use some sleep.

Finally.

It's been a long time coming but I'm finally sick. I have been waiting and waiting to get doggone sick and, yep, here I am.

I'm about to get a knockout flu and I can feel my head pounding. My throat feels like someone's been dragging a durian through it and my eyes keep tearing up. I don't know how to explain it but I am glad to be sick. Now I really have a reason to crawl into a hole, pass out and ignore the world.

Because "I'm sick, go away" is more acceptable than "Just leave me alone." No?

I'm gonna go wallow in my fluey disposition now.

News that screams, "Melissa, get off your lazy ass and write already."

Don't know if you guys read the news recently but a 9-year old boy has just published a book on (I kid you not) "How To Talk To Girls."

Figures: It takes a 9-year-old to tell grown men how to behave around women. Pfft.

Colorado native Alec Greven's book started as a creative writing project which found its way to a school book fair where his 'pamphlet' became a surprise hit (selling at USD5 per copy no less!). Long story short, boy creates hoo-haa, HarperCollins goes "Golly gee whitakers, let's give this boy 46-pages and a hardcover and BAM! he's a full-fledged published writer!"

WTF. His advice includes, stop showing off, go easy on the compliments and be wary of pretty girls. "It is easy to spot pretty girls because they have big earrings, fancy dresses and all the jewellery," says chapter three of his book. He's just described Dennis Rodman but I'll let that slip.

"Pretty girls are like cars that need a lot of oil." - in a few years, he's about to find out just how important lubricant really is.

And he also says, "The best choice for most boys is a regular girl. Remember, some pretty girls are coldhearted when it comes to boys. Don't let them get to you."

Okay, A) What constitutes a regular girl? and B) Some ugly girls are coldhearted too (talk about a bad deal). Good thing he's 9 and whatever comes out of his mouth is still cute.

Still, here's a kid who has spent a measly 9 years on this planet and has probably never heard of Vanilla Ice (that might be a good thing, actually) nor can he imagine a world before handphones and e-mail...But say what you want about him: He's got a damn book under his belt. That's one hell of a feather in his baseball cap.

Yes, this is another whiny entry so stop reading if you're looking for something happy.

I apologise.

If you have been reading my blog and I've somehow sucked you into my vortex of Eeyore-ness (read: showered you with my negative vibes), I apologise. I've been reading my entries over the past year and, yes, I know it hasn't been pleasant reading material.

Some entries are self-suffering. Others so full of resentment. A few that are borderline pathetic, if I say so myself. My blog has become my voice - my whiny, oh-woe-is-me voice. And you might be surprised but I hate it. I hate what I've become because I know what I can really be - And it's not THIS.

So please, don't think that I am enjoying myself here with all the drama. An old flame (more like a forgettable spark) loved telling what a drama queen I was. How much I relished - and thrived!- on a roller coaster life. That switching from calm and controlled to emotional and unmanageable (what am I, tangled hair?) kept my days 'colourful'. And that word, oh that one word that just gets to me to this day: VOLATILE. "I dunno why you're so volatile, babe," he'd say. Maybe cuz you call me 'Babe' *slap slap*

Contrary to popular belief, no, I don't enjoy the drama. I want a nice, happy, shiny life just as much as the next delusional person. And I do try. You know that whole saying about life handing you lemons, and then you make lemonade? Screw the lemonade. I'm the kinda person who would bake a fckuing lemon meringue pie given the choice. But this year, I couldn't get past squeezing the lemons because my hands were covered with paper cuts. (Plus, I suck at baking anyway).

So yes, Mel isn't so happy and shiny right now. But on the flip side, seeing everyone words of encouragement on my message board has made me realise what fantastic people still exist out there. People who do give a rat's ass about me. Even when I'm being a rat's ass :)

Don't get me wrong though: I'm not sorry - for I cannot be sorry for being who I am or for how I feel. But I apologise all the same.