for dada

some people just laugh. you don't even have to do much or say much to make them laugh. dada is one such. and i just latch on to his obsessive-laughing-disorder to find myself a funny girl. how reassuring. like take for example today. we chatted online. apparently both of us find ourselves wonderfully available to the rest of the world-- AT work. thts WHEN, and NOT where, we do all our socializing. i havent figured out if we are actually friendly ppl. when in a crisis, that is when all others have disappeared, and its only between me and the other-side-of-me left, thats when i try to think of current-affairs to talk about. believe you me (btw, what exactly does this phrase mean?) i know nothing about the world except in a general sort of way. its like one of those companies, say Microsoft, you know Bill Gates runs it, like the million other companies he does (he does rite?), but you dont know much about those others. so coming back to my social skills. i think i suck. but what is worse, sometimes i am masterly deceptive and give people the wrong impression. like i had fun talking or something. like that ever-so-polite way of leaving: "hey nice talking to you". cuhmon now, u know better
but coming bak to dada, it is rather nice talking to him. refreshing. we mostly talk about girls in his life. precisely, girls NOT in his life. that can just start about from anywhere, eh? Angelina Jolie or one of those hot women i just dont get it? but more realistically, girls who perch on his cushy pedestal for awhile and all of a sudden flock away with the rest. like its twilight zone or something, and time to return to their nest with someone else. he's perpetually stuck in the other-man crisis. but this other-man is more of a "u r like a brother to me". seriously girls, do u wana "thank" him or not? what kinda dumbass compliment is that? *sigh* wat can i say dada, girls just dont know what to do with the shoulder, AFTER they have warmly watered it. please girls, u need to 'dig' and 'nurture' it too. dont just cry and blow your nose upon it, and leave like some bed-wetter! seriously.
he called up ma yesterday. thats like the Iraq war ended, finally. and ma is ahead of all of us. she wants him to marry. but she forgets, where's the raw material? so she had this girl, her student, with the same initials NG, email me and add ME on Orkut. (why me?) and apparently she looks a fairer version of dada's ex. ok ma. grow up. do u really think thats the best idea? its like one of those movies where the drunk hero has sex with a woman he mistakes as his wife, under the blurring effects of alcohol. i dont know what ma's thinking. but it just feels wrong. i mean seriously, wht wud his friends tell him--you married a look alike of your ex? thats like marrying your ex, isn't it?
anyway.
my life. for one, today there was orange water in the bathroom. thot of calling the plumbers. refrained. the last time i had them over, it was like a reunion between them. 4 of them together in the bathroom, at the same time. yeah, i know! but perhaps not. but nevertheless, i was pretty pissed off that day. i had offered them cookies. good ones. and they refused. huh? that happens? apparently it does. and so i completely lost all respect for them.
so there, the orange water becoming tangerine now.
i have to write a response paper. this philosophy class i take. its a fun class. u just need to be deep in thot, so deep that ideally none should bother you, rite? wrong. we have to write response papers everyday. i mean EVERYDAY? i cant understand why? i suppose it takes tens of years for the philosophers to think and then write that out. what does it say to them if we make sense out of it in a day, and even write a response! thats just depressing. for the both of us. but thats just about it. i have now exactly thirty more minutes to be philosophical and write a paper. thats how screwed up we are!