Monday, 14th November.

Time, was 9.30am.

Rise and shine. I last recalled dozing off at almost 12 midnight with the MP3 player blasting in the background, waking up briefly at 12.30am, before nodding off again, greeting the time at 1.30am.

Finally, I relented and turned in at 1.30am.

8 hours of fulfilled, hardly disturbed sleep.

After a brief phone call with SBB, I rose from my bed, did some reading.

I brewed a pot of water for the waiting bag of Earl Grey, buttered some cheese spread onto my french roll, and caught up with the morning news.

Soft, low growls were heard, the glow of the day faded slightly, but were hardly threatening.

The beaming rays are now slowly returning.

How.. untypical. How… routine.

As I sat before the monitor sipping my tea, which is gradually chilled by the air-conditoner, I am deriving some warmth from the curled up bundle of fur resting on my lap right now.

I feel oddly normal. So normal that it seems like I have almost nothing to write.

Or perhaps, I had been turning in so early for the past week that I didn’t feel like writing, since I am always the most productive, in the quietness of the dark.

It is in that realm, I live.

***

It was 2 hours on the phone with SBB on a boring Monday afternoon. I am stuck at home, almost bored to tears.

Gee.

***

It was a pretty Sunday noon, when I was all dressed up sweetly, prettily, daintily, demurely and angelically.

In a white dress, no less.

Almost celestial. Classy and poise.

(Yah, right)

It was as if things around me should have been slow-motioned, to match the dreamy, floaty effects.

I had slept at 3am, and woke up at 10 plus in the morning. On a Sunday. I awed myself.

I sashayed out of the lobby and into the scorching sun, towards the back exit of the estate. A daddy of massive size, was just returning from a swimming session with his young, twin sons.

I walked past them, thinking how great a day it was. Chirpy. CHIRPY. CHIRPY!

Suddenly, I recalled I had forgotten my cash.

Grrr…..

Slightly spoiling the picture of daintiness, I dragged my slippers in a hasty manner, scurrying back to my block, all flustered and panting.

Um. No good.

Daddy and twins there. Gee. Do they have to stay in the same block? What a picture of difference.

I smiled enchanting at the pair of twins as they proceeded to the letterbox, before making my escape up to the 3rd floor, grabbed my stuff, and left the apartment dishevelled and sweaty.

When I darted out of the lift door as it arrived at the ground floor again, I nearly knocked into, yes, you guessed it, the twins, who were waiting for a lift.

I smiled sheepishly at the 3 of them, and any idiot would have guessed that I had been a doofus and forgot something as I was rushing out.

Bleah.

So much for poise and class.

I should have strutted out in a slow-motioned mode, looking all celestial and every bit of a goddess.

***

Wednesday. The 9th.

It was the day I woke up with hardly enough sleep. Perhaps 6 hours or something? It was 11 plus in the morning when I woke up.

Met up with SBB somewhere near town at 2pm, since he was already there, and had a rather long lunch together till it was 4.

As SBB finished his ciggie, I curiously asked, with the still burning butt between my fingers, ‘So, how do you flick a finished cigarette?‘

I think he was trying hard not to roll his eyes.

He stretched out his hand, turned over his palm, so that it would be facing skywards.

‘Turn your hand,’ he instructed.

I turned my palm upwards, like he did.

‘Open up your fingers,’ he commanded.

That’s no flicking!

Though slightly puzzled, I still spreaded my 5 fingers, and whatever left of the combusting cigarette fell off my hand.

DUH.

That’s so NOT flicking.

I shall not mention my doofus moment when I was standing at the carpark, and whilst standing still on the spot, I lost my footing and tripped.

On a flat spot!!! Not moving!!! Standing still!!!

The very kind soul gave me a lift to Orchard, where we stopped by to fill some petrol(that man had forbade me to say anything about ‘run out of petrol‘ or the likes of ‘stranded on the expressway‘, cos he knew how jinx my words could be), where I was scheduled to meet up with the 3 gorgeous ones.

Did I mention how ugly the Christmas decorations are this year? We still thought it was for the Chinese New Year with all the irritatingly reddish ornaments that are quite distasteful.

SBB and I debated what was the ‘thingy’ right on top of the arch that greets the traffic heading into Orchard’s main stretch.

I didn’t figure out what the ugly thingy was, until later that night, then did I realise, it was a red ribbon what was so distorted that it doesn’t look like a pretty ribbon at all!

Gee.

I had wanted to shop for something for baby Rene, but nothing seems quaint nor individualistic enough for me to adore.

SBBF(his friend) was already at Coffee Bean at Wheelock Place, and we joined him for coffee.

The cringe moment came when a friend they were scheduled to meet, called.

SBBF: I am here already, with SBB, and his -gulp- girlfriend.

My face instinctively contorted to a weird array of expressions, and I was just glad I didn’t choke on my tangy Sunrise.

SBB immediately threw a perturbed/puzzled look, as if saying, ‘Eeeww‘.

Muahahahaha. Classic.

Mockingly funny, in my opinion.

I swear I was holding back not to burst out laughing when that friend joined us later, and whilst chatting to SBB, pointed to me and said something, ‘…. your girlfriend…. blarblarblar…‘

*Cringe*

I shall not mention my moment of doofusism when I mindlessly played with the lighter, and as I felt the heat burning, I looked frantically helpless cos I didn’t know how to let it go, until of cos, SBB rolled his eyes and snatched the flaming lighter away from me.

The group dispersed slightly before 6, as the post-work Orchard increased its buzz.

I then bade the very tired SBB goodbye with a nice cuddle, and made a last minute dash into Borders to get some cards for the girlies.

It was then when Chrissy called to inform me of her arrival.

I browsed at the watch, and wondered what time would Vamp reach.

FF had told me she would reach slightly after 7, and as she was caught up with some work, we postponed the time to 7.30pm instead.

Vamp had asked me what time I would be meeting FF earlier on, and despite of the meeting time planned, I decided to tell her that we were meeting at 6pm. Sneaky, sneaky me.

Chrissy had told me she called Vamp at 5.30pm, and Vamp had said she was changing.

It was 6.30pm when I called Vamp, and her respond?

‘Changing, changing! I give you guys a call when I leaving.‘

*Sniggers*

By the time she reached, it was almost 7.15pm, 15 minutes before FF reached.

Chrissy and I had met up first, chilled at McCafe, and I was still at a loss what to get for Baby Rene.

Finally, hunger prevailed, and 4 of us went for dinner at Cream Bistro, where I was lost in my thoughts for good half of the evening, listening to stories that sounded intimately familiar, yet hauntingly distant.

I was… tired.

A forced smile at times, a stroke of another girlie’s hair at times, staring into the far distance, mesmerised by the hypnotic lights of passing vehicles.

I didn’t eat much for dinner.

Ah well. Good. I should be on a diet anyway.

FF and I finally got too tired, and decided to head home.

It was no surprise that I crashed at 12 midnight, and slept for the most fulfilling 12 hours I had, in a long, long while.

Emotional and physical fatigue is a good way to waste your body away.

***

Finally, a well-deserved break for the body, when I holed up at home on a Thursday, till it was evening time when Meiling came over with Creamy in tow.

The snow-furred Maltese was going to bunk over at mine for a week, cos her owner would be away for a short holiday.

The night was spent settling her in, and setting up her playpen so she would know where to pee and poo.

By the time Meiling left, it was pretty late, and since I wasn’t quite used to early nights, my body was slowly getting tired, and yes, it was yet again, an early night.

I bet I slept before 2, with the little darling sleeping right next to my bed.

In the middle of the night, when I was awoke briefly, I saw a white head right by the side of my bed, and got an immense fright.

Eventually, I realised, it was the little bitch(yes, she is a girlie) propping herself up at the side of the bed, looking at my sleeping self. I had forgotten that she was in my room.

The only down side?

I broke out in rashes, patches of redness and splotches of painful spots spreaded across my thigh, hands, body and face.

Ugly, ugly.

***

‘She’s so bimbotic! She looks blur, doesn’t she? And she likes to give those innocent, blinking looks so you wouldn’t have the heart to scold her. And my friend told me she is super teyh, and she would whine and want a lot of affection and cuddles. And she is afraid of sudden loud noises like thunder. And you must coax her to eat.‘

SBB/other random people I had described the above to: Are you talking about Creamy or yourself?

Grr… duh!

***

After 8 hours of sleep, I greeted Friday before noon! Whee, how nice(ahem, an achievement, alright?).

I realised that I really dislike day time with a passion. I just love the night time so much more.

I spent the day clearing up the place, playing with Creamy, and trying to feed it.

Did some grocery shopping, and took a walk, too.

Since it had not really settled down, I decided to drop any plans to head out, and stay in instead.

It was late evening when there were plans of mahjong at my place.

Great! Creamy would have some company and I wouldn’t have to head out.

And the 2 rounds ended up exhausting us till 5am in the morning(which is pretty rare cos we would seldom end post midnight), and depleting my bank account further by 20 bucks.

After a shower, and slight clearing up of the place, it was 6am when I finally hit the sack.

Friday. How short and sweet.

Yet, a year ago, on the 11th November late night, it was definitely not short nor sweet.

I thrusted my head deep into the pillow, waving away the lingering memories, that stubbornly refused to go.

***

Hey Guangyang,

A year since you went away.

Late on 11th’s night. Early 12th.

Too much thoughts jumbled up.

Many times as I plunged into my darkest moments, I still wish you are around.

I remember the most excruciating night of my life, where I could not speak, nor could I string a coherent sentence as I sobbed down the phone.

That night.

11th’s night. Early 12th, of April. 2004.

You listened, you soothed. Without a need for me to say anything.

You opened up my eyes. To see a far bigger world I had ever thought it would be.

The big heart to accept people the way they are. No discrimination, no judgments passed.

And, to be there for any friends, in times of adversity.

To have an honest friendship, when things didn’t sound too pleasant to the ears were accepted, not judged.

But because they were the barest, and the most brutal sense of honesty anyone could offer, they were the most precious memories of all.

To speak our minds, and offer a different perspective of things. I had never met anyone who I thought could be so honest with me. Sincerely so.

Our friendship was a short one. But it paved the mould for the kind of friendships I know I would want in the future.

Because of you, I met a lot of people, of extremes, who showed me the world you once let me had a glimpse of.

The fanciful arrays of people you met, and life experiences you been through.
Thank you, Yang.

You are still, sorely missed.

In the days when I needed to talk to someone, to rant, to vent, to speak of the evilness, the disappointments, I always hope you would dissect the world for me, simply because I got too tired to do so.

The day you went away.

***

I didn’t attend Guangyang’s memorial on Saturday nor met up with common pals to pay respect to him.

Cos I had another event to attend on Sunday.

I am not a superstitious person, and I personally loathe the silliness of what might clash with what, and the obscenely stupid traditions one has to follow which make no sense to me.

Friends who know me will know that I have no taboo, and don’t see the need to avoid this nor that, or not to do what on this day just because it might jinx my future according to Chinese traditions or whatsoever.

In fact, I was thought to avoid stepping across burnt incense papers when I was younger, and I stubbornly refused to avoid doing so this year when I had to cross over the road and I was choked to death by the polluted air.

I will always pray and refuke all these in Jesus’ name.

Yet again, with due respect to my friends, I decided I will not mix a sad occasion with a happy one, and decided to skip the meet up on Saturday, just in case, I would ‘bring bad luck’.

It was an odd Saturday…

Exactly a year ago, I suffered terrible spiritual attack, and my faith was put in doubt with the strange encounters following Guangyang’s death.

I sensed some form of presence at home, and I was affected by Guangyang’s death so much that I was reluctant to leave my room. I don’t quite remember eating much back then.

Few days following his funeral, I stayed in my room, and the day when I finally wanted to leave home, I felt something present in the living room.

I stared intensely into the space and it was asphyxiating.

I started praying to God. I shut my eyes and it was almost too draining to fight the spiritual attack.

Not forgetting how I was shivering and chattering non-stop at the funeral, feeling some sense of oppression.

I wanted to dart back into my room, but I know Eileen was waiting.

However hard it was, I almost ran out of the house.

When I finally met up with her, I was a picture of daze. Talking to her how I had to drag myself out, cos it was the only way to keep myself sane.

Too much gloom looming back then.

I remember heading to cell group after that, sharing with Serene how I had so much questions in mind about the whole episode, especially with everyone saying how they saw Guangyang at the wake.

One saw Guangyang standing behind me.

One saw Guangyang standing beside the rubbish bin when someone had lost his bike keys.

In fact, when no one could find the keys, the guy dashed to the rubbish bin, and he didn’t even peek into the rubbish bin, stretched his hand into the bin, and fished out the bunch of keys.

That was hours after the bunch of keys were lost.

My beliefs and my encounter confused me.

I was taught not to believe in the concept of afterlife, and what I felt and saw, were contrasting.

Eventually, I got the answers I needed at the cell group.

We believe in the devil, and how he would take the form of those familiar to us to instill the fear and sorrow in us, that we would be manipulated by other beliefs.

And yes, I do believe in ghosts, and I am timid, but somehow, my own defiance built by my beliefs stood against those.

And why do I bring this up, you ask?

I watched The Exorcism of Emily Rose of Saturday.

It evoked tons of questions about my belief(Christianity and Catholic are different, but still, the thought of Jesus and God sprung up to life), and I did an inner reflective conscience review at the end of the show.

I had never watched a single horror movie in the past 4 years. The Ex abhorred horror movies, you see.

And yes, FF was right, I watched the movie -cough- through the buttonholes of her jacket(and before you call me a loony, peek through your button hole and you will realise you would see quite a wide view of everything, alright!).

Yes, I prayed before I watched the movie too.

There was a part of the movie, I nearly cried.

I suddenly remember a slightly familiar scenerio when my faith was high.

The part when Emily Rose was called to the field.

White, and misty. I saw, felt and been that before.

If God does love you so much, why did He allow you to go through all these sufferings?

Didn’t we ask of this over and over again, so many times before?

The answer she had, was the same answer that was given to me.

It struck as a painful reminder.

Eerily familiar.

Forgive me, O Lord.

***

It’s funny as I read back the archive from a year ago.

I saw how I was speaking of the shaken faith with Guangyang’s death being mystified and attributed to the forces of evil.

And I saw myself blogging about I am in need of a holiday to London and Europe!

An excerpt:

I feel like flying off to somewhere.

Maybe the States or somewhere in Europe. Maybe to Prague or Rome where I had soooooooooooo much wanted to grace and whore myself in front of the camera.

I feel like doing it without much planning.

Say, buy tickets tomorrow(Sunday), set off on Monday or something.

No planning. I don’t even see a need of informing anyone.

Backpacking would be nice. How does sleeping on the streets feel like? Depriving myself of the cosy hotels I took for granted.

I still very much have London’s map etching deep in mind. I wonder if much changed in the past 5 years.

I need a solo holiday.

To a beautiful place where I will feel so minute, so tiny.

Seeing different things, experiencing different stuffs.

Refreshing the worn body.

Don’t worry. You guys will know about the trip when I update my blog in a cybercafe in San Francisco or such.

Or maybe, I will give my parents a buzz from Rome to inform them their little princess had embarked on an adventure somewhere.

Or perhaps, I would give the man who was once in my life a call from Old Trafford to account my absence from cell and church.

Cool. How very cool.

Darn. After a year I first blogged that, I am still lingering locally.

And quaintly, when I met up with FF in Orchard at 3pm on Saturday, we had spoke ideally how we would want to be going away to somewhere, just to experience a different life for a few months before we get too old and have too much commitment to get away from.

And I saw myself thinking of Gracie when it drizzled and I felt like dancing and skipping in the rain a year ago.

And coincidentally, I was speaking fondly about her to someone just.. couple of days ago.

Timing, timing, timing.

A sign or something?

***

I had an enjoyable time with FF on Saturday. Had lunch at Pepper Lunch, and it was fantabulous, I say.

Though we both smelt of grease after strutting out of the joint.

We spoke mainly of our dreams of venturing elsewhere, but the financial strain might be too great to handle.

Alas, US is her preferred choice, and my love for the English accent and European men(especially the Asian ones) would mean we might not lead a life together overseas.

We were drifting into our ideal worlds throughout the day.

I even went to the extent of trying on fashionable trenchcoats, just to ooh and aah over the winter clothings as if we were really shopping for our trips.

Boots, trenchcoats, knee length skirts, and colourful, soft mufflers.

Chic!

And to think that I was such a fashion disaster when I was staying in London that I didn’t make full use of it as a fashion parade.

Wasted!

Aww… darn. I am set into my holiday mode again.

The yearning always comes at the end of the year.

I love the last quarter of the year, I think I mentioned before.

Oh yah, I litted my Christmas tree last night!

Pretty. *beams*

Right after lunch, we went for the movie at Lido.

The last time I was there to watch a movie, must be more than 4 years ago.

My 4th movie for the year.

One movie with Meiling.

2 movies with FF.

One movie by myself.

Whee!

How cool.

I still have 2 movie tickets, free, which were given to me in January this year, and not make use of.

How… pathetic.

***

And I shall not mention how the 2 of us snuggled up close and grabbed each other, squirming in our seats when the scenes got a wee bit too disturbing.

Horror movies are.. evil.

When you are single, that is.

Or, in FF’s case, when your partner is not around.

***

As we finished the movie, we had thought that we would give Kenny and Vamp a call.

Vamp said she would be meeting Elfry for dinner at Holland Village, and asked if we would like to meet up.

We thought it was cool, since we thought we would be meeting Kenny at Wala that night.

Kenny had called us late Friday night to arrange to meet at Wala Wala, or so we thought.

When FF and I met up earlier, we had thought we had confirmed with him over the phone on Friday night.

So when we placed the call to him on Saturday, we thought if he was in town, we could meet earlier, or to confirm the time we would be meeting.

Some miscommunications had misled him into thinking that we had wanted to meet up with him privately in town, and it was quite a hilarious phone call where he didn’t get what I mean, and he didn’t get what I mean.

I had thought we would confirm the timing with him, and asked what time he would be meeting us or if he wanted to meet us earlier since we would be free and meeting Vamp in Holland Village.

When we called, his respond was, ‘Err.. Would you guys be free tomorrow afternoon? Anyway, I would be at Wala, and if you guys can make it, you can come down join me since I would be meeting up with Cowboy Caleb.‘

And err.. can make it? I thought we said we were going down already? Oh well, I think the miscommunication was bad. *Laughs*

Apparently he thought we wanted to meet him in town.

Since he already had plans, we decided he could go ahead. And a shame that our schedules were packed on Sunday to meet him.

We went around to do some shopping for Baby Rene and yet couldn’t find anything else.

Thus, we made our way down to Holland Village to meet up with Vamp and Elfry, and to have our dinner at 8 plus in the evening.

We opted for N.Y.D.C. and I joked to FF that I hope they wouldn’t bar me from entering the eatery after the strawberry milk incident.

Thank God, they didn’t.

In fact, they were so impressed by my previous encounter that they still remember me, and decided to give me a free treat of desserts!

Yah, right.

Then again, not totally untrue.

Anyway, speaking of the incident when the jerk got strawberry milked, someone got milked on Saturday night! Not by me though. *Giggles*

Due to budget constrain and a strong desire to diet, I decided to skip dinner and went ahead with a piece of Banana Chocolate cake instead.

FF had a Times Square mudpie.

And I shall not mention how our desserts include gawking at 2 cuties wearing grey tees, sitting at the corner of N.Y.D.C..

Vamp arrived with Elfry shortly after.

Right then, my delicious cake was served, and I devoured most of it in matters of second.

FF looked a me, mused with a tad of disgust and amazement, ‘Why did you eat so fast?‘

Gluttony Hunger was my excuse.

Just as I savoured the last remaining bite of my cake, something didn’t taste quite right.

I scrunched up my face, and the taste was too puke-inducing that I had to spit it out, despite there were 3 people at the table who might be sickened by the sight.

It tasted too foul. As if the banana had gone really bad and fermented.

I wondered if it was me over reacting, and offered Vamp a bite.

She took a bite and her expression double-verify that the cake was bad.

We got the attention of a waitress and she took away the cake.

She later returned to ask if I would want another cake, or if I wanted the order to be void.

I chose the latter cos the former would be too harsh on my waistline since I had almost finished the whole darn cake.

Mind the gap, you hear on London’s tube. Mind the flab, when you witness Ting wearing a tube.

Oops. Too corny.

Vamp and Elfry then had dinner, and the waitress returned to inform FF and me that her mudpie would be on the house, too.

Yay!

Yay!

Yay!

Good service. Not because they void the order, but because they were prompt to remedy the situation without any fuss(though the sight of the spat out mash of chocolate/banana/saliva would be enough), unlike someone‘s encounter with Forbidden City some time back.

I didn’t ‘teyh‘ my way through, alright?!

***

Vamp thought FF and I seemed tired and faraway for the evening.

Yeap. Indeed.

She was in US, and I was in UK.

***

We proceeded to T.C.C. for coffee thereafter, and my thoughts were with the little timid one throughout.

Dad called to ask where I was, and that he could give me a lift.

As much as I wanted to stay out, I decided to head home instead.

Dad gave FF a lift, and for the first time, I heard her stringing together some Mandarin, and I tried hard to refrain from laughing out too loudly.

***

The little basket peed along the corridor leading to my door cos she was upset with me leaving her at home.

Dad’s masculine look softened when he returned home(he had left for supper alone but I decided to head home first cos 1) I wanna check on Creamy 2) I needed to use the bathroom urgently. Pee pee! 3) I was wearing too short a skirt to be at a coffee shop) to see the little furball looking on to him inquisitely.

He played with the timid one who seemed a little scared initially, but slowly warmed up to Dad.

When he knew that Creamy was peeing round the house, he had wanted me to cage her up, which I quite couldn’t bear to do.

Most of the time when Dad returned, I would just hole up in my own room, but the night was brought closer cos of Creamy’s presence.

Dad even bought me ice-cream, the cone type, which I adore.

It was 3am, when I could take it no more.

***

It was in my delirious state when Kenny SMSed me, and we exchanged a few messages.

I burst out laughing when this message came through:

‘Cowboy Caleb got drunk and pour milk on me ‘

I messaged him back that it was at Holland Village I splashed strawberry milk, and it is so coincidental that he was ‘milked’ there.

Holland Village shall now be the jinx place of milk.

Darn. I should be there to witness the fabulous episode.

Muahahaha, should be darn comical and hilarious to see Kenny looking helpless.

Kenny, what did you do to render such a treatment?!

Tsk tsk.

I laughed at the absurdity of it, and dozed off in a matter of seconds.

So scary.

***

Sunday.

Dad came home in the morning to let me some documents.

Now, I am a proud director of some company I know not of.

If I go bankrupt someday, I know not why either.

Anyway, Dad bought a pack of chicken rice, too.

I told him I would be heading out for lunch later, and we could share the pack of chicken rice.

We both chatted over a packet of chicken rice, and it seems like a sweet way to kickstart a Sunday.

***

I finally met my god-daughter, Rene.

It was also the first time since a long while ago since I saw Rene’s Mummy, Eileen.

Yes, the very same Eileen I had mentioned earlier who dragged me out of the house a year ago.

Everything seems to draw back to a circle, doesn’t it?

I shopped around Bukit Panjang Plaza for a little while, before going over to the already packed Eileen’s place.

***

I swear I am going to avoid future gatherings at all costs.

‘Eh, you so fat, even the lard on your body is more than someone who had just given birth -pointing at Eileen-’

Yes, I am aware of that.

‘Wah! Why you so fat?! You should go on diet already!’

Yes I already am on a diet.

‘Wah! What happen to you? Lose weight la!’

I also would love to, ya know?

Thanks. That does a lot for my self-esteem.

*Bows*

For that, I am proud to say I ate lots at the buffet lunch.

For that, I am proud to say that I haven’t eaten anything for today and have no intention to.

Perhaps, tomorrow, too.

I just need some kind souls to contribute to my ‘Make Ting the hottest blogger through plastic surgery‘ fund.

Kidding.

The part about the hottest blogger, that is. But I am serious about the plastic surgery fund though. I just need jabs to make the flabs go away.

Muahahaha.

***

Whilst I was digging into the yummy buffet food, a familiar face struck me.

I gawked for a long while, before I plucked enough courage to approach the male subject in question.

‘Hi, er… are you Mr Teo?‘

I felt as if I was picking some guy up or something.

He gave a polite smile and nodded slightly.

‘Are you a teacher?’

‘I already am retired, but ya, I used to be…’

*GASP GASP GASP*

‘Oh, I used to be your student, exactly 10 years ago!’

Mr Teo Long Cher, the disciplinary master of River Valley High till year 2000.

He had taught in River Valley since 1965, and I only knew that when he sat me down on one of the stools to do a little catching up.

Of course, with such a wide number of ex-students, it was almost impossible for him to remember who I am.

When I was in secondary 1, I remember most people used to fear him a lot.

Imagine our horror when we realised he was going to teach us Mathematics in secondary 2.

But, his smiley self and his penchant for concluding his sentences with ‘Right?’ always tickled us, but yet we would not dare to laugh cos of his stern image.

He spoke English like most Chinese-educated teachers would, and it was quite a hilarious sight.

Once, our classmates even tried to calculate how many ‘Right’s he had spoken throughout the 2-periods class.

I couldn’t remember the exact figure, but it was staggering high.

Speaking of highs, I remember there was once he wanted to describe the peak and low of graphs, and his animated actions were so unintentionally contrasting to his usual self that, we were trying hard not to laugh.

He didn’t know it was comical to us, as we were all trying hard to stifle the urge to burst out laughing.

All of us looked weird, and he thought we didn’t understand.

So, he did the whole squatting gesture to point to the base of the transparency screen again to illustrate his point, till I had to bury my head into my arms, to laugh.

Yingjun was sitting beside me then, and I could see him adam’s apple moved as he tried hard not to snigger.

Secondary 2, I was only 14.

Mr Teo sat me down at the stool, and the first thing he asked in Mandarin, was, ‘Did I scold you before?‘

Seriously, he was so much fun to have in class that I didn’t remember him in a bad way.

I shook my head and said no. Perhaps because I had always managed to escape, or act like a good girl when he wasn’t in sight.

And his mellowed self was definitely different from the aggressive self, and I met his wife at Rene’s full month celebration.

Apparently, his aged mother is a friend of Dave’s mother.

Such is a small world.

I don’t think I will speak with so much affection for my secondary 3 or 4 teachers, not even my form teacher, I am sure, though they might remember me more vividly than he does.

But Mr Teo, is different. I remember him quite fondly since my secondary 2 days. To the extent that, I was never quite fearful of him as the discipline master.

Note: Maybe because I never had problems with the disciplinary figures in school, until my parents let rip that they had been called to the principal’s(that basket Tham Tuck Meng who made irresponsible speech about Malaysia and Singapore issue back then) office when I was in secondary 4.

I have not even ventured into Tham’s office for the entire 4 years, and yet they were invited?

I never did want to ask why and what, but perhaps I would ask my Dad in time to come. I am curious.

And as we caught up a little, Dave and Eileen were both perturbed why was I chatting to a middle-aged guy with so much enthusiasm.

Eventually I thought of a small incident that I didn’t manage to share with him.

1997. Graduation Day.

I had ran away from home from my fighting parents, taking refuge at a friend’s place.

My friend was a nerd, who offered to coach me for ‘O’ levels, so I didn’t have bad company back then, except for the rebel in me.

Felicia had paged me to attend my graduation.

I decided I shall, but I didn’t want to go home.

So I went straight to her place that morning, since she was staying right next to River Valley High School back then in Pandan Gardens.

Since I was in shorts and tee, I didn’t have my school uniform nor my school shoes with me.

I needed to borrow Felicia’s.

She very kindly lent me hers, and Felicia had always had the cleanest uniform.

Problem was, she was 13 cm shorter than I am, and of slightly bigger built.

So, the ill-fitted uniform looked like a lingerie on me. Short and loose.

Anyway, she lent me her shoes, which were a tad loose for me since my feet were relatively small.

And, I had a crew cut back then, remember?

I didn’t like to gel it, and it was all over the place, all fluffy and unkempt.

The moment came, when class 4I had to proceed onto stage to get their report books from the then-Miss Soh.

As I queued, I could remember the disapproving stares from the lower-secondary students, and it was obvious cos they were looking at the hems of the uniform.

As I was a very unhappy teenager, I threw a cold-stare back, without a care.

As index number 4 strutted up the stage, there was a slight defiant swagger in her steps as the tomboy as she always was.

Slowly, everyone started tearing, and as I almost did, a tap on the shoulder alerted me.

I turned and saw Mr Teo standing right behind me, on the stage. I smirked, and knew what was in for me.

I guess it was quite prominent to be approached on the stage by the discipline master in front of the whole school, eh?

He wasn’t angry nor did he raise his voice, but he asked in Mandarin why my uniform was so darn short, and that it was indecent.

What a memorable last day in secondary school.

I defended myself, quite lamely that my uniform was stained by the chemical during O levels Chemistry practical, which was days prior to the graduation.

Mrs Look came over and didn’t speak a word.

They didn’t scold nor lecture. But just said that I should get a change of uniform from the Student Counsillor’s room after the graduation.

But, hello?! That would be my last day in school and we weren’t even having lesson! Why would I wanna borrow a change of uniform to head home in?

Of course, I didn’t heed it, and I went back to join my peers on stage. No fuss, no lecture. Unscathed. Of course, most people beneath the stage would have seen it.

And when I saw the final picture when everyone was lined up on stage, I wasn’t in it!

@*^#@%$%@$!

Anyway, that was the last piece of memory he left me with in River Valley.

***

Mr Teo left and slowly, the rest of the bikers Eileen invited reached, inclusive of Mr Ex, Philip.

I spent some time away from the crowd cos I had enough of people telling me I am fat, and that I needed some time to myself.

I had a great time cuddling the little bundle of joy.

I am getting maternal with Creamy, and now, with Rene.

My first touch, with her.

Aww…. such a sweetie in my arms.

Ugly picture above, but I don’t care.

She slept throughout her ordeal in my arms.

She doesn’t like me much, does she?

Hahaha.

Anyway, what her parents had told me was that she has an extremely high-pitched voice, and loves to be photographed.

Easily startled by loud noises, like thunders.

And, she loves to stay awake till it was 4am in the morning.

I attributed it to the fact that the mother had read too much of my blog, and my god daughter is taking after me.

Muahahaha.

No darling, don’t grow up to be a person like me, alright?

***

I will blog about my affinity with Rene in time to come. I would have done so today but I thought I wouldn’t have the time since I would be rushing out for a coffee session later on.

I cuddled her close to me, and said a little prayer with her in my arms.

Lord, do look after this little gem here, and guide her along in life. Amen.

Joanne gave me a lift home, and as we got out from the carpark, Mr Ex was leaving too.

With the pretty helmet I so much wanted to get. Yes, yes, Rossi. The helmet, not him.

As we sped along Bukit Batok road, I jokingly looked to him and asked him to pull a wheelie, as we saw 2 police cars behind.

Mr Ex had decided that a litre bike would suit him more, and might want to let go of his ZX12R.

Spent my evening at home mopping, wiping, and showering Creamy.

Alvin, Denise and Eric turned up slightly after Creamy and I showered(Yes, I showered with her in the bathroom, not together though), and it was another mahjong session which I lost.

The little cutie was just happy that there were people to play with her.

Just after they left, it wasn’t long before I succumbed to the sleepybug and ended my day by midnight.

Ah well.

Mundane stuffs, eh?

Oh, heh, a gorgeous picture Pablo Nieto sent me through MSN.

I thought it was too hot not to share with everyone.

Tsk tsk. If only some of these beautiful people would let me shoot them instead.

*SLURP SLURP*
I rest my case.