I really adore the weather to bits these days.

Chilly, windy, soothing.

Days like this, I feel like throwing a baggy woollen sweater over myself, the only problem being I don’t have a baggy woollen sweater for me to do such.

I was standing by the window yesterday, sipping my hot cup of Earl Grey, and feeling so much cosiness as the cold caressed my shoulders, arms and collarbones.

My hair danced and raved playfully in the soft breeze.

Though I had wished for some touch of skin, that would add on to the intimacy level.

Is that the reason why I love winter? To overlap my trench coat with a tight pull, as I strut down the freezing streets(minus the nose dripping part) with the tip-tap of my boots, looking for a cosy place for a cup of hot cocoa.

I can’t really attribute the lack of updates to the lack of enthusiasm, cos I had a nagging urge to blog, but was either:

1) Out in the evening hanging out with nice company. Wine. Drinks. Food. Fags. Videos. Pictures. Hospital. DoctorsDrop-dead cute cute doctors. Live band. Mahjong. Too tired to write when I got home. Bedtime is early for me these days, remember?

OR

2) Nicotine Withdrawal Symptoms Feeling the effects of nausea, cold sweat, grogginess, headache, and was feeling too much discomfort to be confined right before the monitor to type away. The screen’s light irritated me and set off more discomfort than before.

OR

3) On the phone.

OR

4) Enticed by the assortment of quality programs on Discovery Channel and National Geographic over the week.

OR

5) Read Struggling to read, when my world was constantly spinning around, and the words on the book, dancing.

OR

6) Blogging elsewhere. Like how I had blogged 3 entries at 3 different places today. And no, you won’t get access to it, unless you are the privileged ones. *Evil laughs*

OR

7) Planning for my plastic surgery.

OR

Starring in my own pornographic production.

Ahem.

Yeap. One of the above is untrue.

No, not the Discovery Channel part, though it is highly suspicious that a lady of my caliber(-cough- bimbo -cough cough-) would understand what the hell they are spewing forth in the program.

And despite you thinking that I am *cough* *COUGH* *AHEM* *ya, right* oh-so perfect, I do need plastic surgery.

The weekend had been the same old same old.

So, you thought my Sunday would be a wee bit more exciting, eh?

Besides blogging part of my day away, and bickering with SBB over the phone, with him nearly scaring me to death when he bluffed he had guessed my password to my secret blog.

And his persistent babyish pleas for me to reveal the password(muahahaha, so cute), with constant emotional blackmailing slipping into the picture.

Denise and Alvin had asked me for another round of mahjong for the night, and I declined since I was still yakking away with SBB on the phone, and was too lazy to head anywhere.

Denise grabbed Alvin’s phone over, and it was another case of guilt-tickling, when she emotionally blackmailed me with her sweet saccharin pleas, that coerced me into giving in.

I officially declare I loathe anyone with a killer baby voice.

Bad move on her part.

I ended up halting all her big winning chances, and came home with a wallet, plump from the 35 bucks winning.

Sigh, quoting Alvin, it’s about time I win since I had been losing for the past couple of times.

Yes yes, thanks to SBB, who decided to end my agony before I left for the game, or else my mind would be shuttling places throughout the game, letting my imagination and worries run amok.

Lazy and easy Sunday, that ended with my indecision to chat on MSN, concentrate on my book(which is really slow-moving cos I had blogged endlessly, leaving little space for it), focus on the CSI: Miami screening on AXN, OR pay some attention to this entry so I would keep to my promise that I would end this post by Sunday.

Which obviously, I failed to do yesterday, cos I was occupied by other stuff on hand.

Had tried to turn in at 3 plus, but the alert bug in me fought hard with the sleepy bug, and I couldn’t quite resist the temptation of reading another couple of chapters of my book, stealing a peek of CSI: Miami on and off.

Crawled right back to the computer screen at 5 plus, annoyed that my sleeping pattern is once again, screwed.

Had a slight chat with VampTreSS, before I finally burrowed into the depths of the duvet slightly past 6 in the morning.

Hello Monday.

***

What a cosy day to stay-in today. To perhaps finish my books, and a couple of posts which I had put off for the longest time.

With my body finding it a tad easier to cope this week, perhaps I can get more productive.

I was woken up by my property agent, Eric, who is also my mahjong gamer, who wanted to check with me my address.

When he called the 2nd time to confirm the block number, he suddenly mentioned how it was reported that someone had plastic surgery and the surgery failed.

He had remembered how I lamented I would love to go modify my looks the previous time when he had won all my surgery fees over the mahjong table(just tens of bucks, but still!).

Then he was trying to encourage me not to go for it over the phone, when I was in a slight delirious state, which I thought it was quite hilarious that he had called back just to tell me to drop the idea of plastic surgery.

***

A week ago. Monday. 14th.

Spoke to SBB on the phone that noon, and he had taken some time to nap for a couple of hours, which turned out to be double the time intended.

I was ready to head out to hang out with some *ahem* brilliantly cool and great company(just in case they are lurking somewhere, reading), when I gave him a call to inform my whereabouts then did I realise that he was still happily napping away.

At least the train ride was easier to cope with, with the phone call, since I have to try to get used to public transport again.

The supposed meeting time was 8.15pm, according to Nick, who offered to pick me up from Tanjong Pagar MRT station, to meet the others at Spize Cafe along River Valley Road.

I was, -proud- on time.

I sashayed from one end of the station to another, looking for any familiar faces, but found none.

I was bored. I was hungry. And yes, I succumbed to food, prompted merciless tauntings from SBB.

It WILL BE Nick’s fault if I were to gain another pound.

By the time he reached, it was 8.40pm.

Gr… and he had the cheeks to tell me that he had assumed that no girls would ever be on time, going by VampTreSS’ spectacular records in the past.

Um… Fine.

I ended the call with SBB, and hopped on to the scrambler a tad clumsily.

It had been a long while since someone pillioned me on a scrambler, and did I mention that I tend to get shy when someone pillions me?

I HAVE NO IDEA WHY.

Oh well.

When we got there, Kelvin was already there, and Nick had to make another trip to pick VampTreSS up.

I joined Kelvin at the table, until Vamp and Nick joined us.

It was filled with silly things such as looking at each other’s handwriting. In Chinese and English, and I shall not mention how atrociously messy and dishevelled my handwriting is.

Apparently, they believe in how handwriting would reveal the personalities of people, and Nick then kept the pieces of paper we scribbled on for future references.

Tsk tsk. Imagine if I were to become famous one day, that bloody piece of paper with my immaculate handwriting would probably fetch millions.

It was as if I had given him a cashable blank cheque when I allowed him to keep my handwriting, ya know? I know, I am a darn generous friend.

Roy then came down to join us, and we we then happily playing with his Nokia N70, which I pretty much adore.

He then took shots of everybody, and he took a potentially scandalous shot of me, probably because it would fetch millions too, if I were to become famous.

Brian joined the group around half past midnight.

I think the guys were trying to train me to be a porn queen or something, when Kelvin put his mobile right before me, and prompted me to say……

‘Yamatei! Itai! Yamatei!’

*Cough*

… which I gamely spewed forth.

Imagine my horror, when Nick took the picture and piece it together with the voice recording, so that when the picture file is opened, the voice recording would play ceaselessly in the background.

I hate to think what they actually do with the picture and voice recording in the privacy of their own.

*Shudders*

I have no idea why I look so poutishly bewildered(ya, ya, I know there are some other more suggestive intepretations for the look) when Roy snapped this suddenly.

And oddly, it does go well with the voice recording, which I have problems uploading to my site.

Porn star in training. *cough*

The highlight of the night was when the group made a music video, that was so disgusting awesome that I think everyone should have a look at it.

I shall upload it once Nick loads it up.

A snippet of it can be seen in the below picture, of Roy… doing whatnots. *shudders*

And yes, that’s the nicotine gum FF had generous gave me just in case I get highly restless.

Slightly later, Kelvin and Nick retired for the night, and Max came down to join the group.

It was then, I grew increasingly bored, and exploited Roy’s camera phone for my own pleasure.

Not before Vamp snapped a picture of me looking dejected(she specifically asked for a dejected look, I think she doesn’t want me to be happy).

My turn.

This, reminds me of a picture I had taken some time back.

Only good shot I could get of Max, looking pensive.

VampTreSS thought the above picture is interesting.

This, is my favourite picture of the night.

My intepretation of myself, perhaps.

Whee!

I would love to have a N70 too.

Vamp then used it to take several shots of me.

With an array of interesting expressions.

(Yes, my fingers were wrapped around a ciggie, and I cut it out to fulfil my *cough* social responsibilities)

What’s with that… bitchy smirk?

I swear I wasn’t staring at his…

Really!

I won’t tell you how tiny it is even if I did.

Well, I think it is kinda obvious that his arm is indeed tinier than mine.

***

It was as we were sitting there earlier in the evening when I decided I shall not leech off their fag supply.

I bought my first pack of fags, the last I did, last year end-July.

End July.

Hmmm.

What a difference a year makes, eh?

Maybe end-July is a period of vice.

Muahahaha.

Anyway. I stopped. My first and only fag-experience, cos it made me sick after I chain-smoked due to a heavy depression back then.

So, after going into the 7-Eleven for a pack of Dunhill Lights, I sat back at the table, offering ciggies to everyone, before lighting one for myself.

Somehow, throughout that Monday night, I sat there, as others corrected how I hold my fag, and how to light one. Or the basic ettiquette when someone lights one for you.

Bleah. So troublesome. One more thing to put me off the fags.

At the end of the night, I counted the number of butts at the side of my chair, and realised I had devoured more than 10 of such, without feeling sickly.

Yah, right.

The group finally dispersed around 3 plus, and I bade them goodbye. Brian and Max adjourned elsewhere, whereas Roy and Vamp headed home.

When I got onto the cab, I started to grow increasingly uncomfortable, and that dreaded cab ride I had last year, came into mind.

It wasn’t as bad, actually, but I felt the pukish feelings nonetheless.

It got worse when I got home, and realised Creamy had peed around the house.

As I bent forth to clean up the mess, hardly bear to blame the little cutie with the soulful pair of eyes, I stood up feeling my world spinning.

Whee. High.

As I struggled to get through with the showers and such, I brushed my teeth and ended up puking.

Actually fagging is not too bad an idea for dieting. It makes you puke.

But sadly, thereafter, I couldn’t stand the smell of smoke, and anything that smell remotely like a cigarette put me off.

Not bad.

Since then, I have not have a craving for cigarettes, anymore.

I quit as soon as I picked up.

Well done.

***

SBB called and was on the phone for an hour plus till the first glimpse of morning rays greeted us.

He gloated over my misery from the nicotine overdose, and lectured me slightly. I thought he was in glee over how fagging had screwed my body system up badly, and I was put off not to touch another one for a while.

***

I woke up late on Tuesday, and headed to Tanjong Pagar, where I thought I was needed for the telemarketing stuff.

As I reached there, I waited for 20 minutes, and there wasn’t anyone in sight.

I thought I had made a mistake, which I always do, and decided that perhaps I have got it wrong.

Feeling a tad too sheepish and embarrassed to call up anyone(tsk tsk, I didn’t want to further reinstate the fact that I am a forgetful bimbo, alright?), I actually left the building and decided to head home.

Somewhere safe, and cosy.

Quite silly thing to do, I know. But I was just too lazy to be hanging out. Was feeling slightly lethargic actually, and the restlessness set in.

I was also worried about the snowball of cuteness being along at home, and rushed home to accompany it.

Apparently they decided to start the session late that evening, and so coincidentally all the others were late.

Er.. okay.

***

The naughty one peed in my room on its own mattress.

She sheepishly looked up at me and knew she had done something wrong, running away from me.

And in her excitement when I got home, she clumsily sat on a puddle of her own pee, and I had to shower her again.

So… cute.

***

Spent the rest of the night watching National Geographic, Discovery Channel, with it lying next to me.

Catching the documentary on 911 incident actually shocked me the way I had not expected it would still do after all these while.

I actually found myself tearing.

It was even more chilling and scary than watching a horror movie.

Cos I realised, what was more horrifying and scary than supernatural evil forces, is the evilness of the human minds.

It might even be true that I am fearful of people more than ghosts.

***

Just as I was feeling sweaty palms and slightly afraid, I almost squealed when the house phone shrilled, taken me by surprise.

SBB.

Great timing eh?

***

On Wednesday the 16th, I decided to meet up with my plastic surgeon and discussed the extensive overhaul to be done.

Joke, okay, joke.

Speaking of plastic surgeons, I would just go into one of my dreamy states and swoon over how cute some of them are.

And yes, to the extent that some of my friends are asking me if I would want plastic surgery or bed a plastic surgeon for a boyfriend.

*Cough*

The latter. Then maybe I can have the former at a discounted rate?

Muahahahaha.

***

I reached some hospital at half past 12, where I was supposed to meet up with VampTreSS, who as usual, would take a little wee bit of time to reach.

She was supposed to accompany me for my consultation, ya know?

Don’t believe?

Eventually, I was told decided that I needed:

Rhinoplasty. If you have seen how flat my nose is, you would understand the desperate need for it.

Make my eyes bigger, like those comic-characters’ doe-eyed look.

Collagen injection into my upper lips for the sex-siren’s look.

Facial reconstruction to make my face shape smaller.

Cheeks.

Laser treatment for fairer skin, better complexion.

Jaw.

Liposuction is a must. Bodysculpting. From the arms, calves, thighs, tummy. Or perhaps those injections to disperse the fats would do.

Break my legs and make them longer.

A BOOB JOB IS A MUST HAVE.

Laser away the unsightly hair, too. Heh.

Nah, that’s no true actually. The part that I was there for consultation, that is.

But it’s true that I needed the above. And I wonder how much a bankrupt would it make me. Give me a while, as I plot to hook a millionaire sugar daddy work out my finances.

I am tired of looking the way I do. And I do want to be pretty, and I think everyone is pretty cool with plastic surgery these days, why not?

I mean, the thing is, despite there will be people putting you down on how your looks are fake, but a visually pleasing picture will still be welcomed and adored everywhere, fake or not, right?

That aside. The actual fact why we were there was because…

Brian was scheduled to have a surgery to remove some metal pieces from his ankle, which were inserted after he broke it in an offroad accident some time back.

Since Vamp would be visiting him, I decided to meet up with Zerro for lunch and meet up with Vamp thereafter.

It was a hot afternoon, and Zerro suggested the Muslim food place within the hospital.

Scrubs make men sexy.

*Slurp*

And I reckon it was a sign when I saw him carrying the above book in his hand, and bugged him to lend it to me.

I spent the rest of the afternoon flipping it through, and realised how easy it was to catch up with the medical jargons.

It either means that I am made out to be a surgeon, to be dating one, or that I should opt for plastic surgery.

Muahahahaha.

VampTreSS reached at a quarter past 1, and we met up. I introduced the 2, and Zerro then proceeded to attend to his chores.

I accompanied her to have lunch(where I bumped into Shisheng’s girlfriend. I bumped into her at Borders on Saturday when I was out with FF last last week too), and we walked round the hospital, finding a place where it is air-conditioned and cosy to be lazing before Brian was out of the operating theatre.

We ended up at…

I told Vamp that we should be wearing big shades and pretend to be hiding our faces when we sashayed out of the ward later.

I even had the kooky idea of stuffing my boobs with tissues so they would look obscenely huge as I strutted out of the exit of the ward.

We were there, cos we snuck into the doctors’ resting room to.. *gasp* use the computer.

I shall not mention how a couple of them stumbled in with the 2 of us in the room, and fled for their lives.

I even had a whose-eyes-are-bigger competition when one of the doctors came in in shock.

I egged him to come on in, and put on my most saccharin voice, eye lashes fluttering as I assured him, ‘Don’t worry, please come in, I promise we won’t do anything to you.’

He fled.

Not surprising, eh.

Damn, I should just corner him to one corner and ask if he is a plastic surgeon, and he would be my new found best friend if he is.

Darn.

Zerro, introduce leh.

Oh, did I mention Zerro promised that he would give me a discount if I ever look him up to do my plastic surgery?

But the thought that he would be the first to look at my newly-enhanced bust gives me the chills.

***

We earlier enquired over the counter where he would be rested post surgery, and was told he would be at Ward 75 Room 24 Bed 7 or something.

And we saw a rather alert looking one lying on the bed, with left leg bandaged, and a pair of glasses sitting on his perky bridge.

I nearly chuckled at the sight of the dowdy look of the gayish metrosexual of the group.

He looked relatively well and his mum was there with him.

Tsk. Such a brat. Mummy’s boy eh?

We then got him a 2 wheeled ride so we could smuggle him to the ground floor for a breath of, er, fresh air.

Apparently, he was craving for a fag.

The usually-smug one was a picture of mellowness, with his tiny whimpers of how groggy it was after we had meddled him round to sit him on the wheelchair.

Ugly toes.

Wheelchair. How oddly familiar.

The vain one is too conscious to be pictured as a wimp pale patient.

I had took over the wheeling of the wheelchair as the 2 of them chat since I was once quite acquainted with the wheelchair for a good couple of months.

But my superb maneuvering skills made the nauseous one even more ill than he already was.

Woops.

***

We had wanted to grab a coffee but then Brian’s mum call to say that the nurse was going to attend to him and possibly do the necessary checkups before they release him from the hospital.

We transported him back to the ward immediately and met up with Zerro thereafter for dinner.

And I fulfilled my fantasy ambition of becoming a doctor.

I really did want to study medicine, alright?

Though I know I most probably would be kicked out of medicine school if I constantly act-cute in class.

Dinner was at Delifrance, where we smuggled some heavenly durian puffs from Prima Deli into it to go with our drinks and food.

The skies then started roaring and I decided that Mr Zerro is a jinx. The previous time we had dinner, it was storming hell out there as well.

I got a little unsettled by the constant flashings from the skies, and if I could have my way, I would probably shrimp up and hug my knees, whining of my fear.

I could almost feel my heart racing, palms sweaty, just simply cos we were sitting so near to the open space.

Jitters, jitters.

Oh, did I forget to mention that we saw a darn gorgeous Caucasian doctor, a picture of suaveness as he graced the ward.

VampTreSS didn’t manage to catch a glimpse of him, until he strutted out of the hospital, into the evening sun when she was taking a smoke break.

*Gasp*

And I missed that picture of sheer perfection.

Darn.

And I heard the orthopaedic ward had a new addition, which caused the staff to flip off their seats when they saw the tall being slow-motioned(I think they would have mentally special-effected the picture) into the building.

And! The best part? He just came back from the UK, and possibly equipped with an English accent.

So, so, so, yummy.

That was perhaps the reason why I didn’t mind visiting Brian with Vamp. Muahahahaha.

He was in the orthopaedic ward, where I was constantly darting my head left and right, looking out for the legendary Dr X(I have no idea what his name is!).

Darn. No such luck.

*Sulks*

Vamp commented she had never seen someone as excited to be in the hospital like I do.

Post dinner, we used the computer for a while, before we went back to Brian’s ward, where he was already changed, waiting to be discharged.

We smuggled some pungent durian puffs and durian eclair up to his ward, and audaciously munched up everything in the ward.

It was yummy.

We then proceeded down to the taxi stand, where Brian and Vamp had their fags, and I surprised myself that I do not have any cravings for it.

It was then, the headache started brewing and I felt a tad sickly.

Brian left with his mum and Vamp dropped me off at the MRT station, where I took a train ride(!) home in the offwork crowd, in the drizzle.

***

I was watching CSI: Miami, struggling to stay awake with the headache when Meiling called that she would be reaching soon. I packed up Creamy’s stuff and played a bit with her, before pouting a little at the thought that the 6 days would be up soon.

Meiling stayed for an hour or so, and very nicely gave me free buffet lunch vouchers at Marriott.

Yay.

I think it was part of her evil ploy to get me fat, really.

She then carried the lively Creamy home, ending the weary night for me.

The headache sucked.

***

Tsk tsk.