I'd like to believe I have a "kill-joy" reputation. You know, the one who bursts the bubble, the party spoiler. Very much like telling everybody in the movie theatre that Sadako will crawl out the TV screen and that Bruce Willis' character in the Sixth Sense is actually a ghost. I haven't really done that, movie goers might kill me.
In China, Frodo once got irked by my apparent indifference when I didn't share his and other teammamtes enthusiasm for group picture taking. Well you see, I have an aversion for behaving like a tourist from hell, you know, having your picture taken at every opportunity, from stepping out of the plane and even while waiting for your turn in the immigration line. "You're such a KJ". I lost count of the number of times he told me that.
When I used to work for a brokerage house, my officemates would be noisy and cackling with laughter while I stoicly ignored them. Calois once tacked a newspaper feature he cut from the Inquirer about "how to detect if your child is autistic" on my work station. They probably think I ocassionally space out and inhabit a parallel universe totally different from this one. The fact that I listen to the Three Tenors rather than Justin Timberlake or Martin Nievera reinforces that perception. Ostensibly, autism might possibly explain my behaviour. I found it hilarious.
The most obvious explanation is also among the most cliche-ish: different strokes for different folks. Yah?
In China, Frodo once got irked by my apparent indifference when I didn't share his and other teammamtes enthusiasm for group picture taking. Well you see, I have an aversion for behaving like a tourist from hell, you know, having your picture taken at every opportunity, from stepping out of the plane and even while waiting for your turn in the immigration line. "You're such a KJ". I lost count of the number of times he told me that.
When I used to work for a brokerage house, my officemates would be noisy and cackling with laughter while I stoicly ignored them. Calois once tacked a newspaper feature he cut from the Inquirer about "how to detect if your child is autistic" on my work station. They probably think I ocassionally space out and inhabit a parallel universe totally different from this one. The fact that I listen to the Three Tenors rather than Justin Timberlake or Martin Nievera reinforces that perception. Ostensibly, autism might possibly explain my behaviour. I found it hilarious.
The most obvious explanation is also among the most cliche-ish: different strokes for different folks. Yah?
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