Sunday, June 27, 2010

Killjoy #1 - The Morbid


11:30am: And so, the trip came to a halt. I shall name this failed attempt Killjoy #1 – The Morbid, for lack of a better word. At this precise moment, I am sitting at the junction of Rokeby Road and Roberts Road, sipping a warm mug of San Churros’ hot milk chocolate. The route map and my gloves glaring at me, mockingly; the Great MIA Escapade was never intended to be so enjoyable.


I’m jogging my memory to retrace the series of stuff ups I’ve had since the morning, more or less all due to my unsatisfiable curiosity, and my inability to keep my butt on the wheels.


8:30am: Karen, brimming with anticipation, chokes herself on the last bit of muffin and downs the remaining soy milk to get her breakfast down. With her morning staple done, she slaps on her headgear and funky shades, ditching those gloves because they look gay. She takes a step out the door and is immediately greeted by the bitter morning chill. The gay gloves come in handy after all. Ready to Rumble!


The trip starts by backtracking 30metres to the junction at Broadway and Princess Road. She’d never imagine her whole journey forth would be full of contemplating decisions – to detour or to de-route. In her mind, she conjured images of miniature dancing penguins rallying around their unquestionable Queen – Penguroo.


She conquered her first uphill battle before reaching Stirling Highway. “Many more to come, ENDURE!” she reminded herself. The cold wind diffused with smog and road dust, clouding her vision and caused her to wheeze. “That’s why I planned the shortest route along the major highway, Wahahaha!” she proudly praised herself mentally as she cuts into a random small road, off her marked path.


LESSON NUMBER 1: Why spend 1 hour plotting a route with Google maps if you are not going to follow it? Damnit Karen.


“General Direction, general Direction!! No worries!!!” she reminded herself confidently. Yet her confidence proved short lived. 10minutes later, she stood pondering at her first dilemma point – Left (General Direction) leads to a path right into the cemetery; Right(one way) leads in a general direction back to the start point.


It’s not difficult to guess which route she chose then because we know that she spent the next 1 and half hours, give and take a little, cycling in loops within the cemetery.


“There’s an odd serenity about this place, and it’s actually quite scenic in the morning.”


A few other joggers and retired brisk walkers shared her view. But unlike the others, who had a route, and diligently adhered to theirs, she went off track onto the dirt paths, on track, on roads and finally off track again. Signs that she first used for tracking soon became proof of her despair. Soon, she couldn’t distinguish any of the paths anymore. Words like “Orthodox”, “Reserve”, “Catholics”, “Anglican”, “Salvation” and “Gardens” didn’t seem very tranquil anymore.


LESSON NUMBER 2: Don’t bother trying to find your way around in a cemetery. It’s useless if they all look the same.


When she finally got out of the maze designed for the dead, literally, her navigation has gone severely haywire. There’s no telling which direction goes where. She dedicated the next 45minutes cycling in random directions based on gut – something she usually sucked at. Street names such as “Carrington Street”, “Aberdare Road” and “Railway Road” were like totems she circled continuously. By the third time she passed “Smyth Road”, her patience had worn so thin something drastic needs to be done.


So she did what she thought she had to do - anyhow, anyhow la!


Thomas Street loomed ahead. It was a location she was familiar with. Half glad she finally got her coordinates back but the major part of her yelled “Sianzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....” as she sped closer and closer. This meant she’s now in an area that is even further behind start point, totally off course. She visioned personified alphabets F-A-I-L waving poms poms at her and throwing confetti with mini ‘give-up’s and ‘wahaha’s in her face.


LESSON NUMBER 3: If all else fails, a little bit of cheating is justified, right?


But Karen does not give up just because a great half of her day is burnt identifying headstones and angel statues. She decides to cheat a little. Since [time spent peddling] is relative to [distance covered], or so she’s trying hard to convince herself, had she stayed on track in the beginning, she would well be approaching Freemantle by now. But Karen will not skive off her calories busting regime. She will hitch a train at Subiaco, alight at Cottesloe and regroup from there on. Sounds like a plan?


With that planted firmly in mind, the alphabets and their deplorable, discouraging props diminished into dust. She knew her way too well from here. It was going to be a fruitful trip after all she tried to convince herself one last time. As she sped down the all-so-familiar Rokeby Road, Distractions flanked both sides. The smell of freshly cooked soup and baked baguette wafted through the air and boutiques started opening their fronts for business. At that juncture, she remembered the reason why her route was charted as distant from civilisation as possible.


Her final glimmer of hope for this expedition snuffed out when she and The Wanderer stood in the station, gawking bleakly at the notice that stared back – “There will be no train service from Perth to Freemantle on 26th and 27th June...” She took a peek behind her. Then she knew she lost it. San Churros was beckoning with open arms, full of warmth and comfort, and always so ready to soothe her angst with cocoa. =D


LESSON NUMBER 4: Even cheating failed? Give up. Replan, Reorder and Retry. Good Luck.

Enough of your Shortcuts, Karen?

-------------------------------



The Wanderer took 2 hits. First when Karen crashed straight into a 5inches kerb sticking out of the ground, obviously distracted when Mr Bee decided to play around. Why did they build these things anyway! Second hit when Bee flew closer and The Wanderer crashed to the ground. All Karen could do was root to the ground and shout "OH MY... gosh.. oh.. MY GOSH.. OH my goSH.. OH My goshhh......" till it flew away. The caps and the distance (between Karen and bee) are relative.


Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Circle of Chase

My shoulders stayed plastered against the wall. 10 minutes and I stood rooted, deliberating. Thank goodness the partition kept me hidden from his view. I was a stalker again. It was the usual gym, his regular day of the week, my perfect chance.

I braced myself and took a peek of his side profile. He's Mike McLean, my heartthrob crush and definitely charming. 6 feet tall, toned arms glistening with perspiration, a torso sculpted to perfection and placed winner of every major teen modeling competition. He is every woman's dream.

A wayward pink towel flutters across his working biceps and lands on Mike's thighs. “Oops! Sorry!” I heard her say. My head switches upwards instinctively. Flashing sparks of green and red at this intrusive queue cutter. It was her again. Alice Kell, the rival. She has done it intentionally again, twice this month. I caught her grin as she bent forward to retrieve it, flashing her cleavage in his direction. I battled the desire to hurl my bottle in her face. I would have uncapped it as well to drench my burning fury all over her taunting outfit but at that exact moment, Mike waved in my direction. “BREATHE...” I instructed myself before returning a toothy smile.

“Hi Mike!” I waved as I strutted across, tripping over a stranded 10lbs dumbbell and falling into Mike's arms. His sweaty touch was like a live wire. Adrenaline raced through my vessels and I could feel my face flush instantaneously. Clumsiness was my thing. I was born with neither a flare in sports nor a killer physique like Alice Kell- the girl from hell. Like my name, Jane, I was a plain.

I heard a few hushed gasps of Ooos..” andAhhs..” from a few girls huddled in a corner. Clearly it was not a one-member fan club that Mike was drawing. I was just a classmate, his lab partner and an average good friend.

“You alright dude?”

“Dude?! You got to be kidding me!” I thought to myself, yet it was prove that our rapport was that of brotherhood. And brotherhood being thicker than acquaintanceship, I acknowledged in delight.

“Hey Mike. What’s up?”

“Remember the last time in the school canteen? We were hanging out and there was that girl you introduced me to, Beatrice. Well... we're kind of.. 'involved' right now and I seriously need your help. Oh she's just so amazing the things she tells me. She's so nice and sweet. Her eyes practically twinkle every time I see her. I don't know why! We've been talking about a jogging date but... … … ”

Mike rambled on, oblivious that my inner thoughts have washed out every stimuli around me. Just a split second ago I was still cruising on my fantasy space boat with Prince Charming but at this juncture, my hopes were crashed. It felt like meteorite shards from a nearby blast burrowing under my skin and fracturing my bones while an alien ray gun tortuously sublimates my very existence. I wished I was deaf or Mike would shut up.

“Jane! Are you even listening?” he cut me.

With the best of my ability, I shrugged nonchalantly and answered, “You're in love with my friend. You need an alibi to ask her out. I get it! ”, though every cell egged me to turn my back and run straight for the pillar.

“Alright, here's the plan. I'll tell her you're going too. This Saturday. But you're gonna give us the scoot while we're there so I can make a move right? Pretty Please..”

I really do not need this talk now. But it's Mike. How can I EVER say no.

Ooook....”

“Right on! That’s why I love you Jane!”


That was the most dreadful week I ever experienced. The weather sucked, my food lacked appeal, schoolwork seemed tougher than usual and I was plagued with constant nightmares of a man eating grizzly. Even my plants started to wilt in correspondence to my sinking mood. I found myself semi-consciously following the footsteps of a clown. My friends proclaimed me delusional when I was caught eating ketchup using a fork, sharpening a pen, walking into people and standing up randomly during lectures.

Saturday came too fast. I was going to be a date decoy for the man I loved so much. Dejected as I may be, it was my final chance to let Mike know my feelings. I had no time for letups. If it had been any other girl, I would have a slight flicker of confidence, but my female counterpart was tremendously strong. Even without the additional advantage of mutuality, Beatrice was just like how Mike complimented. She was pretty, smart, always smiling, humble and assisting. I could not imagine a halo any brighter than this girl that Mike adores to the core. I was going to throw in my chips today.

“Hi Beatrice! Hi Jane!” Mike was beaming. So was Beatrice.

Hmmm… What a nice weather. An ice cream sundae would make a nice wager don't you say?”

“I'll take your challenge anytime, lady. 20km and make that a double. I'll charm the wits out of you.”

“Your chunks don't scare me dude. Bring it on!”

My presence was tactlessly tucked away, just like how I could not care less about the weather. I was sweltering bullets from watching their playful romantic exchange. We did our stretching exercises silently yet I could not help but notice Beatrice stealing glances at Mike, bashfully. Mine was a futile gamble, I know.

“First to the cracked red bench! Let’s Go!”

And Beatrice was gone, sprinting with quick lithe steps towards the lush green path. As though amused, Mike faltered a 5 seconds before prancing behind her. I froze momentarily, letting my gaze stalk his back. Further and further he went, till his silhouette was nothing more than a tiny speck of brown, bobbing rhythmically to each step and swing of his arms.

My job here was done and my one-way love story had also concluded tragically. Just like a virus, the infections circle of unrequited affection expanded it's radius to include my chase. As I let loose a long, tedious sigh of empathy for myself, a wayward blue towel fluttered across my face. My ears blanked out all sound as I slow motioned the scene play of a gorgeous, apologetic guy walking up to me.

“Wow.” I thought, “This may be the start of another.”