Tuesday evening. The house phone shrilled.

What are you doing, Sweetie?

Nothing much.. Watching television, feeling lazy and lethargic.

Why don’t you go out?

*Whines*

Haha, why are you whining?

*Hmph*

Why you hmph?

I don’t know.. just feeling darn lazy. I don’t feel like doing anything. I don’t feel like reading, I don’t feel like blogging, I don’t feel like MSNing, I don’t feel like surfing.. Argh! I don’t know what I want to do. I just don’t feel like doing anything.

Shagging?

………. LAME. Then again, that might do the trick.

(Joke, of course, if you didn’t get it.)

Ooo, sounds good. I like.

*Roll eyes* Yeah, right. Maybe I should go jogging.

You have been saying that for the umpteenth time.

Hmphf. -ignoring the putdown- Maybe I should jog to Holland Village. Yeah, I should do that.

-Very encouragingly- HA! HA! HA! -high-pitched mock- Yeah, why not you do just that and I will meet you there?

Really? You always don’t mean what you say. As if I would believe you.

-Holding back his chuckles- Yeah, I will meet you there and we would go for a drink if you REALLY jog there.

Why?! You doubt me right? Okay, fine! I will go prepare and jog there.

Fine, gimme a call when you leave the house then. Ha! Ha!

Okay, if I really do jog there and you don’t come down to Holland Village, you will owe me 10 bucks.

What do I stand to gain if I do turn up?

Coffee’s on me.

Steady. -Stifling laughters- Like I said, call me before you leave home, and call me again when you are 30 minutes from Holland Village.

Cool. Bye Sweetie.

Alright, bye Sweetie.

15 minutes later, VampTreSS called to ask if I would like to meet her for coffee with Airhole.

Feeling a tad skeptical about the genuinity of SBB’s offer, I set up a contingency plan and managed to convince them enough to meet at Holland Village instead.

20 minutes later, I was clad in a Reebok top over my Adidas sports bra, and a pair of Adidas tights that would be comfortable enough to bring me through the jog.

Took a coin pouch and stuffed my ATM card into it, along with some notes, and my key.

Travel light.

Stuffed the phone and coin pouch at the waistband of my tights, clad my feet in my pink socks, slotted them into my Nike sneakers, and bundled my crowning glory into a dainty ponytail, secured by hairclips.

I dialed for SBB.

Yo! Am heading out of the house now. You better keep your end of the bargain. -Smirk-

You really gonna jog to Holland Village?!

Yup! Am dressed already.

-With a tinge of belittling- I would still meet you for coffee even if you are not jogging down.

…. -Speechless- Anyway, since I am already all geared up, might as well.

Okay fine. Call me 5 and half hours later, half an hour before you reach then.

………….. -Silently cursing- I don’t need take 6 hours to reach there lor! Just gimme 2 to 3 hours. Muahahahaha.

Really? -Contempt- We shall see. So you really are jogging?

Yeap! Then? What else do you think? -defiantly-

Haha, why do I think you would end up taking a bus or cab? So you jogging back too?

I won’t cheat! And I am not an idiot! Of course I ain’t jogging back. You want me to die is it?

Need me to give you a lift?

That’s sweet, but it’s alright sweetie, I can make my own way back later. Not very convenient for you either.

Okay, just be careful and gimme a call later.

Alrights. Ciao.

A few minutes later, I was down at the lobby, doing some light warm up, before embarking on a seemingly mission impossible.

I had contemplated taking the route I once took last year, but when I reached the bridge, it looked a tad too scary with its dimmed park lights, without a soul in sight.

Thus, I decided to follow the silly MRT tracks.

Besides a bundle of Bangladeshi workers in my sight along the on the otherwise solitary lanes, there were only eerie trees and pitch-black darkness of jungles on my left as I ventured on my quest.

The only flats that were in sight, were those of Clementi.

From Chinese Garden, to Jurong East, to Chevrons, to Clementi Fire Station. Then, from Clementi flats, to Dover, to Buona Vista.

Finally, Holland Village beckoned.

I awed myself.

My stamina plunged to an obscene level.

I blame it on the fact that my legs had to carry a heavier load of lards these days.

I just couldn’t seem to have that light-weight feel throughout.

My lungs threatened to squeeze the life out of me, and I was.. almost… dying. *pant pant*

I finally called SBB to tell him I might make it to Holland Village in half an hour’s to an hour’s time, after more than an hour of jog and *cough* brisk walking.

To my amazement! I reached Holland Village 15 minutes later, and I took around one and half hour to reach instead of the 2 hours I set for myself.

Yay!

I am so proud of myself! *Smirk*

(SBB on the phone now: I am proud of you too, Sweetie. In which I replied: Cut it. What’s the jibe? No jibe. No jibe? That’s new.)

Weird thing is, it is 7.30am in the morning right now, and I still don’t feel an ounce of muscle ache.

Wheee!

(SBB cursed that I would feel it once I hit the sacks and wake up later)

I was puffing and panting, in a hue of scarlet when I finally reached to find Airhole and Vamp at the coffeeshop of Holland Village.

I didn’t know Airhole had the fetish for sweaty, smelly, panting ladies, as he insisted it was a sexy sight.

(And that 2 idiots had the audacity to tell me later on that it was because sports bra has erm, less coverage, and thus….. certain spots were pretty erected. -gasp in absolute horror-)

Coincidentally, the 3 Musketeers of blogosphere, Mrbrown, Miyagi and James Seng were there plotting to take over the galaxy too.

I went over to say a quick hi, still out of breath(yes, they took my breath away too), before joining Vamp and Airhole.

SBB arrived shortly after.

He raised a brow, touched my arms and back, and insisted I wasn’t sweaty. And that I didn’t look tired enough.

He declared me a bluff.

He insisted I took a cab down.

He even asked why I was vain enough to put on make up.

????!!!

Who would jog with make up on?! And who would still have make up intact after jogging?!

Natural flush alright?

It was then the 2 kind elderly spoke up for me to verify that I was indeed sweaty and scarlet when I reached.

HMPH!!!!! TRYING TO ERASE MY EFFORTS RIGHT?! TRYING TO DISCREDIT MY ACHIEVEMENT RIGHT?!

@^#!$#!$!@#$!^%$#@!

I walkedjogged there! Without cheating!

I didn’t, and don’t cheat!

Such audacity!

Ask my torn knee ligament, and it would tell you of the stress as it endured the shock of my XX(confidential)kg of lard.

Ask my right foot’s middle toe, and it would tell you of its misery as its neighbour’s nail pricked into it as I bounced off the cement pavement.

I pouted, sulked, stared and glared(playfully, of course) until I did enough to convince him of my genuine efforts.

He acknowledged it.

Yay.

Next time, I shall conquer Orchard. *Beams*

***

I had not had any proper meal prior to my jog, and was starting to feel a tad hungry.

Decided to get a sandwich from Breko, in which SBB offered his company.

As we strolled down to Breko by the route of the carpark, his hand made a grip for mine, and surprised me as he held me close for the first tongue exchange for the night.

Mmm.. Nice.

Until..

Eeewww! What’s that smell?

Huh?

Ah! I know. It’s you!

ME?! Really meh?!

Yah! It’s YOU.

*Sniff sniff*

He pretended to back off and jumped away.

It’s not me! It’s the blardy rubbish chute.

To which, he gave a cheeky laugh then did I realise he was pulling my leg.

Grrrr…………..

And pulling me leg, he did.

He thought I was having leg cramp and made a grab for my right leg, and as usual, I retaliated by trying to kick him where it might hurt most.

Anyone knows any assassin for hire?

Sat at Breko to wait for a blardy long time for my sandwich to be done.

So long that when I finally got back to the coffeeshop, Airhole asked if the ‘scenery was -cough- breathtaking‘.

Someone had to play it up by leaning forward to touch the corner of my lips, pretending to rub away something that was never there, ‘Oh sweetie, you missed a spot here.‘

……….

Did I mention how much I hate cockroaches and how they make me hyperventilate?

I swear I could have fainted and died when I saw one of them scrambling towards my direction multiple times throughout the night.

Evil one.

God! Why did You create cockroaches?

Then again, if You create someone as loathesome as SBB.. I can totally understand the existence of pests.

Ah well.

To make my life more miserable, right?

***

The very nice Airhole offered Vamp and I a lift home, and it ended the rather interesting night, with an array of nice songs playing in his car.

It was an almost melancholy setting.

And Mr Airhole, I just would like to let you know what a fabulous company you are when you are sober, and that, I do really like you as a pal.

You’re nice. Really nice.

Despite of the jibes that came pouring my way from the 3 of you.

Not because of the lift, definitely.

Something else.

Coffee sometime soon.

***

The sudden harsh growl of thunder evoked the fear once again.

I instinctively screamt down the phone.

The poor chap had to endure such shit from me and yet graciously offered assurances to sooth the timid one. Poor thing.

2 phobias in a night, I confronted.

I am a bundle of nerves.

Best part? I was on webcam for the first time with him too when the husky roar of the sky teased.

I was almost reluctant to shower for the night(after all the jogging?!) or bringing in the laundry.

That must have been an ugly sight. Eek.

***

Interestingly, the night progressed and he slowly morphed into the sulkish and whiney one. His babyish ‘teyh‘ were quite hilarious.

(So cute)

‘I want to sulk.’

‘I need a hug.’

‘No! I WANT a hug.’

Oh well, the 5 and half hour of phone call continued till 10 minutes ago with a great deal of time spent on pacifying and babying the out-of-character one.

So I shall just wrap this up since I am in need of sleep too.

Interestingly, the jog perked my consciousness up and I feel so energetic that I still feel I have enough to spare for another entry.

I must be mad.

But my mind isn’t working well with the sleep deprivation and is losing its sharpness. I can’t seem to recall much else for the night.

So before I type anything silly and incoherent, I shall bid you guys good night.

Or rather, morning to those who are at work right now.

Hurhurhur.

Eh, wait.

He’s on the phone again.

So, erm, sleep is postponed.