call out to me...

I have been well... sorta kinda... "promoted"...

As of last week, I report mostly to the director, not the project manager anymore. The reason is simple. Cedric, the one who used to be tied to the director, is soooooooooooooo deeply mired in software programming and back-end support, that his job of project planner had to be supplanted. And who else but me? The one who designed and applied and maintained all the progress charts and other various performance measuring graphs in fanciful colors - of course it had to be me. I mean, colorful charts is what project planning is all about!

Fuck it.

Basically means i have even LESS of a life than last time. Since the director is SUPERBLY busy during the day, it means that most of our discussions start after 7pm and end... well... usually around 10pm plus.

On the flip-side, im pretty free during the days from now on. But even that novelty won't last for sure.

I recall a dinner session with 5G1G, where cj pointed out a theory on brainwaves. Apparently cheekiang's friend had entered the restaurant and was standing above him (on a balcony on top) and looking down on him. Somehow, cheekiang knew he was there and looked up. Cj theorised that it was due to the friend sending out some freaky gay-ass brainwaves and shit.

I would like to expand on that theory, because of a revelation I had today. I theorise that even INANIMATE objects, or at least VAGUELY inanimate objects, also produce their own waves, though less gay.

Allow me to illustrate via an experience of mine.

I was on the bus going back home. And i usually pass through serangoon towards balestier. Typically i would avert my eyes from the streets and focus on my blackberry. Not much scenery out there anyway. But today something different happened. I was drawn towards a particular street. For some reason, i had an urge, an overwhelming desire to gaze down that alley, and since the bus was in a bit of a jam, i stared onwards anyway.

SUDDENLY, a figure emerged from one of the buildings. I did not know who she was, except that she had huge boobs. And that her bra size wasnt exactly tight fitting, so as she catwalked on her high heels, they... well... were set in motion. Thank god for newton.

And i realized then that the boobs were actually projecting the same kind of "brainwave" that, like kiang-kiang looking at his friend, made me look at those boobs.

I will release the white papers in about a month's time.

Hehehe...

In other words, a great fridge drama has occurred. The fridge suddenly ceased to produce cold air. Dunno why. I woke up this morning and reached into the fridge for some cold water, except the water wasnt cold. It was just vaguely cool.

First reaction - CHECK MILK.

Milk was still fresh.

DRINK MILK.

Drank milk until no more left.

SAFE! ! !!

Oh well, reported it and i guess we'll be getting a new fridge soon. GOOD. It's about time that we clean out the fridge anyway.

I have also noticed this - women are actually even messier than men when in the kitchen.

OH YEAH.

I mean, i've looked into the fridges of men and the fridges of women (i used to stay in hall remember? and my ex also stayed in hall too). Whenever I look into a man's fridge, it's VERY VERY simple - Soft drink, juice, eggs (for the instant noodles) and cold water - and at most, butter and/or a loaf of bread. The man's fridge is nearly empty and ABSURDLY clean. In the freezer, u will find NOTHING. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING - not even ice. And in the crisper - one or two apples, AT MOST.

The fridge of a WOMAN, though... ugh... lemme summarize it for u. Women go grocery shopping EVERY WEEK. But each time they do, they buy a MONTH's SUPPLY of food. You do the math. And unlike men, women cant stand having the same thing over and over and over every day. Variety is the spice of life.

Give a man a fish, and he'll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, he'll eat for a lifetime, and he'll eat it EVERY SINGLE DAY, dun care.

For a woman, one day of pasta and its done, so the leftovers are dumped in the fridge. Cycle is repeated until the fridge is congregation of fermented foods from all races, languages and religions. Kinda like Singapore - even smells like the Singapore, at least like the buses on the way back from work.

Hence, such crisis are necessary, as they make women realize just how big the fridge REALLY is. Suddenly they'll be like, "Holy shit! I had MISO here all along?!?!" "WTF!?? I had broccoli too?"

Stuff like that. You get the idea.

In other news, Ben Jelen rawks. At least for tonight. Song of the day is "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" by Smashing Pumpkins.