If I were to collapse right now and die, I wonder what the cause of death will be.

I narrowed it down to 2 possibilities.

Screwed up sleeping pattern, OR, screwed up eating pattern.

Though I would like to list lack of horizontal desserts(thus, screwed up hormonal pattern) as one, but since I managed to survive 17 months(and yes, blardy proud of it too!) without any, not even any form of self service, I supposed I wouldn’t really die from it.

Wait.

And perhaps very bad sitting posture.

My cervical vetebrae has this sharp pain that made sitting up for a long while to concentrate on the monitor almost impossible.

Ironically, it would miraculously go away when I am sitting in front of the mahjong table.

Wait.

Add boredom as one of the culprits might just do. Well, I guess boredom is a constant murderer when everyone loves to say ‘bored to death’.

Now, I do wonder will I really die from it.

3 possibilities then.

Well, I should be glad(some of you should be glad too) that I have safely eliminate suicide as one of the probabilites.

SBB gave me a wake up call at 3pm this noon.

I didn’t realise how tired I was even though I had slept at… um… *tiny voice* 8am this morning.

I officially declare, reading is evil.

Very, very evil.

But still, you can’t blame a very intellectual and beautiful lady to have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, can you?

I am very proud to say, I picked up 3 books in 3 days.

Thus, that explains the lack of updates from me since the concert(throw in the aching cervical vetebrae).

Spent around half an hour on the phone, before I burrowed into the depths of cosiness when the sky decided to stage a riot.

How… condusive.

When I finally woke up to greet the day, it was a phone call from Denise and Alvin that came in at past 6 in the evening.

-Gasp gasp gasp-

That’s the latest I had woken up for a blardy long while, and I am not ready to succumb to that again kind of insane sleeping hours again.

SBB mocked that I am a piggie over SMS, and I wonder who is worse among the 2. -sneer-

***

I shall make a serious consideration of switching from blogging in English to blogging in Chinese.

I mean, hello? When I blog in English, I get an average of 3 or *yawn* 4 comments, but when I blog in Chinese, wooohooo, 37? Insane or what?

But! But! But!

I am so lazy typing out in Chinese. It’s no good for my spine too, either.

So if you guys are really thirsty for brilliant, funny and substance-filled worthy reads in Chinese, I shall recommend you…. C2pid!

I wonder how that insane man could type so much and fast in Chinese.

Well, as an ex-scriptwriter responsible for quite a fair bit of thrashy original local dramas, I shan’t be making the comparison.

And I learnt a great deal about blogging.

Nothing you blog is ever gonna be private.

So, I can’t ‘badmouth’ anyone in my blog anymore.

Imagine my horror my frail heart sustained when I mentioned about certain DJ in my previous entry, and he actually could identity the minute section(I didn’t even name him!), and left a comment.

Maybe I should blog about David Tao more often and see if he would get to read it, and perhaps, he would consider leaving a comment.

*Cough*

Kidding.

***

And from one of the comments left by someone, who made me aware of this particular mandarin song that I adore, is actually written by the vocalist, David, whom I mentioned in the previous entry.

Then, it occured to me that I liked that song so much that once, someone(I tried recalling who, but am not able to) sent me the English demo version, and told me it was his friend, a local who wrote it.

I have that MP3 with me since(couple of years back), and it was named Strength - David.

I put one and one together, and realised that the MP3 I had kept, was actually by the guy who *cough* mesmerised me that night at the concert, someone I had met earlier.

Gee, it’s cool how surprising things work, eh?

***

I seriously have no idea what to blog about today, though I don’t think it would be short.

***

I didn’t manage to have enough sleep after the concert.

I only managed to sleep late morning on Sunday, and woke up 4 or 5 hours later in the noon. 4pm, perhaps.

Feeling bored, I picked up my book, and finished it by 8pm.

Something in me felt that it wasn’t quite enough.

I put on a quick change of clothes, and headed out to West Mall, after checking online if there are any 2nd hand bookshops around my area.

Got myself 2 books, and grabbed a quick dinner by myself before I headed home.

Alvin had called to ask if I was free for the usual.

Mahjong, that is.

Sure.

He picked me up around half past 10, and we heading to Chee Kiong’s place, but the night ended prematurely after half a round, when Kiong’s girlfriend wasn’t quite happy with that, that made Kiong to make a difficult decision.

It was no biggie to us, and we left.

I guess it was a timely decision. The moment I hopped onto Alvin’s car, I could feel the terrible headache I had slightly more than a week back, was back. On the right skull, yet again.

SBB called around 4 plus in the morning, and asked about the night.

I just got back.

I casually said when he asked why was I still up.

So where did you go sweetie?

It was one of those what-did-you-do-for-the-day talks we have routinely, cos his sense of originality only brings him that far. Muahahaha.

Some guy’s place… Hmm..

I answered with cheeky ambiguity.

What did you do there?

Oh, I had a nice shag, that’s about it.

Yeah, right.

He saw through the obvious lie.

Why? You think that if one day I were to move on I would not really tell you honestly?

I asked inquisitely.

No, not that.

His answer was one of matter-of-fact. He knew I would. I suppose.

Hmmm…

So what did you do at your guy friend’s place.

Mahjong, the usual.

How boring, my life is.

***

The headache was absolutely awful.

So awful that it kept me awake all the way till 7 in the morning, and I could hardly breathe.

The lack of oxygen caused me to yawn and I was tearing from the right eye ceaselessly.

It was the same excruciating pain that nauseated me, and I nearly puked the drinks I had earlier out.

Standing up to make a trip to the washroom felt as if I was on a ship, and that I was seasick.

To distract myself from the pain, and the fact that I couldn’t really sleep nor blog(too painful to think), I ended up finishing half of my book before fatigue battled over the pain and I retired for the night.

***

I was jokingly thinking if it was possible that I might be having a brain tumour or some sort.

I even read up neurology for a good laugh.

But after talking to a dear, dear friend(that’s how dear she is to me) whom I haven’t spoke to for a long while earlier today, made me realise that a mutual pal of ours had recently gotten a brain tumour, and had it removed.

I haven’t been catching up with the said friend, nor the dear friend for a long while though they are both on my MSN list for the longest time.

His case is a genuine one, and I can’t believe that I had actually wanted to mention something regarding neurology light-heartedly in this post.

He found out about it one day when he was watching television, and he started to feel such a tremendously bad headache that he started barfing non-stop.

He sorted fainted and that was how it was discovered.

After it was removed, half of his body was paralysed. But I am so relieved and glad to hear that he is recovering well.

I can’t imagine if it was really me, cos I would doubt I would ever have the strength in me to deal with the initial shock and the harsh recovery period.

I would be thinking of all the worst possible scenerios.

I would be wondering if I look good bald though.

Get well soon, friend. You are strong and you know it. I am glad that you fought a tough battle, and is on a recovery of miraculous speed.

Bless you.

***

I spent 8pm to past 1am at Alvin’s for another game of… you guess it, Mahjong, today.

I was on such a streak of bad luck for the 1st round that, it was almost impossible for me to win despite waiting for the win very early in the game and that my hands were pretty nice…

Eventually, I ended the first round, being the only loser, down by 50 bucks! 35 to Denise, and 15 to Eric. Alvin broke even,

Can you blardy believe that?

When Edmund arrived at around 11, we had a change of seats, and suddenly my luck was picking up.

At the end of the night, for the 2nd round, I was the sole winner, and Denise lost 30 plus to me, Eric lost 15 to me. Edmund broke even.

When people say I am a lady of extremes, I didn’t expect them to mean such too.

Oh well.

I should be glad I am not broke.

Yay.

***

Now.

As I hear the rain pelting on my windows, I suddenly have this rekindled positivity in me.

Sadly, I know none of my positivities stay with me long enough to make me a constantly happy person.

Ah well.

I feel like holing up under the duvet and continuing with my read.

***

I did blog.

Somewhere.

Thrice.

So, I am actually quite productive these days.

***

I did something really silly in my sleep today.

I head butted the wall.

I heard a loud thud and FELT the pain when I was making a toss on the bed, and it woke me up immediately, as I whimpered for a few seconds before going back to sleep.

Now, now. It gives me a blardy good reason for me to get a head board for my blardy bed.

Maybe that explains the constant headaches I am having these days.

I didn’t know that I am even clumsy in my sleep.

And no, I didn’t hear an echo within when I hit my head, thus meaning, it ain’t hollow.

Thank you very much.

***

Monday.

I woke up around half past 2, after the book kept me awake till 7 in the morning.

I took a bus to Jurong East Central to run some errands, and took a walk to the nearby coffeeshop and had late lunch by myself.

I learnt a lesson.

Never use your EZLink card as a bookmark for the book you are reading.

Apparently, the card, which bore a value of 7 bucks(heart pain, alright?) in it, slipped out of the book when I was making my way to the bank.

Then again, on hindsight, never use a cash cheque with a value of a grand as your bookmark either.

Cos, you might be just glad that it was the EZlink card that slipped and not the cash cheque.

Phew.

I shouldn’t be complaining much, should I?

***

I swear I was going to walk home cos the weather was so cooling and nice.

And that I just had lunch and I felt really guilty about it.

And that I had just lost my EZlink card.

But, but, but!

It started drizzling.

So, it was just a very natural thing when my right hand shot up to stop the cab in sight.

Sigh.

The weather! Not me.

I couldn’t possibly take a bus home cos it is a long walk from the bus stop to my apartment.

It doesn’t quite make sense right?

Right.

***

SBB called after I had gotten back, and I giggled my way through on how I lost my EZlink card, and that I had some sort of premonition just before I left the house.

I even thought that it would be really hilarious if I lose my cheque, with it wedged between the pages, and thus, I was taking extra note of it.

Never did I expect I would really lose something.

Well done, Sweetie. You should be really glad you lose your EZlink card.

Thanks. The sardonic tone was so blardy obvious, you pig. Hmph. I am not usually that mistake-prone, alright?

***

Sweetie, you cheated! The last post on your blog! That’s cheating!

I could almost imagine the mock pout on his face as SBB hmphf-ed his way down the phone.

Serve you right for not understanding Chinese well.

I could offer you free lessons, ya know?

But, my rules, sweets.

You listen to me, and you have no rights to go against anything I say.

How does that sound?

Kinky Fair?

Whee. Next time I shall blog in Chinese whenever I wanna bitch about FF Jane Doe Mr Ex Make it 2 Mr Ex-es, since both guys suck at ChineseSBB.

I made a scary discovery.

Despite my penchant for Chinese language AND culture AND literature AND men(what so surprising about that?), I have never slept with one who could read Chinese well.

Maybe just one.

Do I see a pattern here or something?

No wonder my Mandarin is becoming sucky.

No puns intended.

***

Evening. House phone rang.

A sickly, weak voice that sounded forceless greeted me.

Hello… Ting…?

Yup?

Are you at home huh?

DUH. What kind of clever question was that? I just answered the house phone didn’t I?

Amazingly, I didn’t state the obvious with any exasperation.

Patience, I reminded myself.

Yeah, at home.

.. I am feeling very miserable. I am having a very bad tummyache, and I couldn’t stop puking. I couldn’t really walk either.

I could really hear the pain in her voice, and was getting slightly concerned.

What’s wrong? You feeling okay?

Wow, I never knew I was so capable of sounding so mellowed talking to her.

Is Dad at home with you?

No.

Can you ask him to come back? I… -fill in the repetition of her misery here-

Why not you go to see a doctor first?

I wasn’t patronising her. I really did want her to get some form of medical attention with the way she was sounding over the phone.

I can’t really walk, feeling too weak.

I am sure you have friends right? Get someone to come over and send you to the clinic or something.

She just didn’t get it, did she.

Get your Dad to come back earlier… I... -repeat the above-

Yeah, I know. But at least get someone to send you lah…

I don’t know anyone here.

Yeah, right.

Your neighbour or something? Or those people you attend your religious gatherings? Go get some medical attention first, will ya?

Call your Dad to come back earlier..

Yes, yes, I know. You go get someone to send you go to the clinic first and I will call him to go back. Wait for him for what?

I sounded as if I was coaxing some stubborn, sulking young girl as I said that.

The most patient I had ever been with her, I reckon.

***

I dialed for him, and his usual cheery voice upon hearing mine chirped.

Dad, where are you?

Am in town, at the clan. What’s up?

Mum just called and she sounded really bad over the phone. I think she doesn’t feel very well.

The mention of her set him off the wrong way.

Ai yah! She is always like that one. Just ignore her, only like to gain sympathy.

There was abundant annoyance in his voice.

I know, but she does sound really bad just now. Go back early and have a look at her la.

I retorted with a dash of impatience to him. Rare.

If she is really so unwell, she can go and see a doctor herself, can’t she? She is always like that one.

Yeah, I know. I already asked her to get the neighbours to send her to the clinic, but can’t you just check on her?

I was almost sounding as if I was ready to get into an argument with him. Or it already was an argument itself.

He brushed me off with a harsh tone as if I was nagging at him a tad too much, and we ended the phone call as if we were ready to smash the phone onto the cradle, in my case, and him, pressing on the ‘End Call’ button as if it was a detestable insect.

***

It was 8 plus in the evening, when my handphone beeped.

Dad.

Where are you?

At home.

Wanna have dinner? I am hungry and I have yet to eat.

Despite having a very late lunch that still left an aftertaste in my system, I decided that I really did want to spend more time with him.

Okay.

I pick you up in 15 minutes time.

Alright. See ya.

***

I grinned a smile of victory to myself.

If he was going to meet me for dinner, it would mean that he had left the clan early, and would be heading home back to Malaysia after dinner.

Despite showing that he didn’t give a damn and wouldn’t want to leave whatever he was doing earlier, the dinner invitation gave it away that he was still going home early.

It was also his way of making sure I have my dinner.

I always tell him that I tend to skip dinner cos I don’t really like to eat alone, and cooking for ownself is a stupid and uneconomical thing to do.

***

He picked me up and we went to the nearby coffeeshop, and I didn’t feel like having much.

Eventually, I ordered Roti Prata and he couldn’t help but pinch from my plate.

Dad doesn’t like to indulge in overly oily food since his bypass surgery a dozen years back.

He ordered Pork Chop, and despite my promise to my body that I wouldn’t add another inch of lard to it, I relented to my lack of self control and pinched from his plate.

It was rather fun as we shared and attacked each other’s food, and making small talks about this and that.

He complained slightly, and sulked a little, saying how the causeway would be really jam at this time, and he would take the 2nd link, which is more inconvenient.

Eventually he excused himself to buy some bread. And he even packed some food, obviously for the sickly one at home.

Something soupy and light.

I am not sure if it was that a daughter’s request was itself persuasive, or that he didn’t want to admit that he did care.

It eased my concern to know that he would be by her side for the night.

***

Now, I can’t help but wonder if this is how ‘care’ works in the family.

The sharp, pointed words hanging loosely from the mouths, triggered countless hostile verbal sparrings, and at the end of the day, it is from the tiny gestures that gave ourselves away, and yet no one would ever want to put down the stubborn prides of theirs to admit that they do, indeed, care.

I shudder to think that I have to admit that I do.

I really hope she is doing better and recovering well now.

It was a sweet night to remember.

To me.

***

Perhaps, I should learn to spare a bit of the sweetness for the folks at home, and leave the harshness to the sinister world.

***

I got back from dinner, and finished my book.

Where Rainbows End.

And I started onto the next book instantaneously.

The Lesson of Her Death.

SBB called really late, and was apologetic cos he was so occupied with his stuff that he had forgotten to call. Ended the call when it was almost 6 in the morning.

And the moment I finish with this, I shall hit back the book.

I can feel the nagging sharp tug at the right side of my head again.

***

The last day of November.

And we hereby prance over to the last month of the year.

How swift.

Terrifyingly so.

That’s right.

David Tao’s Love Can World Tour 2005, in Singapore.

不知怎么的，竟然有那么多的感触。

也不知怎么搞的，竟然心血来潮，想要用中文来表达。。(天啊！耗神，耗时唷，若有多余的能耐，我会考虑翻译成英文吧。）

也好。不要像上次那样，写在这里的东西（纯粹是为了娱乐效果！我可没那么花痴）竟然传到某人那里去，害我恨不得有个洞能把我吞掉。

呵呵，用中文保险些。就算写了些无厘头点儿的垃圾，也没多少人看得懂。

我可不是专业的乐评人，也没有资深记者的文采，有的，只是非常个人，绝对personal的观后感。

***

时间是11月26日的11点19分。

夹在两耳间的耳鸣令我有一种与现实超脱的快感。

步伐间，有一种说不出的轻快。

一大伙人，涌向了室内体育馆的出口，结束了如此精彩的一夜。

棒。

就是如此超赞。

***

å¿… 须先声明的是，耗了这么一大笔的储蓄（不要怀疑，我就是穷光蛋一个！恨不得想把那个在MSN随口问了问我是不是 ‘filthy rich’ 的家伙给宰了。。 说实在的，嘿，那家伙和这一章还蛮有瓜葛的）给足这位音乐教父面子，还豁出去买了不菲的中央座，并不是带着任何小歌迷的心态（read: groupie)。

我可不是对执著的歌迷有意见，而是我已有一把年纪了，也是时候把疯狂的权利拱手让给下一代了。

若我不是个老古董，或许还有少许可能吧。

试想想，要是哪一家没良心的报馆把我歇斯底里呐喊的丑态公诸于世，我这辈子就休想找个婆家嫁出去咯！

仪态，you know?

不是什么hardcore歌迷的心态，只是抱着享受听觉效果的期望。

虽然我得承认并不完全与今年初的邂逅无关（穿插记忆片断：陶喆饮料杯中的吸管断了，婷奋不顾身地。。。 拿了一支完好无损的给他。 哈哈！还端上了账单）。。。 但是！我是个讲求高素质的人，所以除了那一丁点的私心，若不是读了那么多一致的好评，我也不会做出如此的割舍。

所以，理由很简单。不怎么喜欢现在偶像充斥的商业市场（拜托！美丽的脸孔虽然养眼，但及可能是听觉上的折磨咧），只想给一个很有才华，认真做音乐的音乐人，一点点行动上的支持。

哇！伟大呗！哈哈。

***

独自在小贩中心草草解决了晚餐。

在那二十分钟内，坐在邻座的怪北北竟然目不转睛的瞪着我狼吞虎咽的丑态，令人挺不自在的。

心里直发毛。

走向地铁站的途中，我还不时地往后看，直到不见他人影时，才松了口气。

踏上月台时，已是7时。

到达政府大厦站时，是7点半的事了。

其实，时间是绰绰有余的。若搭上16号班车，只需十分钟吧。我也不太清楚，毕竟是第一次搭公车去体育场。

大街上，熙熙攘攘的人群，以及带着佳节喜悦的灯饰，让微寒的夜，多了一份舒适。

这里的街灯，也比乌节路那儿的顺眼多了。

7点50分。

一辆（下删一串三字经）的16号巴士终于缓缓驶来，载着一车的乘客。位子少得可怜，不少乘客也被迫得与站在身旁的陌生人有着‘肌肤之亲‘。

我的下场也落得如此。

踏上了阶梯，我被挤到司机的身旁，不得不给他一个尴尬的微笑。

我还算幸运啦，司机一路上，也没再停下来载客了。若我迟了些，或走到了下个站，或许就搭不上这班车了。

我身旁的阿婶和司机聊了起来，才知道原来今天有位司机请了假，又不巧有辆巴士抛锚了，16号巴士的班次，因此受到了严重影响。

到达室内体育馆，刚好8点正。

***

Patrick was already there waiting.

Patrick 可说是演唱会的常客，一听说陶先生要办演唱会，他也第一时间问了我是否有兴趣。理由很简单，在朋友群之中，没多少会对演唱会有兴趣。

上回K歌的时候，我们也大致上谈了谈对陶喆演唱会的期待，所以这一趟，是必然的。

也听他说过出席过的演唱会中，只有陶喆的音质是最有水准的。即使是刘天王，张天王之类的，也会随着演唱会的尾声，音质上会有所变化。

更期待了。

说到我嘛，可说是本地演唱会的virgin.

回想起来，我只看过一场演唱会。。。

对。就是那么一场。

6年前的事了。

***

It was 1999, the last day of my ‘A’ levels paper.

Chilly London, it was.

If my memory doesn’t fail me, it was 28th June 1999.

On the 29th, I was supposed to take a noon flight back to Singapore, bidding goodbye to Europe, for what would be a really long time, before I would ever grace the beautiful part of the world again.

We were liberated from the examination stress that had built up over that phase of our lives.

I had never been that stressed academically ever since. Perhaps, it was then, when I snapped. Muahahaha.

I remember it to be a really windy day, as we stood outside the Arena, queueing.

Sam. Arthur. Ken Shin. Chin Yee. Howe Szuan. Ting.

Jacky Cheung was on his World Tour, and yes, London was one of his stop.

Never had I ever been to a concert in my life, and the adrenaline was building up swift and thick.

A couple of the group had invested in premier tickets.

We had gotten the cheapest tickets for that concert, and if you convert it from pounds, it would have been quite a substantial amount, too.

But the few of us cheekily waited for the lights to dim, before scootering to the front and joined the rest at their seats, with the fabulous views.

Never did I feel so close to home when I was in London.

The Arena was filled with Chinese from all over the world, gathered there in a foreign place, brought together by a person we had gotten acquainted back home, through the media.

Nothing fanciful, just music.

We sat on the backs of the chairs, resting our legs on the seats, so that we would get a better view, as we yelled, shrilled, shouted, cheered in Mandarin, though we weren’t exactly considered as fans, but it just seemed like a fun and liberating thing to do.

Jacky Cheung paused for a moment as he asked the audience what would they like to hear.

Scattered screams were heard throughout the Arena, and nothing quite make sense when they came together.

Just at this brief moment when it was quietness, I used my broken Cantonese, and screamt, while sitting on the chair’s back, careful not to lose my balance, ‘张学友，只想一生跟你走!’

Blardy hell! I never felt so embarrass in my life as I had expected others to be screaming too, not a sole picture of insanity.

He looked to my direction, smiled, and turned to his band with a precise gesture.

He heard it.

The familiar introduction of the song rang, and my companions stared at me in a mix of amusement and amazement.

They promptly claimed credit for teaching me Cantonese enough for my one second of fame.

Memories.

So wonderfully beautiful.

I know this is irrelevant, but I remember that day to be really beautiful.

We ended the concert, and met up with a couple of other schoolmates, some of whom I was never close to, and we had so much fun having heart-to-hearts.

I thought it was sad that it came a tad too late. On the last day of my stay.

I remember this Taiwanese actually told me though he didn’t know me well nor was ever close to me, he had this slight sadness knowing that I would be leaving for good.

I stared across the table thoughtfully, with a tinge of misery in my eyes as I browsed each and everyone around the table.

It was 5am, when first signs of morning came through, and some of them wanted to take the first train home.

I was too tired. I shared a cab with Howe Szuan and Chin Yee.

It was the first, and final time, I saw London in its full morning glory.

I was never allowed the freedom to stay out late, not in London anyway, and that was, one beautiful picture that still etched in my mind.

I clearly remember, the view was blurred.

I wiped away, the ceaseless tears, as I turned my head as far back as possible as I see Leicester Square diminishing from my sight, within the frame of the cab.

That was probably the first time, I was aware that I grew to love London, something I had never expected back then.

Too late. You never know what you are missing then you lose them.

Since then, I had never attended another concert.

Not here. Not anywhere else in the world.

***

“就是爱你音乐惊奇之旅” 演唱会。

欸！太感性了吧。似乎有点离题了。

终于进场了！

从Patrick手中把门票抢了过来当作纪念。

热带森林的布景非常壮观，一进场就露了馅，说明了焦点不会是在视觉上。在舞台中央的直升机虽然助了浩大的声势，但也没带来多大的惊喜。

从一而终的舞台，虽然说不上什么华丽，也没有任何特别机关给观众带来多大的变化，但是我个人是非常喜欢的。

主题也非常明确地宣扬了爱与和平。

好丑咧。我可是冒着相机被充公的危险，所以不能用闪光灯。真是的。

8点半了，怎么还没开始啊？

身经百战的Patrick给我上了宝贵的一课。。 没有演唱会是会准时开幕的！！

***

蛮多熟悉的面孔的。

多数都是本地的艺人吧。

例如，不施脂粉的欧萱，过气SingaporeIdol 参赛者Olinda, 凶神恶煞but I like的苏志成。。 碰巧看到的。其他的，也没多加注意。

怪就怪在这些艺人能坐在最前排，但是陶爸爸和陶妈妈却坐在较为后面一点的位置。

***

当场内的灯光徐徐暗下，尖叫声也此起彼落。。。

荧幕上，故事的背景叙说着主题。

舞台上，乐手们，也从森林各角落一个，接一个地爬出，就了位。

强烈舞台灯光一打，这一场绝佳的演唱会，就此拉开了序幕。

又是一轮刺耳，却又振奋人心的尖叫声。

在舞台的正中央，主角正吊着钢索，缓缓地从空中降下。

似乎是很自然地，年过半百的我们（ahem. 加起来就有了！），也在这群年轻人堆中，忘我地呐喊着。歇斯底里，完全失控，神经错乱，无法自拔，毫无仪态，情绪失常，荷尔蒙失调。。。

真是XXYY的过瘾。

不要被认识的人看到就好。不要被媒体拍到就OK. 哈哈！

不然嫁不出去，变成老处女怎么办？！

身上穿着潇洒的白色西装，衬托着他乐手们也是一身夺眼的雪白配搭，非常绚丽。

他在空中连翻了两个跟斗，才把两脚着地，十分有架势地与观众问好。

银幕上的他没有太过浓郁的舞台妆，发型我也觉得挺帅的。心情，显然是漂亮的。

信心满满的男人，总是多了一种慑人的气质，令人叹为观止。

岁月也非常慷慨（不公平！）地赦免了他36岁男人该有的痕迹。甚至还完整地保存了一丝男孩的可爱气质。

男人的执著，男孩的率真。

互相抵触的特质，却融合成了非常独特的性格。

有趣，有趣。

掀开曲目的，是轻快的《找自己》，也渐渐把观众的情绪炒起来。

音响，很好。

***

不知何时，竟然没看到SBB 8点45分的来电。

摇了个电话回去，想问问看是否是之前的一些业务上的安排有了回应。

他忘了我昨天跟他说的演唱会。真是的，是不是全天下的男人都是如此健忘？还是我们女人说的话对他们而言都不是重要的？

哈哈。

就在说话的当儿，熟悉的introduction从那厚厚的帘后传出，我‘啊’了一下，顺口说了说那是我好想听到的歌哦。 时间也真够准确的，怎么他一打来，这首歌就起了。

他快快说了说再见，催我回到场内，才能值回票价。还真精打细算咧!

***

《爱我还是他》

黑暗中的我们都没有说话
你只想回家
不想你回家
寂寞深的像海太让人害怕
温柔你的手
轻轻揉着我的发
你的眉眼说
你好渴望我拥抱
你身体却在拼命逃
但欲望在燃烧
你爱我还是他
是不是真的他要比我好
你为谁在挣扎
爱我还是他
就说出你想说的真心话
你到底要跟我还是他
爱爱爱……
这是不是命运对我的惩罚
爱你也没办法
恨你也没办法
陷在这个漩涡只想挣脱它
拉住你的手
却让我也被拖下
你的眉眼说
你不渴望我拥抱
每当爱变成了煎熬
你就开始要逃
你爱我还是他
是不是我可以做他的好
你不再挣扎
爱我还是他
我宁愿听到残忍的回答
也不要再被耍
你爱我还是他
我为你找了一百个理由
我就是那么傻
爱我还是他
是否沉默代替你的回答
我应该明白吗
爱我是他噢
你都已看不到我们的好
我还会心牵挂
你爱我还是他
是否沉默就是你的回答
我们都别挣扎
去爱他

好听，好听。

***

就像一场大型的大合唱。

在回家的路途上，听到一位DJ给了他本身的见解。他说或许是因为陶喆的歌都不太属于K歌类型的，所以少了炒热演唱会的歌迷大合唱。

对此呢，我不愿置评，可能是因为我和Patrick都对每首歌都蛮熟的，几乎每首都能跟着拍子哼。结果好像是有三个人在开演唱会似的。

***

让我想一想，他唱了哪些耳熟能详的脍炙人口好歌。

《找自己》
《爱我还是她》
《飞机场的10.30》
《Runaway》
《流砂》
《天天》 当他说献给在座的有情人时，真是的，我们这些单身的怎么办??
《讨厌红楼梦》
《二十二》 我好喜欢这首歌。
《寂寞的季节》
《孙子兵法》
《Susan说》
《Dear God》
《摇篮曲》
《我的Anata》，本身得最爱。
《沙滩》
《鬼》
《黑色柳丁》
《王八蛋》
《普通朋友》
《Melody》
《Angel》
《小镇姑娘》
《今天没回家》
《月亮代表谁的心》
《宫保鸡丁》
《爱，很简单》 若少了这首经典，不知道歌迷会否退票。 也让我回想了中四那一年。
《蝴蝶》，非常，非常感人。
《就是爱你》

还有一连串的英语CLASSICS, 把气氛搞得类似Zouk的Mambo night. 他说，三十多岁的，听了这些歌，一定很有感觉。

是挺有感觉的。

但。。但。。但是，不会吧！我怎么都会唱？我离30还有一段路，好不？

我应该。。假装听不懂。

***

有那么一幕，他停了下来，歇了歇，喘了口气。

他说，他‘可口’。

大家愣了一下，看见他把在台上的塑料瓶拿起，都会意识地笑了。台上的乐手们也很契合地笑了，只有他不知状况地傻笑。有点愣。

大家又笑了。

可口否，我们不知道，可没试过。

但是，他的确看起来蛮可口 口渴的。

哦，亲爱的，你歌迷手上的，是太阳花，可不是什么菊花。。

天啊！菊花是拿来。。 嗯。。 还是别提了啦。

中文程度也真是有限公司。即使大家都被逗笑了，只有他，似乎还不知道自己闹了笑话。

***

第一节告一个段落的时候，他从舞台上消失了几分钟。

再一次上台的时候，穿着的，就是在媒体上常看到的那一套鲜红的袒胸装。若隐若现地掩饰着姣好的身材。胸前的十字架项链也非常强眼，似乎是他宣告自己的信念的一种方式。

6块腹肌果然可口。

我想我可不是唯一一个在台下淫笑的纯情少女吧。

*咳*，对，非常纯情。

***

小小的遗憾。美中不足的地方应该是歌迷太保守了吧。

循规蹈矩。

其实，换个角度来看，或许是本地的演唱会场地太多有的没的烦人规矩。

观众都是乖乖地坐在原位，偶尔挥一挥手中的荧光棒，默默地沉醉在音符中。

若有人能带头撒一撒野，伸展一下极限，或许能更好地带动气氛哦。

别问我为何不是我。我也想啊，但是得梳个辫子什么的。。 其实不是啦，是我身旁的那一位先生觉得若被守卫驱赶，会非常难堪，没面子。

看了看一些外国演唱会的镜头，总觉得本地的，少了一种凝聚力和爆发力。

比了比今年和去年的Festival of Praise, 还是觉得去年当我们一涌而上，冲到了舞台边缘的那一段，是最沸腾的。

可惜，今年却没有往年的一斑疯狂。

所以，当陶先生决定‘I’m gonna bend the rules here’的时候，或许是大家期待已久的大解放吧。

当他从台上跃下，与歌迷近距离接触，场内是一片澎湃。

High. High. High.

费尽千辛万苦, 才能躲开那些眼尖的ushers，偷偷地摄取这些镜头。

或许是我比较奸诈狡猾吧。

嘿嘿嘿。

后来，他在台上说被某人摸了一下。。

What can I say? Way to go! Good job, mate!

也真是的，怎么那么多人当中，只有一个人敢摸。。。

哦，若是我的话，我可是非常淑女的。。。 很有形象的，非常规矩的，保有仪态的。。。当然是乘机摸啦。

我是说。。 手啦，脸啦。你想到哪儿去了？

说实在的，我还是认为站着看演唱会，最有感觉。

***

他，的舞台魅力是无人可及的。

即使当他偶尔忘了词，只要皱了皱眉头，七情上面地吐了吐舌头，台下的歌迷早被他杀死人不偿命的可爱表情迷死了，谁还记得他忘词啊？

***

他与在台上的乐手的互动，使得这一场演出有非常大的流畅感。

他们的默契，也带给了观众更多的温馨及感动。

乐手的才华也和他的表演，相辅相成，紧紧扣着观众的心弦。值得一提的是，这场演唱会上，有许多都是本地的才子，才女。

给我最大震撼力的是来自本地的吉他手兼和音- David.

尤其当他铆足了力，挥洒自如地唱出‘Sweet Child Of Mine’,我仿佛有一种初恋的感觉。。。

觉得他超可爱哦！超帅好不好？

可惜人家可是有温柔贤淑，美丽可爱的女友，轮不到我嘞!

两个男生在台上飚歌时的默契，好得让台下的我们直呼过瘾。

所以即使我站在离舞台很近，结果拍的不是陶喆，而是他的其中两位和音。。

不要对我对可爱的定义有怀疑。有内涵和才华的男生就是很有魅力，好不好。

其实，也拍了另两位让我印象深刻的，但是太模糊了，上载了也没意思。

其中一位和音女声，就是名字被陶喆取笑的甜美女生，也是本地的 ‘pride and joy’, Kewei. Tay. 结果，被取笑成了‘takeaway’。

谁取的呀，还真有丁点创意的。

相信过了这场演唱会后，大家一定会对她有非常深的印象。好有潜力的明日之星唷.她的声音属于高亢，清澈型，也和陶喆飚了一段歌，秀了一段舞。 虽有点嫩，但非常有朝气。

最喜欢她拉二胡时的专注表情。

其实，也拍了另两位让我印象深刻的，但是太模糊了，上载了也没意思。

其中一位就是才华洋溢的吴庆隆。他也是这一场演唱会的音乐总监。

钢琴王子，就是他也。

其实，他的名字，若干年前，早已略有所闻，但没想到，今年三月我在餐厅里招待的那看起来文静，沉默的男子，穿上白色西装，手指在琴键上任意漫游，不时指挥着乐队，竟是如此的。。。 如此的。。。如此的。。

Oh no. I am speechless.

另一位在法国长大的和音女声，LISA, 非常地impressive.

具爆发力的声音，以及毫不怯场的演出，非常的棒。非常具磁性的一把好声，性感，独特。

也是多才多艺的女生，吹奏了长笛。

***

当观众一窝蜂的挤向舞台，Patrick 忽然拉着我往前跑。

我跟在后面，突然有一种年轻10岁的感觉。

当我们往回走的时候，我往右边瞄了瞄。一张熟悉的面孔。我愣了愣，脸上忽然抹上了一丝惊奇的表情。

我认得他。

陶大伟，陶爸爸，以及坐在他身旁的陶妈妈。

眼神交错了一下下，他似乎看出了我认得他，因而点了点头。突然间有一股小小的冲动对他俩说，‘妈妈好喜欢你们哟，可以和你们拍个照吗？’

想了想，我可不想侵占别人的私人空间，或被保安轰出去或是什么的。

微微笑了笑，往后边走去。

***

在encore的部分，他唱了3首歌。

不。不是那首经典的 ‘I love you.. 一直在这里baby… 一直在爱你..’。

真是的，从1997等到现在，为什么就是没人对我深情演唱这支歌？？

说起这首，我还真有点失望没有听到原版的I love you. 真想听听看英文版的会有什么不同之处。

哦。要提的，就是这一首，《蝴蝶》。

***

蝴蝶

當這世界已經準備將我遺棄 像一個傷兵被留在孤獨荒野裡
開始懷疑我存在有沒有意義 在別人眼裡我似乎變成了隱形
難道失敗就永遠翻不了身 誰來挽救墮落的靈魂
每次一見到你 心理好平靜 就像一隻蝴蝶飛過廢墟
我又能活下去 我又找回勇氣 你的愛像氧氣幫忙我呼吸
我又能呼吸 我又能呼吸 你就是不願意放棄
生命充滿亂七八糟的問題 像走在沒有出口的那個迷宮裡
oh no 一次又一次只會用藉口逃避
怎麼你從來沒對我徹底的死心 我有何德何能值得你珍惜
為何你對我有求必應 每次一想到你 像雨過天晴
看見一隻蝴蝶飛過廢墟 是那麼的美麗 就像一個奇蹟
讓我從倒下的地方站起 Woo….只要一靠近你
就覺得安心 你看著我的眼沒有懷疑 你對我的相信
讓我又能重生 不管世界多冷我還有你 我有你
愛我這樣的人對你來說不容易 我的痛苦你也經歷
你是唯一 陪我到天堂與地獄 每次一想到你
像雨過天晴 看見一隻蝴蝶飛過了廢墟
我能撐得下去 我會忘了過去 是你讓我找回新的生命
yeah.. 每次一見到你 就心存感激 現在我能坦然面對自己
我會永遠珍惜 我會永遠愛你
在我心底的你的位置沒有人能代替 yeah 你就是那唯一

***

感触，是来自这一首歌的故事。

他写这首歌是，是在人生低潮的时候。

写的意义，是感谢上帝在他生命里给予的力量与支柱，写的，也是他与上帝之间的关系。

而这首歌，也给予了一位绝望地想结束自己生命的他，重新站起来的希望。

听了，想哭。

毕竟，我还在忧郁的边缘挣扎着，也因为这一低潮期，更觉得自己对不起上帝，渐渐地，感觉到更多的无奈，与无助。

听的，隐隐约约是自己的故事。

但是，又是不是的。

有的，是一阵阵的涟漪。。 似乎提醒着我些什么。

像是，我一直在躲避的，我一直不敢面对的，不想直视的。

有一丝丝的羞愧，一丝丝的彷徨。。。

在一个阴暗的角落，被唾弃，被遗忘。

体无完肤，遍体鳞伤，支离破碎，不堪回首。

不胜负荷。

***

没有喧宾夺主妖冶夸张的造型，没有过于绮丽花俏的服装，没有天花乱坠的奇特舞台机关，没有绚丽出众的嘉宾助兴，没有无聊滑稽的噱头。

一切拿捏的，很好。

闷？ 谁说的?

没了些有的没的画蛇添足，只把一切专注在音乐的呈现方式上，给了观众一场值回票价的演出。

音乐，本来就是用耳朵听，用心去感觉。

少了其他官感上的distractions, 或许能让我们利用耳朵，与心的极限去感应。

纯音乐的享受，就该是如此。

就这样，一场听觉与感觉的震撼的演出，无不缺诚意，也突出陶喆具层次感的音色，以及沉着的versatility.

他也用了自己的陶式幽默娱乐了大家，也透露因喝了某人带来的‘很多味精的汤’，结果声音很干。

说实在的，他的现场演唱功力非常到家，即使声音真的有点干，还真有点听不出来。

由始至终，仍是浑厚，非常power的。

拉音不错，肺活量也超棒。

漂亮。

***

为。什。么。就。是。没。有。脱。

还以为可以大饱眼福。

不好意思，我就是如此的一个大色胚。

***

像是一瓶红酒中的佳酿。

香醇的。浓郁的。让人如痴如醉的。

含在口中，慢慢的细心品尝，从余味中，揣测酒中的elements.

细细地咀嚼出其中的感性。

令人意犹未尽。

***

Patrick gave me a lift out of the war zone in Kallang when the flock of audiences made their exits out of the stadium.

He dropped me off at Raffles Place MRT station, where I hopped on a west-bound late train.

A call came in just as I stepped into the station.

Dad, it was.

Apparently he was heading for home from Tanjong Pagar and asked where was I.

What great timing, I thought to myself.

I skipped off the train when the next stop hit, and there he was, just reached.

It was just approaching midnight.

Somehow, the familiarity of my dad right next to me, gave me some form of comfort for the night.

Dad suggested supper, and yet when I reached Clementi, the urge to eat dissipated almost immediately.

Yet, having a nice, chilled drink was what I needed.

Sat around and chatted with my dad.

Sometimes it is interesting to see how much I could open up to him at times.

I couldn’t remember what I said, but I had wanted him to place his order first, or something, which prompted him to pout a little, like a child.

I burst out laughing in disbelief, and claimed back the sole proprietorship to be the only one entitled the privilege to pout and sulk.

Very rare to see that side of him.

It is scary to see how much he has aged.

It is almost becoming painful to look at him, to scrutinise every line and grey in sight.

I really wish I could be that someone he is proud of, one day, soon.

Came home when it was almost one, still charged from the adrenaline from the concert.

And seeing how I struggled through this piece of Chinese writing, I shall never, ever blog in Chinese again.

My neck and spine hurts.

I hope it doesn’t aggravate my scioliosis.

***

Happy birthday to 2 very beautiful individuals whom I got to know from blogging.

Kenny and Sheron.

May the year ahead be filled with blessings and love.

More importantly, happiness.

Thanks for teaching me about life, and so much more about friendship.

Thanks.

Really.

How I wish I am somewhere out there, in cold, freezing Europe.

London, Florence, Venice, Paris, wherever.

Pierce by the icy winds, squeeze the life out of me as I lapped my trenchcoat tighter, as I stroll in the blizzard storm, into a warm home with big glassed windows.

The prettily-shaped white snow shall fall into the midst of my hair, sending chills to all parts of me through the scalp.

I will brush the flaks off my coat, as I rubbed my chilled hands together, after releasing them from the warmth of the tight leather gloves.

My nose would be red and cold, as I sniffed the coldness in deeply. The nose would run, no doubt.

I shall brew a pot of Earl Grey and sat by the window, watching the world being painted a shade of pure, glaring white, layer, by layer.

Aha! Here comes the untypical.

It shall not be jazz on the stereo this time.

Some heavy metal music would be cool. Get the spirits masquerading.

The man shall then take his place next to me, on the cosy couch, and gave a reassuring tight cuddle from the back, planting soft kisses on my neck as he embraced me from behind, as I lean on him, in between his legs.

A nice movie shall follow, on the 42-inch plasma television hanging by the wall, as we snuggle close on the royalty-like bed. Big, high from the ground, soft and gentle on the skin.

Gentle yet passionate pecks on the forehead, as we tuck in deeper into the duvet, gather deeper into each other’s embrace, as our toes tickled by the felt sheets.

As the snow comes down swiftly, picking up its pace, masking the world, never would we feel so protected, and detached.

Right then. An impulse hits.

As I pulls his hand, grabs a coat randomly, we shall venture into the open, merging with the picture of white.

Laughing, jostling, kicking, giggling, tickling, bantering, having one hellavu snow fight.

Without a care. Burdenless.

Stopping for an occasional kiss or cuddle.

We would then, dance in the snow.

The time of our lives.

However brief.

I AM NOT NAIVE.
I AM NOT NAIVE.
AM NOT.
AM NOT!

Stupid SBB.

AM NOT! Understand?!

Great. I will now spend my Friday questioning myself over and over again.

***

I woke up today after almost 12 hours of sleep.

I was so tired that when I woke up in need of the toilet break, I slept on instead.

I retired early last night(in my standards), and greeted the day when it was 3pm!

Utter abhorrence.

Laundry, reading, and cracking my brain for solutions to questions.

The latter proved to be unproductive, and I ended up chasing my own tail, running in circles that clogged my brain up further.

Don’t feel like heading out today.

But then again, I have been saying that for everyday for the past week, but the record is, I was out every darn day from Tuesday to Thursday.

Gee.

***

Tuesday. 22nd.

Had thought it was going to be a quiet day, and I agreed to help out the telemarketing thingy I mentioned oh-so often.

But, it was called off the last minute, which freed up my evening.

I heaved a sigh of relief as I thought of the liberation.

I agreed to a movie invitation from Wei Kang and he had booked the tickets to Oliver Twist online.

Suddenly, the message from Jane Doe came in, suggesting dinner.

I excused myself that I already had a prior appointment, and she suggested that I cancelled the date, and she would even pay for the tickets on my behalf.

It is on very rare occasions that Jane Doe could join us, and due to some sensitive factors, I did the unthinkable.

I called up the very nice chap and cancelled on him.

!!!!!!

Guilt! Guilt! Guilt!

FF was scheduled to have her Mandarin classes and had not wanted to head out either, but she eventually could join us after her lessons.

So, the impromptu girls’ night out which didn’t seem possible, took place.

Yay.

I joined VampTreSS and Jane Doe who were already in town, at Heeren Spinelli’s.

It was a chilly night.

How very cold.

Suddenly, a lean and cool image drew all my attention.

I looked at the person’s chiselled features, and fell in love.

The body slumped on the chair lazily. Short wisps of hair fell over the pair of intense eyes which were observing the surrounding. The pair of sturdy arms(I saw the defined muscles within the orange long sleeved shirt!) stretched out into the air casually, as a yawn plastered across the handsome face.

I stared. Hard.

Jane Doe nudged me a little, ‘Stop staring! Pluck your courage to go up and say hi.’

But, but, but, I am not a lesbian!

So we launched into a debate if it was a he or she.

My gut feelings told me it was a she, and it was no surprise when she was sitting upright, we saw the sports bra within, and the evidence of the cold showed up at the front of her thin shirt.

Slightly disappointed, but I still couldn’t stop gawking.

She would look so handsome on pictures.

Gee.

She has nice, long fingers.

Just an innocent observation! Honest!

***

Jane Doe drove us to Selegie’s Mr Bean, where FF joined us shortly after.

Dinner was fulfilling as we spoke of the days’ events, and updating stuffs that some of us haven’t heard from each other for a long while.

Worries. Friends. Hiccups. And the usual 3-lettered word, which could also contrued by some rude 4-lettered word.

I swear I didn’t contribute much to that.

We didn’t realise that the boss of the place was sitting behind us all along, and had overheard us singing birthday song to the sexy birthday girl when we litted a candle on top of a brownie.

We yakked away boisterously, oblivious to who were listening to us, with the usual juicy gossips that might be too rude for good, clean family reads, so I shan’t repeat them here.

I haven’t met up with these darlings for a long while, and it is always revitalising for the souls when you do.

It is almost like Alcoholic Anonymous.

***

Happy birthday darling.

May you find the free-spirited soul and happiness back in you.

***

The nice boss started a conversation with us, and in FF’s words, offered his brother to us.

Okay, fine. Me.

Cos the 3 girls had portrayed me to be the desperate and unwanted one of the group.

Wait.

Brother.

Youngest brother. 25 years old. Not that, you sleazy minds.

Fair. Tall. Filial. Family-oriented. 5-series BMW. Some lecturer.

I shall not mention how I wished I was dead when he said I could always drop by one of their family days, so I could meet the potential mother-in-law as well.

Gasp.

I shall not mention how he didn’t seem like he was joking when he asked me to send in my resume, and I thought I had a job offering or some sort.

Then I nearly fell off the chair when he said something along the line of ‘biodata’, apparently for matchmaking purposes.

I love hanging out with all these babes. They are so charming that the boss had insisted of buying us a round of tea.

If you are a freeloader wannabe, you should start to wriggle your way through to hang around them.

***

FF left early and the remaining 2 babes hung out with me till around 1am, when SBB reached to pick me up for home.

We were talking about the IRC days, and such, when one of their old IRC pals turned up at the eatery.

They were really pleasant and sweet, no wonder for the nickname of ‘Carebear’.

Coincidentally, we also saw Sandralicious’ drummer beau, Brandon, at the same joint that night.

SBB and I left just as the drizzle started coming down swift and intense.

Cold. Very cold.

Br….

***

Spent the early part of Wednesday noon with SBB, before he left around 4pm.

Wei Kang picked me up for movie in the evening after his work, and I insisted on buying him dinner cos of he eventually let the 2 tickets went to waste, without going to the movie either.

We had reached Lido in the evening, amongst the heavy offwork traffic.

Coincidentally, bumped into Brian, who was at Cream Bistro across the road, alone, waiting for Max’s grand arrival, and introduced the 2.

We checked the movie schedule and nothing seemed interesting enough.

He then decided we shall scrap the movie plans and have dinner instead, and we made our way to Wheelock Place, Big O restaurant.

On our way there, I caught a glimpse of Max and girlfriend heading down from the escalator, but didn’t manage to get their attention to say hi.

Since I wasn’t feeling too well, I decided to go for a chocolate durian cake instead of proper food.

We exited from the restaurant and headed to Borders’.

Read.

Read.

Browse.

Browse.

Spent much of the evening at different spots of the bookstore, checking out different genres of books.

I eventually saw 4 books which caught my fancy but was too broke to afford any of them.

Perhaps I should head down to the 2nd hand book shop in Holland Village to have a look over the weekend.

Eventually, we left the place around 9, and have no where to go.

Home, it shall be.

We stopped by the bistro to say bye this time round, before we headed off to pick up his car at the carpark.

Brilliantly, we had both forgot to take note which level we came down from earlier.

Eventually, I gave a rough figure of 7(which is my favourite number), and eventually found the car at 6th storey.

The very nice gentleman sent me home.

It was then another call came in from Alvin, and asked if I would love a game of mahjong.

He picked me up close to 11pm, and then went to pick Eric up. We gobbled up some McDonald’s in record-breaking time before we got the game started.

And thus, my evening’s programs continued on till past 3am in the morning, with 22 bucks of winnings.

Eric and Seng are pretty interesting chaps to be playing with.

And I am fast morphing into an auntie a taitai, no less.

Buy me a Rolex watch so I could unintentionally show off as I wash the tiles, and perhaps a Gucci bag to tote around with my winnings would be a good idea.

Oh wait. I don’t need those already, do I? *Cough* How haughty.

Perhaps a rich husband or something, or a bunch of women to have high-tea with me in the afternoons.

There, my perfect tai tai lifestyle.

Still, it’s not really the ideal lifestyle I am looking for.

***

I am glad to have kickstarting something in the process.

I just hope it will get into motion pretty swiftly and I would be glad to see where it would go in the near future.

Having something in the pipeline is always so exciting and refreshing.

Patience, Ting, patience.

***

Woke up on Thursday, feeling totally dazed, when a call from SBB ended the brief rest I had.

Realised I had missed a couple of calls cos I didn’t hear them ringing at all on my handphone.

I couldn’t return the call, cos I later read an email from the caller that he didn’t have his handphone with him and he was calling from a friend’s place which I couldn’t call back.

Um… okay…

It was around 1.30 when he called again, and we arranged to meet at Paragon, at 3pm.

Lack of sleep is not healthy for the mind and body.

When I reached Paragon, I started to wonder which part of Paragon were we supposed to meet.

I took an escalator down to Starbucks, and a call from the public phone came in.

And after a brief ‘Okay I see you!’, the caller hung up and I was left confused.

I walked around and finally saw the familiar figure, flashing a grin that revealed the obvious gap between his 2 front teeth.

Cameron would be in Singapore briefly, and we had arranged for a catch up yesterday afternoon.

Had lunch at IndoChine, Wisma, with a seat in the open, which gave us a good view of the human traffic on a warm Thursday afternoon.

The weather wasn’t as cooling as the week’s.

But the laid-back Aussie boy’s easygoing nature was cool. I had a great time catching up with him, since this is probably the first time we really have the chance to have a proper talk since getting acquainted 2 years ago.

We didn’t get to see each other till MotoGP in Sepang, where he came in first for the support race.

And he started talking about how I was this gigglish young girl with braces, stick-thin and not talking much back then. Pink top, baggy pants.

*GASP IN UTTER HORROR*

I couldn’t stop cringing thinking back.

And then as I searched for the pictures we had taken back then, I burst out laughing and sent him a copy of those atrociously horrifying pictures.

EEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

Tell me what the hell was I trying to do.

And gosh. What slim arms I had in the past.

Sigh.

He spoke of the changes in me, and we spoke of my breakup with Philip and such and such.

2 years later.

He’s such a down-to-earth character and a nice, genuine friend.

Cracked me up most of the time, and we sat around till 6 plus, made a quick trip to Paragon(we jay-walked! Gasp!) cos he had to take some pictures of the stalls for a friend, before we headed off to check out if there’s any nice movies at Lido. None.

I have been Lido so many times in the past 2 weeks, compared to the past 6 years.

We headed to DFS, walked around town a bit, before we parted at Isetan Scotts.

I made a quick trip to Clarke Quay to Saatchi Lab for a casting, which obviously, I doubt I would make it.

Took a long walk around town, and was in need of a place to sit down, post-casting. Tired and exhausted.

I headed into a cyber-cafe and spent 45 minutes in there, before heading back to Clarke Quay by bus to meet up with the Ozzy boy.

Sat down with Cameron at Crazy Elephant as we waited for Raf’s arrival.

I haven’t seen the babe for the longest while.

The 3 of us had great time catching up, speaking of mutual people we knew from the past, and made some mean jokes here and there just to liven up the night.

Oh oh oh, and gossips about the MotoGP riders from the other side of the globe, too.

It was also there, where we saw this thingy, and still, no one had told me what it is for.

Headed to T.C.C. for some snacks and coffee, before we finally bade him goodbye at midnight.

Take care, and good luck with the endurance race this weekend.

Raf and I stayed out a little and just sat outside Attica to catch up, till it was slightly past 1am, when we hopped on a cab for home.

I tried to do some reading but succumbed to the sleepybug nearing 4am.

This, shall end my rather boring recap for the week.

Let’s see what I can cook up with later tonight, after I do some more reading, and if I have no further plans.

I can’t wait for tomorrow though.

Yay.

***

I don’t know why but I thought about the people around me last night.

I suddenly decided I shall draw up a prayer list.

And I did something I haven’t done in a long while.

Pray.

In tongues.

I didn’t realise my list is so darn bloody long.

I hope everyone is well.

I couldn’t quite sleep last night, probably due to some PMS-related crankiness.

So, I am extremely tired at this moment, having just returned from town(woe is me! Midnight cab fares are exhorbitant!), too exhausted to be blogging.

Therefore, I shall take a raincheck, and possibly write something kinky tomorrow(*cough* short one), if I have the creative juices flowing.

With my laziness, I shall now continue on with some reading, as I repose on my bed, giving my body some deserved rest.

Besides staying home on Monday, 21st, to blog and finish my read, which I brilliantly did so with flying speed.

I was gobsmacked to find that I had only finished the first of the 12-book series of Left Behind.

I shall say that it got me hooked to the book(gave me chills sometimes too), though I still find the plots and story a tad too thin for my liking.

But the importance isn’t of such.

I had a dream some days back that prompted me to read the book, and Philip had coincidentally urged me to read the book so I could return the book to him soon.

Now, I will continue with my Michael Connelly’s Closers, before I will go on to John Harvey’s Flesh and Blood.

I went to Borders on Wednesday and felt there is an incredible urge to buy these 4 books off the shelves.

I had a great time on Tuesday and Today(Thursday). Perhaps the early half of Wednesday as well.

So it’s no wonder that it would be some SBB-related recap tomorrow, and the same old same old about meeting up different people throughout the week.

He complained I cheated with the previous post, cos I had recycled the post I had written elsewhere.

Lazy, you see.

And yes, if you had played the sound bar, it is my voice you hear. *Shudders* Have no doubt.

I was darn cranky yesterday, I tell you.

It’s pretty odd that the depressive nature only set in after 4am, after an intensive day of activities.

I feel like a neurotic weirdo when SBB called today in the morning just to ask if I had *cough* accidentally or *cough* intentionally hurt myself.

Bleah. It reminded me of the time when Philip had told me that he was afraid to return home one day to find me dead from an overdose or a slashed wrist.

Ah well.

Okay, I have been typing too much here, haven’t I?

Truth is I feel like blogging but I know my body wouldn’t take it well if I continued on.

So I shall leave this post with an interesting sighting at Clarke Quay today when I did a little bit of catching up with a couple of pals.

Can any kind souls please tell me what is thing gigantic.. erm.. thingy doing in the midst of the flamboyant Clarke Quay, which seems so out of place and suggestive?

No, don’t start saying I have a sleazy mind, thus for the sleazy thoughts.

You just gotta see it for yourself.

Gee.

Is this really happening in Singapore?

So, what purpose does it really serve?

Ouch.

***

Hello weekend.

Whee!

***

Is this the end?

Or will this be a new beginning?

I decided to give it a go, again.

Gee, you mortals will be thinking it is SBB-related right?

No.

Not at all.

***

Hey.

After how you came through all these, I really thought it was a shame if you were to give it all up now.

I really wish to help, somehow.

Sometimes, there will come a point, you will not be totally honest with your true feelings to those closest to you anymore.

At the end of it, what you are seeing, is people trying to change you, perhaps for the better of you(and you know that very well), or perhaps they get tired of seeing what they think they shouldn’t be seeing.

There will come a point, you will stop opening up, cos that is not what they wanna see, wanna hear, wanna feel.

There will come a point, you will step back into that shell where you tore and dug the walls with your bare hands, after getting your fingers all bloodied and bruised, just to get out of.

There will come a point, you will see no point in baring your thoughts or innest most insecurities cos you feel asphyxiated with the responses you get.

Instead of getting the solace you were seeking, you might end up feeling more emptiness and dissatisfaction than before.

Some of such intimate thoughts and observations, are what people want to hear nothing about.

I know. I’ve learnt.

Not to burden anyone with own thoughts anymore.

Stop sapping others’ energy.

Everyone hates being emotional support, like how he had admitted how much he hated it.

Time to shrink back, baby.

Time to put those thoughts into the box, and lock them away. Buried. Hidden. Hushed.

Don’t even try to pry open the Pandora’s box now.

Some questions are better left unanswered, and stones unturned.

Put it simply, the answers might not be satisfactory for all to accept them wholeheartedly with grace.

That’s how we all work. We would end up doubting, and thinking how others are doing are not appropriate, and that our answers, should be their model answers, just for things to work.

It is like how I stopped asking why some of my friends react the way they do when placed in certain predicaments, cos I know their answers would not be substantial to convince me, or they might just contribute more to the frustration, which might not be much to start off with.

I learnt leniency is the way to go.

Exasperation is not the way to go.

No definitives.

Silence.

I don’t ask, doesn’t mean I don’t care.

I have just learnt to go by faith.

Until curiosity intervenes, that is.

***

Pandora’s box

A source of unforeseen trouble, as in Revising the tax code is opening a Pandora’s box. This equivalent for the modern can of worms comes from the Greek legend in which Pandora, entrusted with a box containing the world’s ills, is overcome by curiosity and opens it, thereby releasing them. [Late 1500s]

***

In a lighter note, these are the video clips you have been waiting for.

Cringe-worthy stuff, alright?

Be warned.

And if you see someone holding a cigarette and puffing amateurish in the video clip.

That wasn’t me.

Even if it was me, I stopped and would like to advise all youngsters not to follow suit.

Alright people, enjoy.

http://www.v1da.com/images/beautiful.html

And.

*Breathe in*

I really adore the weather to bits these days.

Chilly, windy, soothing.

Days like this, I feel like throwing a baggy woollen sweater over myself, the only problem being I don’t have a baggy woollen sweater for me to do such.

I was standing by the window yesterday, sipping my hot cup of Earl Grey, and feeling so much cosiness as the cold caressed my shoulders, arms and collarbones.

My hair danced and raved playfully in the soft breeze.

Though I had wished for some touch of skin, that would add on to the intimacy level.

Is that the reason why I love winter? To overlap my trench coat with a tight pull, as I strut down the freezing streets(minus the nose dripping part) with the tip-tap of my boots, looking for a cosy place for a cup of hot cocoa.

I can’t really attribute the lack of updates to the lack of enthusiasm, cos I had a nagging urge to blog, but was either:

1) Out in the evening hanging out with nice company. Wine. Drinks. Food. Fags. Videos. Pictures. Hospital. DoctorsDrop-dead cute cute doctors. Live band. Mahjong. Too tired to write when I got home. Bedtime is early for me these days, remember?

OR

2) Nicotine Withdrawal Symptoms Feeling the effects of nausea, cold sweat, grogginess, headache, and was feeling too much discomfort to be confined right before the monitor to type away. The screen’s light irritated me and set off more discomfort than before.

OR

3) On the phone.

OR

4) Enticed by the assortment of quality programs on Discovery Channel and National Geographic over the week.

OR

5) Read Struggling to read, when my world was constantly spinning around, and the words on the book, dancing.

OR

6) Blogging elsewhere. Like how I had blogged 3 entries at 3 different places today. And no, you won’t get access to it, unless you are the privileged ones. *Evil laughs*

OR

7) Planning for my plastic surgery.

OR

Starring in my own pornographic production.

Ahem.

Yeap. One of the above is untrue.

No, not the Discovery Channel part, though it is highly suspicious that a lady of my caliber(-cough- bimbo -cough cough-) would understand what the hell they are spewing forth in the program.

And despite you thinking that I am *cough* *COUGH* *AHEM* *ya, right* oh-so perfect, I do need plastic surgery.

The weekend had been the same old same old.

So, you thought my Sunday would be a wee bit more exciting, eh?

Besides blogging part of my day away, and bickering with SBB over the phone, with him nearly scaring me to death when he bluffed he had guessed my password to my secret blog.

And his persistent babyish pleas for me to reveal the password(muahahaha, so cute), with constant emotional blackmailing slipping into the picture.

Denise and Alvin had asked me for another round of mahjong for the night, and I declined since I was still yakking away with SBB on the phone, and was too lazy to head anywhere.

Denise grabbed Alvin’s phone over, and it was another case of guilt-tickling, when she emotionally blackmailed me with her sweet saccharin pleas, that coerced me into giving in.

I officially declare I loathe anyone with a killer baby voice.

Bad move on her part.

I ended up halting all her big winning chances, and came home with a wallet, plump from the 35 bucks winning.

Sigh, quoting Alvin, it’s about time I win since I had been losing for the past couple of times.

Yes yes, thanks to SBB, who decided to end my agony before I left for the game, or else my mind would be shuttling places throughout the game, letting my imagination and worries run amok.

Lazy and easy Sunday, that ended with my indecision to chat on MSN, concentrate on my book(which is really slow-moving cos I had blogged endlessly, leaving little space for it), focus on the CSI: Miami screening on AXN, OR pay some attention to this entry so I would keep to my promise that I would end this post by Sunday.

Which obviously, I failed to do yesterday, cos I was occupied by other stuff on hand.

Had tried to turn in at 3 plus, but the alert bug in me fought hard with the sleepy bug, and I couldn’t quite resist the temptation of reading another couple of chapters of my book, stealing a peek of CSI: Miami on and off.

Crawled right back to the computer screen at 5 plus, annoyed that my sleeping pattern is once again, screwed.

Had a slight chat with VampTreSS, before I finally burrowed into the depths of the duvet slightly past 6 in the morning.

Hello Monday.

***

What a cosy day to stay-in today. To perhaps finish my books, and a couple of posts which I had put off for the longest time.

With my body finding it a tad easier to cope this week, perhaps I can get more productive.

I was woken up by my property agent, Eric, who is also my mahjong gamer, who wanted to check with me my address.

When he called the 2nd time to confirm the block number, he suddenly mentioned how it was reported that someone had plastic surgery and the surgery failed.

He had remembered how I lamented I would love to go modify my looks the previous time when he had won all my surgery fees over the mahjong table(just tens of bucks, but still!).

Then he was trying to encourage me not to go for it over the phone, when I was in a slight delirious state, which I thought it was quite hilarious that he had called back just to tell me to drop the idea of plastic surgery.

***

A week ago. Monday. 14th.

Spoke to SBB on the phone that noon, and he had taken some time to nap for a couple of hours, which turned out to be double the time intended.

I was ready to head out to hang out with some *ahem* brilliantly cool and great company(just in case they are lurking somewhere, reading), when I gave him a call to inform my whereabouts then did I realise that he was still happily napping away.

At least the train ride was easier to cope with, with the phone call, since I have to try to get used to public transport again.

The supposed meeting time was 8.15pm, according to Nick, who offered to pick me up from Tanjong Pagar MRT station, to meet the others at Spize Cafe along River Valley Road.

I was, -proud- on time.

I sashayed from one end of the station to another, looking for any familiar faces, but found none.

I was bored. I was hungry. And yes, I succumbed to food, prompted merciless tauntings from SBB.

It WILL BE Nick’s fault if I were to gain another pound.

By the time he reached, it was 8.40pm.

Gr… and he had the cheeks to tell me that he had assumed that no girls would ever be on time, going by VampTreSS’ spectacular records in the past.

Um… Fine.

I ended the call with SBB, and hopped on to the scrambler a tad clumsily.

It had been a long while since someone pillioned me on a scrambler, and did I mention that I tend to get shy when someone pillions me?

I HAVE NO IDEA WHY.

Oh well.

When we got there, Kelvin was already there, and Nick had to make another trip to pick VampTreSS up.

I joined Kelvin at the table, until Vamp and Nick joined us.

It was filled with silly things such as looking at each other’s handwriting. In Chinese and English, and I shall not mention how atrociously messy and dishevelled my handwriting is.

Apparently, they believe in how handwriting would reveal the personalities of people, and Nick then kept the pieces of paper we scribbled on for future references.

Tsk tsk. Imagine if I were to become famous one day, that bloody piece of paper with my immaculate handwriting would probably fetch millions.

It was as if I had given him a cashable blank cheque when I allowed him to keep my handwriting, ya know? I know, I am a darn generous friend.

Roy then came down to join us, and we we then happily playing with his Nokia N70, which I pretty much adore.

He then took shots of everybody, and he took a potentially scandalous shot of me, probably because it would fetch millions too, if I were to become famous.

Brian joined the group around half past midnight.

I think the guys were trying to train me to be a porn queen or something, when Kelvin put his mobile right before me, and prompted me to say……

‘Yamatei! Itai! Yamatei!’

*Cough*

… which I gamely spewed forth.

Imagine my horror, when Nick took the picture and piece it together with the voice recording, so that when the picture file is opened, the voice recording would play ceaselessly in the background.

I hate to think what they actually do with the picture and voice recording in the privacy of their own.

*Shudders*

I have no idea why I look so poutishly bewildered(ya, ya, I know there are some other more suggestive intepretations for the look) when Roy snapped this suddenly.

And oddly, it does go well with the voice recording, which I have problems uploading to my site.

Porn star in training. *cough*

The highlight of the night was when the group made a music video, that was so disgusting awesome that I think everyone should have a look at it.

I shall upload it once Nick loads it up.

A snippet of it can be seen in the below picture, of Roy… doing whatnots. *shudders*

And yes, that’s the nicotine gum FF had generous gave me just in case I get highly restless.

Slightly later, Kelvin and Nick retired for the night, and Max came down to join the group.

It was then, I grew increasingly bored, and exploited Roy’s camera phone for my own pleasure.

Not before Vamp snapped a picture of me looking dejected(she specifically asked for a dejected look, I think she doesn’t want me to be happy).

My turn.

This, reminds me of a picture I had taken some time back.

Only good shot I could get of Max, looking pensive.

VampTreSS thought the above picture is interesting.

This, is my favourite picture of the night.

My intepretation of myself, perhaps.

Whee!

I would love to have a N70 too.

Vamp then used it to take several shots of me.

With an array of interesting expressions.

(Yes, my fingers were wrapped around a ciggie, and I cut it out to fulfil my *cough* social responsibilities)

What’s with that… bitchy smirk?

I swear I wasn’t staring at his…

Really!

I won’t tell you how tiny it is even if I did.

Well, I think it is kinda obvious that his arm is indeed tinier than mine.

***

It was as we were sitting there earlier in the evening when I decided I shall not leech off their fag supply.

I bought my first pack of fags, the last I did, last year end-July.

End July.

Hmmm.

What a difference a year makes, eh?

Maybe end-July is a period of vice.

Muahahaha.

Anyway. I stopped. My first and only fag-experience, cos it made me sick after I chain-smoked due to a heavy depression back then.

So, after going into the 7-Eleven for a pack of Dunhill Lights, I sat back at the table, offering ciggies to everyone, before lighting one for myself.

Somehow, throughout that Monday night, I sat there, as others corrected how I hold my fag, and how to light one. Or the basic ettiquette when someone lights one for you.

Bleah. So troublesome. One more thing to put me off the fags.

At the end of the night, I counted the number of butts at the side of my chair, and realised I had devoured more than 10 of such, without feeling sickly.

Yah, right.

The group finally dispersed around 3 plus, and I bade them goodbye. Brian and Max adjourned elsewhere, whereas Roy and Vamp headed home.

When I got onto the cab, I started to grow increasingly uncomfortable, and that dreaded cab ride I had last year, came into mind.

It wasn’t as bad, actually, but I felt the pukish feelings nonetheless.

It got worse when I got home, and realised Creamy had peed around the house.

As I bent forth to clean up the mess, hardly bear to blame the little cutie with the soulful pair of eyes, I stood up feeling my world spinning.

Whee. High.

As I struggled to get through with the showers and such, I brushed my teeth and ended up puking.

Actually fagging is not too bad an idea for dieting. It makes you puke.

But sadly, thereafter, I couldn’t stand the smell of smoke, and anything that smell remotely like a cigarette put me off.

Not bad.

Since then, I have not have a craving for cigarettes, anymore.

I quit as soon as I picked up.

Well done.

***

SBB called and was on the phone for an hour plus till the first glimpse of morning rays greeted us.

He gloated over my misery from the nicotine overdose, and lectured me slightly. I thought he was in glee over how fagging had screwed my body system up badly, and I was put off not to touch another one for a while.

***

I woke up late on Tuesday, and headed to Tanjong Pagar, where I thought I was needed for the telemarketing stuff.

As I reached there, I waited for 20 minutes, and there wasn’t anyone in sight.

I thought I had made a mistake, which I always do, and decided that perhaps I have got it wrong.

Feeling a tad too sheepish and embarrassed to call up anyone(tsk tsk, I didn’t want to further reinstate the fact that I am a forgetful bimbo, alright?), I actually left the building and decided to head home.

Somewhere safe, and cosy.

Quite silly thing to do, I know. But I was just too lazy to be hanging out. Was feeling slightly lethargic actually, and the restlessness set in.

I was also worried about the snowball of cuteness being along at home, and rushed home to accompany it.

Apparently they decided to start the session late that evening, and so coincidentally all the others were late.

Er.. okay.

***

The naughty one peed in my room on its own mattress.

She sheepishly looked up at me and knew she had done something wrong, running away from me.

And in her excitement when I got home, she clumsily sat on a puddle of her own pee, and I had to shower her again.

So… cute.

***

Spent the rest of the night watching National Geographic, Discovery Channel, with it lying next to me.

Catching the documentary on 911 incident actually shocked me the way I had not expected it would still do after all these while.

I actually found myself tearing.

It was even more chilling and scary than watching a horror movie.

Cos I realised, what was more horrifying and scary than supernatural evil forces, is the evilness of the human minds.

It might even be true that I am fearful of people more than ghosts.

***

Just as I was feeling sweaty palms and slightly afraid, I almost squealed when the house phone shrilled, taken me by surprise.

SBB.

Great timing eh?

***

On Wednesday the 16th, I decided to meet up with my plastic surgeon and discussed the extensive overhaul to be done.

Joke, okay, joke.

Speaking of plastic surgeons, I would just go into one of my dreamy states and swoon over how cute some of them are.

And yes, to the extent that some of my friends are asking me if I would want plastic surgery or bed a plastic surgeon for a boyfriend.

*Cough*

The latter. Then maybe I can have the former at a discounted rate?

Muahahahaha.

***

I reached some hospital at half past 12, where I was supposed to meet up with VampTreSS, who as usual, would take a little wee bit of time to reach.

She was supposed to accompany me for my consultation, ya know?

Don’t believe?

Eventually, I was told decided that I needed:

Rhinoplasty. If you have seen how flat my nose is, you would understand the desperate need for it.

Make my eyes bigger, like those comic-characters’ doe-eyed look.

Collagen injection into my upper lips for the sex-siren’s look.

Facial reconstruction to make my face shape smaller.

Cheeks.

Laser treatment for fairer skin, better complexion.

Jaw.

Liposuction is a must. Bodysculpting. From the arms, calves, thighs, tummy. Or perhaps those injections to disperse the fats would do.

Break my legs and make them longer.

A BOOB JOB IS A MUST HAVE.

Laser away the unsightly hair, too. Heh.

Nah, that’s no true actually. The part that I was there for consultation, that is.

But it’s true that I needed the above. And I wonder how much a bankrupt would it make me. Give me a while, as I plot to hook a millionaire sugar daddy work out my finances.

I am tired of looking the way I do. And I do want to be pretty, and I think everyone is pretty cool with plastic surgery these days, why not?

I mean, the thing is, despite there will be people putting you down on how your looks are fake, but a visually pleasing picture will still be welcomed and adored everywhere, fake or not, right?

That aside. The actual fact why we were there was because…

Brian was scheduled to have a surgery to remove some metal pieces from his ankle, which were inserted after he broke it in an offroad accident some time back.

Since Vamp would be visiting him, I decided to meet up with Zerro for lunch and meet up with Vamp thereafter.

It was a hot afternoon, and Zerro suggested the Muslim food place within the hospital.

Scrubs make men sexy.

*Slurp*

And I reckon it was a sign when I saw him carrying the above book in his hand, and bugged him to lend it to me.

I spent the rest of the afternoon flipping it through, and realised how easy it was to catch up with the medical jargons.

It either means that I am made out to be a surgeon, to be dating one, or that I should opt for plastic surgery.

Muahahahaha.

VampTreSS reached at a quarter past 1, and we met up. I introduced the 2, and Zerro then proceeded to attend to his chores.

I accompanied her to have lunch(where I bumped into Shisheng’s girlfriend. I bumped into her at Borders on Saturday when I was out with FF last last week too), and we walked round the hospital, finding a place where it is air-conditioned and cosy to be lazing before Brian was out of the operating theatre.

We ended up at…

I told Vamp that we should be wearing big shades and pretend to be hiding our faces when we sashayed out of the ward later.

I even had the kooky idea of stuffing my boobs with tissues so they would look obscenely huge as I strutted out of the exit of the ward.

We were there, cos we snuck into the doctors’ resting room to.. *gasp* use the computer.

I shall not mention how a couple of them stumbled in with the 2 of us in the room, and fled for their lives.

I even had a whose-eyes-are-bigger competition when one of the doctors came in in shock.

I egged him to come on in, and put on my most saccharin voice, eye lashes fluttering as I assured him, ‘Don’t worry, please come in, I promise we won’t do anything to you.’

He fled.

Not surprising, eh.

Damn, I should just corner him to one corner and ask if he is a plastic surgeon, and he would be my new found best friend if he is.

Darn.

Zerro, introduce leh.

Oh, did I mention Zerro promised that he would give me a discount if I ever look him up to do my plastic surgery?

But the thought that he would be the first to look at my newly-enhanced bust gives me the chills.

***

We earlier enquired over the counter where he would be rested post surgery, and was told he would be at Ward 75 Room 24 Bed 7 or something.

And we saw a rather alert looking one lying on the bed, with left leg bandaged, and a pair of glasses sitting on his perky bridge.

I nearly chuckled at the sight of the dowdy look of the gayish metrosexual of the group.

He looked relatively well and his mum was there with him.

Tsk. Such a brat. Mummy’s boy eh?

We then got him a 2 wheeled ride so we could smuggle him to the ground floor for a breath of, er, fresh air.

Apparently, he was craving for a fag.

The usually-smug one was a picture of mellowness, with his tiny whimpers of how groggy it was after we had meddled him round to sit him on the wheelchair.

Ugly toes.

Wheelchair. How oddly familiar.

The vain one is too conscious to be pictured as a wimp pale patient.

I had took over the wheeling of the wheelchair as the 2 of them chat since I was once quite acquainted with the wheelchair for a good couple of months.

But my superb maneuvering skills made the nauseous one even more ill than he already was.

Woops.

***

We had wanted to grab a coffee but then Brian’s mum call to say that the nurse was going to attend to him and possibly do the necessary checkups before they release him from the hospital.

We transported him back to the ward immediately and met up with Zerro thereafter for dinner.

And I fulfilled my fantasy ambition of becoming a doctor.

I really did want to study medicine, alright?

Though I know I most probably would be kicked out of medicine school if I constantly act-cute in class.

Dinner was at Delifrance, where we smuggled some heavenly durian puffs from Prima Deli into it to go with our drinks and food.

The skies then started roaring and I decided that Mr Zerro is a jinx. The previous time we had dinner, it was storming hell out there as well.

I got a little unsettled by the constant flashings from the skies, and if I could have my way, I would probably shrimp up and hug my knees, whining of my fear.

I could almost feel my heart racing, palms sweaty, just simply cos we were sitting so near to the open space.

Jitters, jitters.

Oh, did I forget to mention that we saw a darn gorgeous Caucasian doctor, a picture of suaveness as he graced the ward.

VampTreSS didn’t manage to catch a glimpse of him, until he strutted out of the hospital, into the evening sun when she was taking a smoke break.

*Gasp*

And I missed that picture of sheer perfection.

Darn.

And I heard the orthopaedic ward had a new addition, which caused the staff to flip off their seats when they saw the tall being slow-motioned(I think they would have mentally special-effected the picture) into the building.

And! The best part? He just came back from the UK, and possibly equipped with an English accent.

So, so, so, yummy.

That was perhaps the reason why I didn’t mind visiting Brian with Vamp. Muahahahaha.

He was in the orthopaedic ward, where I was constantly darting my head left and right, looking out for the legendary Dr X(I have no idea what his name is!).

Darn. No such luck.

*Sulks*

Vamp commented she had never seen someone as excited to be in the hospital like I do.

Post dinner, we used the computer for a while, before we went back to Brian’s ward, where he was already changed, waiting to be discharged.

We smuggled some pungent durian puffs and durian eclair up to his ward, and audaciously munched up everything in the ward.

It was yummy.

We then proceeded down to the taxi stand, where Brian and Vamp had their fags, and I surprised myself that I do not have any cravings for it.

It was then, the headache started brewing and I felt a tad sickly.

Brian left with his mum and Vamp dropped me off at the MRT station, where I took a train ride(!) home in the offwork crowd, in the drizzle.

***

I was watching CSI: Miami, struggling to stay awake with the headache when Meiling called that she would be reaching soon. I packed up Creamy’s stuff and played a bit with her, before pouting a little at the thought that the 6 days would be up soon.

Meiling stayed for an hour or so, and very nicely gave me free buffet lunch vouchers at Marriott.

Yay.

I think it was part of her evil ploy to get me fat, really.

She then carried the lively Creamy home, ending the weary night for me.

The headache sucked.

***

Tsk tsk.