Came home to see that familiar nick on my MSN list.

A pal whom I got acquainted with, through the most bizarre way ever possible, and we had met up to catch up for once, some months ago, with his friends.

This blog had to take some credit for that.

It had been quite a while since we last conversed, and I decided to send my regards and well-wishes to him cos I am aware of the hectic schedules he had these days.

I happened to know that it had been fulfilling and extremely exciting phase for him, since he had been awfully busy with what he loves doing in China, and as he took a few days’ break, he would be flying off again later today.

Praise the Lord! He had assured that everything had went on brilliantly with God’s grace, and the placement of his faith, lifted me, as well.

Asked when will Singapore be on his agenda, and he replied late November.

Cool.

Well, am really tempted to lend support for his work then.

Take care friend, and gee, you really have been at the peak of your form these days, judging by the glamourous pictures I came across.

Meanwhile, I am sure He will guide you along, and I will keep you prayers that everything will go on fantabulously well and smooth for you.

Till then, see ya.

Ha.

And now, it’s time for me to save up.

I was filled with so much angst that tonight must be the night that I had the most amount of pent-up frustration, and silent curses, EVER.

That could potentially jam up my arteries and induce a heart seizure.

Argh.

I wonder why do I have such a limited vulgar vocabulary in my dictionary.

The same swear words just repeat themselves over and over again just because I couldn’t think of anything else.

How boring.

Ah well. After putting some of the darling girlies through my rants, and whining like a child to SBB for the past hour(sheesh. He just had to laugh at the way I string the swear words together), the headache did cease a little(but it’s still lingering) and the fury had gone down to a nought.

They say to cure a headache, is humping.

I would verify that it works very well, but my -cough- abstinence means that the remedy is not available to me.

Anyway, I am all perked up now(well, you would if someone showers you with THAT much amount of lame jokes) and feeling better after a few hours of difficulty in breathing caused by the agony of angst.

That makes me wonder if I have enough angst to blog the gist of it or not.

Actually.

I suddenly don’t feel like lamenting about it anymore.

The gist of it.

My mum.

I would have spent quite a pleasant day in Malaysia, without meeting any dishonest or rude Malaysians, until the lady at home had to screw things up.

The tirade of comments that she made, that had probably made up 100% of the conversations she held with me, besides the usual naggings of ‘When you head out, must close the windows..’ were:

#1 – I was trying to make a quiet entrance to the house since she would probably be asleep.

Thank God, she was.

Alas, she heard I was back, and was eager to see me.

Darn, I thought.

I tried to face the television, and back-faced her, so she would not have the chance to scrutinise my features to make any comments.

I draped my fringe to the sides of my face, dipped my head, to make sure it would be hard for her to see.

She stood there, made some silly small talks.

She stopped talking.

She just stood there, and paused for a few seconds, before saying in that annoying tone of hers.

‘What happened huh? Why you so fair ah?‘

I grunted a sigh of frustration and barked, ‘Can you stop asking me such stupid questions?’ before she finally halted and scurried into her room.

#2 – Over lunch, she was sitting at the same table.

I dipped my head as usual and didn’t want to make any eye contact with her.

‘You did your hair huh?‘

Sensing it as an okay question, I tried to gave a mellowed tone and replied a ‘yuh’.

‘Not nice hor? Very ugly right? Expensive or not? The curls grew longer so not nice already.‘

I shot her a glare before she shut her trap.

#3 – Still lunch. ‘You fat already hor? Got a bit right?‘

Trying to exercise a tad of self-control, I casually, patiently replied, ‘Don’t have what. I lost a bit compared to the past few months.’

#4 – Was heading out to do some shopping, and she walked me out to the main road to hail a cab.

She needed to get some stuffs from the carpark, and thus we strolled to the carpark together.

‘Do you do sports these days?‘

Busking in the delight of my recent achievement, I cheerily answered positively.

‘When? What did you do? Still doing them consistently?‘

‘Just couple of days ago. Jogging.’

‘Like not much help huh..‘

F… Fine.

I rolled my eyes. Gave her an icy stare.

I think I achieved darn lot by NOT asking her to shut up. In her face.

#5 – She immediately changed topic.

After fixing her eyes on me, scanning for yet another few seconds.

‘Why didn’t you put on a little bit of makeup?‘

I so saw that coming. Something with reference to the hideous face just had to spring up from nowhere.

Cover the traces left by the rashes and spots right?!

Cos I am too ugly to be on the road right?!

Do I embarrass you THAT much?!

And who the hell do I have to impress in Malaysia?

Tiny tidbit: When I jogged to Holland Village on Tuesday, VampTreSS ‘warned’ me that Mrbrown, Miyagi and James Seng were somewhere around.

I chirped that I would pop over to say hi, which caused VampTreSS to stare at me with a brief moment of disbelief.

‘You don’t mind? Without your makeup and all….?’

‘It’s okay,’ I grinned with a tad of self-assurance, coming to terms with myself.

She has always been aware of my self-consciousness, and found it amazing that I had overcame it.

Now, someone just has to spoil it, again.

#6 – Holding back the frustration, I was praying that she would just stop before I go insane.

Right at this moment, I suddenly had a very warped scenerio flashing through my mind.

Sometimes I am awe by how only she, could make me feel that I am at the brink of my sanity.

Only she.

I suddenly thought that how sweet and cool it would be that one day she would drive me over the edge, and this is what I would do.

I would look at her, coolly, as she rattled off such critiques and senseless questions, and I would gave her a smirk, or a peaceful smile.

Then, I would whip out a lighter, while still having my eyes fix on her, looking relaxed.

I would then twirl a bunch of my hair by my finger… tilt my head slightly, look back at her, amused.

Flick the lighter, and I shall set my hair ablaze.

As the amber slowly eats the life out of my head, I would then flip out my butterfly knife, with my smile intact.

Gradually, bent forward, and start off with my calf, sliding up my thigh.

Slash, slash, slash.

Sharply, swiftly, sensually.

The hips.

Nonchalantly, emotionlessly, coldly.

Work my way up the waist.

Happily, gleefully, gladly.

Then, the arms.

Brutally, deeply, and violently.

Without a hint of mercy.

For the finale.

I shall slash her daughter’s face beyond recognition, all bloodied and minced.

I hope that would make her daughter slimmer, and prettier.

I hope that hurts, too.

‘So do you have boyfriend now?‘

I shot her another stare.

And finally gave her an exasperated ‘ARGHHHHHHH’

Why? If I say ‘no’, would it give you the perfect chance to say ‘No wonder’?

I finally bade her goodbye, and heaved a sigh of relief as I board the cab.

The cab driver spoke good English and was incredibly sweet.

He didn’t charge me extra and even gave me his number in case I need to call for a cab in the future, so that I wouldn’t have to walk out of the apartment, and he would wait for me at the lobby.

He used to be in the Malaysia army, and made my trip such a pleasant one.

Walked around the mall, and got myself a couple of stuffs.

Not accessories nor clothes. How sad.

Fell for a MNG shirt, but deemed it impractical cos I am not of working class, and it would be rather redundant.

But I really like it.

I fell for a MNG bag too.

Velvetish. Not very pricey either.

But I curbed the urge well.

I fell for another MNG bag.

Which would hold lotsa stuffs, especially if I need a sleek, roomful carrier.

Ah.

This is not a good sign.

Met a very nice lady, who was evangelising in the mall, inviting me to a Christian gathering in Malaysia this Saturday.

Had a pleasant and nice chat with her, but had to cruelly reject her invitation since I wouldn’t be around anyway.

Popped by the internet cafe, before making my way home.

Dad sent me out of Malaysia, and as we packed, I thought I shall be nice and knocked on her door to tell her gently and nicely that I would be leaving.

She had packed some food for me so that I wouldn’t go hungry.

Everything was nice and harmonious until…

#7 – When she started nagging how I should go off fattening food and blarblarblar.

I tried diverting the topic and asked her about the vitamins she had been eating.

She asked and I replied I am taking Vitamin C tablets.

As she was passing me some Vitamin E tablets, she suddenly commented, ‘You so fat, shouldn’t be taking anymore vitamins.‘

…………………….

*UTTER HORROR*

I kept my cool and shot her another piercing stare.

She didn’t get it and continued on, ‘Look at your arms. So big and gigantic.‘

I finally couldn’t hold it any longer and ranted, ‘Do you always have to say all these stupid things when I am around? No wonder I hate coming back here to see you. You know what? I shall not come back here anymore.’

I stormed out of the kitchen, slammed the bottle of vitamin E into my bag, and headed out of the house. I could hear her chuckle, albeit uneasily, with an annoying, ‘Wah… so fierce.‘

And, that, concluded my first meeting with her, in 3-4 months.

And perhaps, I shall see her only next year.

Chinese New Year’s eve dinner or something.

I am cool.

I really am.

***

I walk like someone who has too much sex a penguin today.

I thought without feeling the muscle ache yesterday would mean that I am spared from it totally.

But I woke up feeling the strain on the shin, the inner thighs and the butt today.

I walked around with my mind muttering silent ‘ouch’es throughout the day as I strutted around the mall, finding the ache annoying yet enjoying it at the same time.

***

Spent the day yesterday meeting up with my ex-colleagues from Mingwei’s agency.

Many new faces that I failed to recognise.

I bought yet another new book.

I stole some food from Mingwei’s dinner.

And as usual, the greeting question was, ‘Who is SBB? Show me his picture!’

Duh.

***

Rushed home to meet up with Cat, who spilled the good news that she is a month’s gone.

Awwwwwwwwww…. *squeals in delight*

Congrats darling!

I am oh-so excited!

And I felt overwhelmed with guilt that I made her wait for me at the lobby whilst I rushed back from my meeting with Mingwei and Co.

Cat’s friend arrived shortly and the 3 of us spent a great deal of time discussing the details of her wedding dinner coming end of month, since I would be doing what I dread most — on stage, as an emcee.

I was getting some drinks for them when she came into the kitchen, and started to ask something, ‘I want to ask you…. eh, I forgot what I wanna ask.’

I sensed what it was and almost completed the sentence for her, ‘SBB related?’

Before I could spit that out, she launched, ‘Oh! I wanna ask you about SBB!’

Tsk.

Why nobody asks me about Janice, FF, Vamptress, Jane Doe, Raf or other people I met up with huh?

The rehearsal erupted into a drama display of Kenneth’s(her ex-classmate) and my talents.

It was almost like some drama skit, and we even recited the KFC and McDonald’s menu with such zest, emotions and passion.

The pregnant lady laughed too hard from our brilliant display of wits, poise and drama that her tummy ached.

She will definitely have a happy baby. *beams*

Whee! I can’t wait.

***

I have an evil thought.

I am thinking that I should either go foodless for the next one week, or that I should just induce-vomit after every meal for the next one week.

Just to spite the old lady at home.

Maybe then, would she be appeased.

But no, I love my food too much to give it up.

SBB‘s response?

Hmm, lose 5 kg and you would be okay. Don’t do it for a week. 5 days would suffice.

So encouraging.

Muahahaha.

Okay. This post is a tad too warped.

Please do not take the grosteque details too seriously, cos they were never meant to be.

Peace.

***

Having bad tummy and feeling extremely pukish.

This is no good.

No good.

Argh.

Tuesday evening. The house phone shrilled.

What are you doing, Sweetie?

Nothing much.. Watching television, feeling lazy and lethargic.

Why don’t you go out?

*Whines*

Haha, why are you whining?

*Hmph*

Why you hmph?

I don’t know.. just feeling darn lazy. I don’t feel like doing anything. I don’t feel like reading, I don’t feel like blogging, I don’t feel like MSNing, I don’t feel like surfing.. Argh! I don’t know what I want to do. I just don’t feel like doing anything.

Shagging?

………. LAME. Then again, that might do the trick.

(Joke, of course, if you didn’t get it.)

Ooo, sounds good. I like.

*Roll eyes* Yeah, right. Maybe I should go jogging.

You have been saying that for the umpteenth time.

Hmphf. -ignoring the putdown- Maybe I should jog to Holland Village. Yeah, I should do that.

-Very encouragingly- HA! HA! HA! -high-pitched mock- Yeah, why not you do just that and I will meet you there?

Really? You always don’t mean what you say. As if I would believe you.

-Holding back his chuckles- Yeah, I will meet you there and we would go for a drink if you REALLY jog there.

Why?! You doubt me right? Okay, fine! I will go prepare and jog there.

Fine, gimme a call when you leave the house then. Ha! Ha!

Okay, if I really do jog there and you don’t come down to Holland Village, you will owe me 10 bucks.

What do I stand to gain if I do turn up?

Coffee’s on me.

Steady. -Stifling laughters- Like I said, call me before you leave home, and call me again when you are 30 minutes from Holland Village.

Cool. Bye Sweetie.

Alright, bye Sweetie.

15 minutes later, VampTreSS called to ask if I would like to meet her for coffee with Airhole.

Feeling a tad skeptical about the genuinity of SBB‘s offer, I set up a contingency plan and managed to convince them enough to meet at Holland Village instead.

20 minutes later, I was clad in a Reebok top over my Adidas sports bra, and a pair of Adidas tights that would be comfortable enough to bring me through the jog.

Took a coin pouch and stuffed my ATM card into it, along with some notes, and my key.

Travel light.

Stuffed the phone and coin pouch at the waistband of my tights, clad my feet in my pink socks, slotted them into my Nike sneakers, and bundled my crowning glory into a dainty ponytail, secured by hairclips.

I dialed for SBB.

Yo! Am heading out of the house now. You better keep your end of the bargain. -Smirk-

You really gonna jog to Holland Village?!

Yup! Am dressed already.

-With a tinge of belittling- I would still meet you for coffee even if you are not jogging down.

…. -Speechless- Anyway, since I am already all geared up, might as well.

Okay fine. Call me 5 and half hours later, half an hour before you reach then.

………….. -Silently cursing- I don’t need take 6 hours to reach there lor! Just gimme 2 to 3 hours. Muahahahaha.

Really? -Contempt- We shall see. So you really are jogging?

Yeap! Then? What else do you think? -defiantly-

Haha, why do I think you would end up taking a bus or cab? So you jogging back too?

I won’t cheat! And I am not an idiot! Of course I ain’t jogging back. You want me to die is it?

Need me to give you a lift?

That’s sweet, but it’s alright sweetie, I can make my own way back later. Not very convenient for you either.

Okay, just be careful and gimme a call later.

Alrights. Ciao.

A few minutes later, I was down at the lobby, doing some light warm up, before embarking on a seemingly mission impossible.

I had contemplated taking the route I once took last year, but when I reached the bridge, it looked a tad too scary with its dimmed park lights, without a soul in sight.

Thus, I decided to follow the silly MRT tracks.

Besides a bundle of Bangladeshi workers in my sight along the on the otherwise solitary lanes, there were only eerie trees and pitch-black darkness of jungles on my left as I ventured on my quest.

The only flats that were in sight, were those of Clementi.

From Chinese Garden, to Jurong East, to Chevrons, to Clementi Fire Station. Then, from Clementi flats, to Dover, to Buona Vista.

Finally, Holland Village beckoned.

I awed myself.

My stamina plunged to an obscene level.

I blame it on the fact that my legs had to carry a heavier load of lards these days.

I just couldn’t seem to have that light-weight feel throughout.

My lungs threatened to squeeze the life out of me, and I was.. almost… dying. *pant pant*

I finally called SBB to tell him I might make it to Holland Village in half an hour’s to an hour’s time, after more than an hour of jog and *cough* brisk walking.

To my amazement! I reached Holland Village 15 minutes later, and I took around one and half hour to reach instead of the 2 hours I set for myself.

Yay!

I am so proud of myself! *Smirk*

(SBB on the phone now: I am proud of you too, Sweetie. In which I replied: Cut it. What’s the jibe? No jibe. No jibe? That’s new.)

Weird thing is, it is 7.30am in the morning right now, and I still don’t feel an ounce of muscle ache.

Wheee!

(SBB cursed that I would feel it once I hit the sacks and wake up later)

I was puffing and panting, in a hue of scarlet when I finally reached to find Airhole and Vamp at the coffeeshop of Holland Village.

I didn’t know Airhole had the fetish for sweaty, smelly, panting ladies, as he insisted it was a sexy sight.

(And that 2 idiots had the audacity to tell me later on that it was because sports bra has erm, less coverage, and thus….. certain spots were pretty erected. -gasp in absolute horror-)

Coincidentally, the 3 Musketeers of blogosphere, Mrbrown, Miyagi and James Seng were there plotting to take over the galaxy too.

I went over to say a quick hi, still out of breath(yes, they took my breath away too), before joining Vamp and Airhole.

SBB arrived shortly after.

He raised a brow, touched my arms and back, and insisted I wasn’t sweaty. And that I didn’t look tired enough.

He declared me a bluff.

He insisted I took a cab down.

He even asked why I was vain enough to put on make up.

????!!!

Who would jog with make up on?! And who would still have make up intact after jogging?!

Natural flush alright?

It was then the 2 kind elderly spoke up for me to verify that I was indeed sweaty and scarlet when I reached.

HMPH!!!!! TRYING TO ERASE MY EFFORTS RIGHT?! TRYING TO DISCREDIT MY ACHIEVEMENT RIGHT?!

@^#!$#!$!@#$!^%$#@!

I walkedjogged there! Without cheating!

I didn’t, and don’t cheat!

Such audacity!

Ask my torn knee ligament, and it would tell you of the stress as it endured the shock of my XX(confidential)kg of lard.

Ask my right foot’s middle toe, and it would tell you of its misery as its neighbour’s nail pricked into it as I bounced off the cement pavement.

I pouted, sulked, stared and glared(playfully, of course) until I did enough to convince him of my genuine efforts.

He acknowledged it.

Yay.

Next time, I shall conquer Orchard. *Beams*

***

I had not had any proper meal prior to my jog, and was starting to feel a tad hungry.

Decided to get a sandwich from Breko, in which SBB offered his company.

As we strolled down to Breko by the route of the carpark, his hand made a grip for mine, and surprised me as he held me close for the first tongue exchange for the night.

Mmm.. Nice.

Until..

Eeewww! What’s that smell?

Huh?

Ah! I know. It’s you!

ME?! Really meh?!

Yah! It’s YOU.

*Sniff sniff*

He pretended to back off and jumped away.

It’s not me! It’s the blardy rubbish chute.

To which, he gave a cheeky laugh then did I realise he was pulling my leg.

Grrrr…………..

And pulling me leg, he did.

He thought I was having leg cramp and made a grab for my right leg, and as usual, I retaliated by trying to kick him where it might hurt most.

Anyone knows any assassin for hire?

Sat at Breko to wait for a blardy long time for my sandwich to be done.

So long that when I finally got back to the coffeeshop, Airhole asked if the ‘scenery was -cough- breathtaking‘.

Someone had to play it up by leaning forward to touch the corner of my lips, pretending to rub away something that was never there, ‘Oh sweetie, you missed a spot here.‘

……….

Did I mention how much I hate cockroaches and how they make me hyperventilate?

I swear I could have fainted and died when I saw one of them scrambling towards my direction multiple times throughout the night.

Evil one.

God! Why did You create cockroaches?

Then again, if You create someone as loathesome as SBB.. I can totally understand the existence of pests.

Ah well.

To make my life more miserable, right?

***

The very nice Airhole offered Vamp and I a lift home, and it ended the rather interesting night, with an array of nice songs playing in his car.

It was an almost melancholy setting.

And Mr Airhole, I just would like to let you know what a fabulous company you are when you are sober, and that, I do really like you as a pal.

You’re nice. Really nice.

Despite of the jibes that came pouring my way from the 3 of you.

Not because of the lift, definitely.

Something else.

Coffee sometime soon.

***

The sudden harsh growl of thunder evoked the fear once again.

I instinctively screamt down the phone.

The poor chap had to endure such shit from me and yet graciously offered assurances to sooth the timid one. Poor thing.

2 phobias in a night, I confronted.

I am a bundle of nerves.

Best part? I was on webcam for the first time with him too when the husky roar of the sky teased.

I was almost reluctant to shower for the night(after all the jogging?!) or bringing in the laundry.

That must have been an ugly sight. Eek.

***

Interestingly, the night progressed and he slowly morphed into the sulkish and whiney one. His babyish ‘teyh‘ were quite hilarious.

(So cute)

‘I want to sulk.’

‘I need a hug.’

‘No! I WANT a hug.’

Oh well, the 5 and half hour of phone call continued till 10 minutes ago with a great deal of time spent on pacifying and babying the out-of-character one.

So I shall just wrap this up since I am in need of sleep too.

Interestingly, the jog perked my consciousness up and I feel so energetic that I still feel I have enough to spare for another entry.

I must be mad.

But my mind isn’t working well with the sleep deprivation and is losing its sharpness. I can’t seem to recall much else for the night.

So before I type anything silly and incoherent, I shall bid you guys good night.

Or rather, morning to those who are at work right now.

Hurhurhur.

Eh, wait.

He’s on the phone again.

So, erm, sleep is postponed.

The rattles on the window panel was soft, calm, and steady. One beat a second.

It was just seconds before the rhythm picked up its pace, and the soothing percussions kept up a swift, melodious clatter.

The sky ended its day-long of soft growls, and the threats concluded with realisation.

It’s a storm out there, at dusk.

Most probably, by the time this post comes to a halt, it wouldn’t be dusk anymore, and the cosy rain would cease.

But, this is the moment.

***

It wasn’t a smooth weekend with the dad, but since he’s away in Indonesia, I am glad to have a break.

Was slightly affected and had wanted to clam up to myself for the weekend.

It depressed me slightly.

What could be a worse start to the week?

Answer: To have a bumpy Monday with the mum.

She asked why is it that hard to communicate with me, and I gave her an impatient rebuttal that the feelings are very much mutual.

She gets on my nerves with her redundant questions, warped theories, and the lack of common sense to get my points.

She asked in exasperation what is it that I want her to ask when I ranted at her to stop asking me moronic, pointless(yes, I implied that in Mandarin) questions which irk me incessantly.

She thinks I am the weirdo whom everyone has problem communicating with.

That is, after my primary school teacher told her and dad that I was ‘weird’ 12 years ago.

It daunted her, cos she felt it was disgraceful to have a weird child, and she could never quite let it go.

She harped on the fact endlessly, and used it as a weapon to hurt when she deemed necessary.

Yeap. Try having attention deficit, constant rowing parents that fought endlessly, going through physical abuse, the inability to deal with asphyxiating pressure, and a child with sensitive natures would certainly become melancholy.

I certainly did wish my form teacher back then would fathom that and not brand me that way.

But the problem is, my dad had given up communicating with her a long time back, cos she just doesn’t get it, and her paranoia rubbed him off the wrong ways.

I got tired of phone checks of ‘You at home ah?’(if I answered the house phone, of cos I am at home what!) ‘What you doing?’ ‘Eaten?’ ‘What you eat?’ ‘How much ah?’ ‘So expensive’ ‘Seen your dad?’ ‘Did you guys have dinner together?’ ‘What time he met up with you?’ ‘Only 2 of you?’ ‘What time he left?’ ‘He got tell you where he going?’ ‘He got tell you anything?’…

I gave up totally when she kindly told me to try to get more money from my dad cos he is getting old, and I should start milking his money save up just in case anything happens to him.

Okay, fine. To be fair, I haven’t seen her for months, and it’s just natural for her to be yearning to see me, but I get irritated easily when she would just stare at my face and tell me how my zits/rash are horrid, and start commenting from my nose, to my brows to my whatever.

Your arms very fat hor?

You last time slimmer right?

Eh, you dye your hair ah? The colour not very nice, you know.

You get the picture.

Best part?

Once, she was just sitting at the dining table when I had my head bow, indulging in the homecooked food.

Her?

She suddenly blurted, ‘Eh Ting! Why your nose suddenly like taller huh? Did you go for plastic surgery?‘

I….

I shall not mention how I wanted to wring her neck despite her being my mum.

I need to build up patience.

Yes, *breathe in* I must.

Still, I love her.

In a warped way, I supposed.

***

The weekend came, and went, fast.

The weather is kinda sucky, and I have so much waiting laundry piling up.

Was a boring Saturday and had wanted to run some errands for Sunday.

Planned for a short trip to Jurong Point, and it was such a blardy warm day that I was almost baked well done in the sweltering heat.

I was sweaty, smelly. Hair dishevelled, clad in slippers, a jersey top, and some auntie-ish cargo pants.

Total discomfort with myself.

Mr Wheelie KingWangwang(he still insists this is his real, full name, but I am skeptical!) messaged to ask if I would like to have dinner together, since his girl, Joanne(who happened to work in same office as me some months back, talk about coincidence!) was sleeping and there wasn’t food at home.

Since I was heading down, he joined me for a quick dinner, before he headed home whilst I pampered myself with an express manicure, and browse the books again.

The girl who did my manicure was a friendly girl who seems awkward with herself. She had this slight slouch, messy hair, bad complexion.

Somehow reminded me of myself. One of those who doesn’t fit in. Uncertainty, a bundle.

She did an awful job when clipping my nails, hands shaking, jagged edges, rough handling of my hand.

But she redeemed herself when she held each of my finger preciously, comparing each meticulously just to make sure they are straight and even when she was filing them.

Maybe because no one wanted to be her friend, and as I tried to make her feel okay, she started to say a lot of things of irrelevance, jokes that weren’t funny, and her speech showed her ignorance of the world.

She even watched me on the phone with SBB, waiting for me to finish, so the moment I hung up, she could continue as if there was never a pause.

I liked her. Her enthusiasm. Her air of innocence. And I joined in with things of irrelevance, agreeing with what she said about the trivialities of life.

She spoke like a child. And I replied her like I would to my young students I once taught.

She made an impression.

***

Over dinner, a cute conversation followed.

Wang: Eh, so what happened to you and Philip? Thought you guys were together for quite some time?
Ting: Would have been 4 years. Eh! Why bringing up the old topic again? Break up a year already you know?

Wang: So what you doing after this?
Ting: Running errands.
Wang: What is errands?
Ting: Huh? E-R-R-A-N-D?
Wang: What is that?
Ting: !!!!! *giggles*

Was having dinner, looking my worse, when I saw a familiar face staring at me curiously.

***

‘Oh no! You ruin my reputation again!‘

‘!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!‘

*curse curse swear swear*

‘How I know? I always seem to bump into your friends when I am looking my worst. With different guys somemore. Next time I must ask my cutest friends out instead. Muahahaha.‘

Yeap, I bumped into SBB’s friend again, this time at Jurong Point, the very same one I bumped into more than a week ago.

Eee yer, very embarrassing for you right?

Next time I shall make myself look worse in front of your friends.

Hmph.

***

I had wanted to write something over the weekend. Something fictional.

But the heavy schedule made it almost impossible.

Interestingly, the fantasy imaginery plot took place, and came true.

*Ting flaunts a satisfied smirk*

***

It was an early night for me on Saturday, but the rash still did not go away for Sunday, and it took a plunge for the worse when I stepped into the sizzling sun, and it came back to haunt me, doubly worse.

And well.

Did some last minute packing, before I headed out, to meet VampTreSS, and her friend at Raffles Place.

Supposed meeting time?

2pm.

So, it was postponed to 2.30pm.

I was out of my place at 2.20pm, hailed a cab, and was informed the time was delayed till 2.45pm.

At 2.45pm, when I called up the perpetual late latest comer, she told me she would be heading out in 15 minutes time, and would be taking a cab.

Since she stays around town area, I thought it would be pretty swift for her.

At 3.45pm, I tried calling her, but she didn’t pick up.

I looked around for cameras to see if I had been Punk’d or some sort.

At 4, she finally called back to say she had her hands full, thus couldn’t answer her phone and would be reaching in 5 minutes time.

I finally saw the darling.

*Shudders*

I will make a mental note not to be early on time the next time round. Muahahaha.

***

But by the time we met up with her friend, the piercing sun rays ceased and the sky was crowded with clouds.

Not very inducive for the shots they had planned to do.

Interesting evening.

Maybe, I would blog about the tiring, yet interesting account of the day after they finished editing the pictures, which probably would take a while.

Initially, we thought it would end around evening time.

VampTreSS’ pal and his girlfriend succumbed to the fatigue at around 10.30pm, and VampTreSS and I continued on with the shoot till 1am.

Talk about excessive energy.

***

I would very much want to write on, but I am feeling the fatigue sapping up my energy.

Will write more yesterday.

Seriously, thanks for everyone who reacted kindly and positively since the untwirling of Ting.

I still feel kinda weird though.

Heh, still, you guys made my days.

But, is it crazy or what?!

Over 70 comments!

You guys are mad!

How do I keep the number of comments around this figure?

It just doesn’t make sense if this post has less than 10 comments.

*Cough*

Alright. Am too tired to go on.

Tomorrow, shall update.

With a boring dose of SBBism. (Yawn)

Out.

The time has come.

Have been waiting for this day for quite a while.

Happy birthday, Doc.

And thanks for the surreal memories.

Okay, besides that, I just have this penchant for the date 9th September.

No particular reason. No idea why either.

***

I finally finished my Jeffery Deaver, and was bored enough to venture to Jurong Point to get more reads to tide my weekend over.

As I emerged from the MRT, I couldn’t help but darted my head in all directions, just to see if I would notice any weird carriers with human parts in them.

We can never be too complacent now, can we?

Darn, my paranoia couldn’t help but act up after reading about the ghastly news earlier this noon.

For once, I picked a genre of books I had never attempted – Chick literature.

With the recommendation from Jane Doe, I bought the best seller by Sophie Kinsella.

Still, I found it hard to resist the temptation of yet another thriller, and succumbed to John Harvey, as I tried to get myself acquainted with a wider variety of authors.

Thus far, Jeffery Deaver had done enough to make an impression.

Coincidentally, the television aired The Bone Collector just last week. I had overlooked that he was the one who wrote the Lincoln Rhyme series.

I had an insatiable urge to shop for stuffs to pamper myself, but after darting in and out almost all the shops in the huge mall, I only managed to get 2 books, and cans of stewed tomatoes for the kitchen.

That’s all.

That’s sad.

No perfume, no skincare, no clothes, no accessories, no food, no nothing!

Dad called to asked me out for dinner since he would be flying off to Indonesia, thus he picked me up from where I was before I did anymore damage to my assets.

Wait a minute. What assets? Duh.

Quaintly enough, I met Jim and the Prudential guys again at Jurong Point, just like how I bumped into them on Monday when I was buying books, too.

Gee, they are all around, aren’t they?

***

So, 9th September.

Birthday of cute doc.

A severed head was found at Orchard MRT.

River Valley announced it would offer Integrated Programme next year.

Bulk of my foul memories were from there.

And my 599th post.

What else?

Hmm.

Ever since this blog started 3 years ago, many had speculated the reason behind why I refused to reveal my face, and chose to distort my pictures instead.

Some of the speculations:

Why? Got cleft lip is it?

Why? Think you very pretty? Some sort of celebrity huh?

Why? Wanna publicity stunt to keep the air of mystery so will keep your readers gripped to your blog huh?

Why? Owe loanshark money huh?

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?!

Alright.

Lemme clear it up once and for all.

I didn’t grow up with abundant confidence, and it was purely inferiority complex and insecurity that made me hide behind the warped pictures, though I had wanted to share moments of my life with whoever reading.

Try growing up with people telling you that you are ugly all the time, and that could make comments on the exterior, a tad sensitive.

I don’t like the comments on the way I look, thus I didn’t want to subject myself to it, knowing how harsh people words are behind the shields of ‘anonymous’ or unestablished identities.

Hence, when the pictures of mine in that nursey uniform was free-for-all to see on the Newpaper site, it wasn’t quite pleasant, but there’s nothing much I could do about it.

I learnt to take it in my stride.

I used to be so anal about my friends posting my pictures on their site/friendster/wherever that I would make a big fuss till I made them promise to get it covered or some sort.

I particularly hated it when people would come up to me and tell me smirkly, ‘Oh! I managed to get your picture. HURHURHUR.‘

Declaration of victory? I silently cursed that they would go to hell and wondered what’s the freaking big deal.

More often than not, the critiques would go on behind and go ‘Chey…. I still thought what..‘

I silently cursed somemore that they would start balding, get horrible body ordours, and their genitals will rot. Badly.

It took me a relatively long time to come to terms with myself throughout my growing years, till this very day.

Which sadly, I still have quite a journey to venture before I could spare more grace for myself.

Nonetheless, I had made myself pals whom I love, and had accepted me for the flawed being I am.

And I slowly grew comfortable with myself.

I thus decided, that, whatever I blog, is for myself, and for them.

Once again, thank you, you peepz.

Quite some time back, I decided it doesn’t matter to me anymore.

Okay, fine, just a little.

I know it’s just human curiosity.

But seriously, there isn’t a ravishing beauty beneath those masks.

I mean, if you twirl Patricia Mok’s picture and leave the eyes visible, most probably you would get a very pretty picture, too.

All there is, is just an insecure being, that’s all.

Some time last year, someone sent me a very interesting collage of pictures.

This was most interesting cos he could have photoshopped 2 pictures, one with top half of my face, another with bottom half of my face, but he didn’t.

He chose to use the cubes at the side.

I thought the effect was pretty cool, and kept it till today.

I shall end the suspense.

Wassup everybody.

Nice meeting you, finally.

No more hiding.

So, lemme brief ya why the choice of this picture amongst all others.

I don’t want you guys to think that I mislead you guys into thinking I am some sort of gorgeous being, you see.

So, no photoshop, no makeup, no smile, no lippy even.

Very recent picture, taken just a couple of weeks ago.

Well, beside the bare hint of eyeliner, this is pretty much Ting in nude.

I am as imperfect as it can get. As plain as Jane.

If you think I have naturally rosy cheeks, it is just because they are hyper-sensitive, and break out in rash ever so often(like now *pouts*).

My lips are thick, but chapped. Pale, when there is no lipstick/gloss to illuminate them to their ‘suck-cock’ effects.

My brows weren’t shaped then, so a tad untidy.

My nose. Argh. Don’t let me go on how I hate the fact that it’s flat and small.

And the result of my clumsiness.

The distinct scar that I kinda like.

The indentation that found its way to my chin when I rolled down the stairs when I was a 4 year-old kid?

I still very much have the memories of that very day.

I had to make things worse by falling down the stairs again on a bus, when I was 8,or 9, or 10.

I am a klutz all along. *sulks*

So yeap. No one can accuse me for cheating/misleading/’bruffing’ with such a choice of picture, alright.

In fact, I feel a tad pressurised to be blogging this now, and I have no idea why. *Jitters*

Ah.

My first exposé.

Just like that.

And now, the growing years.

I think I was a gorgeous baby. But something changed along the way. *Laughs*

If you don’t think the above is cute, something is very wrong with you.

I think that was my last trace of feminity before something went haywire with my hormones in primary school.

Ha.

Ting, Primary 4, aged 10, in Hong Kong.

Aged 12. Skinny as a bamboo.

Yes, the famous pictures from Adelaide, as I proceed on to secondary 1.

If you hang out with me these days, and find my dress sense an embarrassment.. let’s just say it’s in the blood, all along.

Then, in secondary 4, I decided that if I couldn’t be pretty, I might as well sulk my days away.

Yes, I am the one 2nd from left.

Quite cool huh.

The rebel in me acted up at the end of secondary 4.

Gee, I looked like a butch, yes I know.

But I liked the hairstyle, and am tempted to cut my hair short, again.

I am incredibly lazy. Hence, some days I went to school without gelling my crew cut.

And I didn’t even care! Happily allow myself to be snapped at my worst.

Then the hair continued growing. This was me towards the end of secondary 4, when I returned to primary school to visit my ex-teachers.

Then, I bade Singapore goodbye.

London beckoned.

The picture I took for my bus pass couple of months after I settled down there.

It was one of the only pictures my ex-boyfriend, yes, that puppy love(long-distance one somemore), had of me.

Yah, I know, very sweet. Stop telling me that cos I can’t look that sweet now.

Alas! I ate a tad too much, and went through a 2nd bout of puberty.

Thunder thighs bloomed and pimples brewed.

The hair touched my shoulders.

And, the fats on my face piled on too. Muahahaha.

Tiffany and I, back then.

Celest and I, back then.

Sam, Tiffany, Celest, Me and Yaolong(my primary school friend who ended up with Celest when they met in England!) last November.

My schoolmates from Cambridge Tutors College.

Celest is from Taiwan. Tiffany is from JB, working in Singapore, and Sam, from KL, currently working in Guangzhou.

And here, Tiffany and I, on my birthday this year.

Yesh, sod it. I gained blardy loads of lard.

When I returned from UK, I was darn fair. I even crashed Hwachong’s orientation in 2000.

Took a picture with my secondary 4 classmate when he dropped by to play mahjong sometime then.

Later that year, I started teaching in Jurong West Primary School. The stint lasted a year.

Then, I rebonded my hair for the first time.

Don’t start. I know. Freaking sad that my trim waist no longer exists.

That was the last photographs of me, before I got my braces on.

I lost a tremendous amount of weight due to the painful metals.

And my hair was once THAT long.

Alright.

Squatting in the middle of nowhere at Yishun dam with my braces on. Heh.

This is how I would look over a squatting toilet, too.


This was taken sometime before my braces were off, when Philip took me to Marina South to ride the KTM200, illegally.

Shhhh.

Hehe.

Look at the freaking, blardy, nahbehly flat tummy!

Lord! What did I do to be so fat these days?!

Okay, fine. I know, I ate a tad too much.

%@#^$!#$!#$!#! *grumble grumble curse curse*

I was almost 2-dimensional!

Tummitrim would pay me anytime to advertise for them!

What else.

When the braces are taken off, with spectacles, in casuals, makeupless, and severe sleep deprivation on our way up to KL for Church camp.

GOSH! I was once THAT slim.

Look at the tummy! No fats! Except for the protruding pelvic bones.

Now?

Ah well.

Enough of nightmare materials.

And quaintly, the time is 9.49pm.

So hello fellow mortals out there.

Once again, it has been a pleasure.

I ain’t sure if the feelings are mutual though.

Do say hi the next time you see me on the streets.

9th September.

A breakthrough.

Sorry for the disappointment, darlings.

Gee, what did I say about kooky posts eh?

Whee.

Parental Guidance advised.

When you are chatting with a bunch of malesluts wannabe over MSN, the use of webcam may prove to be a tad too kinky.

VampTreSS had wanted to know if my room was spacious enough for a shoot, and I was trying to let her have a glimpse of my humble haven by giving her a virtual tour.

VampTreSS says:
wait
VampTreSS says:
show me more of the floor
VampTreSS says:
so that i can see whether there is furniture blockin
VampTreSS says:
very dark ur cam
VampTreSS says:
everythin very reddish
VampTreSS says:
wah u damn nua
Tingism. says:
the lights make it reddish
VampTreSS says:
u bloggin from the bed
Tingism. says:
yes, I always do. Sorry but i m naked

Wait. I was under the duvet, alright, so I wasn’t flashing my titties at her. And yes, I blog from the bed, and my computer is right next to my bed.

VampTreSS says:
its ok
Tingism. says:
looks very scandalous
Tingism. says:
dun print screen and post on ur blog okay
VampTreSS says:
u very funny
VampTreSS says:
u just gave me evil idea
Tingism. says:
i look fat leh
VampTreSS says:
that idea didnt even pop up in my head in the first place loh!
VampTreSS says:
but thanks for giving me evil idea
VampTreSS says:
muhahahahahahahahha
Tingism. says:
NB. Wait mr sbb read, turn him on how?

Wait renew membership for OMM club again.

Joke, okay, joke.

Meanwhile, I was busy with another male-slut wannabe in another MSN window.

VampTreSS says:
hahahahahahahahaha!
VampTreSS says:
wat u gigglin bout?
VampTreSS says:
who u talkin to?
VampTreSS says:
slut! u flirting with other man rite??

I have friends who address me by the most affectionate terms, don’t I?

So, in some other window.. another conversation was held concurrently, thus the delayed response to Vamp.

FF says:
hAHAHHAH i wanna see your titties
Tingism. says:
NO!
Tingism. says:
small
FF says:
hahahahahhaaaaaaaaaa
FF says:
SHOW ME YOUR TITTIES!!!!!
FF says:
FUCKING FLASH ME!!
FF says:
come on baby
Tingism. says:
NOOO
FF says:
spread your legs for me

And I did. Under the duvet, of course.

Tingism. says:
spreaded.
Tingism. says:

FF says:
i can’t see shit
Tingism. says:
of cos la! for u to see meh!?
FF says:
ah bo?

Finally, the siege ended when I had to get ready, get dressed for supper.

I have wonderful friends, I do.

I now, fear, that they might one day rape me.

And no, I can guarantee you guys that SBB had never seen me on webcam before, so stack that sleazy suspicion out of your minds, alright?

Quoting the below from a site with information on depression, an old, intimate friend of mine.

If you are depressed at the moment some of the following symptoms may sound familiar:

• You feel miserable and sad.
• You feel exhausted a lot of the time with no energy .
• You feel as if even the smallest tasks are sometimes impossible.
• You feel very anxious sometimes.
• You don’t want to see people or are scared to be left alone. Social activity may feel hard or impossible.
• You find it difficult to think clearly.
• You feel like a failure and/or feel guilty a lot of the time.
• You feel a burden to others.
• You sometimes feel that life isn’t worth living.
• You can see no future. There is a loss of hope. You feel all you’ve ever done is make mistakes and that’s all that you ever will do.
• You feel irritable or angry more than usual.
• You feel you have no confidence.
• You spend a lot of time thinking about what has gone wrong, what will go wrong or what is wrong about yourself as a person. You may also feel guilty sometimes about being critical of others (or even thinking critically about them).
• You feel that life is unfair.
• You feel that life has/is ‘passing you by.’
• You may have physical aches and pains which appear to have no physical cause, such as back pain.
• You seldom enjoy the things that you used to enjoy-you may be off sex or food or may ‘comfort eat’ to excess.
• Having more energy as the day progresses.
• Sleeping too much or too little.
• You seem to dream all night long and sometimes have disturbing dreams.

Oh no, I had went through practically every thing in the list in the past 2 weeks!

*GASP IN ABSOLUTE HORROR*

Shucks! I must be down with depression.

*Covers mouth in shock*

Hey wait a minute.

That was, *quick count on fingers*, 2 weeks back, oh, pre-menstrual.

I can guarantee you I am not the only one.

I attribute those in bold and black to PMS.

Yeah, must be.

And darlings, yes, PMS is THAT potent, ya know?!

Phew.

But!

I am off…… sex food. Eating so much lesser these days.

Yet, when I do, I gorge myself silly, mindlessly, excessively and horribly.

And yes, I have more energy as the day progresses, peaking in the wee hours at night.

Sleeping too much? OH DEAR OH DEAR. I sleep a consistent 12 hours for the past few days!

I had trouble pulling myself out of bed today cos I just wanna sleep on, and on and on.. and on.. and on..

Oh no, something is very wrong.

And the part about the dreams?

*Checks back past posts*

Oh gosh! Oh no! Oh my God! Oh dear!

What to do?! What to do?!

*Bites nails neurotically*

I need a shrink.

*Hyperventilating*

So, there will be more kooky posts from the temporarily insane one to come.

*Click of tongue*

Stay tuned.

*Wink*

Something in the British tabloids:

Come on, you deads..

FANS of Manchester United are flocking to book their FUNERALS at Old Trafford.

Club bosses have given a firm of undertakers permission to stage final send-offs at the stadium.

Funeral director Rosie Grant, 35, who clinched the deal, said yesterday: “We’ve had an incredibly good response from families wanting this kind of service.

“Fans can be buried in their Man U shirt with a coffin decked out in United colours — and given a send off to the tune of Glory, Glory Man United.” The services will be held in a suite overlooking the hallowed turf.

But Rosie, who runs an “alternative funerals” firm called Natural Endings, stressed: “Obviously, the burial or cremation would take place elsewhere.”

So, who’s gonna arrange to freight me over?

Burial, please.

Heh.

I had strange dreams today.

Many, many of them.

Dreams that upset me enough that I felt nothing but misery whenever I struggled to pry my eyes open.

(Not that I don’t want to blog, just that a call just came in to disrupt the flow, yet again)

Dreams that woke me up at 12, 1, 2 and 3 in the noon.

12 noon – Agitated.

1pm – Grumpy.

2pm- Frustrated.

3pm- Aaaarrrrrrrgggghhhhhhhh.

Dreams that disturbed me.

Dreams that affected me so much that I was frowning a tad too much in my sleep.

Dreams that could potentially ruin my day.

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. 4 times in a row.

I buried my head under my baby pillow, and forced myself to get back to sleep, feeling great reluctance to confront those horrid feelings.

By the time I finally woke up at 4pm, I was glad to find all those negativities had dissipated, and was claimed by a wave of calmness.

Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?

Carry on sleeping until you wake up on the correct side then.

If you can afford the time to, that is.

Now, I shall shun thoughts of those dreams, lest they would screw up my emotions further.

And I should feel good, cos I found my darling Bubblemunche again.

***

My weekend was nothing short of being a mediocre one.

I very much wanted to blog, but there just wasn’t anything intriguing for me to be blogging about.

Then again, it was just my lame excuse for spending my days reading incessantly.

I had finished 2 books over the weekend, and am concluding the very one I am indulging in over the brief start of the week.

I would dart towards the book lying right next to me on the pillow with each introduction to the days, and by the time I lifted my gaze from the book, it would probably be the indication that daylight was fading.

My newest read is a compilation of short stories from Jeffery Deaver, which is kinda refreshing cos the only short stories I would read, were that of Yi Shu’s, which is of a total different language.

I would say I enjoy every bit of that, thus far. Which is pretty much beyond my expectations. But it is thrilling to be guessing the unexpected swerves of storylines towards the end as you grasp the author’s style of thoughts along the way.

Cool.

One interesting fact about my reads.

I had never read a single English romance novel, ever. Not even erotica.

For a die-hard romantic like me, that seems like an unpardonable sin.

***

Let’s take a glimpse of what happened over the weekend. Ready for a big yawn?

Early night for me on Friday, I slept at 4am.

Saturday – Woke up after 9 hours of sleep, at 1pm.

Did a bit of reading, chat to VampTreSS for a little while.

Napped at 3pm, and continued the day at 6pm.

Read. Read. Read. Took a walk to buy some groceries. Had dinner. Read. Read. Read. MSN.

Slept at 4am.

Sunday – Horror of horrors, despite all the intensive rest I had the day before, I woke up at 4pm.

12 hours.

I picked up the book and continued reading.

Read. Read. Read.

MSN.

Didn’t go anyway due to the lack of fund.

Actually, it was due to my procrastination that I didn’t cash my cheque, and was left penniless for the weekend, thus, not able to head anywhere.

How fun a weekend it was for Ting!

I feel like a geek, suddenly.

But seriously, as long as you are enjoying your time indoors, it doesn’t really matter where you are spending your weekends.

***

He was the only sign of life in the sedated carpark.

I beamed, a tad bashfully, as the lone figure swaggered towards me, threw his arm round me, closing in to plant that customary, wet greeting smooch.

His touched tingled. I felt the smoothness of his lips and delighted in the way they soothed.

Mmmmm.

A clash of sensations.

***

I took a peek of the reflection right before us as we strutted into the lift, with him following behind.

I followed his focal point and he was giving an once-over for my rear.

‘You lost weight again, didn’t you?‘

I browsed the reflections for an obvious hint of weight-loss.

Perhaps.

We barely entered the hallway, when he cornered me to the wall of the corridor that leads to my room.

In the darkness, I could still make out the intensity of his gaze, before it prompted a round of passionate tongue-war.

I could feel his lips tracing down the side of my neck, as I tightened my grip round his back.

As the passion ceased below the dangerous level, we halted too look at each other once more.

‘Hello stranger,’ I gave a wry smile.

‘Hi, sweetie,’ he replied, as his hands roamed slightly, sensually, unhurriedly.

‘You did lose weight,‘ a sudden twist of topic eased the tension.

‘I certainly hope so!‘ I laughed.

In sheer cheekiness, he remembered the time I blogged about how his strategically-placed hand made a compliment almost an insult, he slid his hand beneath my blouse, and rested it right where it shouldn’t be.

He chuckled as he said, ‘Ah! You lost weight!’

I smacked his hand playfully, and gave a mock menacing look as I pushed his body away from mine, ‘I so saw that coming, you idiot.’

I pouted slightly, and he refused my attempt, by drawing me close yet again, with his right hand on my left waist, ‘How about this? You did lose weight, again.‘

This time, he spoke with a quiet charm.

‘That’s better.’ I tried to stifle my satisfied grin.

I was appeased.

***

I listened on attentively as he prepared for shower, holding on to the documents he brought from work.

He rattled on as he concluded a busy weekend at work, and handed the stuffs to me, as I browsed the pages.

I smiled. Cos I was happy for him.

Looking at myself, and how my work pass is once again rejected, makes me once again, doubt myself.

Suddenly, my focal point strayed to the bushy mess above his eyes.

‘Sorry to interrupt, sweetie, but your brows are a tad messy, aren’t they? Maybe you should get them plucked or something.‘

He looked at me with utter flabbergastion and uttered, ‘I thought you always comment it is a gay thing to do?! And you’re suddenly showing support for it?‘

I giggled and realised how ironic my words must have sounded.

Must be the influence of the metrosexual males I have met these days, and I thought it should be pretty nice.

Or perhaps, reading how Elizabeth had coerced her beau to do so put that thought in me.

I made fun of his poohbear-like brows, and earned myself a good treat of tickles which nearly killed me as I battled to catch my breaths in between giggles and calls for truce.

***

He leaned in close and the lights went off.

The lingering headache I had before had dispersed.

Details to our trysts?

You don’t have to know.

Such a teaser, eh?

Am not, really.

***

I have a painful cut/scratch that’s annoying the hell outta me.

Ouch. Ouch.

Painful.

Excruciating.

Fret not. I have high threshold for pain.

Thanks to Mom.

Now, I can write a book on ‘How to fake that it doesn’t hurt‘.

Alas, there’s some stuffs I can fake, some stuffs I can’t.

*Ting throws a wink at Jane Doe*

***

‘Can you fall asleep before I do? So that you won’t hear my snores this time round?‘ I pleaded in my semi-conscious state, and yes, threw in that babyish drawl, too.

It took me 3 seconds upon finishing the sentence to fall asleep in his embrace just as we caught the first glimpse of dawn.

And no, I didn’t ask if he slept before I did, or not.

***

It wasn’t something within my expectations.

Not especially he had never attempted it since that day of the fateful stolen kiss that cost me 2 bucks.

Wooo. Pleasant surprise? Ha!

Quite frankly, it was blardy freaking nice.

Gee, what the hell am I saying?

Queen of crypts.

Oh, I ain’t saying.

Really, I won’t say.

Ah, I bet you guys are curious, no?

Laughs.

***

I felt his contracting grasps as he closed in from behind in the midst of my sleep, and I roused slightly.

I turned to face the deep-in-sleep him, shifted forward a little and groggily etched a peck on his forehead, tip of nose, and slightly parted lips.

His lips wavered slightly and puckered a little in response as if he was aware of it.

I loosened myself from his firm embrace, crawled out of the bed with my eyes stubbornly closed, and headed for a toilet break.

As I climbed onto the bed again, his duvet-wrapped body was strewn across. He had monopolised my side of the bed as I returned.

What’s with guys? All the guys I know are capable of such.

I scurried to the other side of the bed, and settled myself there.

The task at hand, was to tuck myself comfortably beneath the duvet, which he had rolled himself in.

I pulled, jerked, picked, hauled, towed and tugged, before I could get hardly enough to cloak my shivering bare body.

As if sensing a change of sides of my presence, I sensed the sleeping log shifting towards his right, and closing in, wrapping his arms around, as I clung to my side, lest he kicked me off the bed.

His hand was grabbing roaming anywhere it could, even while he was snoozing, totally unconscious.

Chest, hip, waist, crotch neck, thigh, bum, abdomen….

Do I look like a pillow to you?!

I made a grab for his hand, knitted his fingers with mine, and snoozed on.

He woke up on the wrong side of the bed, quite literally.

‘Morning sweetie… why did you end up on the other side of the bed?‘ he slurred.

I should just capture it with the camera the next time round to illustrate why.

***

As I shut my eyes to laze in bed a little while more, it was almost cosy enough for me to extend my sleeping hours a tad more.

Until I felt the nuzzles down the side of my neck, as he nestled his face right under my jawline.

I purred slightly as I dwelled in the ticklish, poignant sensations.

The soft caresses ensued. The sensuous sweep of his hand.

Before long, he got up, pressed atop me, and scooped me into his arms for a long, intimate cuddle as I held him close.

Whee.

What a way to greet a new day.

***

I can’t help but suspect that we are both a tad warped and sadistic.

We sparred mentally and physically, yes.

Whoever who gets to the fridge first would end up giving the other the shock of his/her life by pressing the freezing can to the midriff.

It was no surprise that I was running round the hall, down the corridor and into the rooms just to dodge the evil one.

***

Monday was pretty interesting.

I met Diana in the train in the evening. She’s with Selina’s company(when I was helping Selina out).

I met Guozheng in the train, too. The Asia-Pacific Brewery marketing guy.

I once asked if he would wear a Liverpool jersey to work if I buy him one.

The die-hard Liverpool supporter asked why, and I pointed out the huge Carlsberg(rivals) that sits prominently on the jerseys.

I met Jim and the rest at Jurong East MRT station when I was shopping for grocery in the afternoon. They are from Mingwei’s company.

I met up with Janice, too. Everyone would know how we used to slog through the day doing PR and marketing together back then.

Those were the days.

So basically, I met everyone whom I had worked with before everywhere I went.

***

‘What will ya be doing?‘

‘I need to head down to the bank.‘

‘I give you a lift?‘

‘Alrighty.’

We ended up in Jurong East central on a hot and humid Monday afternoon(sheesh, I detest it when the sun gives me patches of rash), as we joined the obscene queue at UOB.

Cheques are such hassles.

Had lunch together, and my thoughts were with a friend.

I smiled sheepishly when he asked of my career plans.

I walked him to his bike, flung my arms round him as we kissed goodbye.

Errands to run.

***

I lugged my helmet around, and realised the poor helmet took a status downgrade when I used it as a supermarket basket or some sort.

It was the bookstore first, before I stopped by the supermarket.

I had been looking for the book The Closers, and Straight into Darkness, and I saw the hardcover former sitting dignantly on the bookshelf.

40 freaking bucks.

I couldn’t bear to part with that, and took more than half an hour to fight with my conscience as I pondered if I should make the purchase.

I didn’t.

I picked up Jeffery Deaver instead.

***

I was bugged by 2 people to do surveys as I was there.

Once, when I was walking into the bookstore.

Another, when I just emerged from there.

I laughed.

I knew what they were up to.

And I saw the familiar faces amongst them.

***

I rounded up some stuffs from the supermarket as he called.

I stuffed things I bought into my helmet, as if it was my grocery bag.

I like grocery shopping. It perks me up.

***

Got home in the early evening, and Janice called to ask if I would like to meet up.

We arranged to hit town together since I would want to do some shopping(this is what happens when cheques are cashed), and would meet at Chinese Garden MRT.

Town would favour VampTreSS too, since she resides near town.

***

We raved and bitched incessantly on the train, oblivious to the off-work crowd that left little room for fresh air in the cabin.

The occasional hard smacks on my thigh, the explosive giggles that peppered our silly talks drew curious stares onto the 2 *cough* gorgeous beings.

We wriggled out of the crowd when the train reached Bugis.

***

I noticed it, as it sat on the shelf.

Slightly surprised, I recognised it, after seeing it online a few times, and it was an image I was well-acquainted with.

2 weeks back, I placed an order for it, and I didn’t expect to find it so swiftly before the shipment came.

Off the shelves, it came, and off to the cashier, it went.

***

Dinner was at Pivdorf(hm, I seriously have no idea how you spell that) at Liang Seah street, a place an old acquaintance brought me to when I was 18.

She was 16 then, and her name is Kelly, if I am not wrong.

Our meeting was a bizarre one.

Apparently, her friend, is a friend of Zhengming’s, and had my student pass in her possession when she was caught by the police.

So, er, yah, my identification was in her possession, and was confiscated by some CID.

On my student pass, was a neoprint of Kelly.

So, somehow, we both went down to the police headquarters after the girl got in touch with us, to rid the girl off the suspicion of stealing my identification.

Er, yah.

I think the story was like that.

She brought me to this place for baked pasta after we finished with the interview and it was our first meeting.

We hit off well, and she went to China for studies after that.

We lost touch.

Anyway, I brought Janice to the eatery, and we both chatted and jibed over dinner, having a hellava quality time spent together.

Could have been.

***

SBB joined us shortly after.

Raf called to ask me about the coming MotoGP trip, and asked where I was.

Bugis, I answered.

‘ME TOO!‘ she gasped.

She joined us shortly after, too.

And I had missed the sweetheart after not seeing her for the longest time, and spunning her advances when she tried persuading me down to Zouk couple of weeks ago.

She gave a I’ve-read-so-much-about-you look when introduced to SBB for the very first time.

Before long, I was under the constant attacks of their silly jokes, some of which, deliberately so, just to make me blush.

‘Oh, this is so nice! Raf you should try!‘ gushed Janice.

‘What’s that?‘ Raf enquired.

‘Mango Gutin.‘

‘Huh? What mango protein?‘ Clueless me, as always.

‘Hello darling, are you having too much protein these days?‘ Janice mocked.

‘……….’ I rolled my eyes.

‘I caught that, actually.’ SBB flipped his phone as he ended the call, chipping in with a smirk.

Grrr…

My girl pals are such darlings.

And so, where is the silly VampTreSS?

***

‘Why did you ask me down for?‘

‘Oh ya, that reminds me…‘ the silly banters with the girlies slowed me down a little.

I dug into the depth of my bag, before whipping out the fresh purchase I made earlier on gleefully.

‘This is for you!‘ I flashed an impish grin.

He looked bewildered.

‘How… How did you know? I don’t remember telling you..‘

‘Cos I am smart, as always,’ I smirked. Of course I am.

‘Thanks sweetie. But.. but.. I got tell you meh?‘

Oh well. Fine.

He did mention he liked that sometime back. Well, not exactly, but I remembered he briefly brought it up before and I did some snooping around.

Just so happened that I chanced upon it that very day.

And the quaint thing was, he almost mentioned it again whilst over the phone in the noon, but I sensed the direction of the conversation heading towards it, and cut him off cleanly.

‘There’s this thing I wanna buy, but….‘

‘If there’s a but, then don’t buy.‘

Phew.

What’s with men and their memories?

You must be wondering what it is right?

But I ain’t saying.

Oh, there I go again.

Okay, fine, it’s an issue of Playboy magazine that comes together with this XXX VCD to aid his erectile dysfunction.

Kidding.

***

We adjourned to C.A.N. cafe down the row of shophouses, opting it for its cosy interior, which would allow the smokers to fag, and the prissy ladies to enjoy their air-condition, knowing how Janice dislikes sweating.

I am ever *cough* so considerate.

We stood up, heading out of the Continental Cuisine place as I followed behind the girls.

I felt a warm hand slithering up my waist, as he leaned down to plant a quick smooch, totally out of my expectations.

‘Thank you sweetie, that’s really sweet.‘

‘Welcome. Glad you like it.‘

Alas, the night took a nosedive.

***

He pulled me back to lean on him, with my head propped on his shoulder, on the large couch that housed the 2 of us.

His hand, reposed on my thigh.

Me, deep in thoughts, as much as I tried to hide it.

I looked across the table, to my right, where Raf was sitting, and where Janice would have sat.

The lonely cup of Honey Tea, abandoned, and untouched.

I tilted my head up, gazed at him, and he nodded forward for a quick, assuring peck, pressed against my lips.

***

‘Raf, Vamp,‘

I continued.

‘Vamp, meet Raf.‘

‘Where’s Janice?‘ VampTreSS hardly warmed her seat as she asked quizzically.

We all gave cryptic, and rather sheepish smiles.

‘Somebody fill her in,‘ I plonked myself back into the embrace of the sofa, shifting the responsibilities.

Ironically, the one who knew her the least, spoke up, sensing our reluctance to broach the subject.

‘She forgot her phone. The guys down at the restaurant passed it back to them. They hid it. She got upset. She didn’t touch her drink. She left the money on the table. She stood up. She said she was going off. She left.‘ SBB‘s answer was crisp, and touched the gists.

Yeap. The saga of the night was when we did the usual prank when someone misplaces his/her phone.

Which you might have already read about.

Which spoilt whatever great time we had shared earlier on.

Wrong move.

The tension in the air.

The awkwardness when everyone was trying to appease the situation but was snubbed.

We carried on the conversation, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

We didn’t probe further, not because we didn’t care, but because we didn’t want to press on the sensitive spots more than we already did.

We shared tales from the teaching days. Atrocious tales.

The little soft-spots we had for the weakest students.

Gushed over the cute, little ones, that made us almost sound paedophile-ish.

She left.

Not knowing what to say, to ease the moment, ‘I was dying from the tension. Can I quote the lines I always read? The tension was so thick that you could almost slice it with a knife…‘

‘Cut it,‘ SBB corrected.

We paused for the moment, to ponder for a while, and decided to close the subject matter.

It was something we could tolerate, and something we could understand.

But I am not sure if it was called for.

Perhaps, if the phone was really lost, it is meant to be.

No, I am not saying it in an attempt to rub it in, but because, I know how hard it was, when Philip lost his camera phone, that held so much of us, our past, our memories shortly after the relationship concluded.

It wasn’t my phone, but I felt the pinch.

Great pinch.

Perhaps, it was a clean break, a clean start.

Something prompted us to move on from there.

But is it worthwhile to lose control over someone who might not even care?

You have a group of friends who genuinely did, and perhaps, besides me, no one else had to take, put up, or went through with the entire awkwardness as you took it out on them.

But I guess, maybe they were not enough, in comparison to how precious he or the memories are, cos what they did wasn’t civil or sensitive enough.

I could have gotten upset over Mr Z4′s incident over at Sixth Avenue, cos you trusting a person you trust doesn’t mean I have to. But I decided since it was the truth, and that it was over, it wasn’t worth me fretting over it.

No, I am not saying this with anger, and don’t take it the wrong way.

I was deep in thoughts for most of the night, and as conversations with SBB continued over the phone, my mind was still with you, like it had been earlier in the day over lunch.

I wondered if the vast age gap between us is beginning to show the strain.

I remember this one tiny episode that happened some months ago.

You thought I wasn’t civil enough with my opinions, and it blew the fuse too.

I was giving an honest opinion, with the fear of you getting hurt.

Darling, remember the one thing you treasure most from your friends, is honesty.

I remember over drinks one night with a group of bloggers, you said you adore honesty and couldn’t stand people who put up pretenses.

That’s why we hit off well, you said.

But, how much honesty can you handle?

Selective? Partial?

And how much honesty can you come to terms with? Offer? To yourself even?

It’s not about judging. It’s not about criticising. It’s not about disapproving. It’s not about putting you down.

You knew it was never meant to be that way over that episode. I don’t mean it this way over this saga, either.

You knew it was your fierce denial.

And my untactfulness burst the bubble then, and perhaps set you into further denial this time round.

I can loan support for your decisions in life, as long as you are happy, because I know how stubborn you are when it comes to decision making.

So, I will support your decision on leaving school.

But if the first step to your decision is already making you miserable, I would give my honest take.

I am grateful for your unconditional support too, and even more so to the others who hadn’t judged me for who I am, and yet draw me back to reality with a harsh word or two when there’s a need to.

It’s heartbreaking.

I learnt to keep comments to myself, because I decided it is time to let go of the constant worries I had of you.

Certain things we could only learn ourselves. Certain values we have in common, but there are many more we don’t share.

I do not want to dramatise this, but as I am typing here, I feel a strong tug in the chest.

Because you do mean something to me.

And I don’t want you to end up like someone I hated most, myself.

And you are not a good-times friend whom I only wanna hang out with to club, glam up with, laugh unglamourously, shop, and gorge ourselves silly with food.

Or even comparing lardy ex-boyfriends and fight over who had the cuter ex-boyfriend(I still must maintain, Philip is better than Kelvin).

Cos there are other things we share that go beyond that. You know, I know.

I had so much want to sit you down one day to really speak of what I truly feel, but was unable to express.

I don’t know if this is the best outlet, neither do I know if you would be able to take it, but it just flowed as I typed.

***

Raf mentioned something about her fiance.

I knew Raf through Philip, who is friend of Feroz, her fiance.

Interesting how our friendship bloomed.

Inevitably, the topic was brought back to the people of the past.

And yes, there had been people bugging for SBB‘s identity again, or how is he like in person.

Raf was amused, and laughed at the absurdity.

‘Easy peasy. Just tell them SBB is incredibly cute, impossibly handsome, awfully sweet, freaking rich, very successful, and (a gesture to gauge a measurement of 3-feet) a (*ahem*) dick this long.‘

The both of us was taken aback for a while, and threw the speaker an incredulous look, speechless.

I was stunned beyond words, and muttered, expressionlessly, ‘Sorry, I don’t lie.‘

‘Fine. At least this long!‘ He lifted his hands to gauge a measurement of 2 feet, saying matter-of-factly.

Raf and I stared at each other at a brief moment and burst out laughing.

Can I see?

Yeah, right.

Fine. Er. Hmm. How do you explain the cute, handsome, rich, successful and sweet part then?

Duh.

Raf’s verdict of the man?

‘Oh, he’s better than Mr Ex. His low, husky voice, sounds not bad. I like it. It’s like how I can shut my eyes and imagining him to be some cute, hunky stud.‘

Ahem. I get your point.

*Nods in agreement*

***

As the girls headed home, Vamp, SBB and I adjourned to the coffeeshop, where we had some pretty good Wanton Mee.

I swear I was almost dozing off, and my eyes were bloodshot.

From fatigue, maybe.

Or the contact lens, that were in my eyes a week too early(remember the 2 weeks ban my doctor set?).

But my eyes were sharp enough to make an observation.

Ended the night as Vamp and I hailed a cab each, and I kissed SBB goodbye at the junction of the coffeeshop, with gawking onlookers that threw looks of disapproval.

I wished I had the spare energy to catch a bus instead, but it was almost impossible.

Not because I was tired, but because I finally cash the darn cheque(a little pampering only, right?).

I didn’t expect to write this much today, really.

I shall now, continue my read.

Man, I am still amused how I had never read a single English romance novel in my life!

And, I shall brace myself, for the consequences.

She stared into the monitor, blankly, hardly deriving any form of inspiration.

There just wasn’t any drive, nor motivation.

Thus, she gave herself a break.

***

She slumped back into the support of the chair, and picked up the pen the waitress had left behind shortly before.

She fiddled with the napkin that cushioned her cutlery, and slid it under the clanging metals.

She flipped it to the side where the brown coffee club logo was kissing the table, and started doodling.

Before she knew it, the flow was back.

There, she was blogging.

Pen to napkin.

Before long, the napkin was 3/4 smeared with her untamed handwriting.

***

The two of them emerged from the covered driveway, into the cosy embrace of a breezy night.

It was briefly the start of the week, and the 2 of them had not expected to meet again on a consecutive night.

‘Look, darling! There’s stars in the sky! Quick, make a wish.’

I widened my smile as her eagerness amused and warmed me. The innocence within.

I had enjoyed her company on both nights, and was immensely grateful for such pleasantry.

But wishes? I cease to believe in them anymore.

We halted in our paths.

I stole a glance at her, and her doe-eyes egged me on.

At that moment, I ignited the romance with the idea of making wishes once more.

Eyes shut. Heart quieten.

We exchanged cryptic giggles and knowing smiles.

May our wishes come true, darling.

***

That was Tuesday(30th) night, when the muddle-headed Finicky Feline, had left her MP3 player over at mine’s.

She had sped down to my place, after knowing I hit a down point suddenly.

Her timing was impeccable.

The moment I returned from my brief meeting at the lobby, she called to tell me she reached.

She even bought kaya-bread for me.

That darling. How could anyone not love her?

We aren’t bimbos.

We had intellectual talks.

We hatched evil plans. But gave up cos we are such sweet souls.

We lamented.

I had a kooky idea which I shall not share here till I act upon it.

We bade each other goodbye, after we finished dinner at a nearby coffeeshop.

Under the stars.

***

Right after finishing with my previous entry, SBB called.

I swear it was barely a second when I put the receiver down to its slot, when the handphone beeped.

Mr Ex.

He was dropping by to collect some stuffs which he had left behind, but not cleared after the previous time he had shifted his things out of the life we once shared.

And how quaint is the timing.

The last time when he was here to move the majority of his belongings, was the day which I blogged about in my previous entry.

‘The very same lift landing, that housed the parapet where one of the most dramatic moments of my life ever took place.’

How quaint. Just as I was blogging about it.

I scooted around the house, digging out the buried memories of the past, and searched every corner to purge what I shouldn’t be keeping.

I felt good, that I felt totally no hint of emotions or any ‘unletgoable’ feeling.

Some stuffs I had wanted to keep for remembrance no longer held any meanings to me, and I threw them into the paperbag.

Suddenly, the vivid feelings of the day when all that happened, and the route that led us down the unavoidable, the deja vu feelings of my depression hit me quick and swift.

It wasn’t about the person anymore.

It’s like a whiff of perfume will remind you of a certain someone.

And a certain puzzle of the past, would remind you of a certain familiar feeling.

That, of sorrow.

And nahbeh!

You won’t believe this.

The radio had to add on to the mockery by playing the unmistakenable introduction to the over-exposed song.

One, that saw us through the days when we tried to better ourselves, and how my depression could not make me the perfect person I had wanted to be.

‘The reason’.

Talk about quaint timing.

Suddenly, as I moved around the house, opening and shutting cabinets, the tears flowed naturally.

The familiar sense of sorrow.

I called up FF and in between childish sobs, laughing at myself for being such a weakling.

At least as I giggled through my tears, it would seem like a childish outburst on my part.

I would rather believe in that.

No, it wasn’t of solid hurt.

Yeah. It wasn’t.

It is not one to be taken seriously.

It wasn’t him or the thought of him that made me cry.

It was the act of packing, purging that did it.

***

I wiped the last traces of tears from my cheeks, juggling few bags at the same time, struggling even to unlock the door.

I walked out of the door.

For the brief meeting at the lobby.

The peace returned.

***

I watched the man I once adored speaking animatedly about his recent trials in life.

Those of dealings with business, irresponsibilities of friends, worldly desires that he is trying to cut ties with.

I was at total peace. I couldn’t help but mused how someone of such familiarity could one day appear to me like a distant-stranger.

Surreal.

He rattled on. That tone of voice was once I was well-acquainted with, everyday of my past days.

One I often sat quietly, listened to, as he ended a hectic and frustrating day at work.

I felt a great sense of peace again, as the evening breeze caressed and the trees swayed.

A closure. A finality.

The man I once loved no longer exist. It was a whole new being right before me.

One I could hardly recognise.

***

Looked forward to Wednesday, because it was the long-awaited event of the week.

Girls’ night out again!

Er, almost.

City Hall.

Finicky Feline and I were on time, and as we anticipated a long wait ahead, we went into the nearest MNG store and did the unthinkable.

We eyed the sole cushioned seat in the store, and sat down on it, pretending to be waiting for our imaginery pal who was supposedly trying on the clothes.

Finally, Jane Doe reached with Tetanus and Wallflower in the car.

We waited for a little while more, before VampTreSS, the perpetual late-comer scrambled out of her cab.

Six and the city, it was.

Since Tetanus is considered as one of the ladies, she he was the lesbian of the group.

You might already read how our conversations were steered towards how it was before.

And, I was sober throughout the night, though I decided to let my quiet self to take over majority of the time, to get more acquainted with the Canon.

So, it’s not entirely true when Jane Doe mentioned how they had to pepper the conversations with saucy details or about you-know-who to keep me awake.

I was awake throughout!

I hardly mention you-know-who unless it’s about OMMism.

Woops.

Muahahaha.

Tetanus disappointed us.

We had wanted to grill him for adventurous details. But darn, he’s not so adventurous.

So.

Topics of the night revolved around faking again.

In search of fellow aliens, again.

Positions, positions.

Deep-throat.

Control of gag-reflexes.

Pretending to look up seductively to your partner as if you are enjoying something down the back of your throat, and you shifted your gaze down below and roll your eyes wondering when it would all end.

Oh. And some described how their *cough* lips look like.

I blushed when I recalled the details of the night.

I can’t imagine the cultural shock Wallflower received though.

And trust me, co-ordinating your wardrobe when you have to don your glasses is a freaking bitch!

I could hardly find anything to wear.

And I couldn’t even put on a hint of makeup.

And, I went without concealer even.

Ghastly, alright.

We protested at the idea of Serangoon Gardens, and ended up in Holland Village.

Dinner at Crystal Jade.

Adjourned to Tango for drinks.

And took tons of pictures.

And grabbed lotsa boobs.

Jane Doe, Tetanus and I were fussing over the camera for most of the night.

As the others ended their night early, Tetanus, Vamp and I suppered over at Breko.

I now yearn for the steak sandwich again.

We continued our talk over tea at the coffeeshop before we finally left for home.

And yes, I sifted out those that I took(and not breached their anonymity), and compiled them into my gallery.

Once again, thanks to VampTreSS who spent days to edit, and upload them.

Feel free to check them out here.

And obviously, those with me in them weren’t taken of me.

Snippets to the night. Click to enlarge.

I like this picture. A lot.

The only time, I took picture of my own hand.

I don’t remember her drinking anything else since the first time I met her.

I tried reaching out to her.

I would have loved to post portraits of those present, but that would mean risking my life cos they are all anal private people.

***

Spent a good deal of Thursday at home to finish my read, and starting on a new one.

I like the plot of the David Baldacci book, but didn’t think the way he writes is engaging enough.

The new book on the other hand, has a style of writing which I get a hang of pretty swiftly.

Was feeling hungry late at night when David(Phil’s friend/biker/cell group mate) called to ask if I would like to join him for supper.

I donned my jeans/shoes, and grabbed my helmet and jacket. Sans makeup. And blardy eye infection meant glasses.

I rolled my eyes when I realised he failed to inform me that he would be picking me up in a car.

I would have wore shorts, slippers and such, and not brought the bulky items along.

Headed to town for supper, where I indulged in a dose of roasted beef sandwich.

Hurhurhur, what great timing.

I bumped into SBB‘s pals.

I should have just hide my hedious face somewhere.

Was telling SBB earlier on, and his reaction?

Ting: Eeeee.. I think a couple of your other pals whom I had never met were there too. The horrors! When I was getting ready to leave, I stood up and waved to their table, and all were looking at me. I hope they weren’t saying ‘Noh! That girl over there, the one SBB is seeing.‘

Yeah, I wished I would just drop dead and die there. Looking my worst and getting paranoid over God-knows-what they were discussing about me at their table.

And SBB‘s reply?

SBB: !!!!! Huh! Oh no! My reputation! They would start to think what kind of brilliant taste I have. Like that die. My reputation gone.

*GIVES MENACING GLARE*

Classic.

Grr….

***

As we finished supper, I was still feeling hungry after sandwich and chips, garlic bread, and desserts.

I held my urge well. I didn’t give in to any other temptation.

Since we were feeling bored, we headed for the KTV and sang till dawn.

I shrilled, screamt, yelled, crooned, and pretty much traumatised him with my singing throughout the night.

Whee.

Must be influenced by the Project Superstar grand finals that I watched earlier in the evening.

I thought it was immensely encouraging to see how the results went.

It was a mesmerising display of how dreams are realised, no?

I thought it was touching.

More so, because I saw a familiar face on television, one belonged to an NPCC junior, who is also the girlfriend of my ex-squadmate.

The sister of the winner, Wei Lian, who is visually-handicapped.

But I can’t stand stupid people.

Stupid people from forums who came up with all sorts of narrow-minded speculations and judgments due to their own bias.

Or strange curses like hoping he would fall of the stage due to his visual-impaired.

Especially females.

Pretty juvenile I thought.

Then again, forums have juvenile females, and blogosphere have juvenile males.

Muahaha.

***

The sky looked threatening this noon, but seemed to be holding on well.

I got dressed and dragged my butt out of bed to get some food.

As I was passing that parapet, I heard it.

The first drops decided to relent as the clouds gave in to their weight.

@%#^!$#%!^!

It was a mad search for umbrella.

***

The roars breezed past me and I didn’t have a good look as the brolly blocked my view.

It was when I was at the coffeeshop when a message came in.

Yong Wee.

Philip’s friend whose bike is parked beneath my basement carpark after his previous GSX-R1000K3 was stolen from his carpark, which is few streets from my place.

So, the growls I heard, was his hayabusa beast.

He joined me for lunch at the coffeeshop as we hadn’t caught up for the longest time.

Somehow, Yong Wee and David both reminded me of the old biker days, and strangely, my birthday celebration last year.

Interesting.

Ah, Friday.

Cosy day to stay home to read my night away, have an early rest and look forward to the next week.

Ciao.

Oh. Happy birthday to Chao Hong, my kindergarten classmate.

And Yuxian, my secondary classmate whom I was supposed to tour Sydney with.

Still looking forward to that day.

Gee, I am getting overly nostalgic these days.