I wish I have something interesting to update, but I don’t.

Wait, I do.

About irritating bloggers I met through blogging.

But, my tongue doesn’t feel acidic enough to be utilised today.

Hence, I shall request for a raincheck.

I am just heaving a huge sigh of relief to be back to where the cosiness provides such security for me.

Ahh.. the comfort of my bed, under the duvet, with CSI: New York in the background.

But I deserve a pat on my back for surviving 2 entire days without internet connection, and not feeling any withdrawal symptoms.

What can I say? Reading always take your minds off the nitty-gritties in life.

I spent my entire Wednesday reading, and watching the dummy-box.

How lifeless.

I am in fact, having bloggers’ block, right now.

I mean, I do have some things to blog, but am too lazy.

That doesn’t stop the fact that I have gotten thus far in my entry despite not having fodders for a proper entry.

And I know once I get the hang of it, this entry will slowly expand itself with not much substance in it.

Muahahaha.

Yeap.

So what am I trying to say?

Erm.

Nothing.

I did nothing after blogging my last entry.

I left the internet cafe, and went home to chalk a massive phone bill.

I think it’s gonna be massive.

I mean, it gotta be.

I had no form of entertainment, and thus, lengthy phone conversations were my only saviors.

It was a couple of hours with VampTreSS.

And can someone work out for me how much it is gonna cost me to be on the phone to Singapore for almost 7 hours?

Anyway, this should be better than *cough* those days when I exchanged multiple phone calls from morning to night with.. erm.. Mr KG.

Monday to Sunday.

Just that the locations were reversed.

I, in Singapore, and him, in Malaysia.

Ah. Not important.

So I am gonna avoid my dad at all costs when he returns from Sydney.

Yeah, they went Sydney!

I would have followed them if I knew they were heading Sydney!

I would just break away from them and explore the place myself, though.

They would be back, say tomorrow late night, or early Friday.

I am hoping they would get lotsa goodies for me this time round.

They never buy pressies for me when they travel, but I hope I did drive my point across when I joked all I want is a Gucci bag.

Yeah, joke, you see.

Then again, I should joke more often, seeing how my joke got me a fabulous birthday present this year.

Seriously, a bottle of perfume would suffice.

I am a sucker for those curvaceous bottle with sexy scents.

My latest favourite?

Chanel Coco Mademoiselle.

And my usual scent Elizabeth Arden Provocative Woman’s content is emptying fast.

I am smelly, thus, the heavy dependency on perfume.

Not to mention how my taste on perfume varies as the hormones stage riots throughout the month.

Great. I am getting the flow of blogging without someone scratching his balls right beside me.

I mean, less distraction disgust, thus, more flow.

***

I found myself smothered in fear whenever I am back in JB.

Immense fear.

Just a couple of months ago, when I was back in JB, I left the apartment to come back to Singapore.

And, 10 minutes I left, my parents were left shaken(pun very intended) when the building rocked to and forth, scaring the hell outta them, and they evacuated the building right away.

Apparently, the building was hit by the impact of earthquake in Sumatra.

My mom told how fearful she was and was almost, or already crying cos the shakes were pretty violent.

I do not dare to imagine how I would react if I was alone there, and it happens.

The night when I got back to my JB place on Sunday, was the night when an earthquake struck again.

I was just pretty glad it wasn’t something like the one before.

***

In 2003, there was once when Philip and I were back in JB for a short visit.

Thunder struck.

I was jolted awake, sprang up from the bed, and launched into a series of blood-curdling shrills.

My fear for thunders. Or rather, fears.

The husky and low rumbles early Monday morning scared the poo outta me.

Thank God I had someone over the line enduring my snappish mood cos I was darn unsettled by the consistent thunders.

The thunders teased, taunted, and mocked.

My palms sweaty, mood cranky, and was a bundle of nerves.

I loathe it when my nerves control me. Anything will just rub me off the wrong way, and set me off.

And I didn’t have my sturdy duvet to offer me a cuddle and wrap me in its warmth and security.

All I had was a thin strip of blanket offering me minimal support.

At least, I wasn’t quite alone.

Phew.

***

Tuesday was spent shopping aimlessly just because I wanted to get out of the house.

Ladies, I say, get your asses to JB to get your manicure done.

I am not a fan of manicures cos I am so darn lazy with keep my nails in check and act all graceful just not to get my nails chipped.

Yet, whenever I am back in JB, I can’t resist doing a frenchie for just a mere 30 ringgits.

O.P.I. somemore. As if I know the difference.

I headed for a sumptuous meal of Genki Sushi right after that, and that was the only proper meal I had throughout my entire stay in JB.

I had wanted to watch a movie by myself but I didn’t want to be taken advantage of by those irritatingly dishonest cab drivers, so decided to head home early instead.

It was then more reading.

I had wanted to dye my hair blonde out of boredom, but I should count my blessings(?) that I didn’t have any ringgits with me.

***

What I detest most is when I have to stand by the roadside to hail for a cab.

Even before I could cross the road, I would have countless vehicles horning honking at me, and some of them would shout or whistle in an obscene manner.

There were many times when I was waiting for a cab, I would have to call VampTreSS or other friends just to have someone on the phone with me whilst I waited.

And you think it’s because the way I dress that got me unnecessary attention?

Imagine this.

Ting in slippers, glasses, hair dishevelled, and super homely clothes.

I tell you, I suspect they would do the same to my mum, too.

And *&@!#!%#%! I had a truck horning at me that scared the hell outta me just now at 11.45pm.

Those bunch of sleazeballs. Arghhh.

It was a dark, and quiet roadside, you see.

I should be glad I wasn’t kidnapped or robbed.

I should start practising the use of my middle finger.

Or fine-tuned my vulgarities-spitting.

I felt an ounce of anger brewing in me when VampTreSS mocked ‘Hello? What vulgarities?‘ when I said I have been using ‘Nah-beh‘ too often.

Tsk tsk.

The vice you pick up when you have friends like Vamp, Jane Doe, and FF.

But I thought that was really cute, you see. And it doesn’t really sound vulgar, don’t you think?

But.. darn.

I got insulted thoroughly when a friend of mine told me ‘dont act cute!‘ whenever I mustered that crude phrase out.

ACT CUTE?!?!?!!

Scolding nah-beh is act cute?!?!?!?!

I am appalled!

Apparently, they deemed my vulgarities too melodious.

They laughed whenever I try to curse.

No good.

No one is taking me seriously.

I promise I shall curb my nah-behism.

Hey wait, I thought I am supposed to brush it up so I could launch them at those buggers who disturb me when I wait for cabs.

Ah well.

***

I strolled in the peaceful night when I finally arrived back in Singapore, stopping by Al-azhar for some food.

The walk to the eating joint was a quiet, and refreshing one.

No souls in sight, but the heavy bushes that cooled the night.

It’s pretty exhilarating.

To feel that slight tinge of fear, and constantly looking over your shoulder, yet enjoying the solitude all at the same time.

It was 5 minutes before the buzz of life lit up the night yet again, when the eatery was in sight.

Plonked my bag heavily onto the seat right next to me, I ordered some coin-prata with mutton curry.

Indulgence that would definitely show up around the midriff in few hours’ time.

I sat there, out of place, juggling people-watching, novel-reading, and eating all at the same time.

I was the only lonely soul, sitting alone at the big, round table, whilst everyone was busking in the company of their loved ones, or friends.

The row of bikes parked along the road reminded me of the old days of riding.

I tried to look for the past of mine in the faces in the eatery.

The number-plate browsing, the model-naming of the makes of bike, or even recognising the design of helmets on the chairs and tables.

Darn.

I am such a misfit, everywhere.

***

Funny how everything would seem so foreign in just a couple of days.

I felt so detached as I caught up with blog-hopping, as well as blogging itself.

Did I lose touch or something?

Even my room feels a little odd, and has an unfamiliar musk to it.

Ah.

For now, I shall spread the laundry on the pole.

Please kindly remind me to blog about bloggers for the next entry.

Should be quite fun.

Sensationally so.

Shucks. Mr Tabloid should be making a best pal out of me, ya know?