Oh yes, it has just hit me how the title is filled with liberal load of sexual innuendos, which I had somehow not noticed prior to giving it its body.

It’s 5.11 in the morning.

I have finally finished my read, and sparing some generous time with words. Oh, dispensing, I meant, instead of absorbing.

My stumpy fingers on my left hand, are all rigid and sore, after fastening the book in its position for hours today, and yesterday.

Don’t get me started on the hardened back and shoulder muscles, though a delightful pop to the neck would somehow ease the tensions built up.

***

I took a relatively long walk today.

I circled almost the entire Jurong East area as I strolled to McDonald’s to satisfy my cravings, before heading towards Alvin’s, cutting through the estate, and then was informed the impromptu mahjong sessions was cancelled.

I saw another familiar face as I stepped into the McDonald’s. A lower-secondary school classmate whom I thought was rather double-faced back in lower secondary, perhaps due to her lack of security, which caused her to set herself and people around her up for academic and social rivalry.

She was always the sweetie pie back then, and yet, she managed to portray the role of victim convincingly, and faults were pinned to a very dear friend of mine after she had walked away from the juvenile betrayal of friendship.

A classic line from her back then, gave me a shudder, and had since etched very deeply within me.

So impressionable that, despite it being more than 10 years, whenever the phrase is mentioned, I still have the image of her flashing by. And perhaps, because of her, I never quite like that philosophy in life, after seeing how it could destruct someone else’s confidence.

人不为己，天诛地灭。

Every man for himself.

Of course, people do change, and that was a decade ago. I was told that she becomes a genuinely pleasant lady, and it is always cool to rediscover people in ways you never will expect.

I always thought how interesting it is that lessons we learnt when we were young and ignorant, plague us the most.

I think the cultural shock is a forceful factor, that armours us with truth, after it scares the shit out of us with what the human mind is capable of, and how ugliness of the character is always so near to us, though we had never thought so.

Then, we ourselves turn ugly as we become cynics.

We disappoint and scare some people, and the effects dominoed.

Vicious cycle.

***

I was pretty alright with the last minute cancellation of the game, and was somehow in glee that I finally could continue with the book, and possibly finishing it by today.

I had intended to stay home to finish it, and to save some moolah, after rejecting the guys’ invition for a game tonight(and it was Boon’s birthday somemore!).

I had sworn off Battlefield, after having dreams of it for bloody 3 nights, everyday after the previous game.

I was immensely relieved when I finally rid of those dreams last night, but wasn’t quite pleased that I was woken by countless other meaningless dreams.

I wouldn’t want them to return so promptly after I shrugged them off, ya know?

I think it is better for me to hold off the urge till Sunday…. the curfew I had set for myself.

Yeah.. I should.

Cuff my hands, will ya?

***

I strutted by places… and wisps of memories caught up.

I chose one out of the pair of benches at the lobby, with the playful breeze hovering, and sat down.

My mind idled as I sipped my tea, gulped down the McSpicy till the last bite(couldn’t manage it), and struggled with the fries.

I sat there, and suddenly the image of a band concert I attended at Anderson Junior College in 1999 came to mind, and a very distant character in my life came up.

The flute. And the questions that weren’t answered.

I heard he had became a teacher.

Interestingly, I realise how little anger I had spared for the people in my life.

He became a stranger, though as I think back, nothing much affects me anymore though the questions which are left unanswered still tickle the curiosity in me.

I wish I am less curious a person.

I somehow wish I am more generous with my angst and hatred.

I somehow am too eager to slam down whatever speculation that I am a nice person.

***

I remember, someone recently commented that I am a nice person, and that roused that dormant angst in me.

I am apalled and find it ironic that it was that easy to rouse that anger in me.

Something I do not understand either.

Why am I even angry? I guess I didn’t like that.

I was quick to reach out for that black crayon, and sadistically, zealous to refuke that.

I became someone, who is eager to prove that I am not.

A nice person, that is.

Am not.

I don’t want to be.

***

I have read words these days, by other ladies.

Spoke of things I couldn’t have wrote myself.

Raw and unsculpted.

I wish, I have the luxury, too.

Somehow I guess, the beauty of words is such, when you can find your voices, in others’.

The same words that deprived us of strength, yet recharged us.

Hang in there, ladies.

You’ll pull through.

***

I couldn’t quite remember what time I finally dropped the book this morning before I surrendered myself to my abused system.

I think it gotta be near 8am.

My body protested vehemently when I was jolted to consciousness when SBB called around 5pm, though the mind was taken aback by the timing.

I guess I had wanted to be up by 3, solely because it would give me an early start to my reading, and possibly ending it earlier.

There was laundry and house chores to be done too..

Well, at least I snuck in some chores in between the pages, as I grew slightly restless.

Oh, I even do my homework, too.

***

For the first time in my life, I actually did my homework, and not nick people’s and duplicated a compiled copy.

You see, I used to be quite ethical as a copycat. I would not want to get people into trouble, and of course, in a competitive school, everyone is pretty anal about you copying their homework, exploiting their efforts.

Oh well.

But, good thing was, I was sitting near the History subject representative in class back then, and I could always borrow the whole stack of submitted assignments.

With my utmost dignity, I would skim through their answers, and picked the few best ones out of them.

I would then snitch different points from each one, and *tadang*… an unique script would then be under my name.

And thus, despite being the F9-er in class, my summary skills would garner me pretty good grades.. Alas, for the assignments only.

The problem is, I could never under my text, cos they were too English intensive, and I lagged behind badly for the subject I truly adore.

Not to mention how words would fail me whenever we had to submit 16 pages of relentless words within an hour of test.

Anyway, it is interesting how I became conscientious.

I actually took out my book and revise like how the teacher had instructed.

Bravo.

I didn’t even do this for my advanced diploma course, ya know?

***

Speaking of people from the past.

I met up with Jiehua(Chris) at Holland Village Starbucks(ahem, we didn’t even order anything) late Sunday evening, before I embarked on a night of vicious killing.

He had very kindly saved me 60 bucks, after lending me his textbook and workbook for the course I am doing.

The even more interesting fact is that, we haven’t been in contact since…. secondary school.

We were classmates in lower-secondary, and conversations didn’t go beyond a casual hi since we were 15.

It took 10 years, before we could sit down and talk again, no thanks to Friendster.

We sat down, chatted about ex-classmates, and mused about the differences since then.

We spoke of common topics, as he had spent half a year in Italy, and some time in Spain, hence picking up a bit of both languages.

It’s interesting how you could start talking to someone you didn’t quite talk much to, even in the past, yet because of the concession of being an old pal, would evoke so much memories, and set the conversation rolling.

He’s a great guy, just like my impression of him, 10 years back.

And in an 8-year relationship, without ever straying. Tsk tsk. Gotta give it to him man.

Rediscovering people.

Cool.

***

I left home early to get myself some late lunch (or early dinner), and made the mistake of going to the coffee shop on the other side of the estate, the one I go frequently for my supper.

BIG MISTAKE.

I ended up being the sole female there, surrounded by 40 men.

From the time I ordered my food, to the time I finished it, I had to endured curious stares, ceaseless whistles, and rude peeks over the shoulder.

Worse thing was, I was heading to town, so, was looking more feminine than my usual self.

I then learnt how fastfood joint might be a better bet the next time round.

***

Stopped by Dhoby Ghaut to check some stuff out before heading to United Square.

I finally attended my lesson, and could only offer a cheeky grin when asked why I missed my 1st lesson.

The teacher was an absolute darling though.

Class is small.

A Brazilian man(ahem), a Thai man, and 3 Singaporean ladies.

Plus me.

***

Ciao, come stai? Come ti chiami? Di dove sei?

Oooo yeah, I am learning, ha, hardly surprising, Italian.

I nearly flipped the tables and chairs when I have to keep up with the tongue rolling, especially with the ‘Rrrrrrrrrrr…’

I had a hard time untying my tongue.

Now I suspect Italians are great kissers due to the nature of their language.

But darn, I wouldn’t know cos I have never kissed one.

I shall pick up the language and see if the constant tongue rolling would improve mine instead.

Muahahahaha.

And I realise how atrociously ungifted I am, when it comes to linguistic skills.

Maybe I should switch to music. Er no, sports, maybe. No no, I am not fit, so er.. sheesh, am I really good-for-nothing?!

No, you can put your lips brains to good use, SBB would argue.

But that’s bullshit too.

How many people would actually know that? Tsk tsk.

***

After the class dismissed, I spoke to the teacher about Italy.

She comes from Florence, or Firenze, in native terms.

I started joking that I am learning the language so I could tell my favourite MotoGP rider to marry me.

Her eyes widened as she heard the word MotoGP and then squealed excitedly that how she had been to the past MotoGP in Sepang with her husband in the past 2 years she has been in Singapore.

She then mentioned Valentino Rossi, and was gesturing with both hands to her lips, sending imaginary flying kisses as she spoke of her affections for the best rider in the world.

She was so incredibly adorable!

Then, I started to doubt that she is ever gonna teach me how to say, Marry me, Vale, in Italian.

***

I was immensely tired as I took a long journey home, until Mr Neighbour(who used to be a biker and used to be a blogger) messaged me to have supper.

He was someone whom I found out to be a neighbour through his blog.

He told me of his adoration for LMD’s blog, and was how I first read her blog in 2004.

We haven’t met for more than a year, though we are just couple of blocks away.

So, he has ceased to blog, and even ceased to ride!

He picked me up from Clementi MRT in his selfish car, before we dropped by Fong Seng for gossips and bitchings.

Why am I hanging out with people who hardly know Chinese these days huh?

***

Oh, I forgot to mention how my teacher gave me an Italian name, like how she gave everyone one.

It’s interesting to note that the 2 guys in my class, one of which is Paolo, another is Andrea, just like the 2 friends of mine!

Muahaha, next time I could just tell Vale my name is Gioia, and perhaps he would understand me better.

Gioia Rossi.

Sounds sweet(with the cognome, surname, that is), doesn’t it?

“Gio” is pronouced like how you would to Giorgio Armani, or when you pronounce the alphabet G-E-O in lightning speed, and for “ia”, yee-Ah.

It means joy, and gem, by the way.

Yes, I can do with lotsa of both.

Christmas?!?!

I bet you would throw the question at me, not without a dash of dubiousness.

Uhm, yeah, Christmas 2005, which I had failed to journal due to the strange sleeping patterns I have these days, as well as my reluctance to be anywhere near my monitor.

Then again, not exactly true.

I am always near my monitor(hello?! My bed is right next to it), just that I don’t feel any urge to work on it.

I still blog, I do. Just not as substantially as I would in the past.

Then again, I have been spending time in front of the monitor too. 12 hours straight. Though not my own.

Those constant nights-out at the LAN gaming place had consumed much of my enthusiasm for blogging too.

What an irony.

I have blogged almost everyday for January, but yet I feel as if I have not written for months.

I guess that happens when you type endless flow of words, for the sake of searching for something in the deep recesses of your mind…

Something, that seems to be misplaced somewhere, but you just couldn’t put a finger to where exactly it is.

That connection.. that spur of inspiration that would come easily in a snap of fingers, took on a camouflage of dormancy that had caused nothing short of immense irritation in me.

***

I am not sure if I am doing all that I can to make myself feel more useful these days.

Read. Courses. Lessons. Avoiding the masses.

Futile attempt.

My plan to get my system back on path miscarriaged yet again today.

I tried to sleep at 6am yesterday, after grudgingly putting down my read, only to be subjected to the first jump of my sleep when the phone rang at slightly past 7.

Went back to sleep at 8, until a terrible crackling sound startled me enough to sat upright from my bed in the midst of my deep sleep, giving out a desperate shrill.

I dove under the duvet for protection as I grimaced in fear, filled with regrets that I had exposed my torso in the open to be chilled by the air-conditioner.

Something I rarely do.

I could feel the rapid thumping within, and my nails dug into my palm as I clung onto the duvet and my baby pillow, terrified.

Why was I so scared, I asked myself.

Right then, I heard a loud slam, not unlike that of an explosion.

I was totally sober from the slight percent of drowsiness, and hid there, curled up for the longest time.

Until, the rambles of the sky seemed distant enough. Enough for me to sit up, embraced tightly by the duvet, and looked for company on MSN.

I took a moment, to gather the spirits, which was blown into pieces by the sudden storm.

It was 4pm.

I didn’t know I have slept that long.

***

The rest of the day, was spent finishing 400 pages of Jeffery Deaver in a single breath.

I think I am morphing into Lincoln Rhyme, a quadriplegic, with that sharp pain between the back of my neck and back, only lying on my bed and hardly doing anything elsewhere.

Alright. I should catch some decent sleep tonight and not oversleep for tomorrow’s lesson.

Tsk tsk. I hope I won’t be otracised by the class for missing the all-important first lesson on Monday.

Yeap, the one I missed for the time I had spent being killed over and over again in action, on the Battlefield.

***

After we had our game at Parklane that night, we had walked over to Hotel Rendevous’ kopitiam for supper.

Right then, Brian had tempted Vamp and me into another game, which made me see for the first time how VampTreSS would ‘teyh‘ Roy to get her way, which quite obviously, generated some reaction from me.

Cringe. Cringe. Cringe.

Vamp and me didn’t hesitate nor make the slightest complaint that we had to walk over to Peninsula Plaza from where we were just to satisfy our cravings.

The poor attendant to the shop was too sound asleep to be roused, and Vamp was patting him on the shoulder, pushing his arm, and Brian was trying to move his leg just to get him to wake up.

After some combined efforts, he finally stood up, and staggered like a drunk to the counter.

Brian and I had not suppressed the laughter when we saw him eye-lids heavy, nearly losing his balance as he walked zig-zag to the counter.

It was then, war.

For most of that dreadfully, excruciatingly long game, I had to endure this:

I was knived, C4-ed, Arti-ed, ran over, whatever and whatever.

So angry that I was angry like a potato.

The 2 more experienced ones were engrossed, and were a picture of calmness and peace as they fought fervently, whereas the demure lady in me was dishing out swear words that would make a sailor blush.

Well well, I thought I would be a picture of cool like how games of mahjong had cultivated that patience, and composure.

Apparently that doesn’t happen when it comes to LAN gaming.

I had to listen to some music to relieve those angst that was built up to an unhealthy level within.

VampTreSS has branded me a ‘screamer’ and that has no kinky ring to it, and should not be interpreted as what I am capable of, in private moments which I am sure SBB could leave a comment and vouch for.

And, by 10.18am, this was how ghastly the trio look like.

Pale. Sleepy.. and… battered.

But! We managed to stay alert for almost another 3 hours.

So people, when is the next game of Battlefield coming up?

Sunday, steady?

I’ll try to get SBB this time round.

Hurhurhur.

If he is not too shy to meet the rest.

***

Oh. Back to the topic.

Christmas.

Since we were out till late on Christmas’ Eve, it was no surprise that it took us a while to come up with some plans.

It was 7.15pm when I finally left the house.

I remember it, because I had wanted to get a gift, and had called up the shop which informed me that they would close at 8pm.

By the time I reached there in a cab, it was 7.45pm when I saw the shutter aggressively rolled down in a loud clatter.

I would have cursed relentlessly but I didn’t want to spoil the Christmas mood.

I walked to City Hall to do some last minute shopping, and seeing the bustling crowd jostling in MNG.

I managed to get a last minute pressie for Serene, since out of those who would be present, I hadn’t planned anything for her.

It was a nice pinkish mirror, with sparkly dust on it, which goes well with the box of purplish scented pebbles.

Pink and purple! So Christmassy!

I went to Toa Payoh by train and bus, and was so proud of myself.

***

We had went to the nearby hawker center for our Christmas dinner, local style.

Oysters(fried oyster omelette), fruit salad(rojak), ham(pig’s trotter), turkey(Peking chicken and chicken wings), finger food(dumplings), seafood(stingray and sotong), steak and such(bah chor mee).

Each of us had ordered food for ourselves(I had steak, Serene had fried rice, and the rest, a bowl of noodles, each), and those food on the table(and more which hadn’t been served) were just part of the spread we shared.

*Burp*

6 of us. Nick, Serene, Boon, Roy, Vamp and me.

Kelvin, Harry, Dexter, and Leslie joined us shortly after.

Kelvin even gave each of us a keyring, and I was beaming with pride with the one I had, ‘Angel Way’, as compared to the more demeaning ones the rest had received.

*Beams*

I flaunted it happily and he gave me the usual putdown of how it was Christmas, and thus, that would be the only time he would be nice to me.

Bleah.

Out of those who came later, only Kelvin stayed for the 2nd half of the program, where we adjourned to Nick’s place for some DVDs.

I have no idea why, I grew increasingly edgy as the night proceeded.

The group borrowed 2 DVDs for the night, and the first one was a comedy which is something I hadn’t heard of, Without a Paddle.

And now, R. Kelly’s Bump and Grind(My mind is tellin me nooooo… but my body my body’s tellin me yes) makes me see the song in a whole new light -chokes back laughter-.

And I can’t get ‘Do you really wanna hurt me… Yes I really wanna hurt you..’ out of my mind now.

The worst? The heavy accented ‘I will give you 2 cows’….

Alright, all these would remain as private jokes exclusively to those who were there that night.

***

The 2nd movie that came up agitated me in many ways I couldn’t quite comprehend.

I had even wanted to leave halfway through the show.

Hotel Rwanda is a great movie, and to see humans at their most brutal, is never an easy thing to deal with.

When it was finally 5 plus in the morning, when both movies ended, I finally hopped on a cab to somewhere where it was safe and relaxing for me, home.

There was this gladness that I was back in its familiarity.

Next time, we should ban the playing of mood-affecting movies on festive seasons like this.

And yes, that pretty much sums up a pretty unadventurous, yet cosy Christmas.

Still, Christmas, is still my favourite event of the year.

***

Finally going on to my next read. Had wanted to start on it, but had squandered 2 hours of my time on the phone after finishing my last read at 4am.

And some little time on this recap.

And that’s my 3rd book, also Jeffery Deaver, for the year. I am suspecting that it’s going to go slow again because I would be heading out once again, and that would always disrupt the progress of my reading.

Any other suspense writer to recommend?

Preferably those with really witty plots and unexpected twists.

I am thinking of reading Tuesday with MorrisTuesdays with Morrie, how is it?

I should be looking for cheaper alternatives before I declare bankruptcy prematurely.

No, I am kidding.

But perhaps it is time for me to do so.

Or, considering to change my moniker.

Couple of weeks ago when I signed up for the membership of the 24-hour LAN gaming shop at Peninsula Plaza, the boisterous ah-beng helping out his friend at the counter volunteered his handwriting kindheartedly.

It was just pretty sad that he spelt VampTreSS real-life name with a slight mistake.

I was apalled to see mine spelt wrongly, too.

I had used the name, Joewei, like how I had opted it over my dialect name on most other occasions.

Last Wednesday, when I was filling up the form for yet another membership, my name was once again spelt wrongly.

And the same way it was spelt by the ah-beng the previous time!

I think I should question my own handwriting.

Or maybe, the way they spelled my name has something to do with their perception of me.

Then again, who in the right mind would call themselves ‘JOEWET?’

Hmmm… uhm… er…. uh… erm… ehh…

I know I wouldn’t.

And hello? Do I look like a Joewet to you?

And I have no intention of using the blog address of http://joewet.blogspot.com, yet.

***

And yes, if you really have to know, I overslept.

And it is something I seldom do.

I woke up at 8pm, and rightfully angry with myself.

I can’t describe the disappointment over missing my first lesson.

My mind kept replaying what I could have potentially missed, and it sets myself into a tiny frenzy that I might be too slow to catch up the next time round without my basics in place.

I was so pissed with myself that it lasted for only 5 minutes before my internal reproaching casted a spell on me, and I fell back into a deep slumber.

The anger dissipated at 11pm…

SBB sounded incredulous when he called at slightly past 11, and I sheepishly admitted that I had woken up less than 10 minutes before the call came in.

It pretty up sums up my day as it was the usual CSI/reading, since the grogginess had yet to wear off for me to blog.

And, did I mention that the nap between 3pm-8pm, was haunted by a lengthy dream of… you guessed it, Battlefield.

I could almost hear the ringing of Brian and Vamp’s voices as they commanded me to look out here, cover there, hide here, follow there, shoot that darn sniper hidden somewhere….

Right..

This is, so no good.

Hurhur, I bet you had anticipated something SBB related, right?

Wrong!

This shall be a quick one.

I thought nothing would beat last week’s insanity, but apparently, I had no idea.

Imagine this….

The game of Battlefield 2 started at 11.15pm.

It ended close to 4 hours thereafter, when we finally adjourned to supper.

Out of those 6 present, 3 went home, and the other 3 were craving for more.

So what did they do?

They went to Peninsula Plaza’s 24-hour LAN gaming place, and monopolised 3 stations since 4.30am.

I thought I could catch some McDonald’s breakkie thereafter, ya know?

Ladies and gentleman, at 2.48pm, I am glad to announce that I have just finished shower, right after I had finished my latest round of Battlefield 2 with VampTreSS and Brian.

We finally ceased war at 1pm.

And McDonald’s breakkie was no more!

I am impressed.

I thought I had woken up early yesterday to tune my system back to normal, BUT….

And after going on for 24 hours without any sleep, I have only 2 hours to catch a nap, before I have to wake up at 5pm.

Well done.

It is my FIRST lesson tonight, and I am thinking of calling in sick.

And I wonder how am I going to survive the 2 hours of lessons without the help of toothpicks to pry my eyes open.

Perhaps I should just stay awake till evening.

I am wondering if I could make it without the 2 hours nap or not.

I have a very bad feeling about tonight.

Very bad.

I am totally consumed by delirium right at this moment, and before I talk things that doesn’t make sense, and embarrass myself further, and say things I shouldn’t say, and say things I ought not to say, and say things I might potentially regret……

I better go grab some sleep.

The real life klutz was capable of bringing a dash of her screw-ups ditzy-ness into virtual reality too.

How cool is that?

And it is no wonder that as the others chattered enthusiastically about their heroic acts in the previous game of Battlefield 2, when the discussion was on me, it is likely to be one that filled with endless booboos.

Hardly a hero, ya know?

And when I finally DO bring someone down, I was often accused of peeping at their screen, which is unlikely, cos I still have not master the art of analysing 2 monitors at the same time.

In due time, in due time. Soon, soon.

Hello?! I am not THAT bad, okay?

***

And as the sunshine returned for a day yesterday, I rushed to get my laundry done, and enjoyed the home reeking of fresh laundry and detergent.

I rested well for the night, scrambling into the duvet before the day became fully litted.

Alas, the sleep was a greatly disturbed one as I woke up intermittently to check if it rained, so that I could rush to get the damp laundry in.

Woke up by 3pm today, conceivably due to the absence of cosy rain that I had grown accustom to.

Partly because I am adamant to retire before the sun rises tomorrow, slowly adjusting myself to run on a more normal system.

The rain has returned on a lazy Sunday late noon, and when days like this when you are staying in and not doing much else except sweating out with the usual house chores, such weather, is a bliss.

And now?

I am craving for yet another war tonight, and I wonder if anyone is up for it.

***

I had put off my recap for Wednesday(11 January) for the longest time… cos it just seems like a relatively odd day for me.

Whatever emotion you can think of, I probably had went through it on that very day.

However contrasting, however extreme.

It was like a grouchy PMS-sy day which was yet sweet and nice.

In fact, I felt pretty good and yet pretty awful at the same time.

***

It was a beautiful coincidence.

I dragged my arse out of bed at 2 plus, and ventured down to Novena by cab, heading for United Square to run some errands.

My next intended stop was perhaps Dhoby Ghaut to check some stuff out, before heading down to Lavender in the evening.

After I was done with my errands, I decided to roam around the place a bit more since I drop by that part of the country like, say, once or twice a year?

And I was shopping around for something, for a friend.

I saw a florist stacked away somewhere, and was strutting towards it, as I passed by this quiet part of the mall.

From a distance, I saw one lone figure striding out, exactly where the lady in the picture is.

I took a bare glance and thought I had seen the person somewhere.

I walked on, before I stopped in my path for a longer look.

I stood at where I was, and paused.

Wow, the resemblance is uncanny, I thought.

But it couldn’t be.

Cos as he covered the few meters towards my direction, he didn’t seem to recognise me, even though he was looking in my direction.

I thought he really look like someone I know, though I didn’t think it was him either. Didn’t think it was possible, you see.

Suddenly, as he came nearer into my view, I waved fervently like a little girl.

He was still looking at me without any expression.

Uh-oh, I must have gotten the wrong person, I thought.

As he walked nearer.. couldn’t be! Must be him!

‘OI!’ I called out, feeling slightly hurt-ed that he didn’t recognise me.

‘Eh!’ He was clearly surprised.

It was the first time ever we had bumped into each other. We asked what each other was doing there, and I chided him for not recognising me.

He was really pleased to see me, and eagerly asked me to join him, since he was working there.

He wanted me to check out his work site. He was taking a break from work to have tea with a friend, and he put an arm on my shoulder to ask me to join him.

The arm on the shoulder, as he led me the direction he was walking and that he wanted me to meet his friend.

I registered that.

Might as well, since I have no further plans.

It became, a sweet, simple and nice afternoon teaing with him and his 2 friends.

Before we ventured around the entire United Square, as I checked out the site he is working on for the month.

I marvelled at the string of coincidences, since I seldom go to United Square.

We then had dinner together at this noodle place.

Spending 3 hours of quality time together.

***

This was what he was working on.

And yes people, meet my beloved Dad, who failed to recognise his own daughter. Bleah.

Eventually, he went into the this room with his 2 friends without telling me, and I was left standing with 8 of his Bangladeshi workers.

I was slightly abashed and could only give embarrassed smiles to them, and they were rather friendly.

I wondered where Dad had disappeared to, and decided to join him when the wait had became a tad too long.

I walked up the platform, and stood there, as I tried to open the door, but failed.

The workers standing below were all looking at me wrestling with the handle and giving me instructions which I couldn’t quite figure out as I tried depressing the handle(well, that’s the only way to open a door, no?).

Some of them were giggling, some of them were sniggering, some of them were smiling.

I looked down, and gave my usual goofy, helpless smile, and it felt even worse that I was standing on a height, as if I was on stage or something.

Suddenly, the door swung open towards me, and I lost my footing.

I was nearly flung off the platform since there wasn’t any railings.

I nearly gave a bloodcurdling shrill of ‘MURDER!’, but realised the murderer was actually my dad.

The door is only open-able from the inside, it seems.

Bleah.

As Dad emerged out of the room and went back into the building, I trailed behind him and gave the sheepishest of smile to the friendly, grinning(and gawking) workers as we left.

So… embarrassing.

I think I was like the comical entertainment for them that noon.

***

Dad had always wanted me to show me his work, and had suggested that I follow him around his sites.

I agreed to it in the past, but it never happened.

But I am immensely glad that I managed to do so this time round, and realised how proud he is of me…. though I seriously feel there is nothing about me he could be proud of.

***

I stayed around the mall till it was past 7, before Dad offered to drive me down to Lavender.

***

On Monday night, I scrolled my entire phonebook in a state of panic as I was banished into a world of darkness due to the blackout.

I scrolled aimlessly down the list of people, and registered a name that was in my phone. Anthony.

I thought of the name, and didn’t realise I have his number in my phone. I made a slight pause, and thought of him briefly, even though he was just perhaps, an acquaintance. I dropped a mental note to remind myself that I have his number in case I need to contact him.

Anthony was the guy I did the telemarketing I so abhorred, as mentioned couple of months ago.

On Tuesday evening, when Alvin was driving Denise and me out for Karaoke, I dialled for Mingwei, asking if he was free to meet up, so I could pay for my policy.

He sounded grim.

It was then, he muttered a sentence, which I didn’t quite catch before his connection cut us off.

As we established the call again, he repeated what he had said, and that Anthony had passed away.

I was….. dumbfounded.

Blood disorder, it was.

***

I felt a little apprehensive about attending a funeral.

Not because I am fearful, but because I always get unfathomably affected.

And I didn’t know…. that Cynthia, whom I once worked part-time for, and I truly adore, is actually in a relationship with Anthony.

There were plans to get married this year, I was told.

I wish I never have to go through this kind of anguish, or loss, ever.

***

It was lots of familiar faces of financial advisors and everyone, including Cynthia, seems pretty much well.

In fact, it was the usual talks and looking through past pictures as the group huddled together, laughing at old memories.

Of course, I felt like the odd one out of the group, and left pretty promptly after seeing Cynthia was coping well.

She has always been a lady of strength and positivity, and it shone through as she ran the place well, in her usual jovial self, as if it was an episode of life she has to go through, and deal with.

***

SBB called on the night when I was at Karaoke and I told him about the demise of a friend, strangely, after I had briefly thought about him.

Okay sweetie, don’t ever think of me from now on, okay?

Oh well, who says I ever did?

***

I took a train with one of the girls who attended the wake.

We spoke, we chatted, we walked.

In the end, we didn’t get each other’s contact either as we moved on to different destinations. Bugis, City Hall.

I alighted, and beamed, ‘Nice meeting you!‘, meaning every word of it.

She is nice.

‘Yeap! Nice meeting you too. I will say hi if we ever bump into each other on the streets, by chance.‘

Brief encounter.

And I thought, there is something strangely sweet about how we let fate decide if we would ever meet again.

***

I took a slow, pensive walk to Sim Lim to meet up with Nick, Taka, Aileen and Roy.

It was drizzling.

We waited for Boon, and it started pouring.

Thunders and the works.

Feeling anaemic.

We walked in the bizarre shower towards Parklane, where we were supposed to meet up with the rest of the gang.

It was pretty fun, actually.

Yeap, it was.

***

It was then, 4 hours of gaming, and countless booboos from me.

Just a tad silly that I was getting real anaemic and sickly progressively and I didn’t feel as alert as I should be.

***

As we dispersed after the game, Roy, Vamp, Brian and I adjourned to Mr Bean across the road for supper.

Chicken chop wasn’t too bad, and I was getting increasingly sleepy.

While devouring a sausage(oh yes, I have yet to blog about sausages) in my state of delirium, Roy took a couple of pictures…

And he threatened to start up a hate site blog, dedicated to me, with all the incriminating pictures he has of me.

Well done.

We sat around for the longest time(it felt like it), before we finally made a move for home.

Only get to sleep around 7 plus in the morning after a couple of phone calls with SBB.

***

Things I do when playing Battlefield 2:

Booboo 1 – When attempting to learn to fly a plane, I asked my team mate, Brian, who was sitting right next to me how to do it.

The very brilliant help told me to press the ‘W’ key.

I did.

And I was killed less than 2 seconds later.

But what the basket didn’t tell me that, ‘W’ key was for the jet to move and launch forward, and I have to make it take off.

So it is no wonder that my jet smashed into the nearest building and I was dead.

Booboo 2 – It was a map with lotsa buildings in sight, and I made the wrong judgment of choosing to be a sniper.

The opposing team, comprises of Taka and Boon, were all in tanks, and there wasn’t any use of the sniper rifle.

I ended up sitting up on the building, without any use for my sniper rifle, for almost 20 minutes.

So, it was as if I was never part of the game.

I was so bored that I could either smash the monitor, or perhaps jump down the building and see myself(the soldier, that is) fall to my death.

I didn’t.

I ended up going into the game and get myself killed. Many times, I might add.

Booboo 3 – When I finally gave up trying to learn flying, I decided to hitch a ride in the helicopter with Brian.

All 3 times I was killed.

And I decided he is my jinx.

By right, I am supposed to eject myself out of the plane whenever he tells me so.

What happened was….

‘Okay, eject now,‘ he instructed.

I would take 1 second to digest what he said, another second to turn to him looking totally bewildered, another second to ask ,’Huh? Eject huh?‘, another second to wait for him to reply, ‘yeah, yes, eject now!‘, another second to answer, ‘Oh, eject now huh? Must press E and 9 right?‘, and then another second before I react and finally press.

I would survive, but I would land outside of the game zone, which is restricted area, and I would be killed.

2 times, in a row!!!!!

Argh.

And I shall not mention how I had ditched my tank to run towards the jet to learn to fly it, and saw Brian running towards it as well.

He threatened to shoot me unless I get out of it(that is a real life threat, mind ya), and I relented.

I got on as a passenger, and within a second as the jet picked up speed, we were dead.

It happened too fast, and the himbo hollered at me, ‘You had parked your tank in the middle of the runway!!!!!!‘

And our jet had crashed into the tank I had earlier ditched.

Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooops.

Not my fault what. The pilot never check for clear runway.

Ah well.

But I still want to believe in I have a slight gift in gaming, ya know?

Basically, I don’t think I can write much about MOS.

Was out to support Denise for the event on Thursday, which was held at the highly-acclaimed Ministry of Sound. Strangely, I couldn’t wait to leave the club promptly once the pageant ended, and didn’t continue on to party the night away at the very impressive place.

I must be getting old.

Seriously, I have nothing much to say about the place, except that it is very nice, and seems like a cool place to hang out.

***

It was no wonder that I only woke up at 8pm on Tuesday, after hitting the sack only around noon on the public holiday itself.

I was contemplating on a quiet night in, which would probably cut down on my spending a little(yes, yes, I always TRY to adhere to that, but could never do).

Until, a phone call came in from Alvin around late 8-ish, suggesting to spend the evening mahjong-ing or karaoke-ing.

I okay-ed the plans and left the decision making to the lovely couple.

It was around 10pm, when they dropped by to fetch me to the K-box located at our town center.

Yay.

We finally realised our plans to bring those over-mahjong-table squealing shrilling croaking crooning to a full-systemed room to amplify our lack of talents.

So exciting.

Before you go on, be warned that there will be some revolting pictures(of me makeupless, obviously) from that fateful night, awaiting.

Denise and Alvin getting ready to stretch their powerful vocals.

You see, the problem is, this was the first time I sang with the couple. Thus, that would mean that I was really, really, really *ahem* shy.

Ooo yes. You have no idea how shy I can get.

So, it took some time before I could finally warm up to singing solo.

And when we finally did, we assasinated nailed Zhang Huimei’s Yuan Lai Ni Shen Me Dou Bu Xiang Yao.

And we thought, singing like her, and acquiring her trademarked gestures and expressions, could give us the prowess she owns.

Alas, we failed, terribly.

Vocals, that is.

The only consolation was, we managed to pull off the others pretty, er, convincingly.

Namely, level 9 of the Beggars Clan’s Skills of the Yin-Yang fingers with the Scrunching face.

The lengendary invincible Frowning Brows and Chicken crows move.

The HearSee-No-Evil with Bent Fingers move.

Uhm…

We mastered the ultimate level of the long-lost Scrunchy face and Qigong palm with the Why-why-tell-me-why move, and reigned as Singing Queens, on par with Zhang Hui Ting Mei.

The silly boy didn’t give the required constipated look requested by Denise.

Angst, baby, Angst! Where’s the angst?!

Of course, all pictures are choreographed and we don’t actually sing this way(duh).

***

Chee Kiong joined us near midnight. The night ended close to 2, before we finally made a move, ending the fulfilling evening.

It was nice, to finally yell, scream, shriek, shrill, yike into the microphone, psychologically tormenting those with you as you see them on their knees, asking for your mercy, pleading you to stop in a state of hysteria.

***

It was Thursday, a windy and chilly one.

I sat for 25 minutes at the lobby, enjoying the harsh breeze of the night, and cuddled myself close with my knitted shawl.

Music ringing in my ears, and I let my mind drift.

Feel-bad day.

Rash. Zits. Bloatedness from the evil water-retention. Worst of all, bloody time-of-the-month… Ahh!!!!

Okay, I shall be glad it’s finally here, or it would mean I have some major screw ups somewhere.

It was to support Denise babe for her participation in her school’s pageant, and Alvin had picked me and Eric up for the event.

We went down to HarbourFront to give Alvin’s colleague, Claudia, a lift, before we held our breaths in unison as Alvin teleported sped down to Ministry of Sound by 9.15pm.

Alas, the silly Eric wore sandals(could he get any sillier?!), and was denied entry.

I did the sacred task of smuggling Alvin’s shoes out from the club to a waiting Eric, before sneaking Eric’s sandals into the club for Alvin.

The club was crowded with presumably, students from SMU, who were there for the pageant, and it wasn’t quite an impressive event, because of the poor organisation.

Point 1: One of which is, since the pageant was sponsored by a linger/sleepwear company(Kooshi), I find it inconceivable that they used a Blush! paperbag for one of the segments, which made me feel like going down to Blush! to get myself some new, saucy, sexy, lacey lingerie pieces.

Point 2: They lost the clothes the contestants were supposed to wear just before the event started.

Point 3: The compere did a booboo when she announced the 1st Runner-up name wrongly, and announced the Winner’s name instead. She then apologised for misreading it, and of course, there wasn’t any suspense before we knew who the winner is.

The male compere was pretty good though.

They didn’t quite work the crowd, despite the advantageous venue of MOS.

So, it isn’t surprising that I didn’t particularly enjoy the event, and was just happy to be there for Denise to render the nervous lass some support.

The crowd was pretty young, and I felt a tad old to be there, to be honest.

And I was starting to get real conscious with the feel-bad factor sifting in and out of my system from time to time.

Right after the event drew its conclusion, Alvin, Eric, Claudia and I made a standard obligatory ‘tour’ around the massive club, and were duly impressed by the concepts of the different rooms.

There were some places that seem like nice places to chill, and I would love to go back there once those dancing cells decide to wake themselves from their dormant state.

It was way too crowded, and it didn’t feel any bit of fun.

It was half past 10, when we finally met up with Denise outside the club, and made a move from there.

***

As we were trying to get to the exit, and moving from one part of the 2nd storey to the other, I thought I caught something interesting going on.

It was that of a Chinese girl in a pink top, with a lanky Caucasian, at the side of the railings, that overlooks the dancefloor below.

It was one of the reserved area, so there they were, sitting down there, as streams of patrons like us, waltzed them by.

The girl was sitting back against the railings on a high stool, with the guy standing in front of her, a leg in between hers.

Since the traffic was freaking slow, I did my usual people browsing and saw them. The girl had a smirk on her face, and the guy was looking down onto her, with a look of helplessness….

Oh wait. That wasn’t helplessness.

He arched his head back occasionally, and swayed slightly to the booming music.

Hey wait. That wasn’t swaying.

And there she was, hugging him.

Oh wait, one of her hands wasn’t visible, that wasn’t quite hugging.

He was hugging her, he was almost grabbing her…

Oh, I see.

It was the look of ecstasy, not helplessness.

He wasn’t swaying. He was thrusting.

Oh, her hand was stroking something which I couldn’t quite see.

Mmm…

It was then as we reached the otherside of the walkway, and I turned back. It was then, a look of relief wiped the ecstasy away.

They were both giving each other cheeky, bright grins, and the girl was hugging the guy, sneaking a peek down(since she’s quite short herself) and the guy seemed to be stuffing something in, before doing what looks like zipping up to me.

I mean, why would a girl hug a guy whose hands aren’t cuddling her, but hidden somewhere between them?

If I am not wrong, which I am quite sure I am not, she was wanking him.

***

Then again, it wasn’t the only case. There was yet another couple, a girl in red tube, making out with another Caucasian at the backstage of the pageant.

Woohoo.

So happening.

***

I met a very charming man with very beautiful eyes.

Was glancing back during the pageant to look out for Eric when our gazes met.

He was there with a local colleague when our brief glance met, and I turned away almost immediately when I saw him froze there for the moment. His eyes adorably widened.

Wasn’t in one of those slutty moods of mine, ya know, didn’t want to send out unnecessary wrong signals, ya know.

But I registered his chiselled good looks, and those refreshing sea-blue eyes.

***

We were roaming around the 2nd floor, when suddenly this chap came up to me and struck up a conversation.

He saw me downstairs, he said.

I took a peek at those eyes, and recognised them.

Yeap, I know, I replied with a smile.

A brief conversation, and as we headed from one part of the 2nd storey to another, we bumped into him yet again.

The very nice, and not overly intimidating gentleman halted his colleague and waited for us.

A Californian who has been in Singapore for 2 years.

I was in one of my not so sociable moods, and when I didn’t catch what he said, I just shrugged and told him I have no idea what he was talking about as I tried to distinguish the accent from the loud music.

I don’t enunciate well in loud environment(I already don’t do so in real life!) either.

I must have been like so much a bimbo. How embarrassing.

When he told me he works for Barclay, I think he was worried that I haven’t heard of it, and added that it is a bank.

I didn’t have the chance to tell him that I used to bank with Barclay’s.

He’s cute, and had this laid-back air about him, minus the sleaze.

Coincidentally, he was heading to the club’s entrance to meet a friend of his, whereas we were heading out to meet Denise.

A bouncer interrupted the conversation, and his colleague pulled him over to introduce some chicks to him.

I think it was a tad rude that I didn’t say bye, but I wasn’t feel good enough to be walking up to a group of people and interrupt them just to do so.

I walked out to meet up with the rest of the group.

I wonder. I really wonder.

***

We furthered our programs at Chinatown!

Karaoke again!

And finally, some food to fill those empty tummies.

Once again, our glamourous babe, and the reluctant beau.

It was a fun session as we bitched endlessly.

The very blur and sweet Claudia and us.

It was cold, and I borrowed Claudia’s jacket.

Denise thought she looks like some ge-tai(stage) songstress with her thick makeup, and that I look like her manager or something.

The girly looking Eric, with Denise.

Denise tried to get me to do a Paris Hilton & Nicole Richie.

Mahjong sessions always consist of Eric, Denise, Alvin and me, and since Eric is very much single and available, they were trying real hard to get the chemistry going between me and Eric.

Muahahaha.

And to my surprise, all 4 of our birthdays are pretty close together.

Denise’s is on 19th February. Mine would be the 1st week of March, and Alvin’s on 29th March.

The guys were trying to guess my birthday, and most had assumed I am more of an ‘Earth’ or ‘Fire’ sign, rather than ‘Water’ sign.

And that, we meant the horoscope signs.

Oh, that’s Claudia, me and my toyboy.

The photographer had requested a slutty look from all of us, and apparently, it only comes naturally to me.

It was then when I revealed my birthdate, the couple gasped in surprise and pointed out that my birthday is actually quite near to Eric’s, and that we must be a match in Heaven -chokes-.

I eyed him suspiciously and gee, his birthday is on the 16th March. Just 9 days after mine.

But he’s 2 years younger. Duh. Tsk tsk, young boys.

Oh, and coincidentally, Brian’s birthday is on the same date, too, if I am not wrong, but same year as I do.

***

We ended the session slightly after 2, before Alvin cruised down the expressway with the windows wound down, as they blasted Jay Chou(there will be a day, I would finally stop playing mahjong or sit in his car cos I would be terrified of the constant replaying of the same songs)’s song in the car.

Oh, and Chinatown, is mesmerisingly beautiful in the depths of the night, with the old shop houses flanking the bustling Chinese New Year stalls which are scattered allover.

I thought how I used to be terribly excited over Chinese New Year…

And now, it is just another festive season, another day to pass.

***

A Saturday night, it was, just hours ago.

I only managed to sleep when it was past 11am, after tossing and turning in bed for a couple of hours with the nagging migraine.

I was awoken when the agent brought someone here to view the house at 1.30pm.

I felt the headache still eating me up.

I willed myself to sleep finally when it was after 3pm.

Until a call from SBB woke me up at 7.30pm, to ask if my migraine was getting better.

I opened my eyes and blinked, I tilted my head to the left, then to the right.

I chirped with a tinge of grogginess that it was gone, and was pretty about it.

We spoke of our day(as if I have much to talk about minutes into it), and then I felt the pinch.

Ouch. Dammit.

It’s still there.

The nuisance of a migraine!

We spoke briefly before I returned a call to Alvin and Denise.

Once again, mahjong night. The 4 of us.

Whee.

I survived the night, and the session, AND this entry, with the migraine still throbbing ceaselessly within.

Not as bad as last night’s but still annoying.

30 hours of migraine is cruel.

The thumping and pounding in my head hasn’t ceased since midnight.

I could feel a migraine setting in shortly after blogging, and had forced down some water(may I repeat how I hate drinking water) before I left the house.

I took a train down to Dhoby Ghaut, leafing through my current read, and the pending pain dissipated.

Walked down to Parklane to join the others who were already there since 9.45pm, silently contemplating how I would up the level of my game(ahem, personal standards, that is. Since I am conceivably the booboo player of the group) as I strolled on the streets.

I guess my timing was pretty good since VampTreSS and Eugene reached minutes before I did, and Brian arrived shortly after.

Alas, half an hour later, the migraine crept in, and it wasn’t even the motion sickness that triggered it.

It was almost hard for me to follow up on the game, and I just kept downing juices hoping it would ease the nagging pain on the right hemisphere.

Didn’t help.

Got myself some camomile tea from 7-11 thereafter, hoping it would relax me enough to ease the sharp, piercing pain, and the dose of caffeine would work.

Didn’t help, either.

I decided to hide away from the enemies and take over the role of commander instead, with the pain pounding away, rousing the nausea in me.

***

I had one terrifying dream last night.

It was so… real.

I woke up feeling devastated, and forced myself to sleep again. By the time I woke up, it was already 8.30pm.

I would have slept on, if not that I had some emergency laundry to do. Hurhurhur. -curse curse swear swear-

Perhaps, that was why, I slept so much, cos reality was scary, and I wanted to sleep away the fear and bad feeling that greeted me when I woke up.

I dreamt that I lost him.

It was so real.

So scary.

I am so afraid, everytime, I see those greys.

***

Battlefield-ing went on till 4am in the morning.

Famished.

I was yearning for my 1st bite of the day, hoping some food would make me feel better.

I have no idea why migraine does silly things to my appetite, and that everything that goes down would be repulsed.

Taka, Aileen, Yong Guang, Brian, Boon and I went over to the nearby Kopitiam opposite Hotel Rendevous for a quick bite, whilst reviewing at our game tactics(well, more of reviewing theirs, laughing at mine) as if we were soldiers fresh out of war.

***

Whilst the guys were taking a smoking-break near the toilet area, another group of people from elsewhere were doing the same behind another door that leads to the stairs.

Suddenly a familiar figure strutted out to head for the washroom, and I recognised him as the gentleman who had been absolutely brilliant to me, yet I stood him up once.

Yeap, it was Wei Kang, Sam’s classmate when they both did university in King’s College.

VampTreSS then found him familiar, and said that she had known him from somewhere way before.

As he emerged from the washroom, he expressed how he found her familiar, and I mused how she had just said the exact same thing few moments ago.

Eventually, they both recalled that they knew each other from IRC eons ago(come on, secondary school was more than 10 years ago for them!) in #ACS channel, or some sort, and had met up before at Holland Village.

Gee.

What a small world.

And then I pointed to VampTreSS and giggled, ‘Yeap, she is one of the 3 bitches I told you about!’.

VampTreSS then said to him, ‘Remember JaneDoe? She is the other bitch.’

I gasped in amusement how he knows Jane Doe as well, and marvelled how small indeed, the world is.

He then recognised Brian since we bumped into Brian when we were supposed to go for movie at Lido late November.

‘Oh ya, it was you! You look different. I thought that time I remember you to be taller, though you were sitting down.’

That is perhaps why you would ever think he is taller, Wei Kang. Muahahaha.

Oh, I forgot to mention, how Wei Kang is actually Airhole‘s ex-colleague…. and the first time I met VampTreSS and Jane Doe, Airhole was with them too!

Interesting.

***

After supper, it was almost 5.30am.

Taka’s very quiet friend, Yong Guang, was heading towards west side, and someone suggested that we could actually share a cab.

I mentioned that I live around in the Jurong area, and that it would be on the way.

When I was on the cab, Yong Guang seemed kinda puzzled, and asked, ‘Erm, you stay in Jurong East huh?‘

Yeap, I do.

What’s your name huh?

Despite playing 2 rounds of Battlefield together before, he would only recognise me from my online moniker.

One of which, on the day when we had played till 6am, my nick was the atrociously irritating ‘IknowuknowIamCute’. and today, ‘Scarlett’.

Ting, I chirped.

Oh, did you IRC?

I looked on to him suspiciously, and wondered why.

Uhm… hm.. yeah.. which channel are you talking about? Why?

#Biker?

Uh oh. Uh oh. Uh oh. No good. No good.

Yeap I used to hang around there last time, I answered sheepishly.

You know Philip?

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO. You see, back then, the equation was, Ting=Philip, Philip=Ting, especially in the biking circle.

Yeap. Back then.

*Gasp* Yup, You are….?

He muttered his nickname which I didn’t find quite familiar.

He spelt out for me, ‘Adwin, but I think you know me as Ad_na..‘

I recognised the nick immediately.

You see, he used to be away quite a bit, and when he was away, his nickname would be Ad_NA. It became a habit that I addressed him affectionately as Adna..

What?!?!! God! You are Adna?! Hello?! Of course I know who is Adna! You didn’t tell me earlier?! How you know it was me?! *#^&%!#!#

I also just figured out… cos your nick was Scarlett, and they were calling you Ting, and I remember you stay in Jurong.

!!!!! -In too much shock to react- You are adna? OMG. You are in my friendster somemore lor, and I didn’t know it was you?

A little background information here.. Adna used to be online quite often, and we would usually chat till late into the night(or early morning), bitching and such.

In fact, he was one of the very few people I chatted to on a regular basis.

But he was deadly mysterious about his identity and I had never seen him, even though we had chatted between 2001-2004.

And I remember one of the last conversation we had back then, he asked me if I had found a job, and he told me how he had finally found one.

So, when it wasn’t as if he was one of those distant chatters, and thus, to be meeting in such a bizarre circumstance was even a much major shock than anything else.

Interesting, huh?

So, tonight is some sort of IRC reunion night, or something?

Heh.

How odd.

Gee, interesting how the past always find a way to haunt us despite as we move on swift and far in life?

Cool.

***

Had a nice shower, and the migraine is stubbornly persistent.

I am suspecting that I am morphing into a cow.

I regurgitated my food!

It surged up and I swallowed it back down, and it tasted awful.

I think between that and mopping the floor with a bad migraine, I would rather do the former.

Not when I had to struggle with the laundry and fit on the sheets after showering with my head hurting like a bitch.

Bleah.

It wasn’t the worst migraine I had, but it was certainly the most puke-inducing one I ever had.

***

How nice it is to have a shoulder to lean on, however brief, when a migraine sets in.

When you close your eyes, letting the energy drain out from you, as you just relax for that brief moment when the weight of your head is taken away.

And the pair of arms that encompass you, cuddling you close for comfort.

As you hear the close proximity of the low, bassy whisper of ‘Are you alright‘, you feel soothed, and you wouldn’t feel like replying though internally you would be saying something like ‘Of course I am alright cos I won’t die from this, but still, I am not alright cos it is making me freaking sick‘.

You whimper how miserable the mother of all migraines is killing you, and you feel one hand stroking from the top of your back down your spine, soothing and patting at the same time, with the other still drawing you close.

Pacifying you like a baby, cos that’s the only thing that could possibly make you feel better.

And you clung on tightly, like hugging a pillow, until you have to reluctantly peel yourself away before you fall asleep there and then.

Then, he would extend his hand to reach for mine, as we stroll down the corridor tightly in his grasp, to somewhere, only we know.

Suddenly, it feels so much better. Just because, so.

I miss being a baby.

***

And I wonder why am I still blogging with the migraine killing me.

Madness.

I slept at 7am and woke up at 8.30pm.

Now, if I sleep at 12 pm and wake up at 8pm, and if I sleep at 7am and I still wake up at 8pm, then I should perhaps sleep at 12pm, no?

Gee.

Not that it matters. That is just…. unreasonable reasoning on my part.

Actually, the new development to the saga was probably no new news.

A new update to the love site (since they insist it wasn’t meant to be hate site, nor did they mention anybody’s name) for someone else who doesn’t like her stated that it was never meant to be a hatesite, because it was never meant to be publicised, so ah well.

But it was rather odd to see:

Too bad, someone was vain enough to search for his own nickname, and found this page.

Ai yoo, who doesn’t search for own nickname? I do, but I realised Ting is too common and I gave up.

So don’t tell any people that I tried ‘Joewei’ and ‘Scarlett Ting’ nonetheless.

And from what I know, someone has(or maybe, had) the habit of doing so, too.

I also don’t know why so many people commented on my last post, cos it was never meant to be *ahem* public, you see.

I only have like a few comments for each post, and I would expect only that much people reading me, you see.

Anyway, in the latest news, Tomorrow.sg’s credibility has been put to the test too.

So, the most known blogger(someone)’s credibility is heavily doubted, after how she attacked hate site owners(then again, it wasn’t meant to be a hate site), and it was smoothed out by her retort.

Cool.

But now, Tomorrow.sg is being hacked!

Or so we thought.

The article was published on tomorrow.sg, but it magically disappeared sometime after.

And, an editor had once emailed a friend:

… because once something is published, we do not take it offline. And neither do any of the other sites like Boing Boing, Sintercom, Metafiler etc. That’s our rule and policy. And it’s a tried and proven method for credibility and integrity.

You can’t make all of the people happy all of time, but you can make most of the people happy most of the time. You are not new to blogging – never put something terribly personal out in public unless you are prepared to face the consequences.

But but but!

The article was removed thereafter!

So the site must have been hacked, as suggested by FF!

So, does this incident of removing the said article a proven method for credibility and integrity?

Hehehe, *sniggers* you decide.

Very credible and so much integrity, indeed.

Oh, oh, I am not saying that they are not credible cos they removed the post, cos they couldn’t possibly have.

I am just saying if the site was hacked, thn what if those hackers get access to my password and emails and such?

So it’s just the credibility of the security I am worried about.

Really.

Honest.

Just believe me, will ya, you morons.

***

Apparently, editors in tomorrow.sg have different standards and protocols when it comes to their censoring rights.

I guess they don’t have much shared visions, and it confuses bimbos like me.

Somewhere, they said:

Censorship of relevant comments/trackbacks is not practised/endorsed by all editors.

Posted by Agagooga on 12 January, 2006 – 2:56am

Somewhere else, they said:

I don’t see why we should promote a site which propagates hate, and includes copyrighted photos of myself photoshopped with cum on my face.

Not only me… Of SXG, of XXXXX Sia… and some others.

Do you?

Fuck freedom of speech – such websites should never have seen the light of day.

Please put yourself in my shoes – if you were me, would you allow the trackback of this website? Speak reason.

Posted by XXXXXX on 11 January, 2006 – 6:28am

So I guess, the task of speaking reason should be thrown to Agagooga, since he was the one who claimed that.

Hmm, perhaps you guys could discuss it amongst yourselves and then come to a conclusion?

Make up your minds, will ya?

A magnificent lesson learnt on credibility and integrity.

Or maybe like Mr Brown‘s latest article in Today(excerpt):

… Recently, billionaire George Soros commented: “Singapore does not qualify as an open society”.

.

To which a Ministry of Information, Communications and the Arts spokesman said: “If we were not an open society, George Soros would hardly be able to make the comment at an open forum in Singapore, and be reported in the Singapore media.”

.

Ya lor, Mr Soros, we are quite an open society here in Singapore, really. Sure, we can say things quite freely. I can even say that a politician like Mr (bleep) of the (bleep) party looks like a giant (bleep) and smells like (bleep).

.

Besides, I recall most Singaporeans filled in the application forms to become an open society and we meet all the necessary criteria to be responsibly open. Don’t want no irresponsible openness here, you know?

.

I hear next month, we will be issued the “Singapore is Open OK” stickers to paste everywhere there is a wall.

.

After all, you must remember our unique circumstances and our fragile society and the fault lines. We cannot have any old kind of Openness that can jeopardise the community.

.

But do not worry too much, we are currently looking into including “How to be an Open Society” into the school curriculum.

.

Scholars who get good grades for Responsible Openness (additional marks to be given to those who do not get sued) will be considered for fast track careers in the new Ministry of Open Society, or MOS.

.

This is not to be confused with the new Ministry of Sound. That one is a disco, not a real ministry.

.

Singaporeans should not send their application forms to the Ministry of Sound to apply for permission to speak. Those forms should be sent to the relevant government ministry or nearest police post.

Er, so where is the nearest police post of Tomorrow.sg ah? Or the email addresses of the individual editors ministries?

Maybe write to different ministries better, some may have different protocols.

** I would like to put up a disclaimer, too. That my post is to be taken with a pinch of salt, a hint of sugar, and a dash of vinegar.

But, er, I haven’t decide what I want yet, so before I make up my mind, that have to wait.

I sniffed the goings-on in the blogocircus blogosphere, and bought some delicious pop-corn to go with it.

Buttered and sweet ones, thank you.

Hmm, wait a minute.

Is that a whiff of catfight I caught between the higher profile bloggers(yes, females, thank you)?

Off racism went, and here comes what I thought would happen in primary school beauty pageants(?).

Conflicts and politics amongst females, who wouldn’t hesitate to sharpen their claws to put up a tough fight to retaliate injustice.

Tsk tsk. Her World Magazine, look what you have done to the female bloggers.

Just that this time, I seriously have no idea where and when the injustice set in, since I didn’t quite catch up the first wave of the saga.

Not that it is important anyway.

But I am indeed, amused.

Blogocircus it has became.

Woohoo.

Jugglers, contortionists, trapeze, clown acts.

Where else can you find these besides on blogosphere?

And I am starting to feel scared. Very scared.

Oh dear! I am reaching the age that might be defined as old(Oh dear! Maybe I should be glad that I am not of a certain race, or else I might risk further discrimination from other bloggers. Oh dear I just recall I am not a Singaporean, and that’s bad enough), and that this post might be considered as a sour-grape one cos I am no longer young and will never be as attractive as others.

Or that maybe as I walk down a street, no longer in my early 20s, everyone would be speculating if my uhm… well, you-know-where is wrinkly enough to mop the floor or not.

*Shudders at thought*

And to think that I naively expected that everyone would take me as a sex goddess since it’s rumoured that the big 3-0 is the sexual peak of a female.

Gobbled up those 18 years-old 9-times-a-nightyoung punks out there without spitting their bones out, without losing a single breath.

Yummy yum.

Anyway, I thought everything is so cute right now.

So amusing.

Makes me laugh in the midst of my terrible PMS.

So terrible that I have been on AWAY and BUSY mode cos I simply don’t feel like talking to anyone, and that I want to irritate the hell of everyone just to drive everyone away.

So mean.

Oh no.

Will they start saying that I am having menopause?

Die.

I better start packing my bag and get out of the country and flee for my life, before my deformities(oh yes, every part of me is deformed, and being old and unattractive is enough fodder for flame-match) are picked.

Then again, anything below the belt(pun? Not necessarily intended, heh) could be used in a blogosphere flame-match.

Whee!

That’s why so hilarious to read.

And now, it has even gone up a step higher.

I have no idea, but apparently, an exposé is fresh out of the oven.

So, someone has someone who doesn’t like her. So, someone impersonated someone who doesn’t like her to get back at the someone who doesn’t like her by using someone who doesn’t like her’s name to attack someone else who doesn’t like her.

So, someone denied it was her who started the hate-site for someone else who doesn’t like her.

But, er, someone should be the only one who knew the things only she would know.

So confusing for an aging bimbo like me.

Sigh.

I was sceptical at first too, you see.

Are they all staging a show to get all of us hooked so that we would be taken in as they manipulated our excitement and adrenaline rush?

We would never know, right? One day we might realise that this is just the publicity for the upcoming movie ‘My Mummy very Xialan in the Snow’ or something.

I think they do it quite a lot in Hollywood, Hong Kong, Taiwan… uhm.. so who knows?

And who knows, someone and someone who doesn’t like her, might be the same person(gasp gasp gasp!)!

How’s that for the ultimate drama in the blogosphere?

Anyway.

It’s quirky humour.

Oh, guess what, I read my bloglines after reading someone who doesn’t like her’s entry, cos I question the authenticity.

To my absolute abhorrence, guess what I saw?

Hmm.. indeed, she had posted her entries with her nemesis’ moniker.

Too careless? Or deliberate?

Hmm.

Actually, when you subscribe to a new blogline, they would have 5 or 10 new entries of the said blog, so it should still be there.

And I thought it was funny.

The question to ‘what jobs people who set up hate sites do‘ tickled me.

I think the answer is in itself.

Professional blogger, maybe?

Woops.

Blogocircus is in town. Purchase your tickets early and reserve a good seat.

Pass me more popcorn, will ya?