Friday, March 31
\\**//
-start time: 4.11am-
Q: what's the last text message on your cell phonesay?
A: call u in about half an hour.
Q: whose bed did you sleep in last night?
A: my own.
Q: what color shirt are you wearing?
A: black
Q: most recent movie that you watched?
A: on DVD, 2046.
Q: name one thing that you do everyday?
A: eat.
Q: what's the color of your bedroom walls?
A: all white, only one wall is lavender blue.
Q: how much cash do you have on you right now?
A: 100 plus...
Q: what is your favorite part of the chicken?
A: thighs and drumstick
Q: what's your favorite sport?
A: i don't do sports... is air hockey counted?
Q: i can't wait till...?
A: Junior becomes a father.
Q: when was the last time you saw your mom?
A: when she was watching Brokeback Mountain around... 12midnight?
Q: what did you have for dinner last night?
A: i didn't have dinner last night. is alcohol (one vodka cranberry, one vodka sprite and a white russian) counted?
Q: is Tom on your Friends List?
A: Tom and Jerry's Tom?
Q: look to your left. What's there?
A: Glenmorangie Malt Scotch Whisky and Macallan Single Malt 12 years whisky bottles, a gold fairy carrying my birth stone and a wooden elephant carrying a tea light candle.
Q: whats the last piece of clothing you borrowedfrom someone?
A: er...i dont remember borrowing clothing. is a hairband from my sister counted? more like people borrowing clothes from me. I think I have a tube top at Val's, shorts and another top with Mandy and slippers and a spag top with Nate. And a blazer with my sister.
Q: what website(s) do you visit the most during theday?
A: People's blogs.
Q: do you have an air freshener in your car?
A: i dont have a car yet.
Q: do you have plants in your room?
A: I have dead flowers in my room... dried roses and whatnot.
Q: does anything hurt on your body right now?
A: yes! My bruised knee from the bike accident giving me trouble standing up and down. My sprained neck.
Q: what city was your last taxicab ride in?
A: say, Singapore??
Q: do you own a picture phone?
A: a virus-ed one, but no doubt one.
Q: what's your favorite Starbucks drink?
A: caramel frappucino.
Q: recent time you were really upset?
A: 2 hours ago.
Q: would you have a problem if your friend went after your ex boyfriend/girlfriend?
A: i would find it weird...but go ahead.
_______Last________
1. Person you saw: My mum asleep on the sofa with Brokeback Mountain playing on TV.
2. Talk on the phone with: Mr M
3. Hugged: Mr M
4. IM: Agnes and Sylvest.
_______Today________
1. What are you doing now: doing this thing...before I sleep.
2. What are you doing tonight: i WAS watching DVDs.
3. What are you wearing? Mr M's ex-army singlet and khaki shorts
4. What did you eat for lunch? I ate spaghetti and sardines.
________Tomorrow___________
1. Is: Friday, a horribly long day.
2. Got any plans: Spend the day watching DVDs and the night working.
3. Goal: To not cock up at work
4. Dislikes about tomorrow: Possibility of a slamming crowd at work, runaway bills and stupid customers.
5. Do you have to work: Yes. YES. -dies-
-completed at 4:15am-
the angels they burn inside for us|3:58:00 AM|
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Wednesday, March 22
\\**//
On the night that he brought his mistress home to me, I was not in the least bit surprised.
I went downstairs, and saw her pristine self, standing there like it was nobody's business. So, I decided to make ourselves at home, and climbed upon her...
my feet can't really touch the floor, unless I tip toe.
We went on a bike ride that night, and since Mr M's bike supplier only gave him one helmet (and told him to collect the other one another day), I borrowed my neighbour/colleague/friend Wei Lun's helmet and we went on a bike ride. Boy was the acceleration fast. And because Mr M was not used to riding it, I kept getting jerked up and down.
"Scrambler is a bang bang bike," Adrian's voice wafted into my mind...
Indeed. I kept getting banged against Mr M's butt.
The next day, I was there when he crossed his first ERP gantry. I was there when he got his first summon (because he parked his bike at my house and forgot to put coupons). I was there when his engine stalled. I was there when he forgot to take out his cashcard.
And I took Weilun's helmet back with me, onto a bus, because Mr M didn't want to send me home from Novena. Instead, he rode us to Clarke Quay where he had to work later and walked me to City Hall to take a bus. And it was my first time taking a helmet upon a bus and getting weird stares from passengers.
But being the so freakingly understanding yet unreasonable girlfriend that I am, I didn't hold it against him.
(well, I did minus a hell lot of points for that date.)
Oh yes, something interesting happened today. While I was walking Junior, well, he was a lil eccentric on his walk today. He dashed out of the lift and immediately chased away our neighbourhood cat, which is white and black and meows like nobody's business.
Apart from that, he did this darn cute thing that I swear, I'll never forget. After marking his territory, he immediately ran towards Cracker the Schnauzer, and head butted him!
I have never seen Junior head butt.
And he looked so happy to have head butted a bigger-than-him dog, that he wagged his tail and ran away. And Cracker just growled in a non-threatening way and didn't even flinch. Well, for sure, since he doesn't even flinch when we smack him, I'm sure a little head butt from little Junior didn't hurt one bit.
My cutesy little Junior drives me nuts.
the angels they burn inside for us|10:06:00 PM|
\\**//
Very recently, there were a bunch of NIE (National Institute of Education) PE (physical education) teachers whom I served, and they were very friendly and funny.
They asked me to rate myself on a scale of 1 to 10.
This is a question which I have asked Mr M to do, and he rated himself 8; and when I asked why, he said because he has a height, a tan and quite a built body. Hmm... not bad ego for a shy and quiet person, I thought at that time, which was quite a while ago. And he asked me the same question back, and I said 6.
Ever since the first time, I've been asking him the same question periodically, and he always rates himself an 8.
Anyway, back to the NIE PE teachers. The whole group of them hung around until after I finished work, which was at 2am. And they asked me to join them at their table, which I did after some hesitation. So, they asked me to rate myself, and I said, "6,"
And then I became an unwilling contestant of Singapore's version of Are You Hot?, because they sat me down, and one of them told the whole group to rate me. The conversation went like this:
PE Teacher 1: Why don't all of us rate you, starting from face, body and appeal.
PE Teacher 2: Let's not do appeal, it's not too nice.
PE Teacher 1: Okay, then face and body then, on a scale of 1 to 10.
So the rating went around the table...
PE Teacher 1: Now, all of us look at her...
Me: NO don't look at me, please. I feel weird with like 8 pairs of eyes staring at me.
PE Teacher 1: Don't be shy, don't use your hands to cover your face, but I'd give you an extra 1 point for that hand there...
PE Teacher 3 (the first person to start): 8 for face, 8 for body.
PE Teacher 4 (the second...): 8, 9.
PE Teacher 5: 8, 9
PE Teacher 1 (the fourth in turn): 9, 9 as well. Now, if not for the nostril hair poking out of your left nostril...(group erupts into laughter, including me) I would have given you a perfect 10. So remember to trim your nose hair after this.
PE Teacher 5: 8,8.
PE Teacher 1: Of course you know I'm joking right.
PE Teacher 6: Due to certain circumstances... -looks to girlfriend sitting next to him-
PE Teacher 1: I'm sure she's fine with it.
Girlfriend of PE Teacher 6: I'm fine, go ahead.
PE Teacher 6: I'd give her 6,6
PE Teacher 1: Oh, 6,6 you know, the perfect eyesight score!
-group erupts into laughter-
It's the girlfriend's turn, and she says, "You don't expect me to do this, I'm not lesbian!!"
The Last PE Teacher: 6.5.
PE Teacher 1: Did you know, he gave the hottest girl in our class 7.5 only? That's how high his standards are.
After awhile, I was feeling uncomfortable, so I said I had to go get a drink.
I had to admit, that was pretty ego boosting, but I would never ever rate myself anything above 6 for anything about myself. Okay, maybe a 6.5, but that's about all. People might often think that I'm this confident sassy girl, but only a minority would tell me that I have low self-esteem.
Which, I do.
I don't believe that I can really be an 8 or 9, because that is what only guys who want to get to know girls say.
I don't believe that I can be intelligent or lucky enough to get to a university (unless its overseas).
the angels they burn inside for us|12:11:00 AM|
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Monday, March 20
\\**//
I AM GUILTY. I AM GOING TO MAKE A CONFESSION.
I have not been meeting up with my pals for awhile now. I mean, this is not completely my fault, since most of them are busy working and schedules clash like crazy. On a day that I am rotting at home, the sky grey and dark outside, with nothing to do, I realise that I miss them. Some more than the others, I recall their good and bad points and why I am friends with them in the first place.
In my life, there are many people. They are met at different phases in my life. Some whom I've met simply disappear. There are the Friends, the Family, the Acquaintances, the Companion, the Colleagues and the People Who I Simply Don't Care About.
These groups of people are like Venn Diagrams. Some people fall into both categories like the Friends and the Colleagues. Some are tottering between the Friends and the Acquaintances. Some fall into both the Acquaintances and the People Who I Simply Don't Care About. While others, they are both the Companion and the Family (in the small portion of overlapping Venn Diagrams only hold two names: Junior Major and Mr M).
Friends, to me, are people whom I don't meet or talk to everyday; but my friends would have gone through at least one important phase in my life together with me. So even if they are not involved in my now-life and my now-problems, it is totally fine and dandy. Because people move on, people meet new people and new friendships and bonds are formed. But it does not mean, in any way, that they have been forgotten. Or that they do not matter anymore.
Now, I am missing my Friends. Reason being I see my colleagues for at least 20 hours every week, my family at least once every two days, my companions everyday...
I miss a great hell of people.
They are, in no particular order, a collection of great people with a different personality per se, that I would never dream of gathering them all together (except maybe at my wedding).
Yiting, best known for her mummy-ing skills. I didn't even get to see her at the chalet.
Val, the kind one who is steadily attached now, pity for the guys.
Kelly, the practical one who tends to have a high freak out meter at times.
Agnes, the uber tall one who always makes an effort.
Eve, the even more practical one with a frank streak and a kind heart.
Huiyun, who I just met quite recently (as compared to the rest), best known to me for her mummy-ing skills as well.
Syazwan, my personal seishii, funny guy and the one I can turn to for some guy advice.
Mandy, the patient and level-headed one, whose IC is still with me.
Kk, the simple one, and he never forgets a birthday.
Siew Ping, the mature and perceptive one, the girl who I remember going to for guy advice in those days.
Alex, the responsible and smart one, who is funny in his own way.
Rachel (wong), the funny and often softer-spoken one amongst us.
Khairiyah, the creative and meticulous one, who always pays attention to detail, is in England now.
Letitia, the strong-headed one who has a soft spot for animals.
Lihui, the super patient one with something good to say about everyone.
Trudy, another soft-spoken one with girlish charm, has just signed into MSN from Australia now.
Dion, who I have not caught up with in years, still has his boyish persona.
Yvonne, the sardonic one, who always organises Garlic outings.
Qing Hui, now known to me as the army boy, the one who provides endless entertainment for the rest of us with his absolute tolerance.
Remuz, my friend of almost 6 years, with whom I have only hung out with twice, and with whom I have the most electronic online friendship ever.
Charlotte, who lives with Trudy in Australia, the practical da jie one.
Teresa, whom I saw in Dbl O's toilet for that brief catch up, the one who has the business mind.
Veralynn, the sweet, giggly one, who was absent for soooo longggg.
Kevin, who is now pursuing his studies I think, and remembered by me for his ability to talk to me for hours over dinner.
Understandably, not everybody who I miss will miss me back-- but it is okay. As life grows on, some people just fade away...until maybe one day, when we meet on the streets, will the memories come flooding back like a torrent of waves.
the angels they burn inside for us|5:01:00 PM|
\\**//
Once upon a time, a very long time ago, I treated this blog as a place to pour out all my thoughts, feelings, day-to-day events-- almost like a personal diary. But as the hype of blogs grew, the personal content that I put up here is no longer as personal as my earliest archived.
I no longer write about stuff that affect me deeply; like how dirty (fat is optional) old men rub up against the shoulders in a crowded bus, or how frightened I am to return home at 4am after work (with or without Mr M), afraid that the stalker will still be there (he once followed me and Mr M to my doorstep, a few weeks after chasing after me and Khai), or how I felt when I missed the power98 event, how I feel when I leave Junior at home alone everyday when I go out, how filled with contempt I am for people who don't respect others and only know how to boss their way around, or that I'll never be able to really drive because I can't tell one road from the other, or that people are just two-faced creatures who backstab others, or that many more animals are being killed for Dolce and Prada, or that I'll never be able to get a high paying job enough to be able to live in a penthouse...
Some of these things are kept hidden within me, because something happened not-so-recently, something that led me to believe that there are still childish people out there who take everything abit too personally. That I believe that my words do offend people who have low self-esteem.
Therefore, I often believe that my true self is not depicted in a way that was so truthfully revealed just maybe, a year ago. I often wish that some stuff can be told, as openly as in a secret journal, but of course this will not be.
Because as long as there are other people living on this planet, nothing must be totally the truth. People manipulate, they deceive and they try to control. This is as much trust I have for the beings living around me on the same land I stand.
Often, when I have conversations with friends or acquaintances, I mentioned something, and they'll go, "I know," and I'll go, "How did you know?" and before I can think Shit It's My Blog, they say, "I read your blog," and I'll be filled with a mixture of emotions- surprise, worry, delight and then I'll think, "How much do they know...?"
Which leads me to wonder ... as much as I have a warped theory of life itself, which, according to many friends' comments, injects itself as humour in my entries itself, I do not usually mean to be humorous or entertaining or interesting. Mostly, I just feel like its reporting to myself. Myself, talking to me. A reflection of things I do, experiences I experience and hopefully, never ever get deleted because I am afraid I will forget.
And I think I am having PMS.
the angels they burn inside for us|12:46:00 AM|
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Thursday, March 16
\\**//
The exam results are out.
I didn't wait for the SMS to come- instead I went rather impatiently to the e services and checked... and THERE it was! All of it.
I was not disappointed, nor extremely happy. But sadly, there was a beautiful D+ tainting my records of As, Bs and C+s.
I have nothing much to comment, except that since it is my last ever result slip, I shall print it all out (i lost those I printed in Sem 1 and 2).
the angels they burn inside for us|1:16:00 PM|
\\**//
Four more hours. FOUR!!!!!!!!!!!
Gruelling, gruelling days.
I will be sure to awake in my bed, cold sweat pouring through my pores, as my hand phone sounds with the ever-so ironic tones of some classical piece, ever-so ironic to my feelings. Feelings of dread...
As I recall sitting for the papers, I don't think I remember feeling ever so proud of studying the night before, certain to get an A, or even a B. The papers were darn difficult.
Gruelling, gruelling, days...........................................
the angels they burn inside for us|2:15:00 AM|
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Wednesday, March 15
\\**//
Oh God. The exams results are coming out less than 24 hours.
Less than 12 hours.
Less than 10 hours!!!!!!!!!!
At (precisely) 6am the next morning, I shall receive an SMS from the school. My results, my fate, my entire nervous system- based one SMS. ONE SMS!!!!!
Determining whether I will have to dig out all my old notes, old emails, old tutorials from yestersem. To determine if I have to sit for at least another 2 hours of gruelling retest. To determine my GPA. ONE SMS.
How ironic- an electronic function that I use everyday for leisure. Sent as simply with a click of a button.
GGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-freaking out in progress-
the angels they burn inside for us|7:24:00 PM|
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Monday, March 13
\\**//
Mr M has got a mistress.
And he has spent a bomb on her. While I can only stare, wide-eyed.
In the dusty, dark and dingy room he went, cigarettes hanging out from the edges of middle-aged men's mouths.
Mr M's mistress's name is Michaela Gelo.
When Mr M fell in love with her, it was on impulse. He made a rash decision. And the best (or worse) part of it all? I was there.
She is a Scrambler.
She looks like a proud horse, dressed in white and purple, as Mr M rides her up and down and to and fro.
And I was there when he fell in love with her- before she was even assembled. I was excited for him, a rare case for girlfriends to feel.
As he paid the 5k, I saw my fancy dinners, extravagant presents, midnight movies -not that I have watched a theatre movie since last year... but shit, dont tell me the supply of DVDs will be affected too?!-, and romantic surprises fly out of the window.
But it is okay. When I saw another Scrambler sitting by the side of the road, so high and mighty just waiting for a Prince Charming to come ride it, I felt happy for Mr M that he could finally realise his dream of riding a Scrambler after one year of acquiring his license.
Some of my friends who ride bikes tell me he has been fleeced, but since Mr M has already paid for the bike and it comes with after care warranty and helmets and whatever else I can ask the boss to give (with the help of perhaps my shortest skirt).
My biker friends also said, over supper, that "Scrambler is a bang-bang bike! Only got one seat, so if your boyfriend got other girl pillion ah, will keep banging against him leh,"
"If you don't want him to pillion other girls then cut up the seat into two and carry the seat everywhere you go lor,"
"Remove the foot pedal so that nobody can go up on the bike. Eh, but later the girl ah, hug your boyfriend and climb up then you know ah,"
"Ah bo you can just take the helmet everywhere you go lor,"
To which I replied, "WHAT??! Then you want me to carry the helmet on the bus when he's not with me??"
I shall psycho myself not to be bothered with him 'pillion-ing' his new classmates in april, when he goes to Republic's Sports and Exercise Course. All that sporty girls!
On a totally new topic, just the other night, which was actually last night, my friends and I brought Mr M to Happy, this gay bar.
JV, Danny, Weiwei, Pam, Junie, Rosalin, Kenny (a director from Moving Visuals who we just met the night before) were hanging out at the Esplanade while watching Ublues perform and 'supper-ing' together after that, followed by gay-bar partying.
Everyone was pretty stoned, but everyone also commented how much Mr M was enjoying himself. He absolutely refused to participate in my experiment, which was pretty simple! It includes:
Standing alone at the bar/dance area for a few minutes where I can observe him through a glass where I will be sitting on the other side.
Objective: To see if Mr M is attractive to homosexuals.
I badly wanted to see 1) the above, 2) if the gay who approached him was cute.
Of course, Mr M refused.
God, there were just so many cute guys there that I just had to whisper to Mr M, "You don't have to worry about me, I'll be totally safe here,"
To which, JV just had to go, "But don't feel too safe, some of them are bisexuals,"
And speaking of gays, my dad bought Brokeback Mountain on DVD. God. I thought I would be over the cowboys and sheep by now.
the angels they burn inside for us|9:12:00 PM|
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Tuesday, March 7
\\**//
I woke up in the afternoon today, around one plus. I grabbed the Straits Times Life! section and pored through it as I waited for my frozen pizza to heat in the toaster. There were reports on the recent Oscars. I learnt that Crash beat Brokeback Mountain to winning the Best Picture, how Lee Ang is a source of pride for Taiwanese and how he's a glory for Chinese.
Then I read Lee Ang's brother's quote on Crash winning Brokeback.
Lee Kang said American bias may be at play here. The Oscars are voted by the 6000 members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. He also said, "No matter where the vote is held, when the locals are voting, they will have this, whether you call it nationalism or something else. There's no way around it. We couldn't cross the final gate. The Americans have to keep the Best Picture award at home,"
Having watched Brokeback Mountain at the recent chalet with many other expectant classmates, I found it nothing spectacular. Of course, I had not read the book before I watched, and with no subtitles, maybe that was why I found it rather boring and slow-moving. And I am not a classics sort of person. Besides, the hype was all about the homosexuality (which the scene was rather dark and dreary). The only touching part I found about the whole love story was the last part when Jake Gyllenhaal had died because he was killed by anti-gay government (or something like that) and his gay partner Heath Ledger went to his house and found his 'lost' shirt hung together with Jake's on the same hangar.
Not knowing whether to believe Lee Kang on American biasness, I decided to go watch Crash for myself.
When my pizza was toasted, I put in the Crash DVD and watched it.
(2 hours later I am here blogging about it)
OF COURSE it is better than Brokeback! To be fair, I watched it without subtitles.
Okay maybe I shouldn't compare. Crash is so much more emotional, and the racism projected in the film was amazing. Asians, African-Americans, Americans, Latinos, Hispanics, Thai immigrants... all entwined in one story, where their fates meet and the story unravels.
And the reason why people die in this show is because of racism.
It is hard to explain, just like Saw. Not the twistedness of Saw, but the way everything links with each other. How every element is crucial to each character.
And don't get me started on the love element. It is so strong; a father's love for his 5-year-old daughter and how the 5-year-old protects him in return when he is held at gun point (for some racism matter). The love between a racist American lady (played by Sandra Bullock) and her housekeeper (of a different race). The love of a mother for her son (who was killed by a police officer in self-defence) is so strong that she blames the elder son for the death of her younger son. The love between a husband and wife (who got molested by a police officer- but the same officer saved her life in the end) who are plagued by racism all the time. The love from another daughter and her father, knowing how rash her father can get, fills his gun with blanks. And that is how the little 5-year-old was saved from being shot.
It is amazing, truly, how this film was shot. Racism, being a tender issue, was handled so sensitively without compromising the seriousness of it all. Characterisation was superb. Emotional as it is, Crash, deserves all of ten dollars of each movie-goer's cash.
Okay maybe it's just me, but Crash deserves the Oscar as well. And the director, Paul Haggis, should have won Best Director.
So when I think back on Lee Kang's comment (despite in Lee Ang's defence), I find that it is not fair to say that American biasness was in play. Crash is a good film on its own and needs no biasness to prove it.
the angels they burn inside for us|3:50:00 PM|
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Sunday, March 5
\\**//
In Chinese tales, of what I know of them (my chinese is limited despite taking a so called Higher Chinese syllabus for 6 years), there is often the much talked about Journey To The West. Of what I know, Journey To The West involves a monk (named Tripitaka), a monkey (named Sun Wu Kong) and a pig (named Zhu Ba Jie).
I have my own edition of Journey To The West. Perhaps one day, when there are more free people from China around, the tale can be told to all far and near.
The characters involved in my tale are a monk (named Daddy A. Ang), a monkey (named Maxine M. Ang) and a pig (named Mr M).
Maxine Ang awoke early, earlier than usual and prepared to set off on her long awaited journey. In these modern days, monkeys have evolved into human, and in Maxine Ang's case, a human of the fairer (though not so) sex. So, she carefully applied her make up in nude shades and took her parcels which she would need to present at her Final Destination.
As Maxine M. Ang was not accustomed to awakening early, she decided that a good cup of coffee would do her good. So, she met the monk, Daddy A. Ang at the coffee shop (a modern equivalent of a roadside stall made of sticks) and had coffee with him.
They discussed the trip in detail. They would not be setting off on foot; instead, wheels would be a better modern evolution. And as the leader of the trio, of course the Monk would be driving. Since it is not known whether monkeys could drive, and besides Maxine M. Ang had not acquired her driver's license.
This Journey To The West was for an important purpose: To visit the unwell pig (played by Mr M), who was suffering from a human disease known as chicken pox.
*Editor's note: it is not uncommon in this modern age for a pig to contract diseases from other animals. In some cases, bird flu. Damn the birds and chickens.
Monk: Where is the exact place?
Monkey: The West.
Monk: I know, where?? Which village?
Monkey: Opposite the Tang Dynasty.
Monk: Oh... I think I know where.
And so, after their coffee, they set off, the monkey Maxine M. Ang carrying her parcels (it included a PS II, 3 Sony controllers of which 2 were broken, a collection of DVDs including her favourite Desperate Housewives series and a Get-Well-Soon Recovery Kit) for the pig Mr M.
Here is a proud showcase of the Get-Well-Soon Recovery Kit (handmade):
this is the back. it was meant to be couried on 28th Feb, but the West was too far for a poor female to journey on her own in the hot sun-- better to wait for a four wheel drive on Sunday, 5th March.
this is the front.
(if enlarged)
THE GET-WELL-SOON RECOVERY KIT
*for recovery of chicken pox, the-missing-gf symptoms, fever, itchiness, muscle & body aches, sore throat, grouchiness, miserable-ness, irritance, sadness etc.
THIS KIT PROVIDES RELIEF TO RECEIVER; CONTAINS MANY SUBSTANCES I.E LOVE, HAPPINESS, SOOTHING RELIEF...ETC. SIDE EFFECTS MAY VARY WITH EACH INDIVIDUAL. TO BE CONSUMED AS PRESCRIBED BY KIND GIVER OF THIS KIT.
In the kit includes:
- a tube of strawberry chocolates
- a packet of Nerds
- a handmade poster
"get well soon babe. Love, Mikaeleia"
"oooops, so sorry I spoilt pretty yuna's poster though..." and the M (for Maxim mag) is so apt as a logo for my face.
As the monk and the monkey travelled on their super long drive to the West, they passed many signs.
After 10 minutes....
Monkey: Har?! Only at Thomson???
After travelling on the highway for another 10 minutes...
Monkey: Why I keep seeing the Jurong West sign pointing straight for like, 5 or 6 times already but still havent reach????
Monk (reverently): It is very far.
Monkey (after another 10 minutes): Want a mint?
And so, the duo continued, with the greenhouse effect taking place through the windows.
Monkey: Ugh so hot.
Finally, the four wheel drive made a left turn down the correct street, passing the Tang Dynasty.
Monk: Now where is the street?
Monkey: Don't know. This is an ulu place.
The duo passed many streets...
Monk: not this...not this... not this... not this... i don't know where!
Finally, the monk Daddy A. Ang found the block.
Monk (warningly): Don't go too near him ah. It's contagious.
The monk, of course, did not alight at the monkey's Final Destination. Instead, he went further west to do some repotting of plants.
When the monkey saw the pig, she was unfazed. As the pig had low self-esteem due to the pox on his face, he was feeling embarrassed, but the monkey gave the pig his presents and parcels and all went fine.
After a few hours, the monk drove back to fetch the monkey, and thus, the Journey To The West was completed.
the angels they burn inside for us|10:56:00 PM|
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Friday, March 3
\\**//
I had this really really reallllyyy weird dream this afternoon (i know its afternoon cuz I awoke at 1215noon, checked the time and decided that I deserved another hour of snooze and that's when I had the dream).
I was in an MRT station, walking to the platform. I was pushing a wheelchair, and in it was Mr M sitting there. He was not crippled or handicapped, he could walk perfectly well but he was in a wheelchair for no reason at all. I was walking in the Dhoby Ghaut MRT station from the North South train platform to the North East platform.
Suddenly, halfway of my walk the wheelchair I was pushing turned into a stroller and I was pushing a baby in it. Like no one's business. This baby belonged to Mr M. In my dream, the baby was made by Mr M and his sister!!!
And this might be confusing, but I knew I was dreaming about pushing the baby- but somehow in my dream I knew the baby really did belong to Mr M and his sister, meaning I was somehow convinced that Mr M did tell me about the baby belonging to him and his sister before I had the dream.
And suddenly, I was carrying the baby in my arms and I could SO see her face. And its a her. The baby looked nothing like me, of course, but she had features of Mr M and his sister (duh, it's supposed to be their baby) which is weird because Mr M and his sister are siblings so their features are more or less alike.
I carried the baby onto the platform where I waited for the train. Suddenly, my whole family appeared on the seats that people can sit on while waiting for trains.
My dad asked, "How come you have a baby?" in the most casual tone ever, as though asking me if I'd eaten lunch.
And I said equally casually, "Oh, it's Mr M and his sister's baby,"
And my dad just acted as though it was the most normal thing in the world to be incestuous and went back waiting for the train.
And somehow in my dream, I knew that the baby stayed with Mr M's aunt and his parents still don't know about the baby.
I boarded the train, which is supposed to drop me at City Hall (which makes no sense because I was at the North EAST line) but after travelling for awhile, I realised that there have been a few more stops added to the North East Line, such as - after Dhoby Ghaut- is Eternity and after Eternity is Wormtail.
Thinking back into my dream, I really, truly wonder where I get those names from. I mean, Eternity and Wormtail as train stops????
So anyway, I got into a frenzy after realising City Hall is not on my list where I can alight. But the baby remained calm and smiley.
And I awoke in perspiration- not cold sweat- but because the sun was shining brightly on me and it was getting too hot to continue sleeping.
I checked the time, and it was exactly 1315. Exactly the one hour snooze that I had planned for when I awoke at 1215.
Weird or what? I told Mr M the dream, and he went, "Crazy! I really wonder what you're thinking about these days,"
the angels they burn inside for us|1:31:00 AM|
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