The Sadako Project

Today was the day I decided to take down the long, tired locks of my hair. Even though some people would envy the volume of it all (which is more than what a calculator can calculate), they don't understand the sheer amount of weight it carries. Not so heavy that you don't see anything beneath eye-level, but still, you can feel the heat it traps. Frustrating.

Hence my trip down with my mom to cut hair. The woman who washed my hair took her chance to dig all her nails into my scalp. I figured it cleaned her nails more than it did my scalp. Practically scratched everything off, cells included. Extra clean. >.> The other woman who declared my hair too messy to see any style said that it should be blown dry first before she could give her 'professional opinion'.

Then began the Sadako project. My hair, fringe and in all its entirety was blowned with high heat straight down, such that it looked like Sadako perched atop the salon seat getting her hair done. With the cape thing hanging down my shoulders, it looked more ambigious.

That said, I basked in the glory of anonymity, and stared boldly at everyone else in the salon. Naturally, people seeking the pit-fire of death were staring without holding back. Should I be the original Sadako, a curse would have been put in place. Meanwhile, that woman commented relentlessly that I have too much hair and how nice it would be to have it soft-permed. I smiled and looked as if she was talking about some stinking octopus she ate. She gave it up after I repeatedly gave her the 'I pity your octopus' face.

The cut was alright, in the end. The styling was not. She gave her version of what was hot, and it turned out all wrong. But for her sake, and for letting me enjoy Sadako moments earlier, I let her flatten my fringe and turn it into the slick and shiny gel soaked indian hair. Pleased and gleefully, she seeked for feedback, "Is it nice? You like it?" The beginnings of a pained look was showing, so I switched it to a more DELIGHTED look. "Hmm, it's not bad."

I'm not a liar by nature, but there exists the White Lie, ain't there? While waiting for my mom (who ditched me halfway) to pay for the cut, I hid somewhere near the entrance, where the receptionist gave me constant steely looks. I tried looking elsewhere, combing it here and there, but she put too much spray and wax.

Immediately after leaving that salon, I went into the toilet to fix the mess, which to my relief, was fixable. It looks funky now. :)

Addendum: My stomach hurts. Bad. Bitch.

Hazy, Woozy Vision

Do you smoke?

I don't.

Many others do.

Why?

I can never decipher this one. It seemed that when I was a young kid with a mentality no more mature than a papaya, the message drilled in was that youths smoke because it's 'Cool', 'which is a misconception', says my primary school. 'And you MUST NOT smoke BECAUSE IT'S NOT COOL'. But what do we know anyway? Not everyday we get offers to have a cig, and think about it, it's expensive to offer one anyway. Those things cost 5-10 bucks? And get maybe 12 sticks in a box; it's an expensive lifestyle.

Now, I dislike smoke, despise people who do, but am trying to look at it from an objective point of view. When one doesn't know nuts from pineapples, one should open their mouth and ask. So I did. What better way than to ask those at my workplace where I do my internship at?

I asked my colleague on MSN, and she smokes (to my surprise), why she smokes. Her reply was that it relieves stress. Really? So it invades your lungs, makes it black and tar-like and retards your brains, yellows your teeth and nails, maybe kill you faster than you wish to die and this relieves stress? (MY lungs told me not to say this out loud.)

I can think of ways to accomplish the same effect; namely chipping blocks of cement off the nearest street and blend it with sand to make a cocktail, while sitting on the floor, saying 'DUH' repeatedly and paint your nails yellow and not brush your teeth for a month.

"Too tedious."

Maybe.

So I got many other opinions from my classmates, like smoking actually helps keep your weight off. Via disintegrating every part of your body internally so whatever weight you put on is actually extra effort, and the body can't be bothered to do that anymore.

Or like it 'keeps you warm when the weather is cold'. ... OK, so Koreans smoke, Chinese in China smoke during Winter 'to keep warm', but Malaysians? Bask in the joy of roasting under the harsh sun?

"Um, Colleague's name, does smoking make you feel warmer?"

"No difference to me."

Counting the number of people I've met and NOT smoke is actually difficult. In school, they DO NOT ALLOW IT and all, but soon as the kids pop outta school, you see something else in their hand. Of course, I would be absolutely fine with that if it is all internal and all. Like the smoke just invades the smoker's lungs and wherever. It's fine by me to see people randomly dropping in the streets, so long as they don't litter the place with too many corpses at a go.

Smoke however lingers in the air and make you feel vomity and extra warm. (It does come from a lighted end, and fellow readers, forget not that smoke comes from fire afterall) So in the already humid weather of Singapore, more heat just makes me want to punch the living daylights and possible night out of these smokers. It frustrates me. Understatement. Plus, what's the deal about second-hand smoke killing others faster than the one who does the dirty deed? Wanna die, go ahead, but I want to live, thank you very much.


The curious thing I noticed is that smokers tend to like people who are 'like them' much faster than those who don't smoke. It seems like there is some mysterious connection, or something actually happens when two smokers go off to smoke. My guess is that they get more chances to talk and 'relieve stress' together. That's 'important for business partners' and to get 'more media connections'. The way they behave is as if smoking is on another elite plane of existance altogether. Immediately they give each other knowing grins and dissapear together. You don't see non-smokers give each other knowing grins and go off to 'not smoke' together, do you?

Of course, all smokers will probably say 'Oh, I know smoking is bad, I don't encourage it.' But then why act as if it's an elite activity? The world knows smoking is a 'Sin', and they indulge in the fact that their next neighbour is also a 'sinner' like themselves? I don't even need to look at it from a religious point of view, but I hardly see murderers taking pride that their cellmate is a fellow murderer.

Nevermind that. In fashion, smoking is considered beautiful art (stereotypically). Presumably the unpredictable shape of smoke makes it beautiful. Maybe.



Now if only it doesn't kill people.

Oh no, not another blog again..

Perhaps it's the Gemini character trait or something, but everytime I make a resolution to create a decent blog to actually blog about something related to myself, it turns out to be a rather flailed effort; I either get bored after a while, or turn it into a blog for something else. Blogging is no new thing to me. Problem is, I have too many. One for each different topic, one can wonder how burn-out can not happen.

I've decided to put in more than my usual miniscule effort to be a better blogger. AKA: Type properly, coherently, legibly, and make sense, and be interesting. I figure if it turns out right, I'll be able to improve something in the linguistic sense.

Visions visions, but those are just visions. Let's see if this works out. :)