-~`what do i want..`~-

2010-01-08T03:14:00.002+08:00

I'm thinking that nobody reads this blog anymore - and why should they when I rarely update?Which is good because I'm feeling funny right now and don't really want anyone's comments but yet don't know where to put my thoughts --

I think I am falling into depression right now, or maybe it is just the creep of the night - but honestly I have not been feeling well for the past few months. Perhaps it took a toll on my physical health as well. I am feeling it more than ever especially now.

Since school started 3 days ago, I started the spiral of downhill emotions because it is like starting all over again. Different classes, too much hassle. I am making the best of it by making new and closer friends. Bringing the acquaintanceship to a friendship, which isn't hard, but way too troublesome. At this age.

Also, the start of the downhill spiral of emotions happened a few months ago when I started having sudden memory flashes of my past. It would happen at any moment regardless of what I was doing. The flashes are not easy to bear because I realised how much I had "forgotten", how much I had buried deep in the crevices of my mind.

With that, I started experiencing insomnia. By my "past", I mean things that I possibly didn't want to do but ended up doing anyway. And whenever I have memory flashbacks, I feel that this "past" happened so long ago, that I thought that it never existed, but in reality it did, and it was only a matter of a few years before it came back to haunt me.

When I went to see my counsellor about a year and a half ago, she told me that this was a common defence mechanism which comes naturally to some people which helps them heal difficult emotional wounds. I thought that it was crap because I thought that I didn't have any emotional wounds at the time, or during the times, when I was living in my past, my then present.

Until now, after being jolted by the memories, I still don't see any sign of emotional wounds that led me to live my life then. I still think that I knew fully well what I was doing and was not blinded by some negative emotions that would lead me to this day.

So, I tried recalling other elements of my past - such as past relationships, because the past that is haunting me is mostly of people that I didn't really care about.

And I found out that I can't remember a single thing.

I try to refresh my memory with pictures but when I stare at these people, people whom I used to care about and spend tons of time with, nothing comes into my head. And I get stressed out because I then think, "How could I have spent almost XX years with this person and yet remember nothing about it??" How could I have lived with and devoted my time and energy in a relationship yet totally not have any memory, emotion or something, just something remotely linked to that person?

It really stresses me out because I am now wondering if my 'natural defence mechanism' has blocked out the elements of my life and the days as they go by, and only allow me to remember when it chooses to??

.
.
.

I admit that I have short-term memory.

But not to this extent...?

I can't remember anything at all. I can't even remember my 21st birthday when it was just last year. And I realise I didn't blog about it so I don't have anything left to remember because when I look at pictures, I completely don't link myself to being there at all.

I can't remember my poly life at all. I can't remember anything about my childhood to say the least. I can't EVEN remember what it felt like to start dating The Boyfriend.

It is almost like I had lived a completely different life with a complete set of emotions, a body, a mind that is different from the ones I have now. Like everything had been wiped out and the only emotions and memories I can remember are those that I have now. For only a short period of time before it is erased again.

I am trying to remember my 22nd birthday now and I vaguely remember something like that happening but I cannot fully remember anything at all. In my mind, everything is jumbled up and I know that I will lose any inkling of this memory soon.

I find this very very disturbing. I have tried talking to The Boyfriend about this but yet I don't really know what to say because after all, it would involve talking about my past, which is a touchy subject. I don't understand why I feel this way and definitely don't expect anybody to.

But I just want to know why.

Sometimes I can even look at my dog, my precious Junior, and for a split second stop and think if he were really my dog. And I know this because I am looking at him, knowing fully well that he is my dog but yet I don't recognise him. Sometimes.

And sometimes I look at The Boyfriend and wonder if I had just gotten to know him? He would suddenly seem like a stranger to me. And then I would try to recall the past I had with him but yet everything would be blurry and fuzzy.

Reading this I think I sound mad and deluded even to myself.

I wonder whether there is really such a thing as going crazy and if so, am I on the way to that demise? Or is it just depression? Or memory loss - amnesia maybe? Or Alzheimer's?

Glad to know that this does not happen when I am studying for my exams though.

Besides all this depression crap, I also have some weird thoughts in my head with relation to The Boyfriend. I don't know how to put it in words. It is like, he is in my life and I know we have a future together which I want, but all these funny thoughts like ...

Wanting to feel wanted - although I know fully well that I am in every aspect of my life. But mostly, I want to feel wanted by The Boyfriend. I think our relationship has come to a point where its very stable and he's comfortable with me as I'm with him. Nothing is lacking but something that I cannot put my finger on. Something that I cannot place, but yet is important to me.

...

Was interrupted by a phone call from someone who had just had a bad breakup. No reasons given which I felt was unfair to him. Through the conversation I realised how unfair it would be to a person who had given their all to a relationship yet receive nothing in return.

And I hope that I do not do that to the one I love.

This entry is one that is confused, alone and unexplainable. I wonder who can give me the answers to my queries.

No harm in wondering - because no one can, if I can't.

2009-12-06T04:44:00.002+08:00

Recently I've been sick. Down with asthma - 3 times in a month between November and December.

I had truly quit smoking since the first attack in late November, probably because of the office's environment which is full of fur and is not conducive for asthmatics if they stay in that office for too long. In such a small confined space, it is easy for people with allergies to act up. A few of my friends who have been to the office have ended up with blocked noses or asthma attacks too.

Surprisingly with the quitting of smoking, the asthma attacks increased, and the last one (which admitted me into hospital) also included hyperventilation.

However, the myth that quitting smoking increases your body weight is untrue.

Anyhow, my last trip to the A&E department of Tan Tock Seng was definitely a clear yet hazy one. Don't know how was that possible, but it is. I was like in semi-conscious yet fully conscious state.

I was recuperating from my 2nd attack, which had happened just the day before the 3rd one, and that night I was going over to The Boyfriend's house to eat some freshly caught fish his father had caught in the South China Sea on one of his fishing trips.

However, I didn't make it to his house because halfway through, I suddenly could not breathe but it was not like a normal asthma attack where my chest totally tightens and my lungs become painful with each breath I take.

Instead, I was rapidly taking in short breaths and my fists were tightly clenched into a ball. I could vaguely feel my nails digging into my palm but yet everything felt numb. My toes and legs were also numbing up and even my face felt like there were streaks of blood running all over it with that infamous prickly sensation one gets when a body part numbs up.

I could not walk nor stand properly, and The Boyfriend had to put me back into the car and get his parents to send us to the hospital as I was wailing like a baby and trying to breathe.

Upon reaching the hospital, I was put immediately into a wheelchair and wheeled to the nebulizer, which I am so familiar with since childhood. My whole body was trembling and I felt dizzy yet awake.

After the nebulizer, a pretty doctor wheeled me to a room to have my heart checked. I think she suspected I was having a heart attack as well because even after the nebulizer, asthmatic patients are supposed to be calm and breathing properly, but I was not. I was still taking in gasps of air and trembling like a leaf.

The embarrassing part is: I could not even unclench my fists to lift up my blouse and bra for her to stick these stickers on to check my heart on a large machine.

And she had to do it. Not that I could care very much, because I was quite partially invalid.

She said my heart was ok, to which I had no specific feelings of joy or relief. I remember staring blankly into space and feeling terribly cold.

After that, she put me on an oxygen tank for about an hour, inserting two tubes that carried the oxygen into my nostrils, although I was breathing through my mouth. I sat staring ahead, vaguely aware of an old man lying on a hospital bed next to me.

I watched as an old woman was wheeled on a bed into the room where I was sitting, and stared at her as she went into the makeshift toilet. When she came out, she did not know how to use the sink (which was makeshift and had to use the foot to pump water out of the tap) and her nurse had gone away because the old woman had taken a very long time in the toilet.

The old woman looked at me but I could not open my mouth to speak to her because everything was still numb and I felt like I could not even speak a common language with her. Mostly, I did not want to say anything or have any contact with anyone.

I never felt more alone, and remember thinking, "This place only has old people. I barely see anybody my age. Maybe this is what it is like to die alone in sickness with no one beside you,"

The Boyfriend and his parents were not allowed into the room where I was. They had been waiting for over 2 hours already and somewhere in my still functioning heart I felt bad to have caused trouble for them.

At some point in time, The Boyfriend managed to ask for access to come and see me, but I couldnt look at him because I felt so drained of energy and my body still felt numb. But I think I spoke some cohesive words to him and we had a conversation before he was chased out by a security guard.

My own parents did not come because The Boyfriend told them not to come as everything was under control. Besides, I did not want both sets of parents meeting each other in such dire straits.

I felt much better after an hour on the oxygen tank, and slowly my fists began to unclench. I saw the reddish marks of my nails clawing into the skin on my palm. This was not the first time I had hyperventilated. When I was 14, I had hyperventilated into a state of unconsciousness not unsimilar to the one I was in.

A senior doctor came and chatted to me about my condition and recent attacks. He said i had hyperventilated as well and asked if I wanted to be discharged to which I agreed to immediately as I couldn't stand the cold and lonely hospital any longer. He put me on a higher dosage of steroids compared to the ones my GP had prescribed.

I was wheeled out of the cold room into The Boyfriend's waiting arms.

2009-11-29T02:31:00.002+08:00

I know I know. It's been a month.

With the launch of The Water Dish, I am so busy uploading product information on all the MANY pet products that I can't even start to believe just how saturated the pet product market is. Well, not nearly as saturated as the online blogshops that are springing up everywhere like wild mushrooms, that is.

Nowadays pets and their owners are spoilt for choice, with everything ranging from Mink Oil Sprays to different kinds of cat/dog food, different brands...yet seeming oddly similar yet? That is why no matter how saturated the pet market is, there is still a way to get those consumers to believe that only WE, can provide the information they need to choose the best product for their pet. (And then of course, buy from us lah.)

And of course, neglecting my blog to blog on The Water Dish Blog is another crime I am guilty of. Everytime I start blogging there, I just get so filled with guilt because I have absolutely no time for this poor blog that has been with me for the past 6 years.

But anyhow here I am. If there is one thing I have learnt from setting up my own online pet store - it is compassion.

Not entrepreneurship (how can you learn something like that?), nor accounting - but by merely meeting each and every one of my customers (excluding Branden's friends and relatives whom he delivers to), I have learnt that earning money from these people is not everything.

Firstly, I am speaking of people who are elderly, ranging from their fifties to their seventies.

There is Nancy, a 70-ish but looking more like 50plus lady, who lives in one of those old 2-room flats in Beach Road. I have delivered to her about 4 times, and she orders from us every week. Each week, her orders are at least 3 cartons of cat canned food of assorted flavours and sometimes she orders cat litter.

She feeds stray cats living in her area, and has about 10 or 15 stray cats living in her house. She cannot adopt the other 40 plus cats that she feeds in the neighbourhood though, but everyday, she feeds them at their usual spot.

She is a pint-sized lady and everytime I deliver to her, I always have little chats with her, and she revealed that she recently had to make trips to the doctor because of her high blood pressure and her neck problems. She is also not working and is unmarried.

Although Nancy orders in volume, our profits are negligible, because we charge her at a minimal rate, considering the fact that she is not earning money yet has so much kindness in her heart to provide for all these animals and to take care of them when they are ill. However, Nancy has recommended alot of her friends to us and one of them is her neighbour.

Her neighbour, Shu Qing, remains a mystery. She has only ordered twice from us, once every month, and I only delivered to her once. When I went to her house with Desmond, I smelt a funny skanky smell emitting from her flat. I didn't say anything as I thought it was from the rubbish chute downstairs as she lives only on the second floor.

However, when Shu Qing's son/husband (I do not know), opened the door, it was affirmative that the stench was from their house. A peep into the one/two-room flat shocked me - as the ENTIRE flat was filled with rubbish. Cardboard, plastic bags, newspapers, and many many other things - such that there was absolutely no space to walk. The son/husband of Shu Qing himself had to squeeze through a pile of rubbish to get to the door.

A large dog was standing on some rubbish in the house, barking at us. But they had ordered CAT food.

I didn't enquire much about the dog, because the man was busy haggling with me over the price in the invoice. It was $132.10, but he insisted that we only charged him $130 the previous time. In the end, he gave me $132.10 but immediately called Nancy to complain and I had to return Nancy the $2.10 to be returned to him. In the end I found out that Branden charged them $130 the previous time and paid $2.10 out of his own pocket.

I thought that they were karang guni or something, but Nancy said, no, the son/husband is a retired teacher! And that they are extremely miserly. But I guess since they are feeding stray animals (the large dog is a mongrel stray breed), they must have some form of kindness an compassion in them, and looking at their living conditions, $2.10 is just a small amount to perhaps ease their woes (if any).

Next, there is Elaine, who feeds stray cats in my area. She too, is unmarried and lives with her sister and 5 (stray but adopted from my area) cats. She is a soft-spoken and kind-looking woman.

Every morning before she goes to work, she will go to Pasir Ris Farmway where she rents a cattery space for her 70plus stray cats which she has personally adopted, neutered and nursed in sickness. After work, she goes home and feeds the cats in her own home, and once or twice a week, she goes to Sims Avenue to feed more stray cats in that district, which she has been feeding for years.

Then, about midnight, she continues on to feed the stray cats in my area. I delivered to her last month and she said that she had found 2 kittens and were fostering them in her home until they were ready to be neutered - then she would put them in the cattery with the other cats.

Do not think that stray cat feeders are irresponsible, because ALL the stray cat feeders I know, bring their fostered stray cats to the vet to get them neutered, solely out of their own pocket.

And this is what, I guess, is called compassion. To be able to care for animals that need care and concern. Luckily for them, there are more of these kind souls around than animal abusers who once went on a killing spree and are probably still killing and abusing. For the people who think that animals are a waste of time, effort and money, obviously are more self-centred than they think themselves to be.

The human race is not the only race living on this planet. We as a whole, should learn to be more compassionate, kind and forgiving to others, and especially to the animals who have never meant to interfere with our way of life, nor cause us any harm (except when provoked).

2009-10-10T15:18:00.004+08:00

Recently, The Boyfriend has been hit on quite a lot at work. There was a girl working at a chocolate store who wanted to get to know him and even sent her boss to ask him if he were attached. I was quite surprised to know about this and naturally asked him if he did indeed get to know her.

He said, "Of course not! She doesn't even know me yet wants to get to know me and has a crush on me?? Isn't that very superficial?"

I thought that usually it was the first impression that others get of someone that makes them want to know the person more.

Then, for 3 days in a row, he was constantly approached by a tranny ("wah it is damn ugly I tell you!" said he) who kept smiling and waving at him and even introduced herself to him. It got to the point where he had to run off to the toilet upon spotting him from afar.

One day, I decided to go to his workplace and meet him so that we could have lunch together. Of course, I also wanted to catch a glimpse of this so-called superficial girl. We went for lunch, and subsequently I hung out with him at his workplace because I had some time to kill before going off to the bank to settle some banking matters.

In the 2 hours, I caught the girl staring at him and at me each time I looked in her direction. It is not easy to avoid looking in that direction because of the layout of the place. She, however, had no 'easy view' of me and The Boyfriend, hence I found it weird that she should keep looking at us.

Despite my attempts to avoid her, I had to walk pass her store when I went to the toilet. She, who was then attending to a customer who wanted to buy chocolates, stopped in mid-sentence and continued staring/glaring at me as I walked pass.

I did not want to give her the idea that I knew she was hitting on my boyfriend, so I kept my face blank at all times.

A few days later, I went to my boyfriend's workplace with Pamela, and of course I told her all about the girl. We were supposed to have supper together with The Boyfriend. As we waited for him to knock off, we decided to walk around the place.

We went to the chocolate store and looked at the chocolates. Suddenly, Pamela told me that the girl was whispering about me to her colleague. I felt very irritated by that action.

Initially, I did not feel jealous at all when The Boyfriend told me about her. In fact, I repeatedly asked him to be friends with her so that he could make more friends. No girlfriend will like it if their boyfriend goes around knowing girls without their approval, but the fact that The Boyfriend does not even like knowing girls makes me feel that he should make more new female friends.

I know, girls - or just me - are very contradicting. Or maybe I just don't find Chocolate Girl a threat.

But the fact that Chocolate Girl should gossip about me is infuriating. And blatantly in front of me too, while I was directly in front of her!

Anyhow, I felt quite smug after the whole episode because it shows that she's obviously upset by my presence - disrupting her fantasies of her eye candy, my boyfriend. And it shows that she's noticing him alot. I'm still smug as ever because I know she will never get anything out of him except her own fantasies.

Despite my repeated attempts to get The Boyfriend to get to know more new females, he has only been chatting to aunties above the age of forty. I don't know why he does not want to know more new females (or actually I do - because he finds it pointless), neither do I know why I keep pushing him to know more new females. Maybe because I'm always looking for trouble.

ANYWAY. My online pet shop is going to be launched real soon!

The website is about done, and we've already started doing deliveries for friends, friends of friends and relatives. Basically we carry almost all pet food brands, pet grooming products, cat litter and pet accessories such as feeding bowls, pet feeders, litter trays etc.

Because there is no website yet, all orders can be directed to enquiries@thewaterdish.com.sg.

Just let me know which pet food brand you need.

Quite happy with the current orders. Though we only started deliveries 2 weeks ago, we do have a few deliveries each week.

BUT because I'm quite busy with the preparation of the website, I have completely neglected my studies. Now it's the study break, with my exams coming up in 3 weeks and I have not touched on a SINGLE TOPIC.

Die.

2009-10-03T15:50:00.000+08:00

Once upon a time, there was a bird. He was adorned with two perfect wings and with glossy, colourful, marvelous feathers. In short, he was a creature made to fly about freely in the sky, bringing joy to everyone who saw him.

One day, a woman saw this bird and fell in love with him. She watched his flight, her mouth wide in amazement, her heart pounding, her eyes shining with excitement. She invited the bird to fly with her, and the two travelled across the sky in perfect harmony. She admired and venerated and celebrated that bird.

But then she thought: He might want to visit far-off mountains!

And she was afraid, afraid that she would never feel the same way about any other bird. And she felt envy, envy for the bird's ability to fly.

And she felt alone.

And she thought: "I'm going to set a trap. The next time the bird appears, he will never leave again."

The bird, who was also in love, returned the following day, fell into the trap and was put in a cage.

She looked at the bird everyday. There he was, the object of her passion, and she showed him to her friends, who said: 'Now you have everything you could possibly want.' However, a strange transformation began to take place: now that she had the bird and no longer needed to woo him, she began to lose interest.

The bird, unable to fly and express the true meaning of his life, began to waste away and his feathers to lose their gloss; he grew ugly; and the woman no longer paid him any attention, except by feeding him and cleaning out his cage.

One day, the bird died. The woman felt terribly sad and spent all her time thinking about him. But she did not remember the cage, she thought only of the day when she had seen him for the first time, flying contentedly amongst the clouds.

If she had looked more deeply into herself, she would have realised that what had thrilled her about the bird was his freedom, his energy of his wings in motion, not his physical body.

Without the bird, her life too lost all meaning, and Death came knocking at her door. "Why have you come?" she asked Death.

"So that you can fly once more with him across the sky," Death replied. "If you had allowed him to come and go, you would have loved and admired him even more; alas, you now need me in order to find him again,"

I have finished reading Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho. It is such a wonderfully sad, yet meaningful book. It is about a girl who willingly goes into prostitution although her ultimate goals of her life is to find love, get married and have children. One day, she sees a man and falls in love with him - or rather, they fall in love with one another.

The man is young, rich, famous and handsome. He also knows that she is a prostitute but he really loves her. She however, is convinced that their relationship is based on freedom and chooses to leave him and go back to her country (which is Brazil - story takes place in Switzerland). She believes that to really and truly love someone, she cannot possess him because then it would make their 'dream-like love' into reality, and once committed, the onslaught of having children, mistresses, affairs and losing interest would start.

But of course the story ends happily with the man intercepting her stopover in Paris with a bunch of roses.

Me, being utterly practical, have managed to sift through all the sad and meaningful proses in the story to get the main point of what the author is trying to say, hence the way I put it here is not doing the book justice. In fact, I probably make it sound like just another chick lit when it is far, FAR from it.

And this story has actually made me rethink my relationship with The Boyfriend, making me wonder if I have really experienced true love before. I realised that every time I think of The Boyfriend, I actually do think of the first time when I saw him - that first time when we barely spoke.

True love can only be defined by your own limits and boundaries, for everyone's aspect of love is different. But in order to experience true love, you must be able to know yourself well and deep.

I for one don't think I know myself very well. The Boyfriend knows me much better than I ever expect him to, and I must admit, even better than myself.

Our relationship is not like the lady and her bird - since The Boyfriend is not much of a 'flying' type, more of a 'homely' type, there is really no need for me to cage him up and really he is pretty much free to do whatever he wants.

Usually he wants me.

One thing is for sure - never ever prevent a man from doing sports.

Other than sex, which guarantees body and soul contact with another person, sports is the only other activity a man can do that also has bodily contact, albeit with another man. That is why The Boyfriend is in KL for the weekend watching some tennis match.

Yeah, go read Eleven Minutes. It is a darn good read.

2009-09-09T21:10:00.002+08:00

A few years ago, I wrote a list. It is a list filled with people whom I would like to have at my funeral. I wrote in the list about fifty to sixty people, as well as the type of coffin, flowers, urn and clothes I would like to have when I am dead. I also included a note, for my parents, so that they would know what to do upon finding the list. I put the list in a box high up in my wardrobe.

I was about seventeen at that time.

At that time, the reason why I wrote it is because I thought I was going to die. I told no one about it because it would seem ridiculous and even stupid, for I was having a happy life, about to enter poly, a fresh new life that seemed exciting and nothing seemed wrong. In fact, nothing was wrong.

But I had always thought that I was just a teeny weeny bit psychic since I was a young child. I could see my future, glimpses of it, when I was five till I was twelve. I always knew what was going to happen in the next year. It wasn't like I could look into the future whenever I wanted; it was more of when a specific time came, I would automatically know what I was going to be, or going to go through in a few months, or in the next year. And it certainly was not deja vu. That is a whole new topic (I can experience the exact same deja vu a maximum of 3 times).

Once I hit thirteen though, the 'psychic' flashes became less and less frequent. For instance, if they happened twice in a year, now it was once a year.

And as I grew older, the flashes reduced, until they ceased. So naturally, when I hit 17 (or 16 in my case since my birthday is pretty redundant), I thought I was going to die, because I could no longer sense or feel my future. In fact, when I was about 15, I stopped seeing the future and it took me 2 years to realise that if I couldn't see the future, then it must be because I had no future.

So when I was 17 (or 16), I wrote the list because it was kind of affirmative at that time that I was going to die.

Of course, by now, five years from then, the people in the list have changed. Some I am no longer in contact with, while other people whom I would love to have around me even in death, ought to be on that list.

Then there is that medium-sized handful who will still remain on that list. Friends whom have always been there, some not always there, but always make the effort to stay in touch. I believe that till this relatively old yet young age of 22, such friends will always remain friends. Nevertheless, new friends after the age of seventeen should not be discluded; afterall time does not determine if a friend is a friend.

Rambling about all this occured when I heard the song from Branden - Her Diamonds by Rob Thomas. I paid special attention to it because Branden told me that he wrote it for his wife, who was suffering from a terminal illness. I later found out that his wife even sang backup on it.

By the light of the moon
She rubs her eyes
Sits down on the bed and starts to cry
And there's something less about her
And I don't know what I'm supposed to do
So I sit down and I cry too
And don't let her see

Listening to that song closely brings me to almost tears. It touches me how a couple can go through so much despite the odds - though I wouldn't really know that for sure, in Rob Thomas' case; but then it reminds me of how I went through the early part of this year when I truly thought I was going to die of some sort of cancer.

Of course, up till now that still is not ascertained yet because I still have year-end checkups, though I feel thoroughly well now. At least well enough to function than before.

And she says
Ooh I can't take no more
Her tears like diamonds on the floor
And her diamonds bring me down
Cuz I can't help her now
She's down in it
She tried her best and now she can't win it
Hard to see them on the ground
Her diamonds falling down

When I wrote the list, nobody knew that I thought I was going to die. Nobody sensed anything amidst with me, because I was normal, I felt normal and I acted normal. I didn't even feel that anything was wrong with dying because life had provided me with a pretty good one despite my youth.

So I was not afraid to die.

But now, I realised that it would be cruel to die and leave everyone who loves you behind. I am not going to talk about the afterlife because for me, there is none. However way you would like to read that last sentence.

Perhaps now I have realised that having someone like The Boyfriend to love me so wholeheartedly, with good friends who cherish friendships, with a relatively happy life with my dog, it would be downright cruel to them to just die like a worthless cockroach.

When I think back to those days when I really thought of death, I realise that I've actually lived past my twenty-first birthday and the twenty-second one is on its way. I don't know if the psychic senses are really gone, because up till now, sometimes, I would feel someone calling me, look at my phone, and it starts ringing. And of course, it is the person whom I felt/thought it was.

And then there's those times when I think of a certain person, and on the same day, or maybe a few days later, I would see that same person when I have not seen them in years.

Don't know what it is exactly, or maybe everyone experiences such mind boggling freakiness with the same frequencies as I do and it isn't really psychic working.

But one thing I know for sure is that I know I have a future and am not going to die just because I don't get flashes of my future. I am going to look for that list when The Boyfriend is over at my place because I don't dare to open that part of my wardrobe. Recently alot of cockroaches have been seen crawling around my wardrobe (on the outside) that I'm pretty freaked out.

Oh and the method I thought I was going to die of? Freak accidents. Crossing the road - WHAM! - hit by a car. Killer litter - CRASH - on my head and I die slowly of blood loss. Accidentally tripping over my shoe and heading into a sharp object that pierces my vital parts and its a quick death. Dying of food poisoning, alcohol poisoning, sleeping and never waking up.

Yeah.

2009-08-09T16:09:00.002+08:00

Omg my blog has been so so deprived. I know it's not a common occurence since I've blogged alot in the past; or maybe now I'm much happier so I have less to rant about.

That day ACRA sent me a letter and it's heading was - "Congratulations on becoming the owner of a new business!" I am quite happy about that, and some good, fine plans are underway with my business partner, who will remain as secret as what the business is about. Perhaps the black cloth will unveil the plans when the business is officially launched.

Now turn away
Cuz I'm awful just to see
Cuz all my hair's abandoned all my body
Oh my agony
Know that I will never marry
Baby I'm just soggy from the chemo
But counting down the days to go

The Boyfriend's grandmother has just passed away due to lung cancer. It is a difficult time for his family. I am still considering if I should go to the wake tonight.

Just last night, I dreamt that The Boyfriend proposed to me! Dreamt is the word. The dream was sweet and he even bought a house. And he proposed in the empty house. How romantic! ROFL.

Obviously, we do have plans to get engaged within 2 years and to live together. Living together may be a little tough to project within 2 years, but well we're trying. Everytime we quarrel, I always think, "That's it man, I've had enough," and believe me, The Boyfriend has had to endure many of my tantrums (although sometimes it really IS his fault).

But then, after I've calmed down and he's calmed down, I always feel extremely sorry (when it's my fault) and I just love him more each time.

I've read somewhere that girls break up with their boyfriends when they've found someone who is better than him, which is called trading up. Obviously, I feel that I've traded up many times, only to realise that trading up does not necessarily mean 'happier'. Then, it would come to the whole argument of being 'satisfied with what you have' etc.

But sometimes, how to be happy with the goods that you've recently purchased, if the good does not perform as well as the advertisements claim it should? Therefore, in comes cognitive dissonance.

I admit, that even with my near-perfect Boyfriend, I still sometimes have fleeting thoughts of trading up, on a whim. The saying, "the leopard never changes its spots" does apply to me, but then again, my spots do always change colour and position.

But now, although I see someone who may seem like it is worth trading up for, at the back of my mind I know that no one can ever compare with The Boyfriend. It is just a grey sheet of matter that's clouding my vision, that's all. When I see The Boyfriend in the flesh again, I simply melt away and those fleeting thoughts go away again.

The Boyfriend knows all about my fleeting thoughts but he takes it in a man's stride. That is one of the attributes that I admire about him. He may look so young but his thoughts are an old man's. Well maybe not old old, but middle-aged old.

Just last night, before I dreamt about his proposal, I lay in bed, unable to sleep. Obviously, he was knocked out like a pig next to me, so I had to force my brain to tire out. So I began thinking, back to the first time we met. He was my client, and at that time I was with Mr Oxley Road.

We did talk on the phone prior to our first meeting, and I noted that his voice was deep and a little husky. And he sounded intelligent and good-looking, but I wasn't about to put my bets on his looks.

We were supposed to meet to discuss his upcoming event, but although he was directly liaising with me via email then, he barely spoke to me when we met up. He was hanging at the back of this group of guys who were his campmates, all of whom were asking questions eagerly about the event. Yes, that includes Alan and Eugene. In fact, all the faces I don't remember except theirs.

I definitely noticed The Boyfriend, because I notice the shy and quiet ones first. And besides, he was cute! Cute in a 'eye-candy' sort of way, but yet not the type I would go for, because he seemed too righteous, too good, that we would certainly be incompatible.

I raved about The Boyfriend to Mr Oxley Road, and I remember him being sarcastic about it.

Our second meeting was for their food tasting, where The Boyfriend and his friends (one of whom my poly mate) met Rizal, the head chef. Rizal is a key person in this whole thing because subsequently, he would tease me about The Boyfriend although we were not together yet. After that, I would say to him, "See la, let you tease until we're really together already,"

At the event, he brought a girl, who shall not be named. He was interested in her then, but obviously not interested enough, because he spent most of the event with me. Subsequently leading to a misunderstanding amongst all his campmates that I was his date instead of her. Also, he gave me a cheque with Timbre's name spelt wrongly. He then said that he would get his mum to change the cheque. I immediately minused points for him because I thought that he was a mummy's boy.

At the point, Mr Oxley Road and I had broken up, and I was seeing a few different guys.

After the event, we still kept in contact, but only because there was something wrong with his invoice. SAF kept rejecting the invoice that Timbre gave them. So, I had to take my own personal time to meet him. One of which was a meal at Vivo's Carnivore with Alan and Eugene. But the invoice was rejected again so I had to prepare another one and go meet him myself.

I remember I drove to his house on a weekend just to pass him the stupid invoice. Not that far, as we live close to each other. I remember he was walking towards my car, and he stopped in the middle of the road. I passed him the invoice and we made some small talk. Just then, a car came up behind me and I was forced to move so as not to obstruct the way, so I asked him to come into the car so as not to seem rude as to just drive off. Apparently, here's what he thought (told to me months after it happened):

"I thought you were trying to seduce me, wearing that super short skirt and asking me to get into your car! Why would you want me to get in when you just need to pass me the invoice?"

Can't blame him, he knows nothing about road rules since he has not passed his driving test. And I didn't think the skirt was short at all lah!

Subsequently, the invoice was rejected again, so he had to come down to Timbre where I was having an event to have it collected. Rizal the head chef saw him and thought that we were dating! He went to tease The Boyfriend about it and I was damn embarrassed because obviously I didn't want anybody putting thoughts into his head.

After god knows how many rounds of rejected invoices, finally it was accepted.

And we ceased contact.

I went on living my insane life and seeing different guys, having a whale of a time being single. Then, one fine night, my phone rang and it was The Boyfriend. Which came as a shock to me (and I think I blogged about this before so I'll fast forward) but we began chatting almost every night then.

We could talk about anything and everything, and I realised that he was really quite a perfect person with good morals, and he was really righteous and full of integrity (kudos to my accurate first impression).

At that time, he went clubbing quite often, and one night at about 4am, he called me. I was quite pissed as I was very tired and suffering from insomnia, and had just drifted off to sleep when he disturbed me with his call.

"Why are you calling me so late for?? Are you mad??!" I screeched.

"I don't know, I just felt like calling you," he sounded sheepish.

"How was your clubbing session? Found any nice girls?" I asked, still pissed.

"I was kinda wishing that you were there," he said.

Now that got my attention. Was this a profession of infatuation at 4am in the wee hours of the morning?

Obviously not.

"Why?" I asked, though knowing him, I knew what his answer would be.

"I just thought you'd be there, because it was quite boring and I thought I could look for you since you club so often. Then we could hang out and it wouldn't be so boring," he said.

"Obviously I'm at home sleeping you ass. And what do you treat me as, someone to grind because there's a lack of girls??"

"Of course not, I just thought that you would be fun to be with," he said.

Oh did I forget to mention that he always knows the right thing to say so that girls wouldn't get angry with him?

Of course at this point of time I realised that even the most righteous guy can have wild thoughts.

A few months passed, whereby I almost never called him. He called weekly, then twice a week, then few times a week, then almost everyday. I was beginning to wonder when he would ask me out, then I pushed that thought away because he never asked girls out, and certainly not strange girls like me. He only asked that girl whom he was interested in to his event and after the event, they didn't keep in contact.

Then, I was busy web-camming with The Canadian and soon, he was due to come. One fine night, when I was driving The Canadian around with Thomas and Irene, The Boyfriend called. I said I was busy and would call him back.

But I never did.

At this point, he was secretly reading my blog and becoming more and more intrigued by me although he knew that I was seeing The Canadian. But somehow, he didn't see The Canadian as anything serious.

Of course, I never knew.

He planned his attack well, calling me again a few days after The Canadian left for Maple Land. Now, I merely treated him as a friend because well, I had The Canadian. We resumed our nightly chats (which was still possible because of the time difference in Canada and Singapore, I didn't need to be online). We came up with a 'fake relationship' in which I was to be his fake girlfriend because he didn't know what it felt like having a girlfriend.

A few weeks later, The Boyfriend had to leave for Brunei. Some army thing. We wanted to hang up early but somehow ended up chatting until 5ish in the morning, when he had to leave for the airport. In the 10 days that he was gone, somehow I managed to start hanging out with a couple of Brazilians. The Boyfriend and The Canadian were far from my mind.

When The Boyfriend finally came back, I remember his text, "Hi honey, I'm home!"

I had completely forgotten, and lost track of time.

So at this point of time, I was juggling The Canadian (in the wee hours of the night due to time difference), The Boyfriend (conversations end about midnight because army guys need to sleep early) and The Brazilian (whom I only meet on weekends).

*****

One day, after an event at Timbre, The Boyfriend suddenly called me and asked me out. He is random like that but I agreed, although I was shabbily dressed but honestly, I didn't care, lest he accuse me of trying to seduce him again.

We went to watch a movie where he asked me if I were cold. I said yes unsuspectingly, because well, I was cold as I was shabbily dressed without a jacket. And he put his arms around me.

I almost died.

I thought he was an innocent kid! Who knew, who knew.

It was all very high school and romantic and sweet. We spent a few hours chatting in my car again. He thought that I was interested in him because I was willing to spend my time to talk to him and did not ask him to get out of my car.

Of course, the communication between the Canadian and I lessened. He felt it and began making noise. But, I was too busy with too many guys and friends and work.

The Boyfriend asked me out two more times, and on our third date, we went drinking at Paulaner's. There, he told me that he was interested in this girl, who was his childhood crush. Apparently she was interested in him too, because he had suddenly blossomed into a handsome young man.

But when we left the bar, he held my hand.

Warning signs flashed in my head. I thought that I had been duped. HE was the player!

But I decided to play it cool and on the ride in the cab home, he tried to kiss me but I feigned ignorance and turned my head away. And he chickened out.

It was the Christmas season, and I learnt that The Boyfriend had asked his childhood crush out on Christmas Eve. He also told her about me. I was angry because I thought that he was blatantly playing two girls.

I decided to spend more time with The Brazilian instead. At least I knew for sure that he was a player. But The Boyfriend asked me out consecutively for 2 days after his date with childhood crush and that was when I knew that I had won.

Then, it was my birthday. I was drunk when The Boyfriend finally arrived. I kept yelling for him to lean on, for him to bring me to the toilet. Apart from Pamela, who was taking care of me, it was he who I dragged around on my drunken spree. Irene thought that we were already together. Poor him.

After my birthday, it was a new year. The Canadian and I kind of fell out, because he thought that I simply didn't care anymore.

The Boyfriend and I kept it up with him constantly asking me out. I noticed a great difference in him - he would make an effort to come out of camp just to see me, whereas he was mostly always in camp before he started asking me out.

He finally kissed me (in which I will not go into detail of) and things between us blossomed. But I was still seeing The Brazilian.

And then, one day, he told me that he had told his childhood crush that he was interested in me. She was crushed indeed.

Things got more serious and even when I saw The Brazilian, I was thinking of The Boyfriend. I decided to stop seeing The Brazilian. I was also feeling guilty over The Canadian.

But one day, The Boyfriend decided that he was guilty over me and wanted to call it off. I shall not go into detail of this horrendous state because I have blogged about it before and the gist of it is that The Boyfriend called us on and off because he felt guilty.

But he got his act together and we began dating for real. And one day, he told me that he loved me. I cannot put into words how touched I was then. I still am now, whenever he says he loves me, I know that he means it.

I was hesitant about getting together with him though, as I thought we could not last. Finally, I got my act together and told him that we should indeed be together, after a very romantic Valentine's Day.

Yes, women's decisions are very much based on their emotions, therefore romance DOES help in influencing their decisions.

From then on, we are the way we are. There are still ups and downs such as revenging third-party childhood crushes, The Canadian, who tried to contact me, religion, my dressing, his moody face, whatever, anything also have.

But we always solve the problem and I always love him more than ever. And I know that he will never leave me because he does not believe in trading up. I am so much happier - I sleep earlier because he sleeps early, I seldom go clubbing anymore, I even go to church because of him (but haven't been going these past few weeks), I don't even feel like playing around anymore (although I do get fleeting thoughts).

It is a blessing when one can find another partner who loves them as much or more than they love him/her. But it is knowing that your partner is for keeps that makes life so much more beautiful.

A Large Chapter - Closed

2009-06-30T18:30:00.002+08:00

Today is my last day at Timbre.

It is kind of sad actually, considering the fact that I have been with Timbre since the day they began, as a mere waitress; and how quickly time flies.

Four years have passed.

This is me, as a waitress, back in 2005.

At that time, I loved going to work because everyone was fun - we were like a family. Especially with JV, who was then a bartender.

my favourite.

There were the weekly nights out to some club - either Phuture, Zouk or Rouge or at that time, MOS.

THIS is the original batch of servers, bartenders, supervisors and managers of Timbre in 2004. Or 2005. I can't remember.

Who can forget Rosalin. The little Rose of Timbre.

Then there was Hendrix, the lovable father figure.

And of course, Danny.

There was the 1st staff chalet, and then the 2nd staff chalet, where I became the events co-ordinator and catering supervisor for Timbre.

Amar, my godbrother.

And of course, the Timbre Anniversaries. I will never forget that one where I was called on stage to receive the Long Service Staff Award.

This is the 3rd Anniversary at Timbre@ The Substation.

And of course, the company trip to Bali last year.

4 long years. And now it is time for me to leave these people with whom I have spent my formative teenage years, with whom I have grown with into adulthood. People have come and others have gone. Friendships were forged with many from all walks of life. Clients remain friends; the Timbre family has expanded and at its peak, I shall take a bow and leave.

The proper closure of a good and fulfilling chapter of my life, never to be forgotten, only to head to a fresh new beginning.

(but why do I feel that I dread going to school again?)

2009-06-09T01:38:00.004+08:00

I know I know, it has been yet another long drag of days of empty entries. My life hasn't exactly been THAT busy - maybe it was a lack of inspiration of what to blog about since there isn't really much going on nowadays...

TIMBRE has shifted office from our 'cosy' little loft above Timbre@ The Substation to a modern, fully-equipped PROPER office space above Timbre@ Old School. Some vast improvements made were:

We finally have enough tables and chairs for everyone (the 'loft' above T1 was horrendously small and squeezy)
We have a full pantry now available at anytime (previously for drinks, one had to go out of Timbre to buy or wait for the bar to open at 5pm)
We are no longer claustrophobic as our new office has large windows and a somewhat good view of the carpark below, which usually has some fab looking cars owned by rich men
We are not swamped by files and papers which took over space on the floors and crept up the walls (now everything is neatly filed in big spacious cabinets)

But ONE major disadvantage is climbing up THAT flight of stairs (some say its 133 steps, some say its 111 steps - varies probably with the breathing pattern). I tell you, climbing up that flight of stairs is no joke. One starts from the back of Plaza Singapura, in between that and The Cathay, all the way up Mount Sophia.

I climb it extremely slowly everyday, and even so, it's a feat. So far I have climbed it twice. Once, when I was climbing, my iPod actually played The Climb by Miley Cyrus!!! I groaned with the chore of the uphill scale plus the sheer irony of it all.

I expect to get better at it as the days pass. Therefore, I absolutely do not wear heels to work unless I'm going to be driven. Should I miss a footing and fall down that flight of stairs..

That shall be the end of me.

One more good thing that's happening is that my cute little Truffle is recovering very well! She now walks with a less drunken swagger, she can balance herself pretty well, she can eat on her own, do her kitty business on her own, she can MEOW damn loudly and she can jump up beds!

I feel that she is going to remain at this kitten size and not grow anymore. When Cadbury was her age - 9 months - he was certainly much bigger than Truffle is now. So was Strudel.

Remaining at kitten size can be cute in a way. And she's becoming very pretty! Her eyes are still blue and her face is slim like a Siamese cat's.

Damn cute.

I have not been going for my follow ups. Perhaps I now have developed a phobia of seeing the doctor because there is nothing but pain when I see him. I was supposed to go this morning but I skipped it because...I feel well!

And it's at 9am...so early. And I don't want to go alone. The Boyfriend is not free to accompany me and I don't want to trouble my mother to take leave from work.

I promise I will go when someone is free to accompany me. Or when I feel sick again. Whichever comes first.

I also have not clubbed since October last year. That's like 8 months!!! I could have a baby already.

I feel like some hermit in a shell. The clubs are calling out to me already. I feel the urge coming. I keep asking The Boyfriend to come clubbing with me but he's just not the clubbing sort. And besides, clubbing is kinda boring when there are so many better ways to spend my time. Such as curling up with a good bottle of wine and a great movie at home. And lots of chocolate.

And anyway I have only JUST resumed my right to alcohol because my medication has ended. But I still feel tired very easily. BUT I think the time is coming. Real soon.

One more good thing is that although I have only been with The Boyfriend for what, 4 months?, I feel that I've known him for years. Perhaps it's the fact that we spend every possible moment together (except for Friday nights, when he HAS to play tennis with his BFF) and he loves to talk to me (although sometimes I'm like, spacing out. I always feel like I'm in a dream and everything around me is woozy).

And he's finally let go of his insecurities. Which means we're a very happy and peaceful couple with no quarrels!

AND when everything is out of the way and two people can have a blossoming relationship in which they both grow emotionally and look towards the future and be part of each other's lives, only then will the flowers bloom.

It is like a garden which was intended to grow a bed of roses. Along the way, weeds grew and the roses never stopped having thorns which pricked flesh and made it bleed. Hence the roses were constantly trampled on or doused with poisonous insecticides and too much of it would cause the garden to merely die. But by understanding that roses must have thorns and that weeds can be gotten rid of by merely plucking them away when they grow, the roses could see the sunlight and be healthy.

Ok I don't know what made me use the analogy of 'A Bed Of Roses' but I did - so stop laughing.

Specifically referring to my relationship with The Boyfriend, the garden with the bed of roses was his dream, his fantasy and his expectation. He thought that a relationship was easy and as long as we loved each other and were fully committed then nothing would go wrong.

Little did he expect that my past would return to haunt him - in reference to the thorns. It got so bad to a point that I could say no more. Besides, I'm not very good at comforting people (according to him it's because I'm the First Child and I'm spoilt, therefore never had to comfort people; I'm bossy, I'm stubborn, that's why I just order him to forget about it and move on; and I can't help but to agree. I really don't know how to comfort him for even he knows it comes within himself.)

The weeds were created by The Boyfriend, signifying ex-crushes or girls who were interested in him. He got rid of all of them one day, which some how made it worse because they came back and demanded why he got rid of them.

But now all is well because roses will always have thorns just like how my past will always be part of me. Weeds will always be there because some people will never be automatic enough to know when they're not needed or wanted in someone else's life. But the roses still grow and everyone is happy.

And therefore, I have come to appreciate The Boyfriend alot more for who he is, especially when it comes to the following:

His V-lines
His willingness to buff up when I suggested that he do so, and now his pecs are wonderfully cushiony
His metrosexuality which involves many things including: Buying hundreds of dollars worth of facial products for me and using them as well, going for facials and massages with me, loving to have his eyebrows plucked/shaved and knowing how to wax
His philosophy of "My Money, Your Money. Your Money, is still Your Money." And elaborates by paying for almost everything.
He believes that watching porn is like cheating on his girlfriend and hence, does not watch porn (or tries not to).
Aunties think he's cute
We love the same kinds of food
He believes that some girls are indeed interested in him and is ever-so-willing to cut them out of his life.
He can use his charm and make me laugh when I'm super grouchy (which doesn't happen often but when it does it's a huge bomb).
My animals adore him
He's good with kids
He can take my daily complaints and even make it seem like a joke
He can sing and therefore, serenade me
He's like the perfect Prince Charming (sensitive, romantic, understanding, good-looking, able to carry heavy shopping bags) except that he has a HUGE ego, but I can withstand that.

WEE quite happy with that.

Tongues always pressed to your cheeks,
While my tongue is on the inside of some other girls teeth,
Tell your boyfriend if he says hes got beef,
That I'm a vegetarian and I ain't fucking scared of him.

She wants to touch me wa hoo
She wants to love me wa hoo,
She'll never leave me wa hoo hoo hoo
Don't trust a ho,
Never trust a ho,
Won't trust a ho,
Cuz the ho wont trust me

2009-05-14T12:02:00.002+08:00

I know I haven't been blogging for a long time.

Been really busy (or lazy) at times, and Beerfest did take up 5 days of my time where I worked super long hours with minimum sleep. 7am - 12nn was my regular sleeping time then.

Glad that's over, and then I gotta spend time with The Boyfriend. Since Beerfest coincided with his return from Taiwan, I already didn't get to spend time with him and he was on leave!

So I had to make up for lost time.

And then, I got really sick. I won't bother to elaborate on my illness, but those closer to me would know. It is really really scary and since February I have been battling with the viruses and bacteria. I wouldn't put details here and nobody would wanna know.

Anyhow, I will have to go for followups in half a years' time. I am hoping it is not cancer, although there is a high possibility. The pain and discomfort that I went through during the last checkup really scared me half to death and I walked out of the clinic with my legs weak and feeling like jelly.

I am still sick, because The Boyfriend got sick with flu and fever and cough, so he spread the viruses to me. But I adamantly would not allow it to blow up into a full blown flu, so I've been actively swallowing Panadols and antibiotics, together with the ton of medicine the doctors have been giving me.

Recently, I've been taking public transport and I realise that I cannot take it. I don't know if it is because I am sick, but I get woozy and dizzy when I take the bus. I know it is bus sickness but it has never been so bad before. Then I feel like vomiting. Then I feel faint.

Everyday I get 8 or 9 hours of sleep, but still I wake up with my head feeling like a ten-ton weight is on it, I wake up with aches everywhere all over my body and I am dizzy all day long. And everyday I am very tired all the time.

AND I have been getting many bouts of bronchitis attacks. I often have trouble breathing and a slight cough or sneeze would trigger off asthma. It is really bad but the good news out of all these illnesses is that I have finally quit smoking! I hope I will not have a relapse though.

And that is why I have not been blogging for so long. Maybe I am trying to find excuses but honestly, I no longer have the mood to blog.

The Boyfriend's birthday is coming and he has requested for a homecooked meal. Obviously, I am not exactly friends with the kitchen and if I could I wouldn't step in. I don't mind cooking a meal for him but it's not exactly easy when there is no place that we can eat in. It is not as if we have our own place where everything is convenient.

AND I suck at planning birthdays. So I shall try my best. Stress is mounting on my already weak body and delicate mind that often has headaches.

2009-04-17T00:28:00.003+08:00

Today I received a pleasant - no, more than pleasant - I must say it was a fantastic surprise from The Boyfriend.

Just when I was beginning to feel quite insecure. I was beginning to have doubts - why is he always going to the lan shop on some street in Kaoh Siung and sending me messages on Facebook? I mean, yeah, his messages and texts are nothing less than sweet words of a uber doting boyfriend, but still, did SAF spend so much money to send a bunch of naval divers to Taiwan for 18 bloody days when all these FREE TIME can be cut short to like, 10 days or less, if you minus the weekends that they're free to go clubbing and shopping, and all the afternoons and evenings that they're so damn free, SO THAT these precious naval divers can come back home to Singapore and be with the people they love??!

Ah so anyway.

I was beginning to feel really insecure. I have never been that insecure in this relationship before. Not even when The Boyfriend had a pesky 'old-time friend' whom he was once interested in, who kept contacting him for dubious reasons and even scolded him for deleting her off Facebook.

And she even had the cheek to blame ME for making him delete his friends off Facebook, when I had totally, absolutely no clue that he had gone and deleted at least half of his friends! Both male and female, because he said that Facebook is becoming too public and he does not want half the world to see what's going on in his life and become a gossip point for people.

Luckily, The Boyfriend and I have agreed that we would share everything with each other, even things that would hurt us, because we want to have an open relationship. And I wasn't even the one who initiated that pact. I agreed with him because I no longer wanted to hide anything from someone who loves me this much.

And I got to know about all this rendezvous when he showed me the incriminating evidence of his text messages with her. And when I saw her replies...I was boiling. She had not only tried to place the blame on me ("Is it because of your gf? Everything also for your gf! Nothing but your gf!") until The Boyfriend said that I knew nothing about his actions; she had also tried to act all coy and cute at the end of it all ("I really can't bring myself to be angry at you for long. Rar.")

When I read those messages I was boiling, and it seemed like a dark cloud had formed over my head, and boy did I fume. I never wanted to show it because I wanted to seem like, "Ok, fine, whatever. You deal with her yourself," but inside, I felt like every part of me was being eaten up.

A few weeks later, she texted him again. "Hello stranger. How are you?"

A seemingly innocent message, but ask any girl, and she would have immediately caught on to the innuendos lurking beneath. Once again, The Boyfriend did not reply to her text, but instead showed the text to me. Once again, the dark cloud formed over my head. This time, there was not only thunder but lightning as well.

I said to him, "You yourself judge this text for yourself. You tell me that you know she's still interested in you despite both of you being attached. And I, as your girlfriend, cannot stand this shithead anymore. I know you will never be interested in her again. And I know you are trying your best to stay away from her. But I cannot stand the fact that she blatantly tries to keep in contact with you despite not trying many years ago when she became attached and threw you aside like an old rag. We both know what she's trying to do ok."

The thing is, The Boyfriend was indeed interested in her at the same time, or even earlier than when he was interested in me. But they had only gone out on one date, and the rest is history, because he started asking me out more frequently.

So anyway, we disposed of that problem immediately (she still had the cheek to bring up stuff like "Remember when you said you wanted to go jogging with me? When we went out on Christmas Eve?" I mean hello, obviously he said those things because he was trying to court her, but now that he's attached shouldn't she have the decency to respect him and his relationship, if not his girlfriend, and stop trying to be a blatant flirt?) and life went on.

Even that episode didn't make me as insecure as I felt yesterday. I constantly felt like he was going to the lan shop too much- possible liaison with a pretty taiwanese babe? Although yeah he did say that he would log on to Facebook and send me messages and look at my pictures and videos, but it only takes at most 10 minutes to send me a message, then he can waltz down the street with some chick!

Yeah that's called thinking too much.

But every girl will know that the slightest thing matters when they are insecure. And even I scare myself. I used to think that insecurities of other people are very insignificant, and when I decided to be with The Boyfriend, I realised that I hardly ever felt insecure with him. I had become one of the most secure persons around. Despite being uber insecure in the past, I have realised that it is your partner who has most responsibility to see to your security. Of course, it takes two hands to clap. But hell, if a man can't succeed in making you feel secure, it ain't really a relationship.

Therefore, I scared myself with my insecurities yesterday. I tried to ignore them, to push them away like I do for all negative thoughts and emotions. But I couldn't, and nothing he said would make me feel better. Deep down inside, I knew he was not doing anything behind my back. He couldn't even bring himself to. That is how confident I am of him and our relationship.

But yet, I would read too much into everything he said, or didn't say.

And it was only the 5th day.

He said he has a surprise for me. His text read, "Go to the cupboard where I put my clothes. You will find a thumbdrive. Your surprise is in the thumbdrive."

Excited, I opened the cupboard and felt on the uppermost rack. I felt it immediately, that small, capsule-like thing.

I quickly inserted it into my laptop which was faithfully on standby (office email). There was only one folder in the thumbdrive. It read "For Maxine".

Obviously, I clicked on it. And I saw not one, but FOUR videos. And a smile crept onto my face.

In case those perverted minds are wandering and wondering if The Boyfriend is yet another Edison Chen or Gary Ng, please halt.

The videos were of him, no doubt, with some clips of me, of course, but he was on my screen, larger than life, fully-clothed and talking to me. It had been days since I've heard his voice, seen his smile... and I'm very used to the way he talks, his expressions, so much so that I've taken them for granted, and didn't know how much I really missed him until I saw him on that first video clip.

It was him sitting on his bed. Fully-clothed, I reiterate. It was him, acting like an MTV VJ, talking to me like I'm right there in front of him, showing me things like little notes I had written to him, movie ticket stubs which he had collected, saying, "Contrary to your belief, I actually kept all your little notes and almost all the ticket stubs."

I saw the sarcasm even before it came and that made me smile even more.

My silly sister broke my reverie in the 2nd or 3rd video clip by bursting into my room and saying, "Why are you smiling to yourself?!?"

He even said, "And I'm a video guy, and that's why I take so many videos of you -- (stop being perverts everyone) -- not wanting to take videos..."

Cut to him trying to take a video of me walking Orchard Road with me screaming, "Can you stop it? Can you stop it! Don't take me!"

Yeah sounds very perverted.

"...Videos of you eating at Outback (Steakhouse)," he continues. Cut to me eating a juicy steak and smiling at the camera while he delivers a light punch to my face and I laugh. Different video from the one on Facebook, at Starbucks when he punches my face in front of Forde and Pamela.

"...Videos of you vacuuming your own car..." Cut to me vacuuming my car with his portable vacuum cleaner, wearing a hat with a feather in it and asking him, "What are you doing?" I remember thinking that night I was vacuuming, "I wish we didn't have to waste time vacuuming my car when we can spend the time together,"

The second video clip was of him after he had sent me home. I bet some of you are thinking, "What the hell, you drive but he sends you home?!" Don't worry, even my own parents think we are ridiculous. But hello, shouldn't the older generation respect chivalry more? Sometimes I really think my family is slightly dysfunctional.

So anyway. The second video clip was late at night, after I was safely tucked in bed, he was filming himself on camera. After we had watched Detroit Metal City with Forde, Pamela and Jason.

The third video clip was of him buying ice-cream for us! All the Ben & Jerry's. His hair sucks in this video but I seriously don't care. I am still grinning from ear to ear. On this day that he was filming, I was on my way to his place.

In the last video, he was topless (woo!). He had just sent me to an event and had gone home to nap, before coming to pick me up again later. He says, "You are probably watching this video while I'm in Taiwan, and I just wanna assure you that --" he pauses, and I hold my breath.

"I won't die ok," he finishes, and rolls his eyes.

Before he left, I was going on and on about him dying while under water. "What if your oxygen tank runs out of oxygen?! What if you get poisoned by a stone fish which you thought was a bomb and happily picked it up to defuse it? What if there's sharks? What if you get hypothermia or pneumonia due to the freezing waters? What if you eat Taiwan food and get food poisoning??!"

Obviously he just laughed it off. Now, even when he's in Taiwan, he is reminding me of how pessimistic I am and how he loves to laugh at me.

"I'll be fine there. It is very safe, so you don't have to worry," he continues. I pause the video and just as I expected, there he was, smirking at me with that you-must-be-insane-to-worry-so-much look! I felt like he was right there with me, chiding me and smirking at me and laughing at me and I just felt like wiping that stupid look off his face.

But then all I did was to laugh back at him. Back at his frozen face, with the frozen smirk. I was too happy that I could even feel his presence. The video subsided with me and Pam holding guns, shooting at House Of The Dead 2, and my mouth forming the words "Go away lah!!!!" because The Boyfriend was blocking my view and blocking the sensor for my gun to shoot the corpses.

I wish I hadn't shouted at him like that, even if it were in jest.

And it cuts to him walking to pick me up from my place. The camera focuses on me. I obviously see him from afar and walk towards him. And then I smile at him.

As a former media student, I must say his work is very homemade, with his specialty in jump cuts. But despite the lack of expertise in lighting and sound, and even editing, the director had clearly portrayed what the video clips were meant to say.

It was not that he missed me while in Taiwan. It was not even to assure me that he still cares for me and to fill my lonely gap while he is away. It is not that he wants me to know that he won't die, or whatever. It is not that he wants to show me how capable he is of planning and executing romantic surprises. It is all of the above, yet it isn't all of the above.

He meant to portray how he sees me from his eyes and his heart. The camera is like a pair of eyes, conveying to the audience the director's viewpoint.

And I swoon over the clips so much not only because I am able to feel him again, or that I am gloating over my sweet Boyfriend who has gone to the expense of making four video clips to surprise me...but because I am able to cherish him so much more, knowing that those clips are shallowly meant for me to see him because he knows I will miss him, but then, why would he put snippets of ME in the clips? Why the hell would I want to see ME for?

I finally understand that he has filmed me in the most unexpected circumstances, when I am caught by surprise, or happiness, and that is how he remembers me by when he is away. He sees me as that all the time. I never really believed him whenever he says he is thinking of me all the time or that he misses me. I mean, we spend ALL our time together, days merging into nights and turning into days again. But now I do.

By this, I truly understand now. Because I am able to see and understand, I am able to cherish him so much more.

And because I am able to cherish him more than ever, my insecurities are all gone. I am back to who I was before the insecurity plague hit me. Waiting now. Just waiting...

2009-04-13T12:55:00.002+08:00

Here I go again - exclaiming about how long it has been since I've blogged. I must admit it really has been eons, but now that The Boyfriend has taken yet another trip to Taiwan, specifically Kaoh Siung, for 18 days, I have loads of spare time to become a cyber buddy once again.

In my home there is a lack of food. Every afternoon when I wake up, I can find nothing to eat. By 'nothing', I mean that I am sick of the same old junk food residing in my larder, such as - instant noodles, bread loaves which I toast with cheese, or frozen pizzas.

Monday - toasted bread with cheese
Tuesday - instant noodles
Wednesday - frozen pizza
Thursday - toasted bread with cheese
Friday - toasted bread with cheese

Saturdays and Sundays are an exception because my parents buy food back.

So it has gotten to a point where I absolutely don't eat until dinnertime, or wait for The Boyfriend to buy lunch or eat lunch with me when he's on leave. Pathetic.

One day, I was so sick of toasted bread and cheese, but I was starving. I had to eat something or I knew I would faint or get some gastric problem. So, I found a loaf of wholemeal bread in the kitchen, took out two slices of bread and slapped on a slice of cheese on each of them. I was so hungry that I didn't even take a plate out; I merely held the bread in my hands and proceeded to eat.

Then I went to lounge in the living room with my sister who was watching television. The bread tasted so good, for some reason. It was crunchy and especially tasty. I had finished one slice of bread already, when I happened to look at the other slice in my hand.

To my horror, I saw mould growing on it! There was green mould, black mould and white mould!

I screamed, "Oh my god the bread has mould on it and I ate one fucking slice already!!!"

My sister looked at me and said, "Gross,"

I ran to the kitchen and tried to vomit but I couldn't. I rinsed out my mouth several times and even with Listerine, but I guess even if I had swallowed Listerine, it wouldn't have made any difference.

Oh well. Needless to say, my appetite was gone. Then, a few days later, I was at Timbre overseeing an event.

It was the first birthday of a baby boy, and his parents had spent close to $3000 on his 1st year party.

My nail had broke a few days ago, and the wound was deep, so I had a plaster around my finger. I was happily sipping on my iced lemon tea in between intervals of appeasing my client, as it was raining and the food was served a tad too slowly.

As the function came to an end, my iced lemon tea was finishing too. I had always felt that the straw had some kind of problem and therefore I could not suck the drink properly, but I dismissed it to the back of my mind time and again as there were many other things to do and not being able to drink my iced tea was too small a problem to invade my mind.

So I happened to look in my glass, and to my fright, I saw a plaster at the bottom of the glass, stuck to the opening of my straw!!

I gagged immediately, and the bartender asked me what was wrong. I handed him the glass rather shakily, and all he did was to throw the offending liquid with the plaster into the bin. "Aiya, it's only a plaster...too bad you drank it," he said.

So much for comfort...

Even while blogging this, I have not eaten (as there's no food at home remember) but yet I feel like vomiting. Utterly gross to no end.

But as they say, bacteria is good for the body. In olden days, people who were poor ate mouldy bread and they didn't die.

2009-03-17T16:02:00.002+08:00

The adventures of The Boyfriend and I continue... ...

One fine day, we were merely going to have dinner at Suntec City. I had a pretty rough day at work. One of my events resulted in a sous chef getting fired - although I clearly know it wasn't my fault, but I still felt incredibly guilty because I was the catalyst.

The relationship between me and this particular sous chef has never been good from the start. There was a time last year, when he shouted at me in front of his entire kitchen and wait staff because he could not control his temper, because he was being extremely difficult and uncooperative. I know he has a point when he says last minute functions are very rushed, but neither do I like last minute functions. I have no choice but to take up the function (thanks to idiots who plan their functions one day in advance) because it is my job.

And it is his job to prepare the food.

So last year when he blew up at me, immediately I was 'protected' by someone else, who then asked him what his problem was, and we had a sit-down meeting which we agreed that I would give him two days grace before every function.

Everything was amicable, until recently, when I received a function enquiry on Tuesday morning, for Wednesday evening. That gave me only 12 hours to settle and confirm everything with the client.

By 3pm on Tuesday afternoon, I had given heads up to the head chef, who said it was ok, there was ample time to prepare the food.

By 7pm on Tuesday evening, I had sent out my event memo to all operation managers, and even texted the head chef, operation managers and out of respect, I also texted the sous chef. (By right, I have no need to inform him - I just need to disseminate info to the head chef who will pass information down to the sous chef of each outlet.)

Everyone said "ok", and I assumed everything was going well, no problems. The sous chef then texted me back saying, "Why is it so last minute? I thought we agreed that you give me two days grace?"

To which I replied, "I only received the enquiry this morning. And didn't (insert head chef's name here) inform you when I told him this afternoon?"

He didn't reply.

The next day, the day of the function, I was at a press conference to launch one of our largest events, just to help out. I had rushed back to one of the timbre outlets to collect my car (as I did not want to park at the Singapore Flyer for the press conference because it was too expensive), and on my way to the function, I ran into the head chef.

I asked, "Is everything for the function tonight ok?"

Head chef said, "Yeah, okay ah, why?"

And I said, "Then why is (insert sous chef's name here) asking me why the function is last minute?"

I mean, clearly, I was bewildered. If time and again the head chef has no problem with preparing the food, why would the sous chef be so nervous and anxious about it?

Unexpectedly, the head chef suddenly blew up, "Who the FUCK is he to ask you if the function is last minute? He should ask ME! Why is he going direct to you? Never mind, you go to the function now, meet your client first, I will talk to him!"

This outburst occured in front of all the kitchen boys at that particular outlet. I merely, meekly, drove away.

Arriving at the other outlet, I decided to avoid the sous chef. I would hate to have some sort of confrontation with him again. Obviously, I just wanted things at work to be peaceful and amicable, and I just wanted to get my job done and every function running smoothly.

And besides it's really not my fault what. It's not as if I got the function enquiry one week before, forgot about it and sent out the event memo only one day before the event. Duh.

So I was waiting for my client to arrive, when the sous chef came stalking out of the outlet and said, "Thanks ah," very sarcastically.

I went up to him and said tiredly (or I hoped sounded tired, not confrontational), "What's the problem now?"

And the operations manager shooed me away. He said, "You leave him alone first..."

So I left him alone, turning away from him yet feeling his eyes boring into my back like daggers. Or maybe I was just imagining it, but that's how comfortable I felt.

After my function, which went well, I ran into the head chef at the outlet's kitchen. At the same time, I saw the operations manager taking a bag and handing it to the sous chef.

Shit, I thought, please do not tell me he has been fired.

And I felt even worse than before. I know I was probably right because I tend to be psychic, in those ways when I think about someone and that person calls...

And The Boyfriend was present, so I brought him to say hi to the head chef, because both of them keep talking about each other to me, saying how much they remember each other (since he was my client and they had some food tasting for their event and I introduced the head chef to them).

Apparently what had happened was this:

3pm, Tuesday - Head chef received call from me, saying there'd be a function the next day. He calls sous chef to give him the heads up. Sous chef says ok, no questions asked.

7pm, Tuesday - Head chef receives event memo from me, replies my text saying ok, calls sous chef to inform him of food to prepare. Sous chef says ok, no questions asked.

6pm, Wednesday - Head chef runs into me, realises sous chef asked me why the function was last minute, calls sous chef and asks why he asks me what he asked me. Sous chef blows up at head chef and starts shouting at head chef over the phone. Head chef calls sous chef a 'dickhead' and shouts back at sous chef and says, "You don't talk so much I will come down now and talk to you,"

6:20pm, Wednesday - I am at the outlet waiting for my client.

6:45pm, Wednesday - Sous chef stalks out and says "Thanks ah" to me sarcastically.

8pm, Wednesday - I am talking to head chef, who says, "Firstly, why must he shout at me? I am his superior! Secondly, he's trying to surpass me by asking you questions that he should ask me. Thirdly, he thinks I'm a wood ah, shout at me and I won't shout back? And he said, 'So you think I'm hard up for this job? I can find a job anywhere! So now you want to sack me lah!' To which the head chef said, "Yah now I'm going to SACK you!"

And this happened in front of two outlets' worth of kitchen boys. First with the phonecall and next with the shoutfest.

Oh I feel so guilty.

Although yeah he was mean to me and everything but still. WHY do I take it upon myself!?

So that was that, and after that, The Boyfriend and I went to Suntec City's Kenny Roger's to fill our hungry stomachs, though I had completely lost my appetite by then.

After dinner we decided to head for desserts, and passed by this stall that was selling Hello Kitty ez-link card stickers. I stopped to ooh and aah for awhile, and asked The Boyfriend which sticker I should buy.

The salesperson was watching some Korean/Japanese/Hong Kong movie on her laptop. She was completely unhelpful.

I hope you hang yourself with your H&M scarf
While jacking off listening to Mozart
You bitch and moan about L.A.
You need SPF45
Just to stay alive

I said, "Which one should I buy?" to The Boyfriend, and he said, "Maybe you should buy Hello Doraemon...or Hello Rabbit!" (referring to My Melody).

"Can you be serious! This is a serious important decision you know!" I whined.

"Buy this one lor," the Boyfriend said, pointing to a sticker that made Hello Kitty look fat and enlarged.

"Eeee, this Hello Kitty so fat!" I said. "I think I will buy this - " and plucked one sticker of Hello Kitty and her pet (the rabbit) out from the board.

We were there for about 5minutes, tops, and suddenly, the saleswoman, a fat, long-haired, unpretty woman, gave me a super dulan face and went "TSK!" super loudly, crossing her arms.

She then proceeded to diao The Boyfriend.

You're so sad maybe you should buy a happy meal
You're so skinny you should really super size the deal

I whispered loudly to The Boyfriend saying, "Er...why is she so pek cek??!"

And the Boyfriend said, "Think we don't buy lah,"

I said, "Yah lor, wah she's so rude! Then you help me put back the sticker can?" and I gave the sticker to The Boyfriend. Obviously the saleswoman could hear our conversation because she was just standing next to us.

AND THEN, the fat, long-haired and unpretty saleswoman snatched the sticker out of The Boyfriend's hands! And piak the sticker back onto the board!

"Oh my god! What is wrong with her?" I said, before scuttling off into Bakerzinn.

"She just had a bad day maybe?" The Boyfriend said.

"Wah I never met such a rude saleswoman before you know!" In case anybody wants to know, her stall is outside Bakerzinn, the middle stall (there are 3 stalls there) at Suntec City.

She was so rude until she was scary. That I didn't even dare to scold her because she's bigger-sized than me. And of course The Boyfriend won't scold people because he's too nice.

He went off the get the waiter while I remained trembling in my seat.

And when he came back, he produced the Hello Kitty sticker that I wanted to buy and said, "SURPRISE!"

I gaped in surprise at the surprise. "WHAT?! YOU WENT BACK TO BUY FROM HER???!" I screeched.

"Yeah...just wanted to make her happy lor, cuz she had a bad day mah..." he said.

"Pui lor! People like her just are bad-tempered because they don't have a boyfriend who buys Hello Kitty stuff with their girlfriend like YOU, somemore so shuai, so she's just reminded that she got dumped by her ex-boyfriend and suddenly became very bitter about it," I said rather snidely.

"No lah...but she snatched the money out of my hand and said, 'You sure you want this ah?!'" The Boyfriend said quietly.

"WAH LAO!! So rude! You hao xin wanna make her happy, then she treat you like shit!" I exclaimed. "Orh I know why she's like that...because I pointed to the Hello Kitty sticker and said "Eeee this one so FAT!" and she thought I was talking about her!"

"No lah...but she did return me my change with two hands," The Boyfriend said. "Aiyah, just make her happy lor..."

"This kind of person won't be happy one lor," I muttered under my breath. Don't know if he heard.

You walking around like you're oh so debonair
You pull them down and there's really nothing there

After our wonderful dessert, I wanted to go buy those small Hello Kitty thingies that come in a capsule machine...which required us walking past her stall again. I tried to walk as fast as I could past her because she's too goddamned scary. And then we had to walk past her again to go to the carpark for our car.

She was busy packing up her stall and chatting somewhat happily on the phone.

"Eh you see! She's like so happy talking on the phone lor!" I pointed out.

"Yah lah, cuz she's now happy that I bought the sticker from her mah," The Boyfriend said.

I merely shuddered.

So yeah the scary woman at Suntec City became one of our worst nightmares and adventures.

You're so gay and you don't even like boys
No you don't even like, no you don't even like, no you don't even like boys
You're so gay and you don't even like boys

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
La, la, la
La, la, la
Oh, oh, oh
Do, do, do, do, bop, bop, bow
Do, do, do, bop, bop
You're so gay, you're so gay

2009-03-05T01:09:00.003+08:00

One night, one cold windy night, I was out about town, with The Boyfriend, trying to find a food court where we can eat, because we've always been eating at restaurants and getting kinda sick of it. And yeah, he wants to save money for holidays and all. And I was craving for some greasy food court fish and chips.

It was the 16th of February, a Monday evening.

We were at Plaza Singapura. Unfortunately, our plans to save money were thwarted. I suppose even the gods didn't allow us to eat some cheap and good local food. Because the food court was closed or under renovation or something. We wandered around the place, our stomachs growling.

We passed The Manhatten Fish Market, perfect place to satisfy my craving, but the queue was long as always. "Since you wanna eat fish, why don't we eat here?" The Boyfriend said.

"But the queue is so lonnnnggggg....by the time we get in I'd have died and rotted," I whined. My hungry stomach was making me damn cranky.

Next to Manhattan's was this Jap restaurant whose name I can't remember, although I have ate there before and I remember vaguely that their service sucks. "AH! Why don't we eat Japanese? Mmmm sashimi!" said The Boyfriend excitedly.

"But I don't feel like eating japanese..." I pouted and crossed my arms rather huffily. "I want my fish...!"

We pondered for like, three minutes outside the two restaurants and I said, "Why don't we eat at Secret Receipe?" I said pointing into the not-so-far-off distance.

"No," The Boyfriend said.

"Cafe Cartel?" I asked. Anything to stop this hunger pleaaaaassseee....

Thankfully, he said, "Ok!" rather happily, so we trooped down to Cafe Cartel where I satisfied my fish craving and he had his ribs.

And then, we just had to have our coffee. My previous addiction has returned, especially since he is an addict too. We had coffee at Starbucks, and dessert. We simply are just dessert people. Which I love.

And then, just when we were happily having our coffee and chocolate lava cake, my dad had to call. He asked me to fetch him, which I was gravely reluctant. I mean, we were happily poring through the Valentine's Day present which I gave him a few days ago. Plus he had to go back to the miserable camp later, so time was precious.

But I decided to be filial. Of course, The Boyfriend got jitters when he realised he was about to unofficially meet my dad. In the end, I had to send my DAD and his FRIEND home. His friend stays in Bedok Reservoir, which isn't freaking near nor far, but I was just pissed because I am always sending his friend home.

WHEN I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING. LIKE DATING MY BOYFRIEND, FOR EXAMPLE. OR GOING OUT WITH FRIENDS.

And by the time the chauffeur finished her rounds, it was time for The Boyfriend to book into camp. I spent one hour driving around, and another 45 minutes driving to Sembawang. We wasted 2 precious hours which could have been spent talking about anything under the sun!

And my butt was aching from all that sitting and driving.

It was already 11.30pm, but The Boyfriend wanted to watch Indebted, which I had brought along to show him, and the MTV that Alex, Rachel, Eve and I did during the poly days. He has always been interested in media and intends to pursue it, unlike me.

By 11:50pm, I was ready to drive (again) to his camp to plonk him outside those gates - and see if I can catch any suave looking soldiers on the way - but he asked me a question, "How do you feel about spending the rest of your life with one guy from now on?"

"Er..." I said.

And he said something like, "Don't you feel afraid because you will be with me for many years to come?"

I shall fast forward our conversation and not put all the inside bits out here for all and sundry to see, but we ended up at this place, that all lovebirds who make out at the Sembawang carpark do not know of. It is a little clearing, by the main road, but shaded by big trees. It is relatively lit because of the streetlamps and the road.

We found it by accident.

We ended up there because we realised we were the only couple not making out in the carpark and we thought we were invading their privacy. And besides, we wanted a place we could talk (and when we talk we really talk) without the occasional police car peering into our car when we're not even guilty of anything.

And we fell asleep!

Needless to say, it was one of those nights where he didn't book into camp (again). And his officer is so cute, I'm sure he'll be let off the hook because cute people are relatively nicer than ugly people.

I remember I was extremely exhausted. I didn't have much sleep the previous night, plus all the heartfelt talking was making me even more tired because I was consuming too much brain power to say what I really feel. Although it's supposed to come from the heart, but the heart can't put into words what feelings are.

So anyway. I was so tired that although my sleep was interrupted by the many mosquitoes that kept attacking me, I couldn't wake up. I was just conscious enough to swat away the mosquito and scratch vigorously at the bites before I fell asleep again.

Needless to say The Boyfriend is perpetually always more tired than I am.

I remembered that I had switched off the engine, which explained why the doors were open and the mosquitoes were flying in.

When we awoke two hours later, it was about 3-ish.

AND MY CAR BATTERY WAS DEAD.

Like, how is that even freaking possible?? It should be fully charged after my 2 hour drive around Singapore, and it was turned off the whole time. Charging the radio wouldn't take up ALL its power for 2 hours!

And I know this because I know.

So now, we're stuck in a godforsaken ulu place, where we had to drive about 2 kilometres in from the ulu-but-still-better-than-this-place Sembawang Park carpark.

"AAAARRRRGGGHHH!!! My battery is dead!!!! How???" I almost shrieked to The Boyfriend, who was still bleary from a deep sleep.

I try to start the engine many times but of course, it is dead.

My mind is furiously running by now, charged by the minimal nap I had.

Option 1) Find a car to jump start the battery. To do so, gotta walk down to the main road to find a car/cab.

Option 2) Call my father at 3:45am in the morning and brave a firing squad of questions such as, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN SEMBAWANG AT THIS TIME?" and "HOW TO GET THERE?" (which I don't know how to tell him because it's so freaking ulu)

Option 3) Wait until daybreak then call a mechanic.

Obviously, Option 2 was OUT OF THE QUESTION. Option 3 too, because that would mean The Boyfriend would be screwed. Obviously he wasn't going to leave me with my dead car. All he said was, "Don't worry about me,"

Too scared to be touched, I merely walked round to the boot and flipped it open to find the cables for the battery, the jumpstart cables. After searching around for 1 minute, I suddenly many pricks on my foot and up my leg, not painful at first; and I merely brushed them angrily away.

But as I continued standing there searching for the cables, the pricks never stopped, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I was allergic to grass. I remember thinking, "So this is what it feels like to be allergic to grass,"

However, the pricks began to become unbearable, as there were more and more of them, and they never stopped. Finally, I looked down and shined the light from my handphone onto my foot, and saw dozens of ants crawling all over my leg, light and weightless, until they bit me.

I immediately hopped off the grass and began yelling, "ARRRRGGHH!!!! Ants!!!!!!!!!!! Save me Daniel!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Very painfulllllllll............AND I CAN"T FUCKING SEE THEM BUT THEY"RE STILL FUCKING BITING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I think I was about to lose it. Standing there, on the pavement, I began frantically swiping the irritating ants off my legs, but they were everywhere! And I was bitten until my legs were numb, either from the slapping from my hands or from the numerous ant bites.

The Poor Boyfriend helped me swipe them away, as I continually screamed my lungs out. I remember him just silently sweeping them away, and telling me to relax. "Fucking ants!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I screamed.

Then, I shined the light from my phone onto the ground, and horrors of horrors, there was a LONG line of ants marching from the spot where I just stood, to the spot that I was standing at now! And marching around my feet, or across it, and biting me in the process, to god knows where.

I screamed again, more in frustration than fear, and ran off a few metres away, leaving The Poor Boyfriend searching for the cables in my car boot.

He didn't get bitten by ants because 1) He was wearing pants and covered shoes and 2) Since he knew where the ants were (since I was bitten first), he obviously didn't step near them.

So I was the sacrifice, the blood which the ants sucked.

(By the way I forced my mother to dig out my baby files to find out what's my blood type, so I wouldn't be clueless all my life, and I found out I'm A positive blood type!)

We decided to abandon the car and go and look for a car/cab. In order to do this, we were NOT going to walk the 2km out the winding roads which were darker than where we were, so we had to...

BASH THROUGH SOME TREES AND GRASS, DOWN A SLOPE, TO GET TO THE MAIN ROAD.

I was, by this time, reeling from the ants bites that I never wanted to step on grass ever again, but apparently it wasn't my fate.

I couldn't think of any way to get out of the situation - although asking My Poor Boyfriend to carry me down the slope was one idea but I quickly diminished that because he was already quite poor thing enough, and besides it was my car, I should find a solution - so I had to bash through the freaking grass which was freaking disgusting.

Normally I already hate walking through grass because I'm afraid I will step on some frog or snail or worse still, snake!

And now I had to be scared of ants' nests.

I didn't even whine. I do not think My Poor Boyfriend deserved that.

Anyway, after we reached the road, we still had to walk. There was NOT A CAR IN SIGHT! We were like, trapped in some warped timezone whereby nothing existed except both of us.

And I had happily thought that, after escaping the ant-infested ulu place, we would reach civilisation, which would mean people, or cars, but apparently no! We had stepped out of an ulu place, into an ulu place, which would mean we never really stepped out at all because in the first place, Sembawang IS an ulu place.

Of all the places for my car battery to die.

We walked for 45 minutes. I do not know how many kilometres that is, but it is ALOT of distance we covered. Road after road. The road signs went past, but still no car. And then, we saw a van! It was delivering newspapers. We hitched a ride, in the back of the van; we sat on top of newspapers that would probably be on somebody's breakfast table in a few hours.

The van dropped us off somewhere, but there still was no cab, so we continued walking. Like tired, thirsty hitch-hikers.

Finally, we reached semi-civilisation, whereby there were some cabs passing by. We flagged down many cabs and asked them if they had the cable to jump start the battery, but apparently they all do not.

In the end, we were so desperate for someone to save us, that we took the fifth cab that we flagged. "What, you mean you guys walked all this way? It's damn long you know!" The Indian cab driver said.

"Er..yeah..we know, but we had no choice," I muttered.

We reached our dead car, and My Poor Boyfriend tried looking for the cables again. Because I swore they were in there somewhere. It was rather difficult searching under almost no light, but I was NOT going to stand on the stupid grass and get bitten by nasty ants again to shine the light from my phone while he searched.

In the end he found the cable!

So, we attached the cables (positive to positive) to my dead battery and the cab's battery.

I tried to switch on my engine.

NOTHING FREAKING HAPPENED.

No sparks flew, NOTHING.

The cab uncle was rather helpful and nice, although he didn't know anything about jumpstarting a battery. In the end, after many many tries of him switching on and off his engine and me switching on and off my engine, we gave up.

He gave us the number to Comfort Delgro's 24-hr mechanic, and we called them. I paid the uncle $22 bucks for his time and he sent us to the not-so-ulu Sembawang carpark to wait for the mechanic.

Who came in 10 minutes instead of the half an hour the operator said, and we sat in his van. The Boyfriend actually nudged me away to go into the van first, which I thought was very unlike him, since he's always the one opening cab doors and ushering me into cabs (when I'm not driving).

Then I realised he didn't want me to sit next to the mechanic.

Which made me smile to myself. Then I immediately thought that yes, I AM losing it. Imagine noticing such a thing in such a time of distress!

The mechanic took out many devices, and attached them to my battery quickly (he stepped on the grass too but HE didn't get bitten by ants!). The devices can print out reports like a cashier machine, which is like freaking cool and I so wanna get one.

And my battery was healed!! It was revived.

And My Poor Boyfriend paid the mechanic $35 bucks cuz I had no more money.

The mechanic said my battery is very weak so I should not stop on the way home. Then I said, "Har, then traffic light how? ... I thought cannot switch off the engine only what,"

And the mechanic said, "Yah lah, cannot switch off the engine. Then tomorrow morning, you bring your car to your own mechanic to replace the battery or something,"

We drove away, leaving the mechanic with the ants. However, to our horror, there was a freaking mosquito in my car!!! And it's horrendously BIG and kept flying around and hiding in corners then suddenly appearing again.

The Boyfriend wanted to send me home and THEN take a cab back which I adamantly refused, because I could easily send him home and drive myself home! But he said, "What if your car dies on the way home?"

I refused to think about that.

So, I sent him to camp at 6ish, without even bothering to look for any cute soldiers because I was too tired and bitten half to death by ants.

The car didn't die, otherwise I would have another story to tell, and when I finally parked the car, I switched off its engine and re-started it.

It started fine!!

I left a pink Post-It for my dad, telling him his car died, showered (tried to scrub off the ants disgusting trail of invisible dirt left by their feet and mouths), and stumbled into bed.

When I woke up, I still had to go to the vet to buy Truffle's special food, and apparently my dad didn't read the Post-It although it was hot pink and probably stood out more than anything on our black piano!

In the end I called him and he asked me to bring it to the agent. So I drove (the car could still start) to the agent after the vet and they have the same device!

And there's nothing wrong with my battery.

Nothing wrong at all!!!!

I guess my car just can't stand the ants or something. Throwing a tantrum.

So that's that. Oh and my P-plate is coming off on Friday! No more road bullying for me, all you sickening OLD MEN who think you own the freaking road. All you stupid cab drivers. All you irritating road cutters.

I AM A FEMALE DRIVER WHO DRIVES LIKE A MALE, AND NOW EVERYONE SHALL BEWARE MY PROWESS, ONCE THE BLINDING ORANGE TRIANGE IS GONE.

2009-03-02T04:02:00.002+08:00

I am inspired. At 3:45 in the morning.

By my friend, let's just call him Brandon, whom I happened to see on MSN. As my friends would know, I am almost never on MSN, mostly because I am lazy to chat. But when I do, I look for people who are chattable, such as Brandon.

He puts my thoughts into words that I can never form into coherent sentences. It ends up being warped and an easy target for harsh judgements.

And as people who read my blog would know, I have been slandered again. Being called a "cheap horny bitch".

So take me as I am
This may mean you'll have to be a stronger man
Rest assured that when I start to make you nervous
And I'm going to extremes
Tomorrow I will change
And today won't mean a thing

Well, I can't blame people who may think that of me, especially people who don't know me, because everyone is entitled to their own judgement and can say whatever they wanna say. So conditioned am I to insults and backlash that I no longer even twitch at such comments. In fact, I expect them, and when they do come, I find them funny.

Because obviously, despite ourselves calling us a 'open society', there are still alot of people who do not see my past lifestyle as being acceptable or normal. In fact, the moment a girl opens up and talks about her choices, no matter how radical (or nomal, or which in fact are normal), she will be judged.

I hate the world today
You're so good to me I know but
I can't change tried to tell you but you look at me
Like maybe I'm an angel underneath
Innocent and sweet

So Brandon inspired me; we were talking about one of his friends who is a girl, who does not enjoy sex with her boyfriend.

She would rather DIY herself than to enjoy it. She doesn't even pretend to like it. I am horrified.

How can anyone not enjoy sex?? And I mean sex. Not rape.

I mean, yes, maybe her boyfriend just sucks at it. Sure I have had times when I just wanted it to be over - those times were rare. But, what is wrong with these girls??

As Brandon puts it, "I think many girls are just really suppressed? Like from young.. they are thought that IMPURE THOUGHTS, IMPURE MINDS...sex is perfectly natural man,"

In case any of you think Brandon is a horny, lust-filled male who thinks about sex all the time, think otherwise. He is someone whom I assumed was a virgin because he just looked too damn guai, and he can carry intelligent conversations very well, and he most certainly is not the kind of guy who treats women like objects (yes, that kind of sickening bastard we all meet in our lives at least once). He is a great person who cares very much for his friends.

"And the dramas that go men are baaaadddd....yes men are bad, but so are women. And gays. And lesbians," He rants. "So who's the say who's bad anyway?"

Here I must add that those slow-moving Korean dramas that even I find entertaining to watch are a bunch of bollocks. It implants oh so secretively the notion that every woman will end up with her prince charming who is either extremely rich or extremely poor but still devastatingly good-looking.

Which in real life never ends up that way. Love is more about commitment and sacrifice than the feeling itself.

Yesterday I cried
You must have been relieved to see the softer side
I can understand how you'd be so confused
I don't envy you
I'm a little bit of everything all rolled into one

We go on discussing his friend's almost sad sex life.

"Seriously, my friend just goes at it like a dead fish. Limp and totally not getting any pleasure out of it. Like, what did she do in her last life to deserve that?" says he.

"Maybe her boyfriend sucks at it?" I attempt, still unable to accept this irony and wildly confused by it.

"Boyfriends can change...but a literally non-existent sex life? I'm not saying that life without sex is impossible, but man, look at what you're missing. Humans were specifically designed to enjoy sex to ensure the species' survival," he continued.

Suddenly I was rattled. "YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME RIGHT!!!!! I DON'T HAVE A SEX LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALTHOUGH I HAVE A RELATIONSHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND MY BOYFRIEND IS THE ONE WHO WANTS TO ABSTAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I don't know what caused that outburst full of exclamation marks but maybe I am more affected by it than I thought. Anyway Brandon is used to such outbursts by me.

Then he showed me a blog post which he wrote about sexual abstinence. Which I will not post here, in case he gets slammed. Me getting slammed, I'm alright with it because what you see is what you get; I'm not about to go hiding my views just to suit everyone's reading pleasure or to hide pieces of me that are 'not socially acceptable'.

The main crux of it was, "Abstinence is certainly unrealistic without honesty, discipline and ethical values."

"You didn't write about the religious aspects," I say.

"I wanted to, but I thought that it would offend people so I thought not to. Coz i was about to say, what religon is doing is fig leafing the issue like it fig leafs so many others. We have all heard of priests who have weird sexual orientations.. pedos and such.. im not saying all priests are like that, but look what kind of damage an enforced suppression of sex drive does,

"I think it's more about responsibility. Not so much about having sex that's the problem," says he.

"Who is to judge someone who choose to have sex simply because they can? I mean you don't just call a woman a whore just because she likes to have sex and isn't afraid to do it right," he says.

Which I totally agree on, of course. Of course, I am not encouraging everyone to go out there and have sex with everyone, but the main point is responsibility. As long as each person who indulges knows what he/she is getting into, without hurting the other party, without cheating on any partner in their life, who is he/she accountable to?

Him/herself.

And it is merely a choice.

Just like it is a choice to abstain.

Which people may argue and say that it's nothing different as to being a prostitute.

"And to do justice to the sex workers, what they do is a job. In most developed countries, women do it on their own free will. So it is a job, thats all it is, maybe they enjoy it more than their day job, or it simply pays better, its a JOB," Brandon says.

Just like it is a choice to abstain.

If u abstain only because someone says you should i.e God or someone, then how different are u from the drug user who's simply not supplied drugs?

"If you do not think it is the RIGHT thing to do, but still follow it, then I would call you a blind herded sheep," says Brandon.

"Well, I know exactly what it is and what it entails. I know it isn't me, and it is not what I want. But it is good for us. For the happiness of my boyfriend and in turn our relationship, I would follow it. That's why it's called a sacrifice," I stated.

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your health, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know you wouldn't want it any other way

But, I tell him, off the record, I think he can't resist it for long. Which will lead to certain complications that have to do with his religion.

"It's gonna be tough for him," Brandon agrees. "God help him," (said rather ironically with a hint of sarcasm)

And then we launched into a series of talk about religion which is really not suitable to be put up anywhere.

So, my point is, everyone is up for judgement. But to what extent does a person have to be under the critical eye and be criticised because of what he/she says or does, which are personal choices? There are reasons for everything in life. And personal experiences only help a person grow, to find that inner being that was inside all along.

I know my friends support whatever choices I make. I know that they will advise me against certain things which they don't agree on, but they do not force me to make choices which they think are better for me. Ultimately, the choice is mine because it is my life. And I will still have their support as to whichever choice or road I choose to take.

I was also brought up this way.

My parents have always told me that it is my life and I lead it the way I want to. They will only be there to guide me but there is only so much they can do. Ultimately, the person I grow into, to become, is my own.

And so, because I cherish this relationship with Dear Daniel more than I cherish sex, I will follow his wishes and be a subdued girl. It is difficult and it is different for both him and me and especially me, but for the good of him and Him and us, I shall try.

God help us (said sarcastically and huffily and not at all in a pleading manner).

I'm a bitch, I'm a tease
I'm a goddess on my knees
When you hurt, when you suffer
I'm your angel undercover
I've been numbed, I'm revived
Can't say I'm not alive
You know I wouldn't want it any other way

2009-02-24T14:49:00.003+08:00

I never knew I would be judged so harshly. Or maybe I knew, but I just didn't want to believe that it would actually happen.

Of course, I had expected it, but yet when it happened, I reeled from the shock and the pain.

Of course, this whole online blog space is a memoir of all the things I had done in my past, some are self-censored, while others are downright blatant. Since I was 16.

This year I've turned 22, yet the atrocities have not ceased. This year has barely begun but already reeks of scandals.

I'm the textbook definition of a rebel
I see the crowd moving left and I've got go right
I'm always in some trouble
To me life ain't fun unless you're in a good fight

Now that I'm attached to a guy whom I really and truly believe is good for me, I am unable to make myself a better person. Because I am simply too stubborn, too hard-headed and too adamant in my own ways.

He is the only person who believes that the core of me is not who I was in the past. He is the only person who really and truly accepts it.

And last night, I was judged very harshly by an adult friend of his. It was said of me that logically, he should break up with me because "there are many girls out there who are better than her, and she will only lead you astray in her world. And then you will stop serving God, soon you will pick up your first cigarette, and you will cross the line,"

Of course, that line has already been crossed.

I was stung by the comments, told to me by him. I guess I expected it. In his world, people are virgins till marriage, people don't break up in relationships; they solve problems together, they are virtuous and stable.

In my world, sex is a pleasure, people break up because of problems they think are irreconcilable, and they are selfish.

So the more you're good to me
The more I try to get you to leave

I have always told him to continue serving in church, although he wanted to step down, because of certain consequences to the youth group due to the fact that he's dating a non-Christian, atheist-to-the-max, non-virgin, smoker girlfriend. But now, he has decided to continue serving, which is what I had always wanted him to do, although it would mean lesser time for us. I have always felt that he should do what he likes to do, as long as it doesn't harm us.

Mostly, because I respect him and believe that he is capable of making decisions.

But I hate it when he asks me to go to church with him.

All I wanna do is have a good time
Let the beat go through me and just take me away
You've been trying to get with me for a while
And I've been telling you to save that for another day

I've always known that religion would be the biggest barrier in our relationship. I have told him that when I was reluctant to go into a relationship with him. How can two people possibly live together with different mindsets and values?

So last night, stung from the comments that his mentor-friend gave him about me, I still kept my cool. I knew what was coming and I felt the heat rise in my face. How dare he ask me to go to church with him just because he "knows what's best for me"??

I hate going to church because I don't like the people there; I think they're all hypocrites who pretend to love God and be so holy. I am so resentful of it that I get fainting spells in church just to get out of it, I think everything is so fake.

But I believe that it is the humans who make God appear like that.If anything, I would gladly believe in God (although I don't) as long as I don't need to go to church. One does not need to go to church to believe in God.

So I went to have an argument with my boyfriend about going to church and how I don't want to go to church. I ranted on and on and he just sat there patiently waiting for me to stop. In my mind, thoughts like "Why do I have to be the one who is always sacrificing for you?", "You are not the one being judged so critically by my friends but yet me being with you makes me end up like the bad person, the one who is leading you away from all the supposedly good things" and stuff like "It's all my fault anyway for choosing to be with you".

In the end, we came to a compromise that I would go to church on ONE sunday only. Just one. I'm sure I can handle just one sunday. And if I faint, I most certainly will not have to attend the whole thing.

And he shall never ask me to go to church again.

All my life I've made excuses
Pushing you away, saying that you're not for me
All my life I ran from Cupid
I tried everything

The last blow he dealt me was about crossing the line. He decided that we should stop having "moments of pleasure". If you know what I mean.

I thought I would die at that moment.

Nobody has ever told me that they did not want to have a sexual relationship with me. Nobody has ever resisted. And now, he's saying that "Sex is very sacred, only to be shared between married couples,"

I mean, yeah, but a relationship is not complete without it!

I just can't believe it, until now. I mean, who gets to decide what is best for the relationship? Is it him? He keeps saying "I know what's best for you,"

And I know it is best for me and for us, these decisions that he is making, but I was unable to accept it, because I do not like being told what to do, when to do it and being controlled.

Although I knew it would be good for us. And me. Especially me.

So yeah. Now I am celibate for the rest of my life until I get married. It is not possible or likely that I am going to have a change of partner until then.

Please just die with me, everyone.

No sex!! For the rest of my life until marriage!!! Argh.

I bet my mother would be shocked. I myself can't come to terms with it.

I never would've thought
You'd be the one
That I'd be with in the end...
I never would've dreamed
That you and me
Would be together in the end

An almost impossible partnership of two unlikely people.

Hello, Hello Kitty!

2009-02-19T01:54:00.009+08:00

I was never a fan of Hello Kitty, until I went to Thailand two years ago and saw the faux Hello Kitty market, full of pink, ribbon-y, cute kitties, and suddenly it struck me.

<>

Hello Kitty is cute!

And I bought a Hello Kitty umbrella and after one day of careful thought (I actually went to the hotel and pondered over whether it was going to be a wise move to succumb to my inner child by buying Hello Kitty merchandise), I bought a Hello Kitty calculator.!

My Hello Kitty collection grew. Now, I have a huge Hello Kitty clock, a 2008 Hello Kitty calendar (which I used to check dates for my events, but I'll never let my clients know that), a Hello Kitty mousepad, the Hello Kitty calculator (which I use to calculate budgets for my clients), a Hello Kitty towel holder (given to me by Ho Wa with a matching Hello Kitty face towel), two Hello Kitty stick pads in my car, one Hello Kitty bling sticker which I stuck on my rearview mirror, a Hello Kitty water bottle, Hello Kitty keyboard stickers, a Hello Kitty key case, a Hello Kitty necklace, plenty of Hello Kitty stickers given to me by my students, a Hello Kitty jewel box also given by my student, and some Hello Kitty dolls which my mother bought during the Hello Kitty craze at Macdonald's (and I didn't even like Hello Kitty then), a book 'by Hello Kitty' on how to be creative given to me as a Christmas Present when I was very very young and I used to have a Hello Kitty mouse but Cadbury knocked it to the floor and it broke, and I was very upset with him for days and ignored him.

I read about the launch of Hello Kitty MAC cosmetics sometime last year, and was anticipating the launch this year. I tell you, the collection is awesome!

MAC tries to make Hello Kitty sexy and wild, but she still looks cute!

I know they have eyeshadows and blushers and brushes and lipsticks, but I don't really like the design on the casing. I will buy these though:

Hello Kitty Nail Laquer!

And Hello Kitty lipgloss!

MAC even has the bling collection.

I mean, Hello Kitty + bling is so my kinda thing. *drools*

So anyway, my beloved girlfriend Pamela texted me about the Hello Kitty MAC collection and says she's going to get some stuff too. YAY!

I can name plenty of people who want to puke at the point of time, because some people just don't like Hello Kitty because it is a childish, girly thing. Naming all the guys I know would probably take hours of my time. Amidst all the barf, I am just going to continue with my swoon fest.

I mean, if Hello Kitty really were so disgusting, then designers wouldn't be bothered to come up with Hello Kitty inspired outfits and put them on beautiful models right??

I don't know how come I've become so crazy over Hello Kitty at the age of 19, when I should've been crazy over her when I was 9. All my students love Hello Kitty too. I have a student who has a room FULL of Hello Kitty merchandise (because her mum loves Hello Kitty too!) and I just spend my two hours admiring all the Hello Kitties.

And teaching her, of course.

And of course, I get stuff like Hello Kitty stickers and jewel boxes from them. Share the love man!

Because my love for Hello Kitty is not blind, I have decided to get to know her a little better.

Although Hello Kitty was born in Japan, she isn't Japanese. She lives outside the surburbs of London with her father, George White; mother, Mary White; and twin sister, Mimmy White.

Other occupants of the White house include Bear, apparently a living teddy, and Moley, who pops up in the garden. And Hello Kitty's grandparents.

Mimmy White wears a yellow ribbon on her right ear; Hello Kitty wears a red ribbon on her left.

Hello Kitty was born on November 1st 1974. Which means she's a Scorpio! Since Truffle doesn't have a birthday yet, I shall christen Truffle to be born on the same date as Hello Kitty, since they are both white. Hello Kitty is merely a nickname; her real name is Kitty White.

Much has been made of Hello Kitty's mouth, or lack thereof. A handful of feminist scholars say her noncommunicative nature perpetuates the submissive female archetype, while others attribute Hello Kitty's appeal to her blank stare -- onto which fans can project their own emotions.

According to Hello Kitty's official bio on Sanrio's website, "Kitty is a cheerful, warm-hearted little girl. Baking cookies is her forte, but what she enjoys most is eating a slice of Mama's apple pie!" We also learn that her favorite things include candy, stars, and goldfish, as well as the inevitable "small, cute things."

Hello Kitty is in third grade. And forever will be in her world. She weighs the same as three apples and stands five apples tall. Her blood type is A. (Since I don't know my blood type, I hope it is the same as hers. My mother did say my blood type is either A or AB+! So there's hope)

Hello Kitty is now 35, and probably undergoing a mid-life crisis. Although in her world she remains a kitten, her Earthly reality continues to grow. In 1993, Sanrio introduced a boyfriend for her, named Dear Daniel. Dear Daniel was named after a character in the 1971 English film Melody. The two playmates rarely rendezvous, however, because Daniel is perpetually on African safari with his family (dad is a photographer).

I wonder how her relationship with Dear Daniel is like. I mean, they both don't have mouths how to communicate?!?

And I'm pretty sure Hello Kitty and Dear Daniel are married. At 35, Hello Kitty sure has been through many weddings with Dear Daniel.

Hello Kitty and Dear Daniel have a white wedding in Sanrio, Puroland.

Hello Kitty and Dear Daniel get married under a gazebo. Damn romantic lah!

Although it is said that they rarely rendezvous because Dear Daniel is in Africa, but it seems that they still make time for each other! It appears that they can afford to travel around the world, probably because Hello Kitty is the main breadwinner in their marriage, from all her product endorsements. The fake Hello Kitty market is worth $800 million you know!

Hello Kitty looks quite ugly in her above outfit, where she probably went to China during the Mooncake Festival. Must be because Dear Daniel decided he looks good in stripes and forced Hello Kitty to wear lovers' outfits with him.

Other members of her social circle include the teen bunny Kathy, brother and sister monkeys Timmy and Tammy, and boy puppy Jody.

In the above picture, Hello Kitty goes on an adventure with Mimmy and Dear Daniel, and their other friends whom I can't be bothered to know.

Hello Kitty's celeb fans include Christina Aguilera and Miley Cyrus, two people whom I adore at different levels. Looks like I have something in common with Christina, whom I love for her dedication and commitment to her career and not fucking up her life, and with whom I agree that the right man can indeed Save Me From Myself.

As for Miley, she's still so young, she can afford to like Hello Kitty without being slammed. And I hope she goes a long way although her voice sometimes sounds like a rat.

And although Britney Spears too, is a fan, I shall not admit to having anything in common with her. Kelly Osbourne and Lindsay Lohan too.

And I wish to laugh at all the guys who think Hello Kitty is stupid, because Steven Tyler is a fan! And P Diddy too!

Muahahahaha. HA.

Just today, I was out with Daniel, and I went gushing over some Hello Kitty doll that was on sale.

"Ooooh Hello Kitty!!" I swooned. "And Dear Daniel!!"

I tittered over to the dolls on their rack. They were getting married (again) in Chinese wedding costumes. Daniel picked up the Hello Kitty doll and pretended to admire it for like, one second.

Before punching Hello Kitty in her face.

"Stupid cat, looking so dumb, without a mouth. What cat doesn't have a mouth??!" He said.

My jaw dropped as I stared at him in shock and horror. "How can you punch Hello Kitty???" My voice rising with every word. "Why can't you punch Dear Daniel as well since he doesn't have a mouth too?"

"Well, because Dear Daniel has my name in it," Daniel said.

I began raining punches onto his biceps. "You unfair male chauvinist with your super big ego how can you punch Hello Kitty and not Dear Daniel when you shouldn't even be punching Hello Kitty not only because I like it but what if you damage the merchandise of the store --" he was yelping in pain and I felt his arm muscles tighten to lessen the blows which were relentless but since he's a diver he should be able to take it.

I then proceeded to wring his neck and sneak in some scratches with my super long fingernails until his face looked more red than ever and I felt that my fingernails were going to break. Obviously I didn't want to break my nails.

FYI, Hello Kitty, or Kitty White, is not a cat. She is in fact a girl.

Yes, I bet some out there are thinking that I've gone off my rocker or that I've let some stupid fictional cartoon character brainwash me as a result of utterly successful marketing.

But if they say Hello Kitty is a girl then she IS a girl. Although I don't know why she looks like a mouthless cat.

Some things I have in common with Hello Kitty are that we both love listening to music and reading, travelling (when my pocket is not dry or full of holes, unlike she, who has tons of money to have plenty of weddings not to mention worldly tours) and making new friends.

And most importantly, we both have boyfriends called Daniel. Who are not always available - her Dear Daniel is in an African safari with his photographer Dad (I've always wondered, if he was really always in an African safari then Dear Daniel should be brown in colour what!) and my dear Daniel is always diving deep down into the sea trying to look for bombs.

Both Daniels obviously have nothing in common. One of them doesn't even like Hello Kitty while the other adores her.

So I shall find a day to go get those limited edition Hello Kitty MAC cosmetics. Maybe I'll be so bowled over that I'll end up buying more than the nail polish and lipgloss.

Most girls are sighing over the fact that the MAC-Hello Kitty cosmetics were released only one day before Valentine's Day, giving their boyfriends little time to grab them for a Valentine's Day present, but I won't even bother to sigh about that.

I'm sure Daniel won't even go near any Hello Kitty merchandise or he might end up punching them. Woe is me.

Since Truffle is a female white cat, I shall plan to dress her up as Hello Kitty when she gets well and can walk properly.

I love Hello Kitty is an understatement.

2009-02-18T15:54:00.002+08:00

Truffle is getting better and better. Now, she can walk, run, jump and pounce. Although she walks like a drunkard cat (because her left hind leg is weak), but at least she's walking! The hole in my heart is mending.

She only eats this supplement-rich, vitamin-filled food that can only be bought at the vet's. Hill's Diet. It is expensive (compared to the food that my other cats eat) but I don't mind buying it for her as long as she's eating.

Today, I brought her for a check-up at the vet's again. She has been scratching her face until there's a big, bloody square gash on her left cheek. The vet merely said she's teething and tends to try to scratch the insides of her mouth. And that she still has some brain problem as her eyes are still swooning.

And after her check-up, the vet asked me if I'd like to adopt a cat they found! It is SO freaking cute... big eyes, big face, even has a goatee like Strudel! But no, it would not be a wise decision. My mother would kill me.

(well, not really. She'd fall in love with the cat too)

So the other night, I was playing with my cats at midnight. They seemed to be exceptionally playful and nocturnal on that particular night. All they need are cheap thrills and that night's thrill happened to be a piece of string from somewhere.

Truffle began gently swatting at the string, while Cadbury (the tiger) mercilessly caught it in one swap and began chewing on it. Then he let go of it and let Truffle play with it for awhile, before catching it in one grab again. This carried on for awhile, and then Black Cat Lucky came sauntering into the room.

Both Cadbury and Truffle immediately stopped playing. Wary glares were thrown around between Cadbury and Lucky. I should probably explain, at this point, that in the hierarchy of animals in my house, Cadbury is the cat leader and Junior is the dog leader.

The rabbit and gerbil don't have to lead, although they're both rodents but each leads their own separate lives, considering that the gerbil is perpetually in his cage anyway.

So Cadbury is a very gentle cat (except when he sees strangers, then he starts becoming territorial and begins hissing and growling) and he doesn't bully other animals except for Cracker the dog by whacking his ass, which is super easy target for bullying anyway.

And he's super protective of Truffle.

Because he doesn't bully animals (think gentle but with a regal air of authority), Lucky takes the opportunity to disrespect his place at the top of the hierarchy and tries to bully him into submission. More so, because Lucky is a female, Cadbury somehow does not bully females. So he has allowed himself to be chased around the house by Lucky.

So Lucky came sauntering into the room, acting like a queen, and all play stopped. Truffle still can't walk properly so she was slumped against the door. Cadbury immediately moved in front of Truffle, blocking her from Lucky.

I saw that as being protective.

I sat there quietly, feeling the catty tension build up. Lucky began growling lowly. Neither of them stopped glaring at each other. Truffle looked innocent and small, just like a kid.

Suddenly, Lucky's paw flashed out and whacked Cadbury on some part of his body, most likely his neck or head. Cadbury immediately stood up and hissed, his fur standing.

My mother suddenly appeared out of nowhere and scooped Lucky up and brought her away. "Better not let them be like that in front of Truffle, later they end up hurting her,"

Ha, human interruption.

Lucky went to sit in my balcony, on her red chair, and started licking herself. She still had a view of Cadbury and Truffle.

Then, Strudel the cute cat with a goatee came ambling into the room. Strudel and Cadbury are best friends, because they grew up together as kittens. They always get into friendly tuffles which end up with Cadbury pining Strudel down, because Strudel is a smaller size, and he eats VERY little. Araxes says he's anorexic.

The game with the string continues, this time with the three cats sitting in a triangle, each taking turns to whack the string which I dangled from my fingers. It was very pleasing and cute to watch. Few minutes later, Lucky came sauntering back.

She obviously wanted to play, but it was also obvious that the other cats did not want to play with her. Cadbury was pissed with her, Truffle was frightened of her and Strudel began glaring at her.

In the hierarchy of cats, Strudel does not like Lucky at all. While Cadbury tolerates her, Strudel displays a vivid show of hatred for Lucky. Whenever possible, he chases her up window sills, into a corner, and proceeds to whack her.

It is funny that Lucky is scared of Strudel but not of Cadbury, although Cadbury is the leader, and Strudel is happy to be led by Cadbury in the hierarchy.

So Strudel starts glaring at Lucky and wants to pounce onto her. But because I was sitting there, he did not dare to chase her away because he always gets scolded for doing so.

The game with the string ceased again. All cats watched with trepidation as the catty tension between Cadbury, Strudel and Lucky rose again. Truffle seems to be the only innocent party (as of yet, because she's still a kitten).

In the end, Strudel couldn't take it anymore and chased Lucky away.

This is called bad karma.

I continued to play with the three cats for another half an hour, watching them aimlessly whack the string.

Then, Cadbury proceeded to groom Truffle and I grew sleepy.

I can't stop thinking of the cute cat in the vet's office. Damn cute.

2009-02-12T13:20:00.003+08:00

St Valentine's Day is approaching.

And I have a date. I have a feeling this year's Valentine's Day will be different. Although I have been with other guys who've never had a Valentine's Day date, with me being the first, somehow the hype around my date this year is kind of escalating. As some of the close people would know, he's never had a girlfriend before (why do I sound like I'm robbing innocent boys of their first times?) and therefore I think this year will be different.

Some people may be wondering - but not vocalising - so what happened to The Canadian?

Well apparently, based on his latest email, he has lost trust in me.

Its funny how its you who couldn't trust me. I saw it coming, I discovered that girls who can't trust and are jealous are the ones who cheat first, cuz they have low self esteem and feel their relationship is fragile because they think they are unworthy or something and want a backup plan out of being scared to be alone.

Well. What can I say? Firstly, I feel nothing but guilt towards him. He was perfectly sweet and kind to me when he was in Singapore. But immediately after he left, this other guy, let's just call him Hansel, started calling me and talking to me into the wee hours of the night.

There are a few revelations I'd like to make at this point of time.

1) Hansel is actually my client from NDU whom I thought was cute. Mr Oxley Road once said "I'm sure he'll come after you," but I super mega confidently told him, "Guys like him do not even look at girls like me,"

2) Hansel and Francoise (as per previous blog posts) are actually me and him.

3) Which proves that no matter how innocent or grounded or good a guy is, he will still be susceptible to females, such as me. Who are worlds apart and has dipped her hands into many a fling and fire.

Anyway. Alot of things have happened between Hansel and I, and now the question lies: Do I want to be with him?

He has been waiting for an answer for about a month to three weeks now. And I find that I am still unable to give him an answer.

Firstly, I am overcome with guilt for The Canadian. Although ALL my friends say, "You and him would never have worked out anyway", but still, he has been nothing but good to me.

Secondly, Hansel and I are very different. He's a super devout Christian while I'm a super atheist, and getting more atheist every day. He's totally sporty and I'm totally not (one day I even got pissed because he was trying to make me do sports with him). But the biggest barrier that was stopping me was that he had never a girlfriend before.

I mean, I don't wanna be the evil one few months or years down the road to have a change of heart and break his heart. I'd rather he be with someone more stable than me, more guai than me and more deserving of him.

Here's where The Canadian was right about my low self-esteem.

But, as Hansel's friend spent 2 over hours talking to me and advising me into the wee hours of the night "STOP giving yourself excuses you piece of shit, you're just in denial, and so far all the excuses you've given me I've already proven you WRONG you fucking asshole,"

I mean, he is a well-meaning and super good friend, to sacrifice his sleep despite having to wake up in 2 hours.

But in no way was I planning to "find a backup plan" because I "thought the relationship was fragile" with The Canadian. I mean, Hansel just came along at maybe not the right time, but it was ALL my fault anyway.

I should never have taken Hansel as a challenge. The typical good boy who goes to church was a very very tempting challenge for me, just to prove that I could snag him. Now that I have and he has fallen deeply in love with me, I realise that it is ALL my fault.

If not for me, The Canadian and I would still be happily planning when I would go over to Canada. But somewhere deep down inside of me knows that even if I did go over and stay with him or whatnot, we still would not have lasted.

Some people may think I'm just trying to comfort myself, to take away the guilt, but I think it is true. Yes, he has been very good to me. Yes, it was a fairy tale at first when he flew across the world for me. But in the two weeks when I was living with him, I felt like there was something that wasn't right.

Maybe that's why Hansel could so easily step in.

All the excuses I gave Alan were:

1) We're totally incompatible

2) What if he wants me to go to church and I simply cannot not only because I will faint in church cuz God doesn't really like me, and then our relationship becomes strained because he's such a devout Christian? And what if he sacrifices church for me because I don't go, and I don't want him to sacrifice one of the important things of his life for me?

3) What if I go back to my old ways and cheat on him one day?

4) I feel he deserves someone better

5) I am guilty because of The Canadian

6) I just need some time

7) I feel that he's just going impulse shopping and buying the first thing he sees, which is me. But if he shopped smartly at different shops, he may find something that's value for money and better than me!

And to argue with Alan, is impossible. I thought I could argue my way out of anything but apparently not when it comes to Alan.

He shot down every single point.

1) "Haven't you heard of opposites attract? Maybe he had high expectations before he met you, and that stupid idiot was too honest with you when you guys were just friends and told you alot of things that he THOUGHT was a perfect relationship, but after he fell for you, he realised that all those expectations flew out of the window because YOU were the one who he decided was perfect for him!"

2) "Nobody can make you go to church if you don't want to. Going to church is something you guys need to work out after you're together. If it's meant to be it will be. And sacrificing church is his decision, you can't stop it if he decides to do it. Even if you'll feel guilty, there's nothing you can do,"

3) "Stop giving me all these what-ifs. If you think you'll cheat on him, then that's something that happens in the future! What if being with him is so good that you dont even want to cheat on him? You can never know until you try,"

4) "Although you feel he deserves someone better, who are you to judge his decisions? You are the one he wants to be with. Right now you're just slapping him in his face and saying that he's made the wrong decision to be with you"

5) "Why should you feel guilty about the other canada guy? If your relationship was so strong in the first place, Hansel wouldnt even be able to come into the picture. The fact that he's across the world says it all - that he was not able to be there for you!"

6) "How much time do you need? You think one day something is gonna fall into your lap and make a decision for you? You're just giving yourself excuses!"

7) "Hansel has made the decision that the first thing he sees was the best ever thing and the most value for money when he went shopping. So shut up and stop demeaning yourself,"

HOW TO OUTTALK HIM???

He asked, "What do you like about Hansel?"

And I said, "The fact that I can trust him completely, he's rather good-looking, he treats me very well, he makes me happy, he's obviously crazy over me, my friends like him, he passed the I-am-throwing-a-bitch-fit-now-so-you better-say-the-right-thing test, he would make a good boyfriend..."

And I really do trust him. To the point that I dont feel jealous when other girls are trying to come onto him, to the point that even when he went clubbing I wasn't even insecure or scared, until he asked me, "Why are you not even jealous? It would make me feel better if you were jealous. At least to show that you care,"

And I don't know why I'm not jealous or insecure with him. I even got angry that he wanted me to be jealous.

"Then what else do you want from him?? Why are you torturing him this way!!" screamed Alan in frustration.

Lastly, (he repeated this over and over) he said, "I just want you to follow your heart. Hansel has already been able to take that step out of his comfort zone and decide to be with you. You think he's not scared? Whether or not you say yes or no to him, just follow your heart and even if you guys breakup, at least you tried,"

And I tried my last feeble attempt, "I've followed my heart with all my other ex boyfriends and that led to nothing, and if you think we're going to break up then what for even start?"

And Alan said, "That's your mind talking. You're just scared and fearful that it will end up like before like your past. But your HEART is telling you that you like him and want to be with him,"

See? How to argue?

Exhausted, I finally gave up.

Deep down inside, I knew I had already made my decision. I didn't need Alan or anyone giving me advice. But I did want to hear what they had to say. Even Timbre people would randomly come up to me and ask me if I were with Hansel. Like, how did they know?? Then, they would TELL me to be with him cuz he's a good guy. Like, how did they know? It's not like they're very close with him.

Head chef said, "If I were your father, I'd tell you to marry him already!" Luckily he's not my father.

So yeah, I've made my decision, and have a Happy Valentine's Day everyone.

2009-02-06T15:49:00.002+08:00

I don't mean to sound like a prick or a spoilt brat, but I absolutely detest taking public transport since I could drive and have been driving around since then.

There was once, after meeting Firewire for cycling, I decided to go to Dover to meet the Brazilian. And I wasn't driving because it was Sunday and Daddy uses the car on Sundays. So I had to take the train from Pasir Ris to Dover.

20 stops.

Just kill me.

I can't stand trains more than buses. I feel that buses are a tad better; there's often eye-candy on buses than trains, and I've had many friendships forged from riding in the same bus as some people.

But trains, oh my god, these people simply push and shove or be inconsiderate or block up entrances and exits or, common occurence with me, love to start leaning on me or putting their sleepy heads on my shoulders.

So anyway. On this particular long, 20 stops train ride, I had psyched myself to maximum optimism. In my carriage, considerate people were aplenty.

A young man gave up his seat for an old, foreign (ang moh) lady, who was travelling with her family. Kind smiles were exchanged and I couldn't help but flash a small smile to myself. People were looking at me, maybe because I was looking around, marveling at how travelling with strangers is such a surreal feeling. And they smiled at me, or gave me polite nods.

I was beginning to enjoy my ride, although I did not have my iPod Touch with me because it was in the car.

A man two seats next to me stood up, somewhere in the middle of my ride, and offered his seat to an old lady. She had a crown of white hair, she was so pint-sized that even I was sure that I could easily lift her. She was hunched over, the way old people are when they shrink, and the wrinkles on her face were deeply set, as though marking all the experiences she's ever had in life.

She looked so ancient and fragile, and when she settled two seats next to me, I could smell a fragrance that was not an "old person" smell. It smelt floral and vintage.

Due to my lack of entertainment, I began imagining what kind of life had the old woman led when she was in her prime. Judging from her small petite figure, she would have been small-sized even in her 20s, perhaps a beauty that men loved to be with. In those days, perhaps she was a samsui woman, one of those rare breeds that are still surviving now.

Or perhaps she was a lady of entertainment.

Or a loving mother who had to bring up her children while her husband was fighting in the war.

Or a spinster who thought highly of herself and hence never wanted to settle down because 'they were all not good enough for her'.

Or perhaps her children had all kicked her out of their lives and she was all alone.

I was reaching Dover in 5 stops, and at this point in my imagination, a drunk China man sat on my left. I was immediately alert, all flighty thoughts of the old woman gone, as her floral vintage scent was replaced by a breeze of alcohol wafting into my nostrils.

I was disgusted, and perhaps it showed on my face, because a family of three was in front of me and the mother looked at me with a hint of curiousity, but it flashed for a split second and was gone and in place her look said, "I'm going to mind my own business", like most Singaporeans always look.

I was not disgusted because he was drunk. I was disgusted because he kept leaning over towards me. He was fiddling with his mobile phone, and his elbow kept resting on my thigh.

Suddenly, he turned to me and asked, in Mandarin of course, "&*() ^*&( )(*^ *(&^$%^& !#$%^& ??"

I simply couldn't understand what he was asking. One, I couldn't get past the irritating China accent, and two, his words were slurred. Three, my mandarin sucks.

I said, "Wo bu zhi dao,"

He repeated the question. I said, a bit louder, clearly exhibiting my irritance with him, "Wo bu zhi dao!"

A middle-aged lady then prodded him and apparently, he wanted to know how to get to Tiong Bahru. So she told him the way. Thankfully, I was glad that his attention was diverted from me.

Shortly after, he began leaning against me, his head lolling, until it almost touched my shoulders. His arm was now resting on my leg. I couldn't tolerate it any longer so I made a huge dramatic action and shoved his arm and head away from me.

The family in front of me looked startled but resumed their "I'm minding my own business" faces.

I leaned further away from that idiotic China man. I was sandwiched between two men, actually - the China man and an Indian man. Thankfully, the Indian man was a Singaporean Indian and not a foreign worker.

As though my big dramatic action was not enough to deter him, he still kept leaning towards me and inching his elbow towards my thigh! I decided to play up my role of the victim (which I clearly was) and leaned further towards the Indian man.

Finally, my saviour came, without a white horse, as the Indian man asked, "Would you like to switch places?"

I gave him my most grateful smile and said, "Yes please. Thank you,"

So we switched places. The family looked amused.

Suddenly, the china man seemed to be able to sit straight in his seat. He was no longer leaning towards any side.

Stupid bastard.

Finally, I got off, my butt cramping from the uber long ride, my legs weak from all the cycling and swimming earlier, my heart rattled from the sickening experience in the train, and my mind feeling like I needed an alcoholic drink and a cigarette.

And that is why if the day comes when I have to take public transport on a daily basis, I think I'm going to suffer. Therefore I should start training myself to live with it. At the very least, there are good people out there who are willing to help.

Just a simple question: When you've played your game too far, and the other party says "I love you", although you are worlds apart in terms of lifestyles and it is no longer a game nor a challange anymore, what would you do? Not considering you have another person who says "I love you" too, and what if you had to choose between the two?

Love is a losing game
Why do I wish I never played
Oh what a mess we made
And now the final frame
Love is a losing game

That's two questions, and too difficult to answer.

Love is a losing hand
Self professed... profound
Till the chips were down ...know you're a gambling man
Love is a losing hand
Though I'm rather blind
Love is a fate resigned
Memories mar my mind
Love is a fate resigned
Over futile odds
And laughed at by the gods
And now the final frame
Love is a losing game

2009-02-04T15:01:00.002+08:00

I am constantly reminded that my blog is growing cobwebs.

Well here goes.

Chinese New Year was just round the corner, flitting, and then almost gone. A most unfortunate event occured.

Truffle fell out of my bedroom window.

Day 1 - Chu Yi

I felt Truffle worming herself under my blanket, where Junior was sleeping. Subconsciously, half-asleep, I was hoping that Junior wouldn't be irritated and snap at her again. I felt her soft warm body wriggling against mine, probably playing with her tail or doing her usual mad dash around the house. I heard her switch on my radio by stepping on it.

My mother and sisters had just left the house for MacD breakfast, and although I was supposed to join them, I preferred my bed more.

Five minutes later, my handphone rang, and it was Araxes. "What the hellllllllll........" I muttered and switched the phone to silent and let it ring. It rang again. And again.

"What??!" I half mumbled half screeched into the phone.

"Truffle fell out of the window!!" her voice was filled with panic and anxiety.

"Har?? Okok I come down now," I was immediately wide awake and running to the bathroom to brush my teeth. (I wouldn't wanna scare the poor kitten with my morning breath)

I threw on some top and shorts that was lying around my room and left without even putting my sunblock or any makeup (except that I drew my eyebrows haphazardly cuz if I don't draw my eyebrows I have no eyebrows and THAT would be scary).

I ran down the stairs and found my mother cradling Truffle in her arms. I saw blood everywhere on her shirt and on Truffle's mouth. My sisters were running up and down, back to the house, getting towels and stuff.

One quick call to the Mt Pleasant Animal Hospital told us we'd be an emergency case, and regardless of the sky-high cost to bring an animal in to hospital on an emergency AND on a public holiday, we quickly flagged a cab (Daddy took the car, of all days).

The vet there was somewhat inexperienced and was unable to tell us exactly what was wrong with Truffle.

She immediately injected medications to prevent swelling around the brain, took a blood test, an enzyme test, put Truffle on an oxygen mask and IV drip, and took an X-ray.

"Things look very bad. Her liver has been bruised, as the enzyme test shows. Why don't you guys come back around 3pm after I take the X-ray and then decide what you wanna do? See if she has any broken bones or what not. Currently, all she needs is time. She may not even survive because of the trauma she's going through, plus her weak liver, and we still don't know if she has any damaged organs or broken bones. Let's give her a few hours, I will call you after we do the X-Ray,"

Araxes was crying non-stop. I was trying not to cry but in the end, I did. How not to when I was seeing my poor 4 month old kitten lying in a cage, with needles poking into her cute paw for the IV drip, plus her entire face in an oxygen mask, simply staring into space, looking like she was hanging on a thin thread, about to let go of life?

We went to pick the car from Daddy, and I managed a call to Agnes, who is the supposed godmother of Truffle. She said, "If really have no choice then gotta put her down already lor, better than letting her suffer,"

I went home to sleep. I was so tired.

At about 5pm, we went back to the vet, who showed us the X-Ray and said, "She has no broken bones nor damaged organs at all. The reason why she's so flat is because she's had brain trauma and is now comatose. She doesn't respond to light tests in her eyes, and even when she does, it is slow and abnormal. We will have to hospitalise her overnight, give her the medication she needs, but even so, we cannot guarantee that she'll live."

We had a minor discussion, and decided to discharge her from the hospital since the vet can't do anything anyway but put her there in the horrid cage. She would be much better at home with the other animals.

So after we discharged her, I had to learn how to insert the IV drip needle into her neck. For me, it was not a choice. I had to do it despite how creeped out and weak I felt about inserting needles into a living being.

I did not go visiting that day, since the whole day was spent at the vet.

That night, Truffle was placed in a basket, her paws were cold and she was still unmoving.

Day 2

Today, we had to go visiting, no matter what, because we'd already missed one day. I woke up at 8am to insert the IV drip into Truffle, because she wasn't eating. Her ears had turned blue-ish and her paws were cold and stiff. When we called her name, she had small response, weak, but still a response. Her eyes were stoned, as if on drugs.

Crackie was very intrigued, and stayed by her side most of the time. Cadbury would come and sniff her occasionally.

Mummy said, "Be prepared, she may not live,"

So I went visiting, all dolled up, looking like I was fresh and alive but instead, feeling like shit and super tired.

We went to my dad's aunt's place.

We had a fantastic lunch catered by a high class caterer. I saw my nephew, and was shocked because he had hiphop songs like "Low" in his handphone, and he knew how to breakdance.

And he's nine.

Of course, because we're not close, my nephews and nieces on my dad's side don't even call me "aunty" and probably they don't even know my name. I was quite pissed. Not that I want them to call me aunty, but I mean, it's just respect that the parents should inculcate. Just because I am young and my sisters are young doesn't mean we're not their aunties what.

My nephew took some pictures for us.

Then, we went to my cousin's place, where at least my nephews on this side know that I'm their aunty!

And they always give me hugs.

We played blackjack, where I kept winning.

Then we rushed home to take care of Truffle, who was still alive.

Day 3

We decided to bring Truffle for a second checkup at the Mt Pleasant Clinic, because we trust the vets more there. The vet said to put her on steroids, otherwise she would be permanently in the state where she can't walk or is comatose.

"However, putting her on steroids is only a 50-50 chance that she'll survive. Because of her liver, the steroids may kill her instantly,"

So once again, we took her away from the clinic, only buying medication for her liver and brain, and some Hill's Diet expensive canned food that will give her supplements and vitamins.
Truffle is still stoned but we began feeding her soft canned cat food. She ate very little, not enough to sustain herself, so we had to continue putting her on the drip.

It actually takes alot of self control to not grimace or wince or feel weak when I'm poking the needle in, because my silly sister and mother both are squirming and saying either "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" or "Are you putting it in correctly??" which stresses me so I tell both of them to go away while I do it myself.

Truffle on the drip.

My poor baby.

Crackie and Cadbury watching her.

Lucky watching her and probably thinking, "That's my chair!! I wanna sit and groom on it - but since she's sick...oh well,"

Lucky and Cadbury have groomed Truffle most lovingly.

Day 4

Truffle has started eating the canned food prescribed by the vet, and we mix her medicine into her food so we don't need to force feed it down her throat and end up choking her.

She also has started having nightmares everytime she sleeps. She would kick around violently (proving that her limbs are all really intact) and she would urinate in her sleep sometimes.

Even as I type this, Truffle is sleeping in her basket at my feet, and she is thrashing around wildly, her tail puffed up. Sometimes, she kicks herself out of her basket.

Day 5

We have started talking to Truffle everyday and monitoring her response. Now, although her eyes are still stoned, they are less stoned than before, and her response is quicker.

We have started using strings and toys to play with her, and her paw would be weakly lifted, and her mouth opens slightly - an indication that she wants to play, but some part of her body or brain is not allowing her to do so.

She is able to control her bladder and only shit or pee when we bring her to the litter box. Cats, even in sickness or most dire straits, are still clean to the max.

Day 6

The nightmares for Truffle continue. She is eating more as the days go by.

She is trying to walk, but can't. She has, however, succeeded in sitting up for at least 15 minutes, without flopping down on her side again.

Day 7

Today is People's Day. We go visiting again, at my mum's oldest sister's house. Once again, I fall asleep on the couch. I don't know why I'm so tired. Must be all the late nights.

Then we go to my cousin's house again, where my mother's youngest sister is cooking. I enjoy going to her house because 1) my feng shui in blackjack is damn good, 2) I get to see my favourite nephews!

Play blackjack again, and I win about $60, enough to cover my losses for gambling at Josy's house the night before, and win some more.

I can't blame my nephews and nieces on my father's side for not knowing my name cuz we seldom see each other. Because I myself can't remember some of my cousins' names.

She is one cousin whom I rarely see, but on that day, she was so chummy with me! She even gave me a hug when I left because I gave my nephews hugs and she wanted one too. And yeah I couldn't remember her name at first.

But because she's my cousin, my nephews still call her aunty although she's younger than them!!

See this is called good parenting.

Played with my cousins and nephews on the swing. Terrorizing man.

Anyway. We went back to take care of Truffle. She is beginning to want to walk, but can't and I don't know why.

She would take 2 baby steps , and then fall over on her side.

Day 8

I am hungover from drinking with Daniel. I couldn't get out of bed the whole day.

Was supposed to buy the Hill's Diet canned food but couldn't because I felt like puking. Truffle is still trying to walk.

Day 9

Went to the vet's to buy Truffle's Hill's Diet canned food - blooody expensive and she loves it. She is no longer on the drip (thank god no more poking for me) as she's eating well and drinking milk too.

Met Daniel for dinner. We've found our favourite cafe to go to - and it's organic! It was a night of truth.

Day 10

My sister, Truffle's nanny, has gone out to soccer training. Now I am alone at home and taking care of Truffle, who is sleeping and having many nightmares. She has tried to walk - and succeeded!

Apparently, she walked the length of my whole sofa, by leaning on the cushions for support. If not, she would fall on her side.

Great improvement!

And I gotta go feed her now. My poor baby.

2009-01-20T03:06:00.003+08:00

Apparently I've gathered my courage to read Francoise and Hansel's story again. As most would've figured by now, I do read two books at one time at times.

This is one of those times (and anyway I'm finishing the Aidan book soon).

Francoise and Hansel are seeing each other practically every other day. On almost every date, they eat at good places, usually coupled with a good round of dessert (which Francoise loves, just like me!).

One day, Hansel said, "Pack your bags, we're going swimming,"

He arrived at twilight, to pick her up from her home. Dinner first at an uptown Italian restaurant by the river, where the gentleman tried to pull out a chair for her, but she said, "The settings are at the other two seats," gesturing at the other two chairs at the table for three, and prompted sat down at the next chair at the table.

Flushed, Hansel went round the table and sat next to her, hoping that the waiter would not notice his bluster.

Francoise hid a smile.

Dinner was a quick affair. "Did you book the whole restaurant for tonight?" she asked. One could hear the crickets chirping as the place was bare. There was only one more European couple at the other corner.

"Of course, my lady. Anything for a romantic night out, given the huge amount of money I earn, since I'm filthy rich," their sarcasm matched each other's.

Dessert was chocolate souffle and warm chocolate cake, the kind that oozed out when you bit into it. The pair of mismatched lovebirds sat side by side on the sofa, watching the world whizz by, each indulged in their own worlds. She was wondering how in the world was she going to swim when there was no sun anymore now that it was nightfall, and he...well, suffice to say he had some thoughts in his mind that could not and would not be disclosed.

He led her to a quaint, small apartment which he introduced as his "second home". It had a beautiful view of the river and the city, yet feel absolutely secluded despite being in the heart of the city. His toilet, however, was so small that no more than two ants' nests could be built in there.

He had stocked the fridge with food for breakfast, and numerous bottles of beer. He had even prepared a toothbrush for her. It was surreal. She could never imagine that a straight guy like him could go to such lengths...

They went swimming the next morning instead.

And then as Francoise was still in a turmoil, in utter confusion at the turn of events (because how could he like a girl like her and she, a guy like him?), sought the advice of her friend, Natalie, who said, "Please don't tell her you're falling for him!!"

Everywhere Francoise turned, whoever she told, it was the same reaction. Like that day at tea with some of her closer friends, the moment she erupted the news that she was "kind of seeing Hansel", there was a pregnant, silent pause.

And then a, "This isn't like you at all," and "Are you sure??" and "He's the same age as you?!?!"

As she expected.

Hansel, on the other hand, was too afraid to tell any of his friends that he was "kind of seeing Francoise", because he feared their criticisms of seeing "a girl like her". She was irresistable, and he could not get enough of her. He did not want to stop seeing her, despite not having fulfilled any qualities of his expectations of a girlfriend. What would his family say?

One day, after a supposedly heated date where the pair discussed commitment issues, (Hansel said he would never see another girl exclusively although they were only friends; Francoise said that all her platonic male friends would remain that way - platonic - and had no qualms on seeing them exclusively "for nothing would ever happen!")

He sent her home on a good note - his patience never allowed him to get fully angry at her, and as long as they were not debating, Francoise was calm waters.

And then, when she was safely back home, came his text, "Oh my goodness...Francoise, I think I may be in love with you,"

Francoise dropped the spoon she was using to gorge her face with ice-cream with, and her cat jumped a mile away.

Her TV blared, "Sunny weather expected tomorrow morning, with dark clouds in the late afternoon, temperatures ranging from..."

She felt as though snow at descended upon her. Unexpected, sudden, cold and smothering her like an icy blanket, freezing her veins to the bone.

How could he be in love with her??

This was only supposed to be a challenge. He was supposed to lose interest after awhile. He was supposed to give up and run away from her, supposed to decide that she could not live up to his expectations and simply move on.

Not fall in love with her!

Not tell her that he had already sacrificed certain parts of his life for her, that he couldn't stand being away from her because he missed her every second that he wasn't with her, not tell her that he loved her scent and it made him giddy with want, not say that he just liked her for who she was, and she did not need to fulfill any of his expectations because she was simply her, and he liked what he saw and what he got.

I too, was shocked at Hansel's revelation. But then again, anything can happen in chick lit. (In Aidan's story, he actually had a child with his ex-girlfriend accidentally and was about to confess to his wife when he died in the car accident)

Anyway, back to Francoise. She texted back after reeling from a 2-minute shock, "Are you hallucinating? Are you delusional? Are u serious?"

And he said, "I think that after all is said and done, after you've met my family and friends, and all the criticisms and 'she's so this and she's so that', I will still want to be with you"

She gaped like a goldfish out of water, unable to breathe. Meeting his family and friends was the last thing she ever wanted. She was afraid. She didn't own a single piece of clothing that was "Meet The Parents"-like. She didn't do sports (they almost got into a quarrel because he wanted her to do sports and she felt pissed because she wasn't skilled at it). She didn't know how to do anything except socialising and dressing up.

Totally not his type, totally not what other people expected his first girlfriend to be.

Now she was dead. So she said, "I need some time. I want to be absolutely certain about it. And I appreciate your coming forth." She didn't add that it frightened her to death.

Sure, she wasn't afraid of commitment. Had the guy been more like her, she would've been with him in a jiffy. But this was Hansel, the guy whom many people looked up to, who preached about goodness and was a one-girl-only man, never had a girlfriend in his LIFE, who was neat, well-mannered, logical, romantic and everything that she was not.

She was just afraid of being committed to him.

She was pretty sure that things would be ruined for him if they joined in this unholy union.

And then I stopped reading. Although it was kind of exciting. But the ending somehow seems as unexpected as the storyline itself, so I'll jump back to Aidan's story for awhile.

I went cycling with Firewire on Sunday. It was a full, busy day for me because after that, I met The Brazilian and the Japanese Brazilian to hang out for awhile. But I'll just post some happy pictures of my cycling trip.

My favourite picture! Which Seishii tried umpteen times to take... in the end the camera was mounted on a Pringles can , which gave the perfect angle!

And a nice group shot!

Dinner at Fish & Co Express, where the food sucks.

The rest of the pictures are obviously on Facebook. Too lazy to upload and upload again. I can't wait to see Firewire again! We had so much fun.

2009-01-16T02:54:00.002+08:00

It's 3am and I should be sleeping, for I have a breakfast appointment in about 7 hours, but for some reason I can't fall asleep. I've immersed myself in (yet another) chick lit book, but it has succeeded in depressing me instead of lifting my spirits (not that I'm already depressed, but before I sleep it's a ritual to curl up with a book for at least one chapter, unless I'm drunk or high on alcohol).

I literally recoiled in shock when I read, just a mere few minutes ago, that the fictitious character in the book had a whirlwind romance and had gotten married to her husband, and that he had died in a car accident, while she escaped unscathed. The worse part was that the book started out fairly okay-ly, and I had assumed that they had merely broken up because of a quarrel or something, because the author wrote the book in reverse order, with the main character healing from her wounds.

But it turns out that she was in denial that he was dead, and kept sending emails and leaving voice messages on his phone (which was never turned on obviously). I had assumed that he was angry with her for 1) cheating on him, 2) lying to him or 3) angry with himself for cheating on her.

I was so worked up by the time it was revealed that he was dead, that I could not bear to read on anymore. I shut the book with a determined, still-in-shock snap, but am going to re-open it just to share my last paragraph:

But now that my back was to the wall, now that it really mattered, I found I didn't know what I believed. I didn't believe Aidan was in heaven. I didn't believe in heaven at all. I didn't even believe in God. I didn't not believe in God either. There was nothing to cling on to.

I got ready for work, I rang his cellphone like I did every morning, then in sudden frustration shrieked to the empty air, "Where are you? Where are you? Where are you???"

That really got to me.

And so here I am, trying to think of the not-so-important stuff in life. Like, in recollection to an earlier conversation with a good buddy of mine, spurred my thoughts on what I've blogged about before, only this time, my thoughts are somewhat deeper - perhaps it comes with age.

Not that I'm freaking old and in mid-life crisis, but I feel old, and I definitely look older than I am.

I can never come to terms with people, especially guys, thinking that I'm 'hot' or 'pretty'. I feel 'pretty' weird when these comments are passed to my face, and even weirder when they are passed behind my back, usually discussed in a group of testosterone and I come to know about it. Or even more surreal when discussed in a group of the same sex as I.

Whenever I walk into a bar or club, or even seconds before I introduce myself to a client, I am conscious of the looks I am given. Somehow, I manage to ignore them all and concentrate on the task ahead, be it to clinch that deal or to ensure I say the right things, or just to get to the other side of the crowded place.

Such acts of ignoring the 'looks' have been instilled in me for years, that I have come to realise that I am now oblivious to the people around me, and only zero in to what I have come to accomplish.

I have gone out with guys who would be so conscious of males or females who were throwing me looks, such that they felt they had to voice it out to console themselves, or to check if I were aware, but many a time, I just sincerely thought people were looking at my companion, or that they were thinking nasty things about me, like "Why is that guy going out with that girl? Total mismatch,"

As it turns out, a casual poll done with various people from various walks of life, of different ages and generations confirmed that common keywords that matched me were "high-maintenance", "difficult to please", "hot", "pretty", "sexy", "out of my league" and "alluring".

And, as Danny puts it, "a good flirt".

In his explanation, by which I was totally confused, he explained that a good flirt often does not know that he or she is flirting, which brings the person's allure up another notch. And the person does it with such ease (as he or she does not know they are even flirting), that the other party feels completely relaxed and comfortable in their presence, but yet unable to cross that invisible boundary, that makes the good flirt even more wanted.

I've most certainly never thought myself in that way. I don't even think I'm pretty for Christ's sakes.

As discussed, guys mostly find me high-maintenance at first look. When they do speak to me, they find me friendly and sociable, and not at all out of their league. That's when they find me alluring, probably because of my unknown 'good flirting', but yet they can't cross the line although they find themselves wanting me. Because they know that I'm unaware of the effect I have on them.

When they don't speak to me, I am left with the high-maintenance and difficult to please tag.

Needless to say, I find these conversations mildly surreal, as though we are discussing another person and I am looking at a crystal globe from a third-party point of view. I couldn't bring myself to believe it, but yet so many different people have said almost the same thing along the same lines.

My friends say I am a confident person, but honestly I don't think so. In fact, I think I am low self-esteem disguised in good makeup skills and nice clothes. I most definitely do not go around waltzing into places thinking, "Look at me, look at me, I am hot!"

That's disgusting.

So imagine my surprise when suddenly, someone breaches the topic of, "You do know that you look like the kind of girl men want to have as a kept girl, to bring around?"

No, I don't.

Although I have voiced jokingly that "to be a mistress is a good lifelong ambition", but honestly, no.

Or, "You do know that one of my friends who saw you that night at ________ those few months ago still remembers your face and said, 'You mean you're talking about Maxine? She's so pretty leh!'"

Honestly I can't bring myself to believe those words were spoken about me, although I would flatteringly accept the compliments and say "Thank You", but I just can't bring myself to take them for real.

I am not someone who belongs in the "skinny" or "slim" catergory of girls, because I always felt myself meaty, sometimes a little too meaty for my own liking. This irks me, but not to the point that I'd give up eating my favourite foods (I derive joy from eating what I want).

So I feel that surrealness creep up on me again when I am complimented on my stomach and how flat it actually looks with slight ab-looking lines in a V shape (I can't even believe this was said to me a few weeks ago), or that someone actually loves my broad shoulders, or that I'm described as voluptuous (which is impossible because I don't even have large boobs), or that my "hands are smooth and small and cute", or that my legs are sexy and "not stick thin".

However, I do know that women feel threatened by me. Perhaps not all, or perhaps it was only my assumption (but I hate assuming things so I had to get opinions to confirm if it were true), but most people I had these "casual, low self-esteem" conversations with thought so too.

I've a good sense of intuition and can read body language pretty well. And I've seen how some women tend to bristle when I'm near, especially when they're with their partners (this is referring to acquaintances, of course my friends don't do such things to me). After the intiial bristling, they choose to either 1) be especially nice to me (keep your enemies close) or 2) treat me coldly.

Usually, and thankfully, they warm up to me after realising that I'm not a threat after all. Luckily for me, I think I have relatively good social skills especially at putting people at ease (otherwise how to make sales?!?!?).

"You make people feel like you're sex in human form," one acquaintance said.

"People just tend to think of sex whenever you're there, especially guys," another said.

"When people know you, you're not at all snobbish nor super high-maintenance, but there's some kind of aura around you that just keeps attracting guys, and making girls feel threatened by you,"

Shell-shocked is not the word, neither is "mildy surprised". Unconvinced would be better, yet not good enough.

It is like the death of Aidan, I can't come to terms with it.

Being described as a "sex kitten", which I take as a compliment because of the "kitten" part, it's like suddenly discovering that I actually had an extra ear that I'd never seen before in my 21 years of life. And I can't believe it was there all this while and I didn't even notice it.

I didn't even notice that people could see this "extra ear" of mine and were talking about it.

And for better or for the worse, that this "extra ear" made me look good to them. Some kind of analogy, but it's the best or the first that I thought of.

While I can't come to terms with it, should I try to accept it? Should I try to change my image to a more virginal one? Or should I just carry on with life continuing to ignore those looks (but yet can't because I already know what people think of me)?

Maybe I should continue reading the book to see what the main character does to accept Aidan's death. But what if she decides to join him and kills herself?
(P.S to Araxes and Claudia who have read the book, please do not give me any spoilers, I am already quite confused)

In a more optimistic light, maybe I should heed my boss' advice and use this skill to my advantage - to get more business for the company. I mean, that's what it's all about isn't it? Sex sells.

Or, I should focus on the people who don't think I'm hot/pretty/sex kittenish! That would be ideal, because I would feel more comfortable in my own skin knowing I'm not all of the above to people.

Some voice in my head just whispered that I'm in denial, but I'm not! I'm not fair, slim, long-haired, long-legged, nice-butted, big-boobed, therefore I cannot be hot/pretty/sex kittenish.

Good.

Suddenly Daniel's voice pops up in my head. "Maybe it's because guys realise that you actually don't think you're hot at all, but you're friendly and cheerful and no-airs-about-you that makes you so alluring!"

Ah shut up.

I'm not fair, slim, long-haired, long-legged, nice-butted, big-boobed, therefore I cannot be hot/pretty/sex kittenish.I'm not fair, slim, long-haired, long-legged, nice-butted, big-boobed, therefore I cannot be hot/pretty/sex kittenish.I'm not fair, slim, long-haired, long-legged, nice-butted, big-boobed, therefore I cannot be hot/pretty/sex kittenish.I'm not fair, slim, long-haired, long-legged, nice-butted, big-boobed, therefore I cannot be hot/pretty/sex kittenish.

Ok now I feel so much better. Once again, my blog has helped me come to terms with not-so-important life situations (or let me remain in self-denial, but either way both is good) and I'd like to say THANK YOU, BLOG!!!

I'm feeling quite hungry now, all raved up for my breakfast appointment! This is a rare opportunity that I'm actually waking up before noon to enjoy the mid-morning fresh air and have breakfast and treat my stomach and intestines to an early feast, so it'd better be good and appreciated.

And I don't feel so depressed from the Aidan book anymore, so I shall go back and have a quick read before I sleep.

ohmygod it's 4:20am!! I hate mornings because I have to worry about getting enough sleep the night before. And usually failing to do so results in an angry me, thus unable to appreciate the morning.

It was you and me, against the world
And you promised me forever more
Was it something that I said
Was it something that I did
Cause I gotta know what made me
Unbeautiful

But the morning that comes later will be a good one. I'm sure of it! Because now I am optimistic and happy, not at all depressed from Aidan's death, and because I shall receive hearty nourishment~

Yay to me and my happy life!

2009-01-15T00:46:00.004+08:00

I'm feeling whimsical today.

I don't want to waste my time on simple little things
I'd rather stay here all the night with everyone who sings

I discovered a book, probably chick lit, and the back cover screamed,

Francoise is a wild child, always craving excitement, playing with fire. One day, through work and a sudden twist of fate, she meets Hansel, an exact opposite of herself. He's focused, fixed on godly moral values and beliefs. She never wanted him, if only for the thrill of the chase.

He falls for her, and they go through a series of crazy ups and downs. Can they make it through their incompatibility and lead Francoise to a (finally) stable, settled-down lifestyle, or will she choose to continue with her way of life?

For some reason, I felt enthralled to the book despite its lacklustre summary. I felt compelled to, probably because I could, in that instant, identify myself with the main character, and partially because I thought that perhaps, I could for once see myself in a chick lit book.

Anyhow, I pored through the book.

Happy boys and happy girls, will be
We are the happy boys and girls
Happy boys and happy girls, will be
So happy, so, so happy

Francoise is a wedding planner, and during one of her highest budgeted weddings, she meets Hansel, the best friend of the groom. He was planning the wedding for the groom with a couple of other good mates. Her first impression of him was that he was shy (he barely spoke to her during their discussions, instead leaving his plans to be vocalised by the other men), and that he was boyishly good-looking.

Her immediate predator instincts went on high, being recently unattached, but for some inate reason, she did not pursue him; her intuition and what was left of her morals told her that he'd be an unwilling participant in her game.

And what was a game without willing players?

And so the wedding was successful. She thought she'd never see him again, and so be it, for he was not in her league.

I'm a barbie girl, in the barbie world
Life in plastic, it's fantastic
You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere
Imagination, life is your creation

However, due to some misunderstandings with the billing of the wedding, Hansel had to keep contacting Francoise as there were problems with the invoice and the groom could not make proper payment.

Week after week, the invoice was rejected and the pair had to consistently meet up to settle the little irritating problems. On one of these days, in her futile attempts to have the problems settled, she decided to drop the invoice at his place as she had no time to meet up with him during office hours.

Francoise drove to Hansel's place, with nothing in her mind but to get this niggling problem off her chest. It was a pure hassle and she wanted to get back home to dinner as soon as possible. She was thinking of David, and when could she get to see him again?

When she arrived at Hansel's place, he was waiting for her. The invoice changed hands and small talk was made. She invited Hansel into her car because she was stopped at the side of the small road and obstructing traffic. Hansel got the wrong idea, because despite being a morally upright man, he was also egoistic, and at that point of time, he had incessant thoughts that Francoise was into him and was trying to seduce him. "What the hell is she trying to do?" he thought. And he had told this fact to his good mates who had helped him at the wedding.

It didn't help that Francoise was in her uniform of ultra short skirts and skimpy tank tops.

Had Francoise known, at that point of time, that she was being misunderstood, not only would she be outraged, but greatly embarrassed at the fact that a bloke was running away from her because he thought she was interested, when she wasn't in the least.

That chapter put me into fits of giggles.

For the next few months, it was almost half a year, without any contact between the pair. Francoise went on her lifestyle of clubs, drinking, smoking and attracting the wrong kind of men, men she would never be interested in seriously. Hansel went on his straight lifestyle of attracting the wrong kind of girls - girls he would always run away from because he felt they were too interested in him - church-going and trying to date a couple of girls with little or no motivation at all.

Francoise's exciting life was interrupted with a hint of commitment when she met Frank, an expatriate from Asia. He was just like her, on the exact wavelength, with boyish looks of acquired taste. But he went back to Vietnam after 2 weeks and communication was stilted. (This reminds me of The Canadian)

Just when Hansel had become a figment of her memory, about to fade, he called her again. Randomly and out of the blue. The scene goes:

Her phone rang. Caller ID screened 'Hansel', flashing on and off. She was having 'me time', lying on her sofa and enjoying the DVD she had popped in.

"Shit," she thought and cursed out loud. "Please do not tell me the invoice is still being rejected,"

Reluctantly, she picked up the call. She put on her professional 'work voice' and hoped she sounded busy.

"Hey, Francoise," that familiar but not-so-familiar voice said from the phone. "Are you busy now?"

"Erm...not really, what's up?" Francoise had resigned to her fate. If it were going to be about work, she would have to do it anyway.

"Well, just wondering if you had time to talk,"

Now that was a surprise. Pausing the DVD, Francoise said cautiously and politely, "I'm just unwinding...this is a surprise. How have you been?"

This could be interesting, she thought. What could he want from me?

The conversation was about nothing in particular, just small talk. She could finally relax.

Over the next few days, Hansel called her frequently. Sometimes, she would forget to return his missed call because she was pre-occupied with her girls or other matters. She learnt to greatly enjoy the nightly conversations with him. Perhaps it was because his calls were always a surprise and she never knew when to expect them.

Mostly, she never thought that he would be calling her.

As she got to know him better, she found it even more intriguing that he would be calling her because 1) he had never had a girlfriend before, hence had never hit homerun, 2) he was extremely religious, 3) why would he even be interested in conversing with a girl like her?

Somewhere in the first quarter of the book, Hansel asks Francoise out. She agrees, partially because it feels like a game to her, an even more exciting one because of the immense change in the type of player, one she has never had before. But also because she feels a deep affinity with Hansel, and wants to deepen the friendship.

Outings with Hansel are carefree and spontaneous. They do things she'd never have done with her own friends, like walk halfway across town just to sing karaoke, never having to ponder and decide on dinner places because they simply waltz into the nearest cafe that fits their appetite.

Then one night, Hansel asks Francoise if he could kiss her.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks with that charming allure that put many young girls on their knees at his feet, but it did not stir Francoise.

Francoise was shocked at his indecent proposal - for do friends kiss each other? Well, it was only at that party where she kissed five of her girlfriends, but even so, that was in drunken stupor. And after all, she did not want to be the one to steal his first kiss.

Well, maybe deep down inside her she did want to continue playing the game, for it would be the ultimate victory. But she cared for him genuinely as a friend and did not want him to regret his actions.

"Are you sure?" she asked. He leaned in and their lips touched. His were soft - he was an okay kisser for a first-timer.

And then...one thing led to another...and -

And because my blog is PG I shall not post anymore R-rated contents of the book here.

Little princess in a terrible mess
A kingdom alone, but no love to confess
Dreams of a prince on a tall white horse
Runs like a spirit by the castle walls

So the deed was done, and now Francoise was left to ponder what would happen next. Wasn't this what she mutely wanted out of everything? That it was just a game and her predator instincts and senses had led her to put on that charming allure that Hansel loved so much.

But the game must go on. She hasn't quite had her fun yet.

After all, why would a guy like him fall for a girl like her?

The next week was a whirlwind of fickle-ness. Hansel, bed-ridden with guilt (due to his proper upbringing), felt that Francoise was interested in him and he could no longer play with her feelings, and decided to call it off.

She was flung. This had never happened in any of her games. Was this what she deserved from dumping too many guys - her bad karma?

The next day, Hansel said, "It was my fear that was talking. I've always liked you, and I guess I was just afraid of commitment, which is why I told you all those lies that I wanted to call it off. But I don't. I really want to be with you. Will you be my girlfriend?"

She was flung. This had never happened in any of her games. She knew she could not be with him because of their massive differences.

Mystery deep in the royal heart
Crying at night, I wanna be apart
Prince, oh prince, are you really sincere?
Bet you one day you're gonna disappear

She said, "I have to think about it,"

The next day, Hansel said, "I'm sorry for everything. I was lying to you when I said I wanted you to be my girlfriend. I just felt so guilty that I felt I had to make it up to you, especially seeing you in front of me. But now I'm totally clear in what I want to say because you're not in front of me, attracting me by just being there, and making me even more guilty. I can't just do that to a girl who I'm not interested in and pretend to like her. I think we should just remain friends. And see what can develop from there,"

Francoise was enraged. She has never been flung around like a doll by men, much less an imbecile who was a first-timer in such games! She spent the next hour acting the part, flaring up at Hansel and giving him a piece of her mind and 'nothing else can possible develop anymore!' in front of her poor girlfriend who had to eat a lonesome dinner while Francoise ranted.

My oh my, do you wanna say goodbye?
To have the Kingdom, baby, tell me why?

Up till this point of time, Francoise had never put much of the happenings to heart.

But Hansel still continued to ask her out. One day he said, "Do you really think I am not interested in you? How could I still go out with you if I didn't like you?"

She doubted his words.

"Do you know why I re-contacted you after so long?" he asked. Although she sensed yet another radical answer, she wanted to know.

"Morgan (one of the best mates at the wedding who helped Hansel plan) came across your personal webpage. I don't know how, but he did. And he showed it to me. That was when I read all your diary entries and got interested. I told myself, 'I had to get to know this girl better',"

She thought she would have a heart attack right there and there. But keeping her cool, she pretended to be aloof and said, "But I didn't even write anything about you there,"

She then contemplated putting a secure pass to her webpage.

Take me to the ocean blue
Let me dive right into
Anything I'll ever capture
You can wait up all night
Waiting for wrong or right
I always knew where I had you

They continued seeing each other, very frequently in fact. So much so that Francoise was questioned by her well-meaning friends - 'friends don't need to see each other every other day'.

And then one day, he said, "I'm so sure that I want to be with you. If you ask me why, I've no answers for you. But you're not the girl I expected to end up with. I guess nobody will ever expect me to fall for a girl like you," Francoise flinches at this. "I've already decided that I want to be with you. If we decide to be together, I know you'll receive alot of criticisms from my friends. Therefore I've decided to make sacrifices already. I've already stepped down from my leadership position in church because this is not what people expect me to do. They don't expect me to be with a girl like you,"

Francoise flinched again. She hated the 'girl like you' tag. She retorted, "I've always wanted to introduce you to my good friend. I think you and her make a very good match. She religious, she's a homely girl, she can do housework better than I - considering I do zilch,"

"So what?" Hansel said with that chuckle of his.

"And you are not the one who'll be getting all the criticisms because of my different lifestyle,"

And this is where I stop reading. I can't bear to flip the pages anymore. I was so absorbed in the book that I allowed my own emotions to flow into the characters. And because I want a fairy tale happy ending, which always happens in chick lit books, somehow this book is different because it seems real.

And real endings are not happy.

We belong to the sea
To the waves you and me
Living in the ocean so blue
We belong to the sea
Open wide being free
A minute everlasting with you
And as soon as it stops
We'll all be a drop
Coming down on your wide open sea
Can you wash me away
Will you dry me one day
Take me to the place where I came from
If I had a open heart
Would you tear that apart
Why do I feel that you're lonesome

My wish for this year is the same as my previous wish. I'm not saying, because that would jinx it.

I remember that my wish for Year 2006 was that I want my life to be like a chick lit book.

And yeah posts of my birthday will be up once I'm not feeling so lazy.

2009-01-13T15:24:00.004+08:00

ARRRGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

I haven't blogged for so long that it's shocking me. Guess I've been busy, and when I'm not busy, I'm out with friends till the wee hours of the morning, and when I'm not doing either of the above, I'm catching up on sleep.

As pointed out by my self-proclaimed blog fan, cum neighbour cum kind friend, my blog is growing cobwebs!!!

I do have alot to say, alot that is on my mind. But I don't know if I'll be able to cram 3 weeks of absence and happenings in my life into one blog entry.

As usual, I'll start in chronological order, with things that happened last year.

Last year. Feels like I really haven't been blogging in months when I say that. -gets nostalgic-

Well, Timbre's soundman Bart gave me a kitten last year (there it is again, that last year nostalgia). I had gone to his house with Agnes and my sister Claudia to pick up the kitten.

Bart's mother was like a salesperson, pitching the sale of a product. "This kitten is a mixed breed. I think she's half-tabby as she has the stripes of a tabby cat, and the long fur and blue eyes of a Siamese cat. Also, her fur is whitish-grey which I think will darken as she grows older,"

I've always wanted a cat with blue eyes and grey fur.

The mother continues, "Well, since I found her outside a Nokia shop, I decided to call her Nokia,"

I baulked at the thought of such a obiang name for such a pretty cat. Like my mum, she called the black cat she brought home "Lucky". I think aunties love obiang names. Luckily my mother was young when she gave birth to me or I'd probably be called something to the equivalent of "Mary".

I resolved to change the kitten's name as soon as she was mine.

The mother also explained the cat's diet and how she de-wormed the cat and found worms in the cat's shit the next day. She said, "I just de-wormed her, so don't be frightened when you see dead worms in her shit tomorrow!"

I was thinking, I'm not even going to look at her shit for Christ's sake.

I gaped in horror when she told me that she locked the cat in the toilet for 7 days just to toilet train it. Poor kitty. No wonder it was so violent. It was running around, biting every possible hand and arm she could ever sink her (sharp) teeth into.

Finally, she decided to give the kitten to me. Without so much as a goodbye to the kitten, she put the kitten into a (horrors) plastic bag and handed it to me.

Thus the closure of a sweet deal.

I was horrified, but the kitten seemed to be perfectly still in the plastic bag which Claudia carried. It seemed to be comfortable.

We even went to River Valley Spize to eat after sending Bart to his office (which coincidentally is at Oxley Road) and the kitten poked its head out of the bag oh-so-cutely!

We ran through a few names - I wanted the cats in my family to all have dessert names, with the exception of The Black Cat which is called Lucky thanks to my mother - and I wanted Souffle, Twix, Hershey's....

But in the end I chose Truffle.

Pretty Truffle!

My mother wanted to annoy me and kept calling the kitten Nokia.

Of course, Truffle spent the first few nights in my room as the other cats were not yet accustomed to her. Despite spending 7 days in a toilet, she knew how to use the litter box within minutes of being put in it.

This cat is extremely playful and naughty. After about a week of staying with my other animals, it began chasing the other cats around. Gentlemanly Cadbury would be all princely and tigerly while she swatted around at his tail, often ending up on top of tiny Truffle in a playful romp.

Bo chup Strudel would let her play with his tail while looking nonchalent.

They often chase each other throughout the house.

It is only black cat Lucky that is still hostile towards Truffle. Actually, Lucky is hostile towards every animal in the house and is only scared of Strudel because he chases her around.

Currently, Junior often snaps at Truffle because he can't stand things that jump onto him suddenly. Truffle bites a little less now, perhaps because we give her more cuddles than beatings like she had at her previous household.

And she loves biting my mother but not me! Kudos to that.

My two white pets feasting

Naughty kitten whose sex is still undetermined, but I think she's a female.

Random picture of Bunny the Rabbit eating cat food.

As expected, I do not have time to blog about anything else because I have to go prepare to meet a friend. But I will be back real soon.

Oh and P.S, if anyone would like to contribute to feeding my animals, i.e buying the occasional cat food or dog food (which essentially is just a packet of rice and some pork or chicken) or gerbil food (but my gerbil also eats dog rice), it would be greatly appreciated.

From the love of my family's heart to the abandoned stray cats and rabbits and gerbils and whichever animal we find abandoned out there, we have taken them under our wing, and for those who are unable to keep a cat or dog but would like to love animals the same way we do, feel free to drop me an email at maxine.mikaeleia@gmail.com if you'd like to pop by or would like to contribute to the upkeep of the animals in my house.

It is just a way of showing that you do care. Animals are not just for cuddling and playing with.

2008-12-15T23:08:00.003+08:00

Currently, I'm not in the best states of minds. Tears are streaming down my face now because my father had drunk all my ice wine. And it's not just any ice wine. It was the ice-wine that I had bought with The Canadian when he was here. We had bought two bottles and drank one bottle, and I was saving the other bottle for my birthday.

Because he can't be here to celebrate it with me.

And that was the only keepsake I was saving, like a part of him would be with me. And whenever I opened my fridge and saw the bottle of ice wine, it was like a mental comfort that he was here with me once upon a time and it was not a dream.

But now my dear father has drunk it ALL. And he had the cheek to ask me, "Can you pour me a glass of ice wine in the fridge? Only three-quarters are remaining,"

I said, "That ice wine is MINE!!"

He still had even more cheek to lie in my face. "You told me last night that I could drink it if I wanted to!"

I had never said that.

"I NEVER SAID YOU COULD DRINK THE ICE-WINE!" I said, my voice under control but I wanted to scream in his face.

I continued to sit on the sofa as Desperate Housewives aired on TV.

I felt that I was breaking down. After the previous night, which I will elaborate on later, I think that my life is breaking into pieces.

My father went into the kitchen and poured the remaining ice-wine into his glass and offered it to me, "Come we share,"

I said, "I don't want it anymore,"

And then I went into the toilet and cried my heart out.

I know I'm angry at my father for drinking the ice-wine that meant so much to me, and enraged because he lied to me and put words in my mouth, and sad because I had lost something that can never be replaced. And also because ... it meant even more to me because I feel that The Canadian and I are becoming further and further apart, not only because of the distance but because of our work schedules and the timezones.

Of course, I still have his shirt and other stuff that belong to him with me, but I still hate my father for doing that to me. And the lying was outrageous.

Although my mother offered to buy another bottle of the expensive ice wine for me to replace the bottle that my father had heartily drank, I don't really care anymore.

I really want to leave this godamnned place. I am so sick of coming back home to a place where I feel used and bossed around and nothing is ever good enough for them.

I just want to leave. I need a way out. May it be because of wanderlust, of wanting to leave badly or in search of a haven where I'm appreciated by family and friends alike. But I may never leave. Simply because I don't have the means to.

Right now, there is only Junior by my side, head on my waist, cuddled up and providing a bundle of comfort. Put your fingers on your forehead in the shape of an "L" right now and point it at me. Yes, the only appreciation and loyalty I ever deserve is from a dog.

But still I am determined to be happy, even if its with a plastic sheet over my face and black lungs due to more cigarettes that will entail very soon.

--

It was a whirlwind weekend. I was doing the Brazilian Embassy event at The Arts House on Thursday night. Having done a replica event months ago, I recognised several familiar faces. When the event ended, I was invited by the Brazilian ambassador to have drinks at his table at Timbre.

I politely refused, saying that I was driving, but the Ambassador insisted that one drink wouldn't hurt. At the table, there was a fashion designer, a Capoeira master, his girlfriend, a Japanese-Brazilian, a Singaporean who owns reknowned Brazilian restaurants here, a yacht proprietor and his wife, two ladies from The Arts House, a couple of other people I wasn't introduced to, and the Ambassador himself.

I decided that a little chat wouldn't hurt (besides it would widen my social network in vital places), and also because Mr Vegetable said he wouldn't be meeting me since I didn't call him back to confirm if we were still meeting (as I was hemming and hawwing whether to stay), so I stayed for a drink.

I already had a super duper strong triple shot Caipirinha earlier on (drank in memory of The Canadian who loves the drink) so I told myself that I would have to know my limits.

I was not the outcast I feared myself to be at the table. I made conversation with everyone and each time I turned my head, I would be pulled into a conversation at some point. I was given a carnation by the fashion designer because she said I "deserved one for being fabulous".

I was invited by the owner of the Brazilian restaurants - one of which I especially like down at Sixth Avenue - to his chain of restaurants, as he told me about his business. Unless I'm going to be loaded in the next few weeks or find someone who's loaded and wants to give me a treat, I think I'll skip.

I was invited to take up Capoeira classes by the Capoeira master who owns a school teaching Capoeira, but me and martial arts somehow don't go together.

The girlfriend of the Capoeira master is a Singaporean girl but she has spent the past 16 years away in Europe and hence speaks with a total accent. I realised how much I appreciate having breasts (even if they're not large or even big for that matter), for reasons I shall not disclose for fear of bad karma.

My attention was constantly sought for the Japanese-Brazilian. We shall call him Suzuki. He was with another rather baby-faced Brazilian. I completely forgot what we were chatting about, but it didn't matter. I noticed that the manner in which the Brazilian spoke was acutely similar to that of the Canadian's - such as words used, tone of voice etc. Even the accents were similar, but blame it on my ignorance - how can Portugese and French accents sound the same? Well yes they both have nasal intonations at some points...but still.

Anyhow, the night ended with the Capoeira master hitting on me while his girlfriend was in the toilet. He said something along the lines of, "You're so hot if I didn't have a girlfriend I would surely want to have you, as compared to my girlfriend, you know?"

I thought that was really demeaning to the girlfriend, but I couldn't and wouldn't tell him off because after all, I was still representing my company. And he continued on and on, filling gaps between his words with winks and sly smiles. Until the girlfriend came back.

I thought I was getting quite good at the air kisses thingy thing that foreigners do when they bid goodbye, two air kisses on each cheek and a half hug kinda thing. I can say I perfected it that night, after bidding everyone goodbye in the same fashion. Needless to say the Capoeira master guy held me in the half hug about two seconds longer than he should have, although his girlfriend was just behind him. And the Brazil restauranteur Singaporean had his arms all over my waist that rendered a cheeky raised eyebrow from one of the staff. Luckily neither of them caught me rolling my eyes discreetly back at the waiter.

Suzuki asked me if I could give him and the Brazil guy a lift back to the Brazilian's condominium. I denied, because I did not want to trouble myself. But at the end of the day, I ran out of excuses (I ran excuses off like smoke out of a billowing chimney)and like being invited to the table, I could find myself no exit out of the whole thing. I could not even make an fast one to the "toilet" because they followed me.

In the end I obliged to save myself the trouble of thinking up more excuses.

In the end, the same thing happened all over again after I dropped them at the condo but they insisted I go up and join them for awhile more and after all, it was only midnight. I was pretty sick of giving excuses that they didn't want to accept.

His condominium and the utilities are fully paid for by the company. For one person, he had three bedrooms. I had another beer, and then a glass of wine on top of the triple shot Caipirinha and Erdinger. And then I was tipsy. Mixing my drinks proved once again to successful but in unforeseen circumstances. How come I'm never tipsy when I want to be?!?!?

Taking advantage of the situation, Suzuki attempted to kiss me while the Brazilian went to the toilet. It was a definite no-go, I wasn't going to oblige this time around. The guy was fishy (in a non Japanese sense - no pun intended) the whole night. I didn't need Capoeira to be able to push him away rather forcefully and head towards the balcony for a smoke. Cigarettes always help as a deterrent.

As I was in no state to drive, I locked myself in a bedroom and slept. Perhaps I was looking for trouble, or if something had happened then people might say I deserved it, but ultimately nothing happened and once again, my intuition was correct.

The next day I was hung over but dragged myself to work as I'd to meet a client. I dreamt of my boss that morning when I tried to catch a few more hours of sleep. I think I'm psychic, because the next day my boss asked me to chauffeur him because his girlfriend had accidentally taken both his car keys and left him with two cars but no keys! Trust Caryn to do such a thing...

My dream was about my boss, his girlfriend and someone else (face not shown) and myself in the backseat of a car. That would be impossible because I would never end up in a backseat of a car with my boss and much less his girlfriend too. Because we all drive (and not any other reason).

But that day, while being in a car with my boss was also quite impossible and rare, it was made possible. Therefore I think I'm psychic. To have dreamt something so remotely close to reality in hungover state.

That day, the Brazilian asked me out. But, as the story goes, I was meeting another acquaintance whom I'd met through Amanda, who works in a bank, that evening. Deferring from the course of events a little, I find it funny that Caryn tried to hook me up with a financial banker that night at SY's wedding, and a few days later, I was introduced to one.

At the wedding, Caryn was going on and on about how good the financial banker would be to me, but when I finally could get a glimpse of his face, I realised he wasn't at all cute nor my type.

And then Amanda came along and brought her cousin to one of our meetups and ta-da, Caryn had her wish fulfilled.

But that day, I was still feeling a little sick for some reason (or maybe lazy or still hungover), so I decided not to meet the banker for dinner. And since drinks with the Brazilian was going to be late, I decided to show up.

I knew he was going to bring friends, and since I was on a roll with expanding my social network ( I had actually hoped to meet some girls like the other night, but to no avail), it suited me fine. So, I met a Swedish guy (super hot, almost model-like) and another Brazilian dude.

We went bar-hopping in Clarke Quay. Needless to say, I was clueless about the place and that made the guys doubt if I were really Singaporean. They joked that I was "too fancy" to come to a simple place like Clarke Quay since I "drive around and don't believe in taking trains". I thought it was funny, because I thought it was the locals that thought that way about the expats instead of the other way around.

But that outing made me realise one thing - I really don't know Singapore. These people know Singapore even better than I do.

When we ordered our beers, all three of them ordered Tigers but I went for a Heineken. And the new Brazilian guy (we'll call him Brazilian II) whom I met were like, "Oh she doesn't drink local beer because it's not good enough...she must go for beers that come from as far as Dutch people go," and the way he said it was so damn funny.

But I really hate Tiger.

We ended up in Pump Room after three bars, by this time the Swedish guy went home because he was tired, and I really enjoyed the music by Jive Talking. Seriously they rock.

I did not get drunk again because all my senses were on super high alert. I went home pretty late because we spent the rest of the night talking about Brazil. Listening to a foreigner talk about their country makes me even more fascinated. Facts like how big their states really are, the massive traffic jams and no trains linking one state to another, the huge difference in climate - like in some parts of Sweden they have 24 hours of sun for a certain period of time! - and that the Brazilians had never seen snow before, was all very fascinating to me.

Also, one of my favourite films Amores Perros (introduced by and watched with ex Mr Oxley Road, but the Brazilian said the title was in Spanish instead of Portugese, which is weird because it takes place in Brazil) I mentioned to the Brazilian and he agreed that such violent natures do happen in Brazil but only in the suburbs and not everyday children are killed.

I could never really and truly believe it but there it is now, a fact of the world, coming from the horse's mouth.

We also talked about drug trafficking that happens, and how people are late for work because of the traffic that takes them 2 hours to get to work although they live in the same city as they work, and he also told me a little about his family and how close he is to his brother, and mostly about random stuff.

The next day it was The Canadian's birthday, but I didn't know what to get him. As we've NOT been talking for 2 months (since he left Singapore on 12th October), not even web-camming, our communication has mostly been emails and texts (which are also getting fewer and fewer). Hence, I decided to call him on his birthday.

I called twice. He did not pick up. I waited an hour for him to return call but he didn't. And this is during the day in his timezone, which is about 3am our time.

Totally pissed, I sent him a long SMS that went along the lines of, "...I don't know why you're not picking up nor returning my calls, but i doubt its cuz you wanna save money on phone bills. ...i guess i no longer matter to you as much as you say i do. as much as i'd like to believe you're still in love with me, i no longer do"

Then I tried to sleep.

Half an hour later he called. And I started crying. For what I have no idea. Relief? Sadness? Happiness?

He apologised (of course) as he was taking a nap for being so tired for working everyday. We talked for about an hour and I was crying and laughing the whole time while managing to sound coherent and carry on a proper conversation.

I told him about some of my friends who had wished him a happy birthday on his Facebook (he hadn't checked yet due to time difference) and he could remember them so clearly. I thought he would've forgotten, but Abelyn should be happy to know that she's very remembered, because the moment I mentioned her name, he was like, "Oh we went to Chinatown to eat porridge right?"

And I think I've been crying alot lately. Must be PMS.

2008-12-10T00:10:00.002+08:00

My poor car was sent in for repair twice, once because I put leopard print cloth on the dashboard and behind the backseats, and my dad drove on Sunday to church, and claimed that because of my leopard print cloth, his visibility was reduced by 50%, and therefore, knocked into a kerb.

Now, my beautiful leopard print cloth is chucked in the boot, unwanted. Sigh. I am a P-plate and nothing is wrong with my driving with leopard print cloths. I guess I'll decorate the car seats with the cloth from Monday till Saturday, and come Sunday, put it in the boot for Dad to drive to church.

I know. Leopard prints aren't holy enough for church!

The day after we got the car back from the repairs, mum and I went shopping for my birthday present given by grandma. She asked me to pick out some gold earrings for myself. Which I couldn't find any that suited my taste. Will call her soon to increase budget.

So we went to Plaza Singapura, and were entering the carpark when a bloody old man - I hate old men, I seriously don't think they should be allowed on the roads once above 60 - tried to cut into my RIGHT lane and hit my newly changed bumper!!!!

Although I was horning at him like nobody's business and I was in the RIGHT lane, almost kissing the butt of the car in front, he still tried to cut in from his LEFT lane the motherfucker.

I was enraged.

We stopped our cars at the side of the road and got out - Girl VS Old Man.

I hollered, "HOW CAN YOU CUT INTO MY LANE WHEN I'M ALREADY MOVING FORWARD?!?!?"

He said, "YOU SHOULD GIVE WAY TO ME!"

I said, "EXCUSE ME, I'M IN THE RIGHT LANE, WHY SHOULD I GIVE WAY TO YOU? DON'T THINK THAT JUST BECAUSE YOU SEE A P-PLATE MEANS MUST GIVE WAY TO YOU HOR,"

Then, my mother came out of the car and the old man's wife/partner/friend came out and started shouting at my mother. They had a shouting fest.

The old man then said with a super pek cek face, "Never mind, don't need talk so much, just claim insurance!"

I demanded for his name and particulars, and went to report the accident the next day.

Who knew, the bloody old man said that it was I who knocked into his back! And in cases like this, the insurance won't let me claim from his insurance because there're two different stories and no witnesses.

My mother said, "How can the stupid old man lie like that? Curse him take medicine for the rest of his life,"

I said, "You'll get bad karma. At least I just said he shouldn't be allowed to drive,"

My mother continued cursing the old man, "Stupid Cantonese fella, one look at his face and I know he's not any good thing,"

I agreed silently, hoping that if I didn't say it out, I wouldn't get bad karma. I also thought that he should be punished for making my insurance premiums skyhigh next year, and for making me drive a horrible Nissan Sunny for like, 3 days.

ARGH I hate old men. Road hoggers, blatant bullies.

Next thing I wanna complain about is the boring clubbing experiences I've been having at Phuture these days.

When we arrived at the club at 8:50pm, aka bloody early, it was chocked full with youngsters, until we had to walk on the road, past the uber long queues which were worst than being in Orchard Road on Christmas Eve. We had to stand side by side, thanks to the barricades and the loud bouncer who kept yelling at everyone to stop cutting queue and to get off the road.

Obviously we cut into the queue and squeezed till 9:30pm, when the queue started moving.

One observation is the number of young kids!! I realise that my sister, who is born in 1990 can legally enter clubs now (but doesn't), and I realised that all the youngsters there were her age! Or around there.

We felt old. Like, had we got picked up by a guy at the club and we get talking and he says, "Well, I'm 18 this year, you??"

Think I'll just die.

But of course, none of the above happened because it was just so boring. Even having an 18-year-old pick us old ladies up would've been a good laugh at the prata shop, but no. We weren't even deserving.

For the millionth time, Andrew Chow sucks. The music wasn't danceable, the crowd was horrible (no cute guys) and I only had two glasses of white wine.

So we went to Zouk, but the number of people there was horrifying, the air-conditioner seemed like it wasn't working, and so we fluttered hurriedly back to Phuture.

The most eligible place seemed to be the smoking area. I saw my neighbour there, the last time seeing him was at a gay party when I was with my ipod pea Alex. At that time he had moved out of Serangoon to live with his friend but now had moved back to Serangoon.

Glad the cute neighbour is back. Used to make it on time to work at Bates because of him. Because we took the same bus!

"So do you still take 133 to work?" he asked.

"No...now I drive to timbre, different working place too,"

"So do I! I don't think I can take a bus anymore" said he.

My sentiments exactly.

Also saw my client, the navy diver, there again. Avid clubber. The other client from NDU whom I thought was cute has been calling me every two nights or so. I realise that he's a devout Christian who says no to pre-marital sex, which kinda makes me shudder, but we do have fun on the phone because he's funny and entertaining, not to mention we have to keep a secret from his platoon mate who is my poly mate.

I think the single people at my birthday party should have a good time on 31st December. I may have a good mix of good looking people there. Not to mention that the theme is totally Gossip Girls and Scandalous Boys.

For those who haven't been invited but wanna gatecrash, it's at Mount Faber's Faber Point. My door bitch will greet you.

And so after Zouk/Phuture, I headed to Dbl O the next night. It was a friend's birthday, so my bodyguard and I headed down. Having Shafik as my bodyguard works wonders when I go clubbing, because he really looks the look.

Not to mention the place was infested with M&Ms (Mats and Minahs), but hell, the music was darn good!! Take that, Andrew.

Yet, the crowd was....ugh. I saw a cute Mat though. He was eyeing me too, but I have given up on my Mat days since Devil's Bar with JV, and Shafik helped by looking the part of my bodyguard.

So my birthday friend brought two guy friends, and we all went to the dancefloor. I thought Shafik was with me but he wasn't, somehow I lost him in the crowd, so I ended up alone on the stage dancing with the two fellas, one of whom I met at the MCR concert last year.

It's a small, small world.

I immediately felt like going back to the table because the two of them started sandwiching me in a grind. I said, "Er, I think I better go back,"

"What, so fast? Not even one song!"

And I was pulled back and besides, I couldn't step into the crowd below me because it was packed. Sorry, my Canadian, I'm sure you'll understand my difficulties.

When I finally managed to wriggle from the duo and back to my bodyguard, he said, "I knew when you went there alone sure kena something one,"

I said, "Then why didn't you come with me!"

He said, "Then who take care of table?"

That night, he was body checked by the bouncer, diao-ed by M&Ms, picked up by a bisexual ang moh who tried to pick me up and failed, then tried to pick Shafik up.

In the end, the birthday boy had to escort his drunk female friend out of Dbl O, whom we found sprawled on the table in her short tube dress, indecently exposed.

Me, being the only girl there tried to use my jacket to cover her ass, but she proceeded to sit up, hence opening her legs wide open, baring to all the guys present.

I was thinking, "My god, can't you wear nicer underwear!?"

And besides, I seriously doubted that she was drunk as she could recite numbers and her camera model.

Her best friend (male) came and cartered her away, still exposing everything for everyone to see, to his house, where all the guys gathered.

My bodyguard and I had totally no mood to carry on the lousy night, tainted with our disgust, and headed to Newton to meet Irene and Thomas for supper.

Two nights, utter boring clubbing.

At least pieces of my party are being pieced together slowly. I bought the glowing stirrers for my bartender! I hope nothing cocks up.

2008-11-27T16:50:00.006+08:00

A little bird told me a piece of exciting news.

The little bird said, "I have exciting news for you," and I said, "What news,"

"It involves someone you know. Four letters," In a not-so-jiffy jiffy, I guessed it was Mr Four Letter Word.

"He has a girlfriend. And the girlfriend is also someone you know. Older than you, from CCHSM,"

"Who?" I asked, quite lazy to guess, although the name that popped out in my mind first was "Marilyn".

"Meiyi lor,"

"WHAT!??!!?!?!??!?!?!?!!!!!!!!!" At this moment, I should've jammed my brakes and flew out of the windscreen, but that didn't happen. Instead, I merely continued driving calmly through Geylang.

"The Meiyi who sell underwear on her blog one!?!?" I gasped. "The ah lian??"

"Er..apparently the sell underwear thing on her blog is someone who hacked in and posted it," the little bird said.

"I can't believe it," I said, really calmly, because I couldn't allow myself to go into shock-mode or I would've killed both me and the little bird via a car accident.

Mr Four Letter Word has not been calling me ever since The Canadian arrived in Singapore and left. He had always been skeptical about my dalliances with The Canadian, and told me not to put any high hopes on meeting him.

And that was the last I've heard of him.

To think that he has spent the last month and a half finding a girlfriend! I wonder if she's the one who he leaves supper for at her doorstep?

Obviously I'm happy for him. He has once (or twice) said that I'm different from other girls because I was never interested in him that way and hence, never ended up his girlfriend despite our dalliances.

Mostly because I think I think like a man.

Despite spending time together, he'd also tell me about girl he was interested in and how frustrated he'd feel, but honestly, I never in my life expected him to get together with his current.

I also read about how other people in their social circle think they won't be together very long, but I always hope that couples should last as long as they should. (Because I'm scared of getting bad karma) Had I known, I should've introduced Mr Four Letter Word and maybe even his beau to The Canadian, as suggested by Mr Four Letter Word. But at that time, I thought it was wiser to keep my flings away from any current relationship.

To Mr Four Letter Word, should you see this, please contact me and fill me in with the juicy stuff I wanna hear from the horse's mouth. I'm too lazy to text you (and I don't want anything against me lest there's evidence) and I don't see you online anymore (too busy in the nights now right????LOL).

Now on to my KL trip.

Morning coach, 7am.

This coach is not bad, there's still massage function in the seats! Obviously, we're very tired though the DVD shown was not bad - Grid Iron Gang.

We were also super hungry because we're not breakfast people (usually still sleeping at 7am) thus didn't eat breakfast, and there was NO FOOD on any of the stopovers. We starved for 8 hours before having our first real meal.

Not to mention the check-in at the Hotel (Radius International) was bloody slow (welcome to Malaysia) and the service seriously sucks. I got so angry and pissed that I went to sulk at the sofa with my cigarette. Couldn't stand looking at that guy's BLAH face any longer.

A hungry woman is indeed an angry woman.

We went to the famous Food Street to fill our poor stomachs. Even the act of searching for food was drawn out because we couldn't decide where to eat.

I ate Bak Kut Teh. It was damn good and expensive too.

These are the guys' funny faces.

A green man on the street.

We went shopping after that. I can't remember exactly what I bought, but I remember buying fishnet stockings!

The guys were having a pillow fight - target: Howa.

Everyone was pretty tired due to the long coach ride but the girls wanted to go clubbing. After a hearty Thai dinner,

Chung imitating Val's smile.

we managed to drag the nua guys out to the clubs.

Camwhoring all the way out into the corridor of our room

We walked to the clubs.

I've never walked to a club before.

There was this club

and that club

and alot of other clubs, but we couldn't get into ANY. Because the girls didn't bring their ID. And all clubs are above 21.

I remember yelling to the nua guys in their hotel room, "ARE YOU ALL BRINGING YOUR IDENTIFICATION!??" and they said, "Nooooo...."

And when we arrive at the door of the clubs, all of them had their ICs.

And made us look very bad because we were the ones who wanted to club, didn't bring IC, and hence couldn't go in.

We ended up in a Thai club!!!! Horror of horrors.

The DJ sucked because he kept talking into the mic while people wanted to dance to the music. Well, I'm not sure if the Malaysians minded because they seemed to be very happy, but I certainly was pissed (again).

Yingzhong's funny face.

We played some funny clap clap scissors paper stone game and five ten.

Luckily the guys seemed to enjoy themselves then. Chung was the only one who wanted to club, and even then, he wanted to go to Sunway. We should have gone to Sunway, since we're rarely at KL, but perhaps it was good we didn't go or we'd be far away from our hotel, bounced out from clubs.

Desmond was sick and Howa doesn't like clubbing. Yingzhong seemed neutral.

We danced on the stage (probably the only time we will since it's almost impossible that we'd do that in Singapore) but it wasn't really a dance. More of making rude faces at the DJ for playing suckily.

We went back early, I think around 1 plus am. I can't really remember.

We decided to suck the dirt outta our faces with Val's Kose mask.

The guys were coming in and outta our room but they didn't seem scared by our masks greeting them at the door, unlike those typical commercials.

When it was time to peel off the mask, Agnes was howling like a banshee. "DAMN PAIN!!! DAMN PAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wah I'm gonna die!!!"

My mask was still drying so I said, "Pain meh, not supposed to be pain what,"

I don't know what was so painful about the mask, or maybe my skin is thick, but I peeled it off effortlessly and certainly mutedly.

We went to bed after smoking in bed.

The morning routine would be that Val would wake up the earliest, followed by me and then Agnes. In order of who takes the longest to prepare. Those boys are damn nua, we always have to go over and holler at them to prepare quickly.

Our measly breakfast at the hotel. We sat separately because each room only allows 2 people but we had 7 in all.

We then trooped to somewhere, I think its another shopping mall.

The 3 cool dudes.

One more cool, sullen dude.

Manhunt. HAHAHA.

We went shopping again. Bought some fake vampire teeth from this joke/trick shop.

Tried on some orange hair - so not my colour.

Then we went to a fish spa that was splat right in the middle of the shopping mall. How come Singapore does not have such things? Instead we have to travel to bloody LIM CHU KANG just for some fish to bite dead skin off our feet.

Me: Why your feet so much dead skin?

Agnes: Cuz mine is the favourite of all the fish.

Because the boys and girls split up to do shopping, we attempted to look for them. The stupid shopping mall is so huge (forgot whats the name of the mall) and we went from 5th floor to 1st floor to Basement to 3rd floor back to 1st floor BUT STILL COULDN"T FIND THEM!!!

It was infuriating. Turned out that they kept changing location because they couldn't see us.

Yes..so we shopped a bit more though we told them that we'd meet them at the specified place (i.e Subway on Level 3) but they can call me when they're going to leave so we wouldn't need to hunt up and down and lost birds...

In the end we found them in a Hong Kong restaurant eating.

The hair clips I'd bought - 3 for RM 10 damn cheap! And bejeweled too.

The boys went to flirt up some girls.

And Howa felt sick, so the boys went back to the hotel room to nua and sleep. We slacked at Starbuck's.

And then it started raining, so we couldn't go to KLCC as planned. We went back to the hotel ourselves and tiptoed past the boys' room because we didn't want the boys to know we were back. We wanted them to get worried that we were lost after 5 hours of not calling them.

Obviously, they were not at all worried and we had to call them to wake up and eat dinner.

-.-"

While they got ready (they take damn long) we camwhored (again).

We went to Chinatown (finally a proper sightseeing place) for dinner.

My vampire teeth which I left on the hotel toilet sink and forgot to bring back.

Yah looks damn cui luckily I didn't bring it back also.

Then, we tried on the stuff we bought.

The boys gaying around after their nap.

We walked to the train station and took a train to Chinatown.

Yingzhong's funny face.

Howa seemed to have turned gay after his medication and nap.

Our fantastic feast. It was quite nice and the la las were one sided! They removed the other half of the empty shell.

The only group shot we have on that trip.

PLEASE NO RUBBISH...PLEASE....

We shopped around at Chinatown where it was fake goods galore!! Went back to the hotel, wanted to have a massage, but Howa and Chung said that the hotel spa has alot of leery old men...

I was flu-ey and sick and in not much mood to do anything but sleep. Howa, Chung and Yingzhong went out for supper, and Desmond came over to our room.

We thought the 3 guys went to look for the "girls of the night" but instead, they had crept back into their rooms by 2am and were fast asleep!

I asked them the next morning, "Why didn't you come over to join Desmond in our room?"

Howa said, "I heard you all laughing so happily, didn't wanna disturb mah..."

I assume the "laughing happily" part was the only time we laughed happily AND loudly, when we were smoking in bed, and Agnes said, "Eh your cigarette smoke flying into my face leh, damn irritating, I cannot breathe!!"

I said, "I can't help it the smoke choose to flow there mah...Wah this stupid smoke going into my eye leh super pain!!!"

Desmond, "AIYAH SMOKE ONE CIGARETTE ALSO SO MUCH PROBLEM, DON'T SMOKE LAH!!!"

Somehow it was very very funny.

Poor Howa, YZ and Chung. They were maligned by us, thinking that they went out to.............

when they were actually fast asleep like good boys.

And we were actually worried that they'd get mugged on the streets! But somehow neither of us went to the other room to check. Desmond slept in our room that night.

The coach ride back was way faster than it was going up. I was still sick, and it was raining, and the water kept dripping onto us in the bus! Damn suay.

That was the end of our short trip. Although I don't think much of Malaysia, but I read about this place where its like in the middle of a jungle where can ride on elephants and row boats on the river...seems more fun than the cities.

And last of all, I would like to express my feelings about an ex-colleague who has just passed away two days ago.

When I was still a server at Timbre, Wai Leng worked with me on shifts. She was always boisterous, and I remember asking her the first time I met her, "Are you a malay or chinese?"

Funny that line coming from me, when I receive it almost everyday. She spoke with a Malay accent hence I asked. After that, I quit briefly to do my internship and when I came back she was a kitchen staff.

I saw her whenever I had my events and functions and one day she quit the kitchen to work in NYDC.

And the last I heard of her was that she was dead. Motorbike accident. I felt weird, a little detached, because she was a little more than an acquaintance, and as always, her death was sudden.

And as always, I'd like to say "Rest in peace,"

-*~`*what do i want..*`~*-

A Large Chapter - Closed

Hello, Hello Kitty!

-~`what do i want..`~-