TOWARDS INTERNATIONALISATION, NATIONALISATION & GLOBALISATION
*Coughs* Lame title, I know.
Anyway, what the hell am I still up at this hour, blogging, instead of tucking myself into the cosy duvet, catching up on some lagged rest.
I even did my laundry, and already spreaded them across on the pole!
I have more things to ‘teyh’ about today.
I want to lament how I am still having the runs now, and *baby voice* feeling shoooooo miserable *pouts like a kid*
*PURR x 13* – SCRATCHED WOUND
My arm is bleeding.
I have no idea where the scratched wound came from, but I only realised its existence last night until someone pointed it out to me.
Great.
Argh.
Part of the scab came off, and now it’s bleeding.
At least my lips’ bleeding stopped.
*PURR x 14* – INSOMIA
Well, well.
Cold turkeying from running nose medication and cough syrup which both made me drowsy and gave me the occasional out-of-body high proved hard.
Nothing to put me into deep slumber.
So, here I am, still awake.
Body clock blardy screwed again.
*PURR x 15* – RASHES
The itch on my face was almost unbearable.
I took out the tiny mirror from my bag, and gave a bloodcurdling shrill when I saw the red patches, wait, I mean, BIG, HUGE red patches all over my face.
FREAKING UGLY!!
I mean, yup, it’s not usually a nice sight, so it wouldn’t make much difference with the rashes, you say.
BUT IT’S HORRENDOUSLY HORRENDOUS!
Great. I am disfigured.
Badly.
*PURR x 16* – STAR WARS
No, it’s not that I don’t like the movie.
In fact, I have a huge crush on Yoda after the previous instalment.
But, when was the last time I last stepped into a theatre?
More than half a year ago.
The last movie I watched was The Incredibles, with Lingshen, and Kaiming.
HOW BLARDY SAD IS THAT?!
I missed so many movie along the way simply because? I am single and no one ever dates me to the cinema!
In fact, after my breakup, I only been to the cinema 5 pathetic times, and out of which, 3 times were by myself.
And that is considered pathetically pathetic when I watched more than 70 movies in 2 and half years prior to the split.
Estimated of 1 movie every 2 weeks.
I adore watching movies in the cinema, really.
FINE.
I shall watch Star Wars by myself.
Who needs guys?
Hmphf.
Don’t try to date me, cos it will make me seem like such a blardy gigantic loser.
I don’t need your sympathy.
Hmphf! Hmphf! Hmphf!
Unless I like you, of course. *blush*
*PURR x 17* – BROKE
Very broke.
Sometimes, I wish I know how to say ‘no’.
Firmly.
I spent a fortune cos I splurge on moisturiser and some skin care.
Face was really dry, and I have been surviving on no moisturiser for quite a while.
Sad news is, I still have yet to get the much needed lip balm cos I was busy with shopping, till all the other shops were closed by the time I emerged from Forever 21.
Yes. Forever 21.
Not my fault.
Raf’s.
Decided to meet up with her in Orchard to do some brief shopping. Had planned to meet up with her to catch up over some drinks, since Miss Ting here was in need of a heart-to-heart.
The lady at Estee Lauder seemed too nice.
So nice that I felt no guilt signing on the dotted line for the skin care products, which came with free gifts(Free, you know!).
To make myself feel better, those things are indeed much needed by my clogged and underpampered skin.
I am every sales person’s dream come true.
Bleah.
I am my own nemesis.
But but but! At least I managed to curb the urge to splurge on new perfume! -lame justification-
The evil Ting bought brownies for the maggie babe, with the intention to make her fat. Hurhurhur, with friends like me, who needs enemies?
Anyway, we ventured to Forever 21, cos the babe had wanted to shop for something she likes.
Well, shopping can be quite boring when your friends are browsing, and you are not, right?
So, I randomly chose some garments, and tried them on.
Damn. Every item looked *cough* fantastic on me.
Alas, I couldn’t afford any and I shouldn’t buy anything could only choose one.
We were the last to leave the shop at 10.10pm.
With customers like us, who needs enemies?
Was really in a mess when I went out, so I decided to change into the top immediately.
I ended up looking like a tai-tai, more than ever.
Great.
*roll eyes*
*PURR x 18* – EXPOSED! OH NO!
Next time, choose your shopping partner wisely.
Don’t choose someone you feature on your blog distinctively.
Like, the lovely, gorgeous Raf.
Was at Forever 21, looking my worst, peeling the dead skin from my lips. *ouch*
Oh, did I mention the auntie-ish plastic bag from Tangs I was holding?
*Wags finger at Tangs* Tsk tsk. Time to repackage your image, ya know.
Was wearing a white top, exposing my spilling tummy, and my pedal-pushers which are a tad too loose for me now.
Darn. Next time when I shop for clothes, I should buy them in size 6 AND size 8.
On good days I contract, tuck myself neatly into a size 6.
On bad days I am bloated, fat and ugly, wriggle into the size 8 without feeling too conscious when size 6 refuses to zip up.
Hurhurhur. Brilliant plan. Flawless.
Oh, where was I?
Looking my worst.
Raf was pointing to me, saying something about ‘There, she is over there.’ to someone.
I peeked over, curious who was standing behind the wall that blocked my view.
Horror of horrors!
It was a familiar face.
I shivered, shuddered, trembled, and cold sweat broke out.
Drama, I know.
I instinctively held the piece of garment I chosen and covered my mouth in flabbergastion.
Pun unintended.
Apparently, Miss Yunyi(aka Wanyi) noticed Raf, and went up to her to establish her identity.
Hurhurhur. As a non-blogger, Raf had established her *cough* celebrity status through, here.
And suey suey coincidentally, I was there with Raf.
I should be really excited to meet her, but I was too, horrified, that I almost hyperventilated.
Nervous, you know!
Still, a photograph to commemorate the moment.
(Her body darn power)
Too bad she was rushing for time, or else it would be fun to catch up a lil more.
So… embarrassing.
I was totally uncool.
Bleah.
***
Walked to Burger King to pack some food, and made our way to, well, er, must I say… Attica.
We thought of chilling by the riverside, and not getting involved with the raving and music.
Well, well.
It was rather unusual, with the amount of ‘Can I buy you guys a drink?‘s coming our way.
WOAH.
Let’s say it was just totally out of the ordinary, and it was as if everyone would suddenly come up to us, or stop us, wanting to buy us drinks.
Must be Raf.
And, I could almost write a review of guys, according to their nationality.
ITALIAN
Needless to say, most people would know I have a weakness for Italians.
That melodious language, and the fine breeds like Mr Rossi, Biaggi, Melandri…
And pastas!
Was walking out of Burger King, when a Mr Italian was suddenly captivated by Miss Raf’s beauty.
He came up to us to ask where is a good place for dancing.
When Miss Very Nice Ting tried to suggest to him a couple, he was looking intently on Raf, and spewed lavish compliments on her exotic looks.
We suggested Attica, obviously, but pointed out to him that his bermudas would not get him in.
He said he would return to the hotel to change, and hope to catch us there.
We took a MRT to Clarke Quay, and made our way to the cushions along the riverside.
Nice ambience.
We were starting to warm up to the seats, sipping our drinks, enjoying each other’s company when suddenly, *poof* Mr Italian came into the picture.
Well done. He was really serious even though Clarke Quay wasn’t around Orchard.
We were sitting side by side, and Mr Italian insisted that he wanted to sit between us.
I tried to gave some lame excuse that I would be sharing food with Raf, and I wanted her beside me.
Take a good look at the picture, the seat was catered for 2 people and 3, alright!
He could only sit beside us, and looking on, spoiling our plans to have a good girls’ talk.
Oh, did I mention not all Italians are cute?
Muahahaha.
We grew increasingly bored.
Very bored.
I was falling asleep, and the only way to shake ourselves away from him, we decided to venture into the dancefloor.
As I walked past Jamail, I told him to keep a lookout for us, just in case the Italian tries to do anything funny, cos we just didn’t quite enjoy his company.
He bought us drinks.
Was dancing on the dancefloor, and there were a couple of not-too-bad German guys dancing near us.
One of them, the tall one, bumped into Raf.
Mr Italian then tried to shield Raf, saying something along the line ‘I do not want him to touch you, I want you to myself.’
I think.
Then, he said something when he saw us turning over, looking at the German guys.
Apparently, Raf recognised them as the ones who asked her for directions earlier.
She remembered the bespectacled German, whom she thought was rather cute.
Mr Italian spoke. Words of wisdom.
‘Why are you guys looking at them? I am an Italian. Italians are much hotter than they are!‘
*GASP*
GERMANY
When Mr Italian realised we weren’t even looking at him, and were just dancing to ourselves, he scramed.
Good riddance.
The 2 German guys then started talking to us.
I could hardly understand both of them with their limited English capacity.
I need to repeat myself 5 times for the same short sentence like ‘ARE YOU HERE FOR HOLIDAYS OR BUSINESS?’
I thought I spoke crap English until I realised Raf faced the same problems.
They slowly grew intimidating like all Caucasians do, and we made our exits.
Communication failed.
Terrible.
SWITZERLAND
Or so he claimed. Which I quite suspected he’s not.
Lawyer.
Or so he claimed.
‘Don’t you remember me?’
I tried very hard, but I couldn’t.
‘We met at Velvet,’ he said.
Hurhurhur.
I only went to Velvet once or twice some months ago, when BenTingism was at its peak.
Later then did I know I fell for the stupidest pickup line.
Yup, I am not very bright up there, I know.
He then grabbed my hand and insisted on buying us a drink.
We excused ourselves by saying we were looking for a friend, and would be back later.
We sneaked out of the club.
Long while later, when we were heading for the restroom, we were spotted by the eagle-eyed.
Bleah.
Couldn’t escape this time, and I had a sip from the vodka redbull, which I later left the glass to stand untouched.
Generous with compliments.
Plenty of sleaze.
Very funny.
When he suggested we go to his place for red wine and some television watching, and he could put my friend on the cab home.
Do I look like a doofus to you?!
Okay, I may be one, but I am not THAT stupid, okay.
Red wine and television watching ONLY?!
Hurhurhur.
I don’t drink red wine.
Coffee then.
I don’t like coffee either.
Peppermint tea.
I don’t like, too.
Twinings.
Sounds good, but I can make my own, at home.
He then tried his luck with Raf, persuading her, saying we could both go up to his place to have a party.
Yes, Raf Ting sounds like a potential name for a blue film, but you definitely ain’t getting any.
When we went out of club, chilling, talking to Terry and Jamail, Mr Swiss came out, ending his night at Attica.
Bad luck.
I was there, and he suddenly wanted to come over and bring me home.
Don’t know how to spell DIE is it?
*GASP GASP GASP*
I said I was with Terry, and he only knew how to stand there, and smile silly-ly, like he always does, when I gave him weird looks and contorted eyebrows to signal how uncomfortable I was and needed help.
Bleah.
Thankfully, Jamail and Terry were there, and I rushed to hide behind them, though they didn’t quite help much, other than sniggering at the whole episode.
Such friends.
Hmphf.
SINGAPORE
Nerds.
This guy came up to us, asking us if we would like to join him at his table for a drink cos he would really like to buy us drinks.
He stammered. He muttered.
We walked over to the table, and used the usual excuse of we are going out of the club for a while to look for a friend, and would be back later.
Needless to say, we never went back.
SPAIN
Put 2 contrasts together, and well…
Roberto is Spanish. ‘Nuff said.
He was at the club, too.
The moment he saw me, he inched his cheeks forward, and pecks were swiftly exchanged as greetings.
Airkissed him goodbye when I left too, and his spikey cheeks made me wonder how he would look with a beard.
Interesting.
On the other end of the spectrum, some Spanish came up to me, trying to strike a conversation which I was totally not interested in when I was standing by the bar, waiting for a glass of iced water.
It ended with some invitation to lunch this coming weekend, since he was having a long weekend, and 3 days of break.
We shall see, I patronised.
He asked for my number before he left.
I gave a bogus number.
Not very nice, I know.
***
Some others from countries we didn’t find out.
Guys are so boring.
Bleah.
Yucks.
I don’t even find myself rouse by them, so it’s redundant to add an ‘A’ in front of that.
I should be a lesbian.
I find myself such a genius when chatting up girls. Gorgeous ones.
Anyway, we ended the night with supper at River Valley with Hermes and Shah, and they later sent Raf home, and dropped me off at Bukit Timah.
By that time, it was already 6 plus, and no midnight surcharge! Whee!
Oh well. This post is incredibly boring.
Ah, did I forget to mention New Zealanders and Australians?
Hm, dinner with a New Zealander this Saturday.
So. Muahahaha. Stay tuned.
As for Fred’s speculation of when will I meet the Mensa guy out there?
Truth to be told, I think I met a few already. (I believe Alan, Vyers, Johnny, Mr New Zealander, Ben, Mr Acqua Di Gio 2 safely qualify)
But Mensa guys don’t fall for bimbos like me, ya know. *bats eyelashes*
