Change of Topics

Alright, so here we are, me not blogging as much, for no excuse at all but laziness on my side, preoccupying myself with senseless things more often than sensible ones. Closing in on the 9th month of unemployment does wonders to the brain! Nevermind the fact that I have to entertain four other characters in my head (yes Moogle isn’t the only one), my being a social person (online and off) does little justice to what’s truly in my head!

True, I make people laugh, the ones who are into my kind of humor anyway, but when the PC is off and I sit on the balcony sipping anise and eating something distastefully low carb my mind wanders off  to a sea of dreams. Lots of the time they’re insensible, but more often than anyone would like to I do have something intelligent to say about me, others, and life in general.

Of course, I try to turn mundane events into a comic show. Surely, calling someone a fucking whore in front of a school bus is anything but amusing, but at least the lead up would have been funny.

But I sometimes want to talk about something serious, and from my own reading habits, reading serious posts takes quite a chunk of energy. No matter how in reality I do care about what I am reading, or the person behind the post, I cannot get myself to finish reading the post. Or if I do indeed finish, I really have nothing to say.

Which is why you don’t find me commenting often.

And here I go again losing track of what I want to say, which is: give me inspiration. My blog isn’t as good as it used to be. Of course it might be because I constantly seek to  improve everything when I should enjoy them.

But a little reader input wouldn’t hurt.

Jarjuiciyyat Vol. 3

The Grasshopper Incident

Me: O_______________________O
Sis: *walks in* what’s the matter?
Me: *points*
Sis: O_______________________O
Sis: Ok KJ we need to kill it.
Me: NO WAY! I am NOT going to kill that thing!
Sis: It’s in OUR BALCONY and I don’t want it IN MY HOUSE!
Me: FINE! But I am not going to squish it.
Sis: Whatever.
Me: *gets room scented spray*
Sis: What the HELL are you doing?!
Me: What if it smells when it dies!
Sis: It’s a GRASS hopper, it will just smell of GRASS!
Me: Psht! well then, I have an idea
Sis: What?
Me: You know cans, if you keep pressing, they get cold, and the spray gets cold
Sis: aha…
Me: so we will just FREEZE it! Then throw it outside to thaw and resume its life.
Sis: you want to freeze a grasshopper with a scented spray…
Me: think about it! It will not harm us, it will live, AND it will smell nice!
Sis: suit yourself…

the grasshopper died.

Finding a Home

Me: look what I bought! *points to brand new bicycle*
Sis: Where on EARTH are you gonna put it!
Me: here, in the kitchen
Sis: no no, no no no no no, this goes downstairs in the storage
Me: But it’s DARK down there and COLD!
Sis: KJ this is not the time for you to be you.
Me: What if Charlie gets –
Sis: Charlie? It has a name now?!
Me: What if Charlie gets a cold and he breaks down while cycling.
Sis: It’s a STUPID BIKE!
Me: O_O
Sis: And what the heck is THAT! *points to green ribbon*
Me: It’s a ribbon.
Sis: Why did they give you a ribbon!
Me: I asked for it.
Sis: O___O
Me: Well they didn’t wanna give me a discount so I said the least you could do is give me a ribbon!
Sis: Just… put it in the kitchen…

Plumbing Lies

Sis: *after 15 minutes of driving* um KJ
Me: yup?
Sis: I think the flush in my washroom is not working
Me: What?!
Sis: yeah water is always running it’s not stopping.
Me: You’re telling me this NOW?
Sis: I forgot I am sorry! Anyway it’s ok.
Me: What do you mean OK!
Sis: Well it’s not gonna flood the house!
Me: Well even if it doesn’t we will just waste gallons of water till we come back!
Sis: Ok “Mr Environmentalist”
Me: gsdkuhfspiuy! *drives back*

back at home

Me: It’s fine! It’s working fine!
Sis: Oh, sorry then, my mistake..
Me: *notices something different*
Sis: what?
Me: Did you… just change your shoes?
Sis: huh? Oh… tee hee!

Seven Years Ago

I was a genius!

A friend of mine came across an email I sent to my friends that many years ago. I, myself, keep emails, some that go back to 1997 (those were printed, even), and the others happily residing in digital form on my computer. In that email, I wrote words that resound in my head as I read them today. “Did I write that?” I tell myself in disbelief.

No matter how many books you read or how many pills you take or how many sessions you sit through, nothing is as effective as reading your very own words – the you that you miss as you grow up.

I for one know what that KJ was talking about. And despite the stolen but paraphrased last paragraph from a Danielle Steele novel (let’s not comment on that, but if you need to know, the book was called The Long Road Home), and the typos, I think that KJ is still around and kicking!

Thank you, me!

This is a break of my tradition of sorts, but I would like to share it with you regardless.


It’s hard not to get the “I Am Going To Make A Resolution” urge on New Year’s Eve. There’s that sense of renewal, of rebirth, and the guilty awareness that you ate your own weight in chocolate during the holidays (or in case of some people I know [me], quite a lot of hot dogs). Sure, last year’s resolutions didn’t make it past the fifth of January, but hey, this year’s going to be different, right?


Most of us don’t have a clue how to make a reasonable resolution, which is why most of us fail to keep the ones we make. We set high goals for ourselves, and then wonder why we never attain them. So we either stop setting goals (saying something like “Well maybe next year I would make a wiser one”), or make resolutions that are ridiculously easy to keep (like the other one I made, “I Promise To Be Good To Everyone”. I mean, seriously…whom am I kidding).


I reign as the undisputed king of the broken resolution. Gain weight (imagine, people). Exercise. And, of course, the invariably stress-inducing “I Must Relax More” (as in be in my own shoes). They all failed, and not because I wasn’t sincere when I made them. I’d say it, I’d mean it, and then I did . . . Absolutely nothing. Oh sure, the resolution stood firm for a few weeks, and its memory returned throughout the year, mostly to make me feel guilty and ineffectual. Except for the Russian accent. I want to keep it.


Once I realized this I made a prompt, if somewhat tardy, New Year’s resolution (Okay, really tardy. It was in the summer semester, June). This year was going to be different. Only this time, my resolution was to figure out a way to keep resolutions.


This year witnessed two major events that occured and, ultimately, altered my life. The first of them was my unintentional [metaphorical] destruction (and I emphasize the word unintentional for those who know what I am talking about). The second of them was the “Phoenix Effect” – my recreation. True, I was the architect of both, perfectly orchestrating both symphonies – while opposing by nature, but necessary to complete the circle.


So right now I am looking back. I have reach the summit of this mountain. Looking back, I discovered that, although I have had many difficulties climbing it, the road doesn’t seem as twisted, rocky or scary from up here. And with that, I have decided on my New Year’s Resolution.