Archive for ◊ April, 2005 ◊

• Saturday, April 30th, 2005

STRANDED

My head hurts.

I feel nauseated.

I am stranded somewhere on the intimidating streets of my home country.

Without keys. Without local currencies. In a cybercafe which is already closed an hour and half ago.

I am at the risk of being thrown out any second from now.

My handphone low on power.

I called almost anyone I could think of for help.

I am quite helpless actually.

The nagging headache is killing me and I am squinting my eyes as I type this cos the squeeze to my head is a tad hard to handle.

Tonight is one bizzare night.

I don’t want to go through all these trauma again.

I will have to stay in Malaysia for the whole of next week, I suppose.

As much as I feel miserable right now…

Today has been fabulous.

With the amazing friends I have, the people offering their help.

And it could have been better if I haven’t been a complete doofus. I remembered my handphone number wrongly.

So, I missed his call.

Bleah.

Anyway, I can’t concentrate.

Thank God the nice people here allow me to stay here to continue using the computer here.

As much as I would love to make use of the time I have in hand to do a recap on yesterday’s happenings, I can’t cos I have yet to edit the pictures yet.

It was a fruitful yesterday for me.

Albeit a nauseated one for me.

I will be put off the Invertor for a long, long while.

Argh. My head is too heavy for any serious blogging.

Will someone rescue me, quick?

Category: General  | 16 Comments
• Thursday, April 28th, 2005

FAT ASS

Darn.

Though I had slimmed down a little, I realised it’s still an impossible task for me to squeeze into my pair of Levi’s.

Problem is, as much as my waist is back to its glorious 24 inches days, my blardy fat arse had not shrunk to what it should have been.

And the blardy good deal?

I am gonna for a shoot tomorrow and I am certainly not looking my best.

Gotta wake up at 6am, and what am I still doing here?

I am supposed to be in jeans and I COULD NOT BUTTON IT UP AT ALL!

No, my blardy waist is not the culprit. It’s a super-super-low jeans.

MY ARSE IS!

This time, however I frolicked all over my bed, huffing and puffing to button it up, it just wouldn’t submit to my thick mass.

I am sinking into depression. Really am.

*SULKS*

SO HOW TOMORROW?? I HAVE NO JEANS FOR MY SHOOT!

BOOHOO.

Darn. I am sounding as childish informal as Janice these days.

And I am supposed to rest early cos my delicate skin would sure break out in rashes, erupt into red patches if I don’t my 8 hours of beauty sleep.

And I have to wake up at freaking 6am to reach Pasir Ris at 7am!!

Lord, why do you have to torment me this way?!

And I only have one freaking day to be in Singapore, and have to return to Johor on Friday.

I am so, so, so devastated.

Anyway, I should make this a short one.

Before I go on, may I plead with you guys that DO NOT ABANDON MY SITE AFTER THIS ENTRY.

PROMISE?

Alrighty!

Remember Roberto?

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Yeah yeah.

The scorching HOTTTTTTTTTT one. *Ting wipes the drool away from the corner of her mouth*

Tell me you haven’t got enough of him.

Okay, you don’t need to, but I supposed, yah, I have yet to get enough of him either.

You see, I got so forlorn over him that I wonder why can’t every guy be like him.

The poise, the class, the charisma, the pair of eyes that shagged the camera so effortlessly.

So I deduced one Roberto is not enough.

I mean, which guy doesn’t want to look like him, be like him, carry himself like Rob?

And which girl doesn’t want a freaking, blardy, horrifyingly sexy boyfriend like Rob?

And seems like most of the ladies who read me almost orgasm from looking into his eyes, just by pictures along.

So for the benefits of you ladies, I shall present more of Rob to you.

Get some tissues ready, peepz. It will come in handy.

No, not THAT, you sleazeballs! What have you guys been feeding on to cause such filth in the brain?

For the drool. Or whatever else.

Ladies and gentleman, more of *drums roll* Roberto!

*Endless anticipation*

*Sweaty palms*

*Accelerating heartbeat*

*Blushing cheeks*

*Rising body temperature*

*Biting lower lip*

Tell me to stop teasing you, and I just might.

I am such a blog flirt isn’t it?

Oh well, here you go.

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

*TADANG*

Everybody does a Rob!

I cloned Roberto!

There’s now *cough* 3 of him!

Don’t they all look the same?

Shut up, of course they do!

Don’t try to convince me otherwise, you jealous pricks!

Mmmm….. it’s not hard to be Rob, isn’t it?

Hello, don’t tell me you can’t see the resemblances!

The similarities are uncanny!

Dead ringers for Roberto!

Just that they are the localised versions. Well, you can’t expect locals to look exactly the same as Spanish, right?

So, yup, the *cough* X-factor is there, is what matters most.

So, wouldn’t it be such a blessed little treat if Janice and I could be sandwiched by 3 Robertos?

Hurhurhur.

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Ahhhhhhh…. I could feel the wrath and jealousy of all women in the entire galaxy upon us.

What bliss.

What lucky bitches, you say.

Of course we are!

Don’t hate us just because you can’t get what we have. *sneer*

And would you like to see what you are missing?

Remember how I mentioned Roberto did some modelling shots and his portfolio was shown on national television.

Yup, the one of him in briefs only. Naked top.

Absolutely droolsome. Lean and sleek.

I finally, manage to get hold of that picture, and duplicate it onto my site!

But, since this is good, clean family read, please view it at your own discretion.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Roberto, HALF NUDE.

(Yes my dear, you have to click on the above link to access to it, you idiot!)

Okay.

Er, yup. So, that’s Roberto(s) flanking Eddy.

How much breakfast/lunch/tea/dinner/supper had you injest out of your system?

I am sorry I would not be held responsible if Bulimia is catching up with ya.

Quick, thank me for the eye-feast for today.

I sacrifice my sleep for this, alright?

Okay, freak, I need to hit the sack now.

Hope I will have ample pictures to decorate my next entry with!

Good.

And, don’t twist my intention cos whatever posted here is in the name of good fun.

Fun, laughter, peace and joy.

So I definitely am not trying to be mean.

Don’t read too much into it, cos no egos are hurt in the process of producing this blog.

Or so, I deem.

And cross my heart, the title’s reference is to me, and only me.

Serious.

Category: General  | 25 Comments
• Wednesday, April 27th, 2005

MOMMY WANTS AN ANGMOH SON-IN-LAW

Yes yes, I heard you for the 473557534th time.

Roberto is freaking, sizzlingly gorgeous and I will try to get a picture of his incredibly perky arse to satisfy the sleaze lust curiosity of you ladies.

It’s funny how people are conveniently making use of MSN windows as comment boxes nowadays.

‘Roberto is soooooooooo cuteeeeeeeeee. Bring me with ya next time!!!’

‘Who is THAT in your blog?! Oh MY GOD! He is freaking gorgeous can?!’

Yah, you get the picture.

I wish he is mine too. But most probably I will end up wallow in my low self-esteem and insecurities that I won’t survive 24 hours with him. Muahahaha.

Janice and I thought of putting our ex-boyfriends’s pictures right next to him, and we decided it was a tad too cruel to do so.

Cruel to you guys. I mean, you guys would be indecisive over where to focus your attention on yuh?

It always happens when you have people of equal charm side by side.

I am so kind that I awe myself at times.

Despite having ample time to recuperate from Saturday’s intense partying, I didn’t get to rest much for the past couple of days.

My body simply refused to rest.

In fact, I survived on barely 3 hours of sleep today.

I could feel every single cell falling apart.

Not that I had been out anyway. In fact, I lounged out on my bed, watching endless television shows, and swooning over Gary Sinise in CSI: New York.

I don’t know how, but I seemed to be really occupied for the past couple of days, with nothing.

Bleah.

Anyway, this post is gonna be about Caucasians, caucasians, and more caucasians.

I am quite bored actually, and don’t quite have much stuffs to blog about.

So, yah *twiddles fingers*, a random topic, since everything seems to link together and falls into place these couple of days.

Ladies and gentlemen, get yourself a world map, or well, there’s always online versions(interactive somemore, yay!) to guide you along.

***

Am on MSN with Janice, Claris, Gracie, Raf and….. Mr KG.

Having a few heavy talks at the same time is not healthy, yet can be a good outlet to release a lot of the pent-up frustrations which I had shunned for the longest time.

It’s weird how I could be readily open to the 4 ladies, yet the evasiveness from the in-my-opinion-more-erratic-than-yours-truly man(bleah, how could he say I am erratic when he himself is … &*@^#%@#%@ worse) can caused such total chaos within.

I am morphing into a clam, too.

I wish I could just be upfront with him for once, and spit direct thoughts into his face.

Is it even such huge a hassle for you to try to know me as an individual, a friend? All I ask for is that wee bit of understanding.

*deep breath in*

Can someone just murder him or something.

Erm, no. Kill me would be a better option.

Hm. I know what. Just silence the 2 of us together.

*ROARRRRRRRRR*

There, in a corner, a gigantic chest sits.

Elaborated carvings adorned the exterior, yet it is a lonesome figure, isolated in the darkest spot in the room.

The 4 girls each unwaringly holds the key that could readily access them to every element that is stored in that trunk, unlocking every secret within.

Yet, there was someone else, who holds the key too.

The only time he unlocked it, was to carelessly dump the scattered memories which were strewn all over the floor into it.

He then sat himself on the chest, but was never curious what was within the chest.

Perhaps he never realised, he was sitting on the most fragile memories, and adding on the bulk of weight to the exhausted chest.

***

I squealed in delight when I opened my email-box to find an unexpected mail.

From…

*drums roll*

MAX BIAGGI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*hyperventilating*

He was really sweet in his short mail and ended it off by saying he hoped to see me in China, or that I could follow him(*eyes widen*) which of course I couldn’t possible go.

Weird thing is, my parents were in Genting the previous time they were in Kuala Lumpur. Today, they just flew off to China when the riders are actually in China, too.

I hope they are not closeted MotoGP fans and intentionally omit me out of their trip.

I must be nicest daughter around.

I was contemplating of either clubbing my dad or my mum to take over the ticket to China.

I couldn’t make up my mind before the flight took off and thus, my ploy failed.

So there, an Italian.

***

Quite quaintly, and coincidentally, I have two other Italian friends getting in touch with me over MSN(their hectic schedules means MSN appearances are pretty rare) too.

Whee! Can someone fly the Italian flag for me?

Paolo was online today and we had a brief chat over MSN and covered topics on the coming MotoGP races in Europe

The sweetie is gonna celebrate his birthday with a big bash in June.

Aww.. how I wish I could be there too.

Paolo is a great pal I got acquainted with, and took very good care of us during our trip to Kuala Lumpur in January.

Pepe was online last night, and it was great catching up with him, gossiping about other riders(now I know who he doesn’t enjoy working with! Ha!), and asking him to keep a lookout for me if there’s any vacancies for personal assistants among the riders.

Pepe, too, is an Italian, who is actually Alex Barros’ personal assistant for eons.

He is a really amazing fatherly figure, who takes care of the slightest detail, and an unassuming man.

I don’t know how the conversation took a turn, but it broached on topics on the countless number of people they meet all over the world.

I am pretty surprised how he is so generous with his friendship to a common lass like me.

He quoted examples of the tiny gestures and responses I gave when situations arose to illustrate why he feels I am a friend worth keeping.

Frankly, I don’t even recall some of the things I did, and yet his sensitivity to details was quick to pick things up.

How interesting.

***

An acquaintance was chatting to me over MSN yesterday(yes yes, my life revolves around MSN, can?), and suddenly enquired my age, yet again.

His response?

Not young anymore, bio-clock ticking. Don’t you think you should get married soon?

Thanks. *roll eyes*

Not that I am offended, just that I feel.. ARGHHH to be reminded of that.

And I certainly don’t see myself getting attached in near future, so how can I even get married?!?!?!

And if I am not wrong, he recently got a divorce… so…. hmmm.. *ponder*

***

Janice was surfing Attica’s website’s gallery when she saw a picture of David.

Er, no, not the Operational fortheumpteenthtimedoesnothavethehotsforTing Manager, but the one from London.

The skinny butnotveryskinny latte guy.

*SMITTEN* *GIGGLE*

He is not what you would deem gorgeous.

Put him beside the Spanish, and, and, and… erm, actually, there isn’t even room for comparisons!

But, he’s the kind that I could just look at, and smile to myself contendedly, like a lovestruck teenager.

In fact, he’s slightly fleshy and is a very plain-looking bloke.

Butbutbutbutbutbut I am just so smitten by him.

Coe he gives people a very comfortable, very genuine feel. Harmless, and tame.

Awfully sweet too.

Andandandand he did psychology in Bradford University, which in my area of interest.

And he’s in the advertising industry which means he’s creative..

I like!

I stared at the picture and giggled. I went into a little frenzy and I am so darn sure I blushed or something.

SOOO CUTEEEEEEE…

***

Something’s really wrong with Gmail.

I hope it is not on its path to suckiness.

I sent out a few emails last Friday, and have gotten absolutely no responses from people who normally would.

I thought there was some conspiracies going on and everyone forsaken me all of sudden.

Mr Sydney who had wanted to whisk me away for a trip emailed me today and said he thought I had ignored him.

Mr attention-seeking SNAG who wants to be mentioned as frequent as possible(eh, talk about being privileged! You’re the only local guy mentioned here, alright!), also insisted I failed to reply and was the last to cut off the communications.

So what happened too all my mails?! Vanished into the 4th dimension or something?

Puzzling.

***
Honestly, I am still someone who prefers local men than Caucasians.

They seem to be more real, less hairy and less intimidating.

And I can litter my imperfect English with local lingoes and they would understand me perfectly.

I used to be really adamant that I would not end up with a white.

But, darn *sheepish*, my stand swayed a little recently.

Anyway, that aside, I had a hilarious conversation with my parents, when they were waiting to board their flight for China.

It is actually quite a sad conversation too, depending how you want to look at it.

Dad rattled on some stuffs before passing on the phone to my mum.

Blarblarblarblarblar, and the topic was brought on to going overseas.

I whined about how I want to go overseas for a break too, preferably, Italy.

(Conversation below was translated from Chinese)

‘You want to go there to work huh?’
‘Huh? No la, I need a holiday’
‘Why not there work or something.’
Ah? I don’t even know Italian.’

I was already laughing, amused by my mum’s candidness.

Suddenly her tone turned serious.

Good what, I tell you what. Go there, then find yourself a husband. Don’t wait already, quickly go there, find one, marry there.’

‘WHAT?!’

‘Then I can go over there also.’

Thinking she was in one of her kooky mood, I laughed hysterically at the absurdity of her suggestion.

‘Not bad what! Why are you laughing? Get yourself an Italian or something, go there get married. Caucasians not bad, you know. Englishmen also can, French.. ‘

Italians. Wooooo! Sexy! I really wouldn’t mind.

Englishmen? OF COURSE DON’T MIND! *cough* Alan.. *cough* Vyers.. *cough* David..

I found it rather weird she was not raising her pitch and was saying it cool and calm.

Caucasians, Singapore also got a lot, you know.’ I giggled at her silliness.

Really huh? Then what you waiting for? Go get one, quickly get married.’ She didn’t sound excited, but matter-of-factly.

Okay, can, pick a country you like, or you want me to buy you a map to randomly point to a spot?‘ I choked on my laughter as I wondered how far she gonna bring the joke to.

I tell you, don’t look for husband locally, find one overseas also not bad.

Ya ya ya. Local a lot of expats you can choose from also.’

‘They rich or not?’

What kind of question is that? Well, the ones I know earn 5 figure a month….’

Before I could finish the sentence..

Don’t wait already!! What are you waiting for! Anyhow pick one and get married, quick!‘ There was grave seriousness in her tone.

Thinking she is getting a tad too serious, I wanted to say something but was suddenly interrupted by her.

But, they married or not? If married, then better don’t want…

I was flabbergasted. Her context was ‘Better not la hor..’ instead of ‘CANNOT‘.

I started to think she is really desperate for me to get off the shelf or something.

You slowly find one, okay? Then find one good one, don’t be choosy already. Caucasians not bad also right?

Yah, very good, at least I know you won’t get to nag them cos you don’t speak their language. Muahahaha.’

You think I joking with you? I am serious. You know how worried I am for you or not? I everyday in Malaysia thinking how you are doing, and doctor says I am in depression and I have to go for consultation for it, you know!’

Sorry, I really didn’t know that.

*Speechless*

But knowing how paranoid she can be, I am not too surprised.

I have always thought she is anti-Caucasian, I mean, she doesn’t even speak English, but apparently, she proved me wrong today.

‘Quick find one, got money one, but married ones, no good, better not.’

I could hear Dad’s giggling in the background, and groaned at what I thought to be a thrashy topic had became serious.

When the phone was passed back to him, he laughed and said ‘Okay, you slowly find one to please her then, we are very liberal with that.

*Roll eyes*

Dad! Where did that come from?!

Argh.

Can somebody just shoot me to end this agony?

My lifetime happiness had derived into such a joke to them??

No, they sounded dead serious.

Okay, I feel too stressed to continue with this.

Sigh.

I am getting too old.

Seems like I am too ugly for the local guys to accept me.

As much as I resent and resist it, SPGism, here I come.

Now, will you excuse me while I draw up a draft of names and contacts.

Ting’s list of globalisation.

Oh, throw in some occupational classification, too.

Mom, your son-in-law is in sight, I hope.

Malaysians, Hongkies can or not?

Cannot?

Australia-borned-Malaysian, London-bred-Hongkie, sure can, right?

Category: General  | 16 Comments
• Monday, April 25th, 2005

MUNDANE, INSIPID, READ-UNWORTHY SATURDAY

That doesn’t deserve much of your attention to read on.

Serious.

Erm, yeah.

Ignore the not very eye-catching graphics that adorn this post, cos they are unlikely to rouse any interest.

So, get yourself a cup of hot tea, put on your pyjamas(or well, strip naked if you have the habit of sleeping in the nude like I do), hug a bolster, suck on your thumb as you surf through this lacklustre post(supposedly not going to be a brief one) that most probably is so dry that it’s gonna put you to sleep.

*Yawn*

Not exactly how 2 melancholic ladies should be spending their Saturday, don’t ya think?

But what to do?

We are jobless, broke, and very, very emotinally perturbed.

All factors that screamt in our faces purposed us to have an eventless evening, which we would spend wallowing in sorrow, worry endless about tomorrow.

Woah! Rhymes, you know.

Come to think of it, why would people think tomorrow would be a better day?

To more rows. Not very healthy for relationships, isn’t it?

More than half of tomorrow is made up of 5/6 of sorrow.

To more sorrow, perhaps?

Oh, pardon my lameness.

I was staring blankly into my monitor(yes, yes. I stall my brains and let my thoughts drift aimlessly this way. Always.), fixing my gaze at the word ‘tomorrow’, and the bleak thoughts came to mind, again.

Woops. Out of point.

Met up with the sexy and glamourous Miss Posh for dinner at City Hall MRT in the evening.

Was greeted by the eye-catching sweetheart, who was, surprise surprise, in jeans for the night.

So was I.

The posh and poised went casual!

Keeping up with the tai-tai life proved to be a daunting task.

Even the choice of dinner place was rather unconventional.

We opted for fast food at Burger King cos yours truly had a strange craving for burgers, and it would be more economical a meal in town.

But Janice is so not a burger person, but she gave in to the demands of my hormones, and went ahead anyway.

One of the highlights of the evening was a nostalgic one.

Bumped into Henry who was coming out of the loo.

‘You’ll be surprised who I am with today,’ he hinted.

When I saw Quanbin and Qinghui emerging from the gents, I went into a tiny frenzy.

Quanbin is one of my most precious guy buddies, ever.

Alas, we kinda lost touch and drifted apart over the years.

It’s quaint how I was just thinking about him on that very afternoon(something in the previous post triggered a thought of him), before I bumped into them.

I was terribly thrilled to see the old pals again. The old pal who meant such an awesome lot to me throughout the years.

But yet, you can’t help but feel sometimes, such things aren’t mutual.

My mind went on autopilot mode, and I went into a semi-daze while munching on my burger.

I am gonna skip the what-nots that went through my thoughts, cos, sometimes, thinking back to the past could be quite emotionally draining.

No, there wasn’t anything bad or bitter about the past.

In fact, the friendships with this group of chums were one of the most beautiful things in my life.

The only sad truth is, some things in life don’t shine on brilliantly forever.

Anyway!

It was definitely fantastic to see Quanbin again. I miss that part of my youth.

So. Dinner was a spread of 2 set meals, and with additional add-ons of chicken tenders and cheesesticks.

I’ve got a bump like a preggie woman who is 3 months gone.

I was smart to wear something that could conceal the inches of lard I had manufactured over the weeks.

Since it was quite a historical moment as it was our first date at a fast food joint, Janice excitedly insisted on taking a picture to mark its significance.

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Well, I wouldn’t by-pass a chance to whore myself in front of the camera, would I?

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I strategically placed my hands, so I would not succumb myself to some unhealthy competition in which I would definitely lose by a huge margin.

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The two casual dollies for the evening, looking all sweetness and demure.

Did I hear demure?

Ah.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the epitome of poise and sophisticated, in casuals, illuminating the entire Burger King.

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Muahahahaha.

*Snaps fingers* Someone pass the burf bag, please.

Did a little perfume browsing at Robinson’s, and I finally realised what a doofus I had been.

Aqua Di Gio is in fact, ACQUA Di Gio. My bad.

Fahrenheit *cough* seems like a nice scent too… Mmm.. *nostalgia*

Took a bus ride down to Flappers, where we chatted over orange juice.

The evening was slowing down to such a ridiculous pace that we grew intensively bored.

At such, the camera took the centre stage, and we ease the boredom by snapping all things beautiful.

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*Tadang* The only 2 that fulfilled the above criteria.

Muahaha.

The lightings were rather dim, and we risk looking like the postergirls for some pornographic movie or some sort.

And I have no idea why the angle makes the 2 of us look as if we were nude or something. Duh.

We weren’t, please.

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I thought my top would hide my bulge, but apparently, it makes me look more pregnant than ever. Boo.

A consolation is, at least this can fit into my maternity wardrobe in the future.

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The backview to my new top, and looking retro with my hair bunned up.

Have no idea why I was feeling forlorn and forsaken for the entire evening at Flappers.

A friendly Melbourne chap came over and asked us where do most expats go to, and that immaculate accent further triggered thoughts of a particular system of principles - BenTingism.

Muahahahaha.

The night slithered on unhurriedly. It was getting so monotonous that I certainly did not forsee how my mood could be perked up at all.

I had a companion whose thoughts were miles away too.

And man,it was indeed a lengthy night. Certainly didn’t expect that it would go on longer than we had planned it to be.

Where else could we end up at, you say.

You’re right. Attica, again.

And no, there won’t be lousy specimens this time round.

And, we decided to pick ourselves out, cast those bugging thoughts aside, shed those burdens within, wave the shadows of people whom we shouldn’t be bothered with away, and F.. heck care all those issues/people.

This time round, one of the bouncers whom we did not know personally recognised us, and we were whisked into the club without the hassle of the snaking queue.

Signs that we have been gracing the club once too often? Woops.

The club was still relatively empty when we reached at 10 plus, and still was pretty quiet at 11pm.

It was then a few other bouncers introduced themselves, and we struck a conversation whilst the night warmed up.

I WOULD LIKE TO TAKE THIS OPPORTUNITY TO ‘SHOW OFF’ WHAT ONE OF THEM SAID.

No, not how one of them nicknamed Janice the *sneer* sweet one, while I got branded the delicious one.

Someone has to tell them we are the *ahem* Posh and Poised ones.

*Clears throat*

One of them, Cobra, who is a personal trainer, casually asked if I work out much at the gym or some sort.

Feeling slightly indignant that he might be hinting I am in need of some huffing and puffing to lose those flabs, I mustered the sweetest smile I could, shook my head and counter-asked ‘Why?‘.

Your build seems like the sort who work out quite a fair bit.

*Ting floats around with a gigantic beam*

Cool or what?! I look like the sort who work out a lot, ya know! Does that mean I am lean and looking healthy?

Muahahaha. I am such a cheater. I am definitely too lazy for the gym.

Then again, I was pulled back to reality after my lucid mind prompted that Jojo Sinclair works out quite a lot too, and she is no where near lean and slim.

Bleah.

Still, he made me day.

*Giggles* *Chuckles* *Sniggers*

But pictures don’t lie.

My arms are too flabby, and are a clear give-away that I have been suppering a tad too much.

*Wails*

Cruel, cruel, life.

The sweet posh one and I then bumped into does-not-have-the-hots-for-me David, who got for us a reserved table near the dancefloor and the bar, which was rather conducive, and prompted more chats and bitchings from the 2 ladies.

People-watching was pretty interesting too.

Marvelling at the sights of stunningly sexy babes, and cooing over yuppies who carried off the tight white shirts brilliantly.

Before long, I downed a shot of kamikaze, 3 glasses of orange juice(yes, Janice and I were the weirdos who ordered endless flow of juices instead of alcohol! Wahahaha) and yet, another shot of kamikaze.

Tab on the house, yet again.

David joined us on-and-off for chats, and had absent-mindedly left his walkie-talkie on the table before walking off to do his rounds.

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Erm, hardly visible I guess.

We ended up hiding his walkie-talkie, and pretended we have absolutely no idea where it was.

My handphone was kidnapped in the process for the exchange of hostages.

And after an hour or so later, then did we finally relent, and return each other’s communication gadget, safe and sound.

Seeing how I was munching on every single piece of orange in the juice prompted David to get the very cute waiter(Sean? Shaun? Shawn?) to bring us something, er, rather special(?).

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A glass filled with multiple slices of orange.

We were so ‘privileged’ that we even had orange slices as ’snacks’.

Muahahaha.

David(no, not this one, but the skinny latte Englishman) had messaged me earlier that he might drop by Attica, but it was a tad disappointing that he didn’t turn up at all.

Sigh. *forlorn*

By 1.30am, the 2 kamikazes knocked me off, and I took a breather at the cushioned seats outside.

I must have dozed off for 20 minutes or something. How embarrassing.

I would like to attribute it to fatigue or tiredness, but being a bummer with ample rest, I could only concede and admit that I am a darn freaking lousy drinker.

Alcohol never failed to make me sleepy.

The very nice waiter actually brought me a cup of iced water seeing the lousy state I was in.

But I was actually snoozing and didn’t have the chance to thank him personally. Muahahaha.

I definitely wasn’t drunk, but I just couldn’t fight the snoozebug away.

The problem for me with alcohol is, it makes me sleepy, yet the slumber I derived from it would never be long enough a rest.

I would end up waking up feeling oh-so energetic, alert and perky, unable to rest further, like on a caffeine-high or something.

I was ignited to life after the power-nap, sprung up feeling all refreshed, and sashayed back into the club with a bounce in my steps.

Wheeeeeeeeee! And into party animals, we morphed.

After an hour of vigorous dancing, we headed out and chatted to Clifford and his wife for a little while.

Before venturing back in, we sat around outside the club, chatting to the incredibly nice guy, Terry.

I guess it was one of the first times we had an extensive conversation which went beyond the usual casual greetings.

I gasped in amazement when he spoke of his usual weekend rountine.

He normally would not sleep nor rest on Fridays and Saturdays, and would only get to rest on late Sundays.

He holds 2 jobs, and he would go for his day job after breakfast at 9am when the club ceases operation at say, 6.30am.

Wow.

Pretty impressive stamina for a 33 year-old.

Sounds pretty insane in my opinion.

Yakked about his recent trip to Shanghai, past jobs, day job, yadda yadda..

At the end of it, we were offered one free wakeboarding lesson, with all fees waived!

Wheee! I could FINALLY look forward to my virgin wakeboard trip in the next couple of weeks after the previous plan fell through!

Just before we proceeded back into the club, the unbelievably, infinitely, intensely, tremendously, awfully drop-dead sexy Roberto(he’s a model who works at the door, in his sleek shirt and tie) joined in.

*Inhale*

Exhale, baby, exhale. Someone should teach me how to breathe when he’s around.

He’s extremely goofy, and I started teasing him if he still eats much durian.

I saw him on television last week when this variety program was looking for tourists and dare them to try durian.

The Spanish was stopped by the hosts, who later on, took his portfolio folder, and paraded his pictures on national television.

Roberto was only dressed in briefs in those pictures!!

Gosh. That was so freaking sizzling hot.

Let me say that again. THAT WAS SO FREAKING SIZZLING HOT!

That mischievous look in his eyes, the goofy actions, the cheeky smile that flirted so wantonly with the screen.

Absolutely droolsome.

Yet, he could switch on the intensity to his eyes, sleek and sophistication to his moves, and alternating between a cool, slight smile and an innocent, cute grin.

Gorgeous. Dangerously sexy.

The chiselled good looks, smouldering eyes.

Awwww….

If only Singapore is littered with such guys.

Anyway, he was unexpectedly friendly and filled us in on how the hosts insisted on peeking his pictures.

I exhaled.

The very bored delicious poised one decided to play with Janice’s camera phone, and managed a few delicious shots.

Like the very act sweet one below.

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And, together with the babe.

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Not very well-taken.

Again.

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Ahh.. that’s better.

We jumped on the chance to get Terry into the picture, and Roberto offered to be the executioner for the task.

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A tad too dark, but wasn’t too bad an effort by Roberto.

And how could we let such a golden chance to pass?

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We flanked Roberto, but Terry’s skills didn’t do him(nor *cough* us) much justice.

I secretly sniggered at the fact that Janice was wearing black and pretty much merged into the background, hence making Roberto and I looking every inch of a couple.

Yeah, right. Dream on.

Muahahaha.

Since we were venturing up to Attica Too, we collected our bags from the counter, and I whipped out my brutally honest camera for more quality, albeit a tad harsh pictures.

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The 2 tired-looking ones.

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Janice and Terry. We both agree the pictures don’t really do Mr Nice Guy much justice.

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Me and the bouncer who recognised us.

Is there something on my arm, you ask. No, there’s nothing at all. Your eyes are playing tricks on ya. I did not do any editing to my arm. You must be mistaken.

Yeah, you are deluded.

I do not intend to cheat by airbrushing my flabby arms away like *cough* somebody does.

It was then when we spotted Big Bird!

Hmm, more like Big Bird’s cousin, in blue.

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Frankly, it looked much worse in real life with the net stockings and shiny PVC skirt. It was a clash of all the fashion faux pas.

We shouldn’t be so mean. Tsk tsk.

The heat in the open was killing us, and we decided to head up to Attica Too.

Of course, not before we stop to exchange air-kisses with Jump Mayll(gee, we had always thought it’s Jumail or something), and took a few pictures with the lovely friendly giant.

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Messy hair, I know.

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Just when it was Janice’s turn, 2 adorable beings popped into the frame, making this a merrier picture.

Yup, 2 strangers. No names, no introductions.

I thought they were being really sporting and cute. So if any of you guys recognise them, do let me know. Muahaha.

The melancholic air lingered.

Not for long, anyway.

Janice and I made a pact as we pranced up the steps that we would tuck the hues of blues away, and enjoy ourselves thoroughly, before sealing the pact with high fives and hugs.

And party on, we would.

And boy, party on, we blardy did!

Was looking for David since he had earlier suggested to us to look for him to have a drink together, but it was almost impossible to penetrate through the condensed crowd.

We gave up scootering through the impermeable mass, and stood right next to the VIP area.

Have utterly no clue to how everything happened, but the bouncer guarding the VIP area actually *gasp* lift the barrier and invited us in.

It was a much more comfortable and exclusive place to groove to the music, overlooking the entire party crowd.

I like Attica Too’s spins.

It was then when a very friendly lady made conversation with us, and introduced her group of girlies to us.

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Jessica, Michelle, Niki, Janice and I. Janice had insisted to join me in the twirly club.

The girls were fabulous and really bubbly. Great joy to have their company for the night.

Niki is touring Singapore and is from New York.

David spotted us and joined us at the VIP area. He insisted on buying us another round of drinks despite our refusal. Thusm we gave in and I faithfully stood by my kamikaze shot yet again.

Three shot glasses were handled over by the bartender, and being the very intelligent ladies we are, we swopped one of our shot glasses with David’s shot glass.

I took a gulp from the shot glass, and caught him cheating.

It was all lime juice and alcohol-free!

Tsk tsk. Didn’t they know we have ample brains and had resorted to such methods to fool the 3 doctors before?

David downed the kamikaze, and got me another shot though I had wanted to settle for the lime juice. Of course, he wouldn’t allow me to.

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The Japanese Porn Star(in totti’s words) and Janice.

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Yes, I look blardy fat right next to him. *grumble grumble curse curse*

And no, he DOESN’T….. you know the rest.

The surprise of the night came when we were boogie-ing to the music, really having the time of our lives when Roberto saw us, gave us a mesmerising grin, and said ‘hi’.

Suddenly, he pulled both our hands to the VIP seating area like a flamboyant host, and asked if we would like to join him and his friends for some drinks.

Couldn’t quite remember their names, but I remember there was this New Yorker who is really fluent with his Mandarin!

He flaunted his linguistic skills after asking me if I speak Chinese.

Didn’t really enjoy being confined to the red plush seats, Janice and I headed back to where we originally were, and carried on dancing.

Roberto and the New Yorker was standing right next to the bar, and we chatted to them briefly before Roberto insisted on buying us drinks.

Again?!?! I wish I am someone who appreciates alcohol and all these treats would seem much more enticing to me.

It’s almost hard to say ‘no’ to Roberto, and a shot of something vile was swiftly passed to us.

I took a big sip of the violent liquid, and there was this quaint and heavy taste which scrunched up every inch of my face.

Absolutely repulsive.

What David told me later was, that was Roberto’s usual drink and I had conveniently forgot the name to it.

Fresh from a shot of kamikaze, I knew I wouldn’t survive if I bare the glass.

The sneaky one chose the oblique way out.

I tilted the glass in the dark, and much of the volume was emptied onto the carpet.

Hehehehehehehehehe. *sheepish*

I pretended to down the rest of the shot, and overturned the empty shot glass on the counter, to show the glass was cleared of its content.

Somewhere 30cm away from me, another posh sneaky one was doing the exact same thing.

Muahahaha. Birds of same feather flock together, I supposed.

David came by and joined in the conversation, and I recalled how we have yet to have a proper shot of Roberto.

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OH MY OH MY!!

*fans myself fervently*

The eyes!! The eyes!!

Somebody help me! I am hyperventilating.

Anyway, I look so fat that it is as if I am squeezing the both of them out of the frame. Bleah.

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That lucky bitch lass.

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I guess I am luckier cos I have both their arms round me rather than them having their arms around each other *points to the picture above with Janice*.

MUAHAHAHAHAHA.

Again, you could crop David out of the picture and Roberto and I would look like the perfect couple.

Roberto is white. David is yellow. Ting is scarlet.

I simply adore this picture. *giggles*

He is so gorgeous, can?!

Roberto.

And.. AND.. AND!

I groped his tight, firm, A-grade butt.

No no no, I am not a pervert! *weak defense*

Roberto turned away, and his back was facing us when David made a comment on how everyone is always eyeing Roberto’s butt.

Being not a very butt person, I glanced down, and couldn’t quite comprehend why except that guys who wear pants have more appealing arse(actually I prefer guys who wear beige colour cargo pants or such).

Before I knew it, David grabbed my hand suddenly and the next thing I was aware of, my hand was on Roberto’s fleshy butt.

I let out a loud squeal out of sheer ecstacy embarrassment and giggled myself silly.

I am so sure the tinge of scarlet on me wasn’t from the effect of alcohol alone.

The cheeky Roberto then bent over and struck a pose as if to invite us to spank him, jokingly.

David then sabotaged again, and I was again taken by surprise when he pulled my hand over to smack Roberto on the butt.

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

I tried to display the most innocent look and vehemently denied it was me.

I groped and spanked the sexy one!

Woooo….

And I have a confession.

I am so bloody guilty that I didn’t retract my hand.

Cos really, it was so blardy firm and toned.

*Gasp in amazement*

WOAH is the word.

You don’t know what you are missing man. Coming from a not-very butt person, it is an utmost compliment.

Girls and boys, it’s not the right thing to touch other people’s butts, so please do not attempt this, at all.

Sigh. When can I do that again eh?

Danced on, before someone came over and struck a conversation with us again.

An Indian, a local, with his Holland friend, Edy, in tow.

They chatted briefly to us, and yet again, insisted on buying us drinks.

What’s with everyone?

They got the wrong people! We are not into drinks, at all.

Will orange juice do, we asked.

Apparently not.

We declined.

Conversation went on, and on, and though it was quite an extensive and decent conversation, I couldn’t remember most of it.

Somehow Janice and I then asked what does the local do, he broke into a smile, and said he would tell us only if we allow him to buy him a drink.

David walked past, the guy turned to him, and cheekily said ‘The girls asked me what do I do for a living.’

Sensing something amiss, I asked for his name.

Mikey.

Janice and I turned to each other with all the dramatic expressions in the right places and laughed ‘So you are Mikey, we heard pretty lot about you.‘.

We didn’t need a drink to find out his occupation anymore.

He’s one of the bosses of Attica, who oversees the operations.

Right.

So we didn’t know who he was.

But even knowing who he is, doesn’t mean we would butter up his arse or whatsoever.

Conversation went on as per normal, except that we could not refuse the drinks treat anymore.

Another kamikaze.

Whee! My 4th! Record breaking day!

Plus the sips of vodka orange from Jessica’s glass when she offered me, and the sips of vodka redbull from David’s glass when he offered me, and the big sip of vile shot Roberto got for us, it’s indeed an impressive feat in my standard.

Apparently my flowy top gotten some comments, and I jokingly pressed fabric close to my tummy to show the contour of it to show I am not pregnant.

And Mikey actually complimented my not-so-flat tum and suggested that I should get it pierced.

He will sponsor it, he said.

Wah.

Wait till I tone it up and lose a few more inches.

Before I knew it, it was becoming like a who-has-a-bigger-tummy competition between the guys and Edy was showing off his big, round tum.

I forgot to tell them it’s impossible to beat my ex in this field.

Noticed there’s a surgery scar on Mikey’s abdomen and he had actually donated a kidney to his brother.

Wow.

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*cough* Yah, somebody is in need of some gym sessions and some intensive sit-ups training.

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Was blardy taken by surprise when the picture was taken.

I shan’t say how much I wish it was from Roberto instead. Muahaha.

But Edy is actually a very nice and decent gentleman who had no ill-intentions.

Besides being really goofy when taking pictures for theatrical effects, he was mostly cracking jokes and did not even come near or try to be touchy to us.

Janice had a peck from him too and it was more of a friendly gesture from the man from Amsterdam.

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The guys insisted on treating another round of drinks, and got David round to the counter to join us too.

4 glasses of vodka orange, Mikey ordered.

As if it was a standard practise, the bartender handed out 2 glasses first, followed by 2 other glasses.

Janice and I took the 2 latters, and the bartender dramatically(and quite cutely) panicked and insisted those weren’t for us and tried to get it from us.

We passed the remaining 2 glasses to Mikey and David, who both downed the vodka orange, whilst we enjoyed the sweetness of pure orange juice.

Cheaters!

Then again, it was just the way business works. The bartender would always give the staffs bogus drinks.

Anyway, before we knew it, the lights came on, and the party had thus ended.

Time? 6 in the morning.

Oh no! Harsh lights were shining right in our faces of faded makeup, painting a scary sight of fatigue and flaws.

We actually hang around for a while more to finish the drinks, before heading out to Liang Court.

Janice had wanted Burger King for supper breakfast, while I rooted for the big yellow M.

Mikey and Edy joined us, but we were disappointed to find McDonald’s would only open at 7.30am, which would be another hour’s wait.

Mikey then sent us up a cab, while he returned home.

Janice and I headed to River Valley cos we were utterly famished.

By the time we settled down for supper, the sky litted prettily.

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Whee! It’s morning! Day break!

How nice.

The sky. Not me. Nah, don’t look at the watch.

Muahahahaha.

David joined us for breakfast after he had finished with all the stuff at work, and by the time we finished the pratas, the sky was in its full bright glory.

Strangely, I was still very much awake despite the nagging headache started setting in cos the effects of alcohol had yet to dissolve.

David and I then shared a cab home since he stays in the west area too.

I joked about how I would send him home first but I changed my mind when the headache was a tad hard to handle.

Air-kissed him goodbye before alighting the cab, ending my extensive day.

I awe myself.

I wonder how I survived the night.

And it was a blardy fun night.

I got home with Terry’s and David’s numbers. Muahaha.

Yah, just a pity I don’t have Roberto’s.

But, I shan’t mention that he asked for mine.

I am not saying that I kissed someone on the lip for 3 seconds, sans tongues though.

And I am not saying it was a glossy, waxy kiss.

Be very jealous, I am not saying it was Janice who kissed me.

Woops.

Aren’t you guys jealous that I have a piece of Janice’s smooth, soft lips but you guys don’t?

Hurhurhur.

I fell asleep promptly after bathing, but could only manage 3 hours of sleep before the alcohol kept me awake, and unable to sleep again.

I managed to struggle on the day till now.

I am typing deliriously actually.

And what was a high, happening party night became such a miserable, boring, crappy account with my zoned out mind failing to inject life into the whole episode.

I don’t even know if I stringed all the sentences properly, or not.

Time to hit the sack.

I have yet to have the abundant rest needed to recuperate from the night.

Will edit the post if I recall anything I missed out.

Now, if you would excuse me, I shall, dip into the depth of my mattress, pillows and duvet, and indulge in some cosy snooze.

Told ya it’s a boring post.

Category: General  | 29 Comments
• Saturday, April 23rd, 2005

FEELIN’ THE SAME WAY

Yet again.

I have no idea if this is a good thing, or not.

Gone were the days I feel great need to blog to express my detailed emotions to the dot, paint my every tear with words, decorate my every sentiment with frills, dress my every nerve in vocabs, and display it at the window for the world to view.

I am a person of details. I go deep into every millimetre of stuffs, and blog about the tiniest event in a single day of my mundane life, even the palest hue of emotion is worth a mention.

Hence, my blog has been about myself, and has seldom diverted from that particular path it set sail for.

Yet, the mentality changed.

The urge to blog about intimate relevations is still there, it’s hard to go away.

What’s stopping it is this internal lethargy. This great reluctance to confront it again.

Like how cowardly I am now. Speaking of it as a general topic, yet afraid to go near to the exact sensitive spot to touch on it.

Too raw.

Or rather, it doesn’t matter to me nor bother me.

Or so I believe.

Janicism says: i still havin bloggers block
Tingism says: i am typing mindlessly
Tingism says: and its falling into place
Janicism says: sigh
Tingism says: i didnt intend to blog today
Janicism says: i recently can’t tink of wat to blog
Tingism says: i dun wan to blog about this and that
Tingism says: but i noe.. its jus my way of escaping
Tingism says: I DO WANT TO
Tingism says: but i jus.. feel
Tingism says: great reluctance to
Tingism says: and now i somehow went on and on abt my dad though i had wanted to avoid the topic
Tingism says: and i feel.. miserable
Tingism says: cos the worries start seeping in
Tingism says: and
Tingism says: i tink thats why i dun wan to blog

The instance when dad felt unwell on Thursday night, there were so much fear seeping in.

I was very, very frightened.

Yet, sitting right next to him in the car, seeing how he fidget when the discomfort probed, feeling the car slowing down to a crawl on the expressway as he struggled to drive on, I was the coolest I ever was.

Stoney-faced, husky-voiced, I pressured him to drive to the doctor’s instead.

It was already past midnight.

The drive seemed to go on eternally.

The spasms of ache to his chest unsettled me.

Deja vu.

I nearly lost him 11 years ago when I woke up to find no one at home in the early morning to prepare me for school.

(Seriously at this point, I have no idea why I had gone on and on with this post cos I had great reluctance to think back on this episode. Both episodes, in fact. The ride home and the old episode.)

It was only when I graced National University of Hospital in my River Valley school uniform in the late afternoon that day, did I realise the severity of the whole matter.

The dad who piggybacked me even when I was a lanky 13 year-old(yeap, my height became stagnant when I was 11), who challenged me to all roller-coaster rides, who carried all the heavy stuffs around in the house, was all tubed up in the Intensive Care Unit, with machines of what-not names egging his life on.

He wouldn’t have survived if you had delayed sending him in for another hour,’ was what the doctor had told my mum.

So close.

So freaking blardy close.

I refused to let my thoughts run in that direction on Thursday night.

It was hard not to.

Dad would not complain of any aches unless it really bothers him.

And to feel the car taking a cranky trail and moving painfully slow on the expressway was.. unsettling.

I panicked. I did.

Being the great actress I am, I hardly showed anything.

But even as I think back on this episode, I feel a flinch within.

In time of distress, who do you think of?

Helplessness conquered. Who would you turn to?

I started praying in tongues, and commit everything into His hands.

I have some really unexpected candidates, yet I only messaged 2.

Thanks for the prayers. Really, really, grateful.

Yet, he exited from the expressway, drove home instead.

He put off the visit to the doctor’s.

Praise the Lord, the pain ceased the very next day.

For good, I hope.

Still, I would point a pistol to his head to get a thorough checkup soon.

***

Felt great urge to attend cell group last night.

Called up David(no no, not the Attica’s manager, nor the advertising skinny latte David, nor the Prudential David, but the biker David) and used my most sugary tone to get him to attend cell group with me.

But he had to leave early, he said.

He then suggested that I join him and the usual guys(well, yah, Philip’s biking group, that is) for a night’s out in Malaysia.

Feeling the need for some liberation and speed. I took up the offer.

He picked me up to head down to cell together, and I can’t remember when was the last time I straddled a bike as a pillion.

(Darn. *curse curse swear swear* The blardy broswer hung on me. But thank God I did save part of it. But I lost quite a few paragraphs too, argh.)

I was unable to locate my leather gloves and I feel a little naked without the full gear and such.

Had wanted to capture a picture of me in my *cough* bikerchick glory but didn’t manage to.

Curls go well with biking. You wouldn’t know where the mess is with the ready-mess.

And I shall not reveal how hilarious it was when my left earring got caught in the helmet’s cushion and I took 10 minutes to take it off at the void deck, in full view of the residents hanging out there.

Thought I would get jittery, but there was hardly any. The once so familiar feeling was there again.

Cell was good. It was brief but I am glad I turned up.

Though the muddlehead(who else but yours truly) got the address wrong, and went from the 1st to the 6th foor just to locate the right unit.

I still feel great accountability and affections for each and every face there, and was thrilled to see them.

It was quaint.

What was said in my church last Sunday is identical to what was said in Janice’s church too.

I guess the only uneasiness feeling crawled beneath my skin was when certain assumptions were made.

Yet, I enjoyed my short session before heading off to Tuas checkpoint, Gelang Patah Esso to meet up with the guys.

Despite being an hour late, we were the earliest.

Apparently, the others had overslept due to the cosy and rainy weather.

The only bike with us for the night was Royston, with, surprise, surprise, his ex-wife.

How strange can the combination be?

Philip’s good friends with me. Add on a pair of estranged couple.

Queer oh queer.

Supper at Perling was indeed nostalgic.

It brought back memories how Philip had to send me into Malaysia ever so often, until he discovered the infamous stretch along North-South highway, that became his ‘training ground’ and the notorious wheelie spot for local bikers.

Saw some familiar faces at the petrol station, and I started to realise how big a gap and what a wide distance had developed between me and the sport I once so loved.

I still do, yet, could hardly keep up.

What a difference 9 months make.

It may come across as really incredible, but my parents have yet to have any knowledge of my single status.

Philip exclaimed ‘What?! It has been more than 8 months and they still don’t know?!

*Sheepish*

Yup, I don’t want them to be worried, you see.

Wait till I get myself a new boyfriend. Muahahahaha.

Still, some of the friends from the group remain dear to me.

Like how I met up with Cat for some intensive binging at Takashimaya food court, which in my opinion, is an utterly sinful place, on Thursday.

Teriyaki chicken rice, tutu kueh, 4 sticks of fish cakes, Takopachi, and chocolate fondant(too rich, not that nice) for dinner.

*Wails* What ever happened to my diet plans?

Yah, I will go on and on about going on a diet but I will NEVER succumb to it. Muahaha.

I am not one who is good at resisting temptations.

We went shopping a little, and I got myself a new top and a new lip colour! Yeay!

Hanging out without much make up and sloppily dressed proves daunting for the self-esteem.

Gee. I feel fat and ugly.

Not forgetting, silly.

Had wanted to take tonnes of pictures with the wacky Cat, but….. I forgot to pack my battery into the camera, and my hollow camera wasn’t able to work.

*SULKS*

Such bimbotic acts. Only Ting proves capable.

***

Needed some help with some proposal stuffs and messaged Mr KG(ouch ouch ouch) for help.

I awed myself with how cool I could deal with it.

It came as a surprise when the reply came in swift.

A few exchanges later, the reply ceased.

Then it came in again.

His battery died, hence delayed.

His encouragement kinda warmed me up. Give it a try, go for it, he said.

He said he would keep me posted of his next move.

Was kinda taken aback since I didn’t request so.

Shucks. Why am I still so blardy stirred by his freaking words.

I am cool, remember?

I contacted him for proper and serious matter.

*Ting shakes away the bugging thoughts*

Ah well.

***

It’s funny how I say I didn’t want to blog about some issues, and yet, still let them out.

Of course, I mellowed down a lot of the complicated feelings which the old Ting would have vented out.

I feel.. handicapped.

I don’t know why.

Anyway.

Ending this off with a song.

Norah Jones - Feelin’ the same way.

Ironically, this is a song Mr Aqua Di Gio 2(*cough* Mr Z4) adore.

Oh. *Sarcastically* May he have a wonderful 30th birthday, today. *sneer*

And no, the song is not for him.

The sun just slipped its note below my door
And I can’t hide beneath my sheets
I’ve read the words before so now I know
The time has come again for me

And I’m feelin’ the same way all over again
Feelin’ the same way all over again
Singin’ the same lines all over again
No matter how much I pretend

Another day that I can’t find my head
My feet don’t look like they’re my own
I’ll try and find the floor below to stand
And I hope I reach it once again

And I’m feelin’ the same way all over again
Feelin’ the same way all over again
Singin’ the same lines all over again
No matter how much I pretend

Yeahhhh, Ohhhh, Yeahhh

So many times I wonder where I’ve gone
And how I found my way back in
I look around awhile for something lost
Maybe I’ll find it in the end

Yup. Spot on.

The melody cheers me up despite the melancholy lyrics.

In fact, I am feeling such now.

I don’t feel any hint of lows, and am actually quite perked up.

So no worries, mates.

And may I repeat, David DOES NOT have the HOTS for Ting.

*COUGH*

Category: General  | 16 Comments