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sherlene_heng
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Name: Sherlene
Country: Australia
Metro: Perth
Birthday: 5/13/1985
Gender: Female
Interests: law/comm graduate. travel junkie. stewardess wannabe. whacked. perpetual eater. music obsessor. everything obsessor. shuai ge appreciator. professional whinger. hopeless procrastinator. vicious cycle swinger. melancholy muser. realistic optimist. trust fearer. bargain hunter. fanatical ebayer. imagination overloader. perpetual freeloader. predisposed judger. shallow criticiser. 50 year old in disguise(r). rationalising stammering fool. secret attention craver and vainpok. contentment seeker. wisdom devourer. sleep addict. omniscience hunter. theory creator. mercenery hoarder. celebration shunner. people lover. people hater. hermit admirer. bald animal lover. conversational constipation. mirror fearer. cockroach laugh-er. pet mouse killer. starving poet wannabe. randomness purveyor. fantastic driver. camwhore.
Expertise: Being a Kaypoh. (Also: Being Misunderstood as Being a Kaypoh)
Message: message meEmail: email me
MSN: sherlene_heng@hotmail.com
Member Since:
8/15/2004
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| My mom and I spent all Thursday night carting boxes out of my place...and into my mom's place...
How absolutely CRAZY is it that a whole 6 months has passed since May and now I'm back at my parents'! I can't just scoot over here for dinner anymore, and when I'm tired of them, drive back home... I can't have whoever I want over whenever I want, or leave everything lying around for days, or walk around half dressed cooking Shin Ramyun and dancing to Pitbull, or pee with the door wide open... ... ... (well I could but it would be highly embarrassing when Rob and all of Shermaine's other friends decide to suddenly appear at my place!)
I slept over here yesterday and I swear it was so weird to be around people all the time. My family isn't even that bad; no one is really home much what with working odd hours (my mom has appointments all the time and my dad works til about 1am) and weird going out hours (like Shermaine going to uni at 1am...)...but it's just...not the same...!
Shermaine and I share a wardrobe and OMG I cannot stand it I am definitely swapping rooms with her ASAP! I swear at least three times yesterday someone walked into my room while I was asleep and it was crazy disconcerting - that just Does Not Happen when you live by yourself or if it does you quickly scream very loudly, hope to hell your neighbours hear you, and dial 000!
Today it's not even like I have a choice; the place is rented out for real!
Not that I'm complaining with the rent I'm pulling - at $350 a week I figure it won't be long before I can actually buy my Chanel without being broke! There's actually a washing machine here so I don't have to lug stuff around, and I can just walk downstairs to get food instead of driving down the street to the supermarket coz my cupboards are so empty!
Still, I'm gonna miss my place - it was great while it lasted!
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| (I think I spelt that wrong...)
You know what I realised yesterday; it's nice to be part of a 'community' - like a group of people that you identify with for various attributes e.g.
I drive a Smart and everytime I see another Smart we beep our horns at each other or smile and wave, or I used to get 'join our Smart club' flyers tucked under my windscreen! It's nice! We went for a Smart drive day once!
Or like yesterday I was a zombie (with Dave and Brett) and everywhere we went in the City and each time we saw another zombie we felt this kinship at being part of a community that lurched across roads and muttered 'brrrrrrraaaaaaiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnssssssss' at unassuming strangers. It was nice!
Or you know you're Asian and then random Asian people try to speak to you in random Asian languages when they see you on the bus or on the street.
Although not so much the last one. That's more Adam Loh.
(That usually freaks me out because my Chinese is so bad)
Is this why people join churches, dance classes, Alcoholics Anonymous, book clubs, yada yada? Oh what a feeling; community. Ah, lame.
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| Someone I know passed away over the weekend.
He'd been dealing with kidney issues for what was it, 8 years, and then he finally got a transplant, and then he didn't make it. That sucks.
I didn't know him very well; we never had a chat or anything except in passing, but he was undoubtedly a part of my life over the last 7 or so years since I first met him. You never really think about how long you've known a person, but he was always somewhere around; I used to see him at Metros (!), we did the Prodigal Son dance rehearsals for weeks, you know like he was just a decent guy, laid back, easygoing, nice guy...
It's sad you know? Like at the funeral this afternoon, everyone seemed to be crying. People you don't expect to ever see crying; the people who I've compartmentalized in my little brain as 'non-criers' were crying. People giving speeches were crying. And as much as the ceremony was supposed to celebrate his life and not be sad and depressing, somehow everything was sad; the slideshows were sad, having a coffin in the room was sad, even the fact that there were pallbearers walking around was sad.
Garr, I'm not really in tune with this emotion of sadness. I just get awkward and uncomfortable. People crying seriously disconcerts me. I don't know what it is; it's easy for me to deal with anger and annoyance and happiness and all that, but sadness is I guess, not something I've been exposed to a lot. Crying to me is embarrassing (ok well I cried at Up and that was actually probably embarrassing in itself and not because of the crying), it's weird, it's like a foreign emotion. Other people crying just makes me want to cover my ears and run around in circles or hide under something.
Justina and I kind of sidestepped the condolence line; I suppose a part of being an 'adult' is being mature enough to handle these things and the suckiness of life and probably escaping sadness by literally and physically avoiding it is not a good sign of growing up, but...even so...
Double garr.
Anyway, this post isn't supposed to discuss my oddity, but it's hard not to relate things back to yourself.
We'll miss you, Lionel Kobelke.
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| Memories are a funny thing.
It's been just over a month and I seem to have lost my grip on what I remember and what I just imagined really happened.
When you're sitting across from a cop who albeit he says his purpose is to 'help you' I always feel like I'm under attack. Like I can't really trust him in case he uses everything I say against me. And I'm not even the accused; I'm on the right side for once! You got to feel sorry for the ones who've actually been charged sometimes...
So in the intervening period I can't trust my memories. I can't decide if I've made up what I've seen in the last x days, or if I actually saw it. I can't make out faces or features, I can't even say if the guy had long hair or a ponytail... I can't decide for sure (well I definitely can't swear on my life) whether he was being dragged forward or backward or sideways or standing or sitting or leaning or lying. I don't think I saw his fist actually hit his face, or the moment of that impact. The worst thing is this exchange:
"So which side of his face was injured?"
"The left. My left"
"Are you sure about that?"
"Um, yeah? Like his right. My left. Right. Left"
"Are you certain it was his left?"
"OMG is that wrong? I should know it! Right? Left?"
"Ok I'm just going to put down that one of his eyes was injured"
It turns out I was in fact correct the first time! It seems like it's so easy to put doubt in one's mind when you're not really 100% sure and you don't have backup evidence with you to corroborate the fact. WHY WAS THERE NO VIDEO! And how could I stuff up such an easy question! I knew it! And then I didn't!
Imagine me on a witness stand:
"Are you sure he was punched?"
"Yes"
"Were you with him the whole time?"
"Um, yes?"
"Did you look away?"
"Well... there were moments when I was trying to get the bouncer to let him go where I wasn't actually looking at him I suppose"
"Is it possible in that time he could have punched himself?"
"No"
"How do you know?"
"Um, I just do"
"So it's possible?"
"Welllllllll, I suppose so?"
"Your Honour, I conclude that the victim in fact punched himself and then walked into a pole. There was no corroborative evidence to suggest otherwise"
LAW SUCKS! I hate the scum that is my profession! SCUM!
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| I'm sitting here waiting for Ken to finish work so that I can drag his ass to more art galleries (muahaha) and I have realised, you know what? I am becoming more of a shit stirrer. And I LIKE it!
I like bringing up things that you didn't think I knew that you said about me behind my back and drop it into conversation and say... SO WHAT DID YOU THINK ABOUT THAT HUH.
I like purposely looking for people who are avoiding me. (as opposed to avoiding people as I have on MANY occasions in the past)
I like bringing up confrontational and uncomfortable - squirm - inducing topics.
But it's all underlaid by the old super passive-aggressiveness; you should hear me when I'm ranting about certain people to Ken. Or to other people. Muahaha.
I don't know. I'm becoming better at the bluntness required by shit stirring. I used to be a lot more 'don't rock the boat', more passive aggressive.
I think tis a good thing, don't you?
Or not...
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