My life has been so monotonous that there is hardly anything worth writing about.

Bland! Bland! Bland!

No exciting sex life, no wide arrays of men drop dead at my feet, worshipping the ground I walk on, no intellectual bullshit from me, no inspirations, no exciting programs, no dates, no nothing!

Woe is me!

See! I even reached home by 12.30am on a Saturday night, after hopping on the last train, even though I had only headed out of home at 8pm!

Alright.

I shall spend my Saturday night recapping the past 3 days, and leave the 1st 3 days of the week’s recap till tomorrow(or else I have nothing else to do tomorrow, no?! It’s Sunday and I would be home-bound again. Alright, fine, it is just that if I recap 6 days in one go, it would probably be yawn-inducingly long).

On a more serious tone, perhaps I am contended with the quiet nights in, rather than a loud and boisterous affair out in town, which most probably will sap up my financial reserves faster than I can say ‘Dad, it’s the time of the month for my allowance yuh?‘.

Woops. I sound like a mega brat there, no less.

***

Thursday - 17th November.

I was feeling too sickly to be venturing anywhere on Thursday.

A morning call from SBB came in at around 12.30pm on my handphone, and I realised I had kicked my house phone off the hook after an 11-hour sleep.

Spoke to the man for about an hour and half before he headed off to his nap.

The headache from the night before, was stil there, double in its effect.

I don’t believe in depending on painkillers for aches, but yet the stinging pain on the right side of my skull was getting on my nerves.

I reached out for a dose of it, hoping it will curb the pain.

Feeling nauseous, I thought a walk out to get me some food would do me some good.

And that, I did.

The roads were damp from the showers earlier that morning, and my light-headedness caused me to slip a little.

Slipping, is different from tripping, and it wasn’t my clumsiness, alright?

I regained my composure, still feeling too groggy.

Not knowing why my body was reacting so violently to whatsoever reasons, I was hoping a dose of lunch would make it go away.

Wrong move.

I felt increasingly uncomfortable as I finished my noodles, and I started breaking out in cold sweats, my body shaking involuntarily.

I almost felt too weak to stand up to cross the street to walk home.

I took gulps from my cup of iced tea, regulated my breathing a little to control the urge to puke, and made a quick dash home, without even doing any grocery shopping as intended.

Tried to nap, but the headache was too much a nuisance to ignore.

But the painkiller was slowly taking effect, and I could feel the tension lifted off the back of my head.

I did a little blogging but was feeling too groggy to continue. As the effect wore off, I could feel the stingy pain creeping back from the back of my head, slowly up to the peak of my skull.

Wenmei messaged me to join her and the girlies for dinner, and I declined cos I seriously didn’t think I could make it out on a night like this.

Couple of hours later, Finicky Feline called me up to ask me if I would love to join Tetanus and Reminisce for drinks.

I declined, citing that my headache is too much a bitch for me to join. She had said that she would only join them if I went along, and we wouldn’t stay out late for the night cos she had work the next day.

Thinking that it had been a long while since we caught up with Tetanus, and that he might have some plans to uproot overseas, I thought I wouldn’t mind joining them for a while.

Bad move.

I thought I couldn’t feel my feet when I crossed the overhead bridge to the MRT station.

I am so proud of myself. I took public transport, ya know?

And, the most impressive thing of all?

I took 5 minutes to throw on a pair of jeans, a tee, grabbed a bag, threw in my wallet and some cash, and off the door I went.

***

Something is terribly wrong with me. I am in one of my I-can’t-be-bothered-with-how-I-look phase cos I am feeling so terrible about myself.

I went out on Monday in slippers, with my wallet, key and handphone in the grasp of my hand, without a bag(I was wearing a dress somemore! Just because I am too lazy to theme anything together).

I went out on Tuesday in track pants, slippers, glasses. Makeupless.

I went out on Thursday bespectacled, hair dishevelled, makeupless, too.

Friday. Shorts. Slippers. Tee. Glasses.

Saturday. See Thursday’s description. In track shoes. Book in hand.

I didn’t feel like venturing to anywhere in town.

Cos I am in one of those I-hate-the-way-I-look-and-I-don’t-belong-to-the-fanciful-town moods.

Am disgusted with what I saw in the mirror, and seriously, if I have the money, I would go for plastic surgery just to look pretty.

I already came up with a list of thing I would love to do to myself.

Muahahaha. Check out the next post for details.

***

FF picked me up in a cab at Commonwealth station, and we headed to Emerald Hill together to meet the rest at Que Pasa.

Tetanus, Reminisce and Littlemissdrinkalot were already there.

I alighted from the cab, feeling as if I was out of this world.

***

We gasped in flabbergastion shock horror awe admiration when we saw how suave Reminisce was, after ditching his geeky hairstyle for an act-cool a stylish crop, bringing out the wannabe youth in him.

The King of Fairies gave him a stamp of approval.

Now, now. The King of Fairies had demanded a price, to teach Reminisce to sashay strut sway waltz swagger the way he does, with the shoulder movements thrown in.

Look no further my young padawan, I could do a good mimick of it(someone better give me a stamp of approval for it), and I would teach you for free.

In exchange, may I have a boob-job for free?

***

I popped a pill with some fabulous white wine(FF! What’s the name of the wine again?), with the go-ahead given by the doctor.

We ordered some yummy chicken wings and pizza to go along with the wine and painkiller. Oh, orange juice, too.

Still, the headache wouldn’t go away.

For most of the evening, I was either in a kooky daze, restless, or feeling edgy, battling the headache with my will.

Suddenly, we thought of the possibility of nicotine withdrawal symptoms(now, that’s another story altogether which I shall let rip in the next recap), and FF quickly whipped out her nicotine gum, and offered one to me.

I am not sure if it was the white wine, or the gum, and I felt slightly high thereafter.

I started launching into my excessive chatty mode, and giggled like a silly mule, without a trace of the headache earlier on.

I went to the ladies and realised my cheeks and forehead was flushed.

And I only had 2 sips of the yummy white wine!

Yes, if you still haven’t read about it, I am one of the most fabulous drinkers you would ever come across.

A couple of sips would be enough to knock me out, turn me scarlet, and morph me into a monster.

Not a very pretty sight, I reckon.

I now worship the nicotine gum cos my headache went away swiftly thereafter(and it is not even psychological!).

The very kind FF passed me a couple just in case my body crave for some dose of nicotine.

I don’t believe I would be hooked to nicotine with such ease, and that it would have such effects on my body that I could not control it.

The thing is, I don’t even crave for fags nor feel like taking a drag. The thought of it actually makes me feel nauseous.

And I would really hate to admit that it was the lack of nicotine that made my body reacted the way it did.

The guys concluded that we were deprived, and getting too hormonal as we had misheard and twisted what they had spoken for the night into things that filled with nothing but sexual innuedoes.

And most of such moments were unintentionally.

It is amazing how FF and I both heard ‘genital herpes‘ when Reminisce had said something like ‘Jennifer Lopez’.

When Tetanus had said something about being salaried, we heard celibacy.

Tsk tsk.

We adjourned to Acid Bar thereafter.

It was my 2nd trip there, and it brought back memories of me there with Goldwin some time last year.

FF and I left the group, which by then, had 2 more additions of Derrick and Derrick, for a brief while, to head to 7-eleven for a shot of chocolate to alleviate the stiff mood for the evening.

I started lamenting to her how I detested the reflection when we strolled past a mirror, and how I wish I could save up for plastic surgery in the future.

I listed the things I wanted to do, and I am amazed what an extensive list it is. Muahahahaha.

It was slightly past midnight when Reminisce, the gentleman, who not only bought the round for us at Que Pasa, but also drove us home.

We went around town, to North-East, to West, and realised how crap he is when it comes to reading road signs.

***

SBB called slightly after 2am, after I had showered and chilling to the night. It was a short call before he turned in.

He then made me somewhat promise him that I would try to retire by 3am since I wasn’t feeling too well.

And by 3am, lights were off, and I was tucked safely beneath the duvet, dozing off without a trace of my headache, but with plenty of fatigue and that warm and fuzzy feeling the embraced me through the night.

Too much weird dreams, though.

***

It was 12 plus on Friday, and I woke up once again feeling extremely queasy.

I tossed and turned in bed for 20 minutes, drifting in and out of consciousness, when the single beep from my handphone alerted me again.

Then did I realise, for the 2nd night, I had kicked my house phone off the hook.

It was then a 2-hour phone call with SBB, with us meddling with the webcam, and me looking horrifying ghastly pale on the webcam.

My eyes were barely pried open, when I switched on the webcam deliriously, much to his demand.

For the first time, I saw him on webcam and I couldn’t stop giggling at the silliness of his facial expressions.

He didn’t even know how to enlarge the windows, complaining that his webcam screen was too small to see anything.

It was funny seeing him wedging his phone between his shoulder and ear, talking, and hearing his voice at the same time. Quite interesting actually.

And his sudden nearing to the webcam to scrunch his lips, pucker it up to gesture a muack caused me to break into chuckles.

It was pretty cool to be able to thrown him a cold stare whenever he made the lamest comments possible, or throw a senseless jibe at me. Hmphf.

I even jokingly asked him to strip, which of course, the coward didn’t dare to bulge.

Wimp!

I then walked out for my lunch again, still suppressing the urge to puke.

I even bought myself some nice peanut waffle and lotus seed paste pastry for desserts.

I am eating a tad too much.

***

MSN chat with Grace and Mandrake in the afternoon, post lunch.

Grace insisted on looking at my vibrator and dildo.

I switched on the webcam and let her had a glimpse of the embarrassing gadgets to satisfy her lust curiosity in the midst of the thunderstorm that came suddenly.

Muahahaha. I must be mad.

***

I got wind of the storm and sent a message to the one who was out, and he called back to say that he was safely indoors.

***

Hardly any plans to head out, and was already prepared for a quiet night in, perhaps to blog my night away, until Alvin called to ask if I would like to play mahjong.

I think I am becoming like a gambler.

Or perhaps, too lazy a bum to head out to town, or to even dress up on a weekend night to head anywhere.

I was feeling quite alright until I took the long walk to his estate from my place, and then started to feel restless, and broke out in cold sweats again.

My head felt light, and my hands started trembling. My limbs chilled and freezing. My concentration falling apart.

Total discomfort, I tell you.

Mum called in the midst of the game, calling me names. She started to launch into this mode when I nicely told her that I was playing mahjong, and asked in a disgusted tone, ‘When have you become such an obsessive gambler?’

How often do you play?

You always play is it?

You guys play money?

You think you very rich, is it?

Where you playing?

Who are those people you are playing with?

Where did you learn all these bad things from?

And for Christ’s sake, that was the 1st time ever I had told her I was playing a game over at a friend’s place.

She spoke as if I had contacted cancer or some sort, as if I was incorrigible and such as she demanded more details.

I ran out of patience as my usual defensive self snapped into action and the initially mellowed voice took a turn.

I think a game of mahjong is just like a game of scrabble, and is quite intellectually stimulating, actually. Especially if there is great company, I don’t see any harm.

I mean, if you are heading out on a weekend, most probably you would spend on food and drinks and possibly pricey cab fares, and playing a game or two isn’t that bad in my opinion, even if you are not on the winning end, no?

***

Woops, it was another night of loss for me. *Sheepish*

And I grew real restless in the midst of it, and regretted I didn’t bring the nicotine gum with me.

I took a couple of drags from Nise’s fag just to get my concentrtion together though and I seriously don’t like the taste of it.

It was 4am when I finally reached home, with the very kind Edmund and wife giving me a lift back, since all of us live in the same area.

***

I took a quick shower and slumped into my bed, not knowing what to do.

Perhaps I just wanna relax and chill, not doing anything, and just let my thoughts run amok.

Just then, an unexpected phone call from SBB startled me, and I couldn’t quite explain why I was still up in the middle of the night, not doing anything.

Besides snacking on some fattening crackers.

How odd, the timing.

A short call later, I finally drifted off to a deep slumber.

***

I struggled to wake up at 1 plus in the noon, feeling groggy but definitely miles better than the few days before.

I blogged.

And blogged.

And blogged.

I started to get the hang of writing, and wrote quite a bit.

I even drafted the next post already.

I wrote 3 other posts elsewhere.

So productive. I wonder if I should end this here, since it doesn’t seem like much people are reading me here anyway.

But yet, the privacy is being compromised, as those who had known of this site might end up knowing what are in here eventually.

Oh well.

***

FF and I had plans to do something drastically different for this weekend.

Zoo. Museum. Play. Musical. Blading. Sky dive or something.

Okay, sky dive was my idea, but not her cup of tea.

We finally settled for this jazzfest thingy but as the time drew near, we were too lazy to be heading out anywhere.

I think we are just feeling unmotivated and the zest is running low on fuel.

Everything was almost… like a.. standstill.

I didn’t feel like heading anywhere. I didn’t feel like being seen anywhere.

Eventually, even plans to have dinner at 7 was delayed cos of our reluctance to head out early to 8.

Spoke to SBB on the phone for an hour, with him demanding me to be on webcam again. I somehow feel as if I am fulfilling some kind of fetish of his or something.

Pervert.

He sounded preoccupied, and I kindly asked if he would like me to get off the phone just in case I am a distraction for being such a nuisance.

In his haughty, sardonic tone, he mused ‘What do you mean? You have always been a nuisance anyway!’

Meow! Ouch. Catty.

Grr. Fine.

Hmphf.

Bye, I said, in mock anger.

And he had the audacity to tell me not to feel personal about it.

But, hello? It was a personal comment, no? I argued in my cutesy, act-pitiful voice.

He laughed at my petty reactions as I refused to speak even as he coaxed.

He contemptuously replied, ‘Aw, sorry, it wasn’t personal‘ before breaking into fits of giggle.

I swear I could have wrung his neck if he was right before me there and then.

Maybe something else, too. *Cough*

Okay, I will make another personal comment to compensate for that, how about that?

I was wondering what could he possibly come up with, that is substantial to appease me.

I like shagging you, sweetie.

*Cough*

Oh shuddap, I snapped.

Where the hell did that come from?

*Cringe*

You wait long long.

Muahahaha.

***

Then I started having cold feet about heading out of the house, and after a while, I decided I feel hungry enough to want to have a nice dinner.

Thus, time was finalised at 8.45pm for Pepper Lunch in Orchard.

I was looking so dowdy that I shouldn’t be allowed on the streets. I was self-conscious yet didn’t want to make an effort to dress up.

I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with myself. Muahahaha.

I started reading the book Philip had passed me a long while ago on the train ride to town(yay! Public transport yet again!), and I didn’t realise how good the book is, and I am actually drawn to read on, and leave this entry untouched.

But I curbed the urge and decide to indulge AFTER this post is done.

Hopefully it won’t take up the time for the next entry.

I was walking past McCafe at Isetan Scotts, when I bumped into my secondary school classmate Zhiwen, who was actually having coffee with another schoolmate, who didn’t recognise me since he wasn’t from my class.

‘Ding Minghua?‘ I blurted out, and they seemed surprise by my memory. Together with them, were their respective girlfriends.

We met up for a great dinner, but it seems like our spirits were lacklustre, with not much enthusiasm for the night.

We walked down the glittery stretch of Orchard, down to Orchard Hotel, where we were expected to find Tetanus at Muddy Murphy’s.

He had wanted to watch his friend playing in a band there.

We reached there earlier, and I rewarded myself with 3 cookies from Subway, which I devoured in a matter of seconds.

I feel guilty eating so much in a day.

And I wasn’t quite satisfied despite having dinner and cookies. Gee.

Tetanus was just leaving his home when we reached there.

I had heard how the area is commonly filled with whores and I was curious enough to look around me, wondering who are and who aren’t.

Seriously, I still have no idea how to differentiate a normal shopper from a whore until FF pointed some out to me.

Tetanus joined us shortly after and we realised his friend wasn’t there.

We had thought there was another Muddy Murphy’s at Boat Quay and we had gotten the location wrong.

Then, we took a cab to Boat Quay, where we realised there isn’t any Muddy Murphy’s there.

We settled for Harry’s, where they got a drink, and I stick to iced water instead. Budget constraints and I really shouldn’t be drinking.

As I walked into the bar, the uplifting tunes belted out by the jazz singer made me tap my feet to the beats, feeling an urge to dance.

Suddenly, I wished I was in Europe, and most probably I would just stand up and dance, without a care for whoever present.

It was from the corner of my eyes, I saw another familiar face.

I smiled and mouthed, ‘Eddie?‘.

He looked at me as if I was some weirdo, and knitted his brows as if trying to piece his memories together to place me somewhere.

He didn’t have much time to before I strutted into the far end of the bar, settling at a corner table, immersed in the beautiful music, and brilliant company of FF and Tetanus.

Perhaps, I just feel shitty having met 2 people from my secondary school days, looking my worst.

Anyway, a night spent with FF and Tetanus couldn’t possibly go wrong.

It brought back memories of how slightly more than 4 months ago, the 3 of us had hung out together, complaining of our single status, and how desperate we were to get laid attached.

That night, the outing for 3 had evolved into 5, when Tetanus asked if we mind Wallflower joining us, and FF later asked if we would mind Gavin joining us.

I couldn’t possibly object right? Though I seriously should have cos I was the only one left alone!

The 2 sneaky ones had claimed they were ‘just friends’ with the individuals they had invited to join us.

LOOK WHAT HAPPENED?!

Tsk tsk.

Never believe people when they tell you they are ‘just friends’ with friends of the opposite sexes.

Sure bluff.

Unless it’s me who is telling you.

And now, with their respective partners overseas, the 3 singletons were hanging out, with pieces of their minds elsewhere, in faraway lands.

I took 2 drags. I didn’t like it.

What a ’spontaneous’ weekend.

Not quite the spontaneity we were looking for.

***

We parted a quarter to midnight amidst the buzz of the Saturday night.

I didn’t feel quite belong to the glistering lights from the night.

Not even when the moon is so pretty tonight.

FF and I went against the temptation of cabs, and took the last train home instead.

I was so proud of myself that I didn’t rely on cab rides at all today.

Yay.

What an achievement.

Alright, now if you would excuse me, I would return to my new read, which is surprisingly interesting — Left Behind.

And yeap, it is actually a Christian novel.

But don’t write it off like I did.

It is really engaging, which wasn’t within my expectations, really.

***

Lady, I am sorry you have to go through the same hurt again.

We will be around.

I had put this off for the longest time.

A tribute to the little gem, Rene.

I thought I had a relatively interesting conversation over MSN today, when someone mentioned that I could actually look so sweet apart from my ’sex siren and aloof’ image in the pictures I took with Rene.

I had always wanted to blog about how happy I am to see everything is picking up for Eileen with the birth of Rene, as she moves on to another phase in life.

Gone were the days when we would head down to Mambo nights at Zouk together.

She hasn’t had it easy.

Eileen’s mother, still hasn’t got a clue that her daughter is already married, and had given birth to an adorable baby daughter.

Eileen’s mother is dead against Eileen’s relationship with Dave, cos she always thought her daughter deserves someone better, someone richer, so that she could milk more money from her daughter.

So much so that lots of pressure was put on Eileen to move on, instead of sticking to Dave.

Eileen held on to the relationship, and even married the man she loves, in a hush hush registration.

Things weren’t rosy to begin with, and I had seen how she grit her teeth through bad times and good. She, taught me what it was to forgive.

It was also during my depression, she shared with me how she coped. Perhaps because, she knew how hard it was, and thus, she always stayed around, offering me the support I needed.

Reading back my archive for 2004, most entries have traces of her name, and how she looked after me with that maternal trait in her, during the darkest hours of my life.

It wasn’t easy, but she was around.

I would say Eileen and I are actually very different. We have very different social circle, and our paths in life are destined to be very different with our different expectations, beliefs and temperaments.

I remember the days when Dave would coach me how to air brush the bike models, and how they would patiently welcome me to their homes on Sundays to watch MotoGP together and such.

And it was one Sunday, after my return from the MotoGP January testings, as we were catching up, sharing about the excitement from the trip, where we spoke about heading up to Sepang together this September.

Dave and Eileen had said how this year, they would head up to Sepang no matter what, cos they had missed the one last year.

I remember last year, when they met with an accident as they were heading to my place to get me started on my Tamiya model-making.

So, in jest, I joked, ‘Hahaha, what if you get pregnant now? I doubt you could make it again. But nevermind. Dave, we shall go without her!’

She did a quick calculation and said, ‘If I suey suey(unfortunately) get preggie now, I would be 9 months gone in September, and he doesn’t even have to dream about leaving me alone when I am gonna give birth anytime!‘

‘Then like that, too bad. Remember to point to the baby and acknowledge me when you see me on television!‘

We ended the mindless conversation.

Couple of weeks later, one early morning, I received an SMS from her, telling me how her test kit had tested positive and she would really not make it for the race this year.

Woops. Prediction #1 came true.

I called her to congratulate her, and laughed how our predictions had came true.

To top it off, I expressed my regrets in between sniggers that she wouldn’t be able to make it to the MotoGP again, while I would enjoy my trip without her.

It was one of those days when she came over to visit me, when we joked about the precise predictions we had made.

In my pretend-to-be-sweet, and oh-so-sorry voice, I said sardonically, ‘Don’t forget to tell the baby I am the god-mum when you see me carrying an umbrella on television, alright? I will try to wave.‘

It was just another mindless joke on my part, in an exaggerated cocky manner, even though I would have never believed I would ever be a brolly girl if you had told me then.

I shall not mention how Raf and I managed to get the gig as we sashayed down the paddock a month and half ago, and indeed, I got onto the grid.

And I was too embarrassed to broadcast about it. Thus, I decided to keep mum about it, just so that if anyone were to see me on television, it would be by chance, and not forewarned.

Eileen was the first to call and first to message me in utter flabbergastion when I finally got my phone back at the end of the event.

She was watching MotoGP, and nearly went into a state of hysteria when she noticed Raf on the television, and a glimpse of hope was shed that she would see me, too.

I watched the repeated telecast on some video clip I downloaded from the net, and nearly wanted to jump off the building when I realised that we both had the longest airtime amongst all grid girls(possibly due to the fact that we were both standing at the right position for the camera man to capture, hurhurhur).

So, she saw me. And she told me that she immediately ecstatically told the baby within her that it was me, her god-mum on television.

Woops. Prediction #2 came true.

Early 13th October, it was one of those late nights I frequently indulged in.

I was taking a toilet break, and suddenly had this feeling within me.

It was 5am, not a very sane time to message anybody, I know.

Out of nowhere, I had this incredibly urge to message Dave.

I messaged him that I must be the first person he ought to inform when the baby is due.

He messaged me back early next morning that the baby wasn’t due for another 2 weeks, and Eileen was supposed to go for her last checkup that very morning.

They later told me that they even laughed at how overly-eager I was, and that I was kiasu and kanchiong for getting flustered so soon.

It was in the afternoon, when he suddenly called me to tell me that they decided to admit Eileen to induce birth, cos baby’s heartbeat was a tad erratic.

Woops. Prediction #3 came true.

Then as I spoke to Eileen that afternoon, I joked(yes yes I should joke less often, I know) that it wasn’t too bad that if my god-daughter was borned on the 14th October, cos the guy who first held my hand when I was 14(at a NPCC camp, his name is Jason, and I got back contact with him through friendster!) was born on the same date.

Eileen then reminded me the date was 13th, not 14th.

I told her I was aware, but then I was just joking just in case the baby decided to delay her birth till the next day.

Woo yeah. Guess what? The stubborn little lass didn’t come out till 14th October, 8.06pm.

Woops.

So, now, they had forbade me making any statements about the little girlie.

Hahahaha.

See, how much affinity I have with the little bundle of joy.

And now, I am so glad to see that they have her to hold the entire family together, making them stronger than before.

I can also see the change in Dave, becoming a more patient man, with the added responsibilities in hands.

Seeing the change in them, also make me hope for the day, when her mum would come to an understanding that money shouldn’t be the gauge for the importance of kinship within a family.

And for that, darling, I wish you guys happiness.

Thanks for everything, and so much more.

***

Speaking of bliss, it was good news after good news within the group I used to hang out with. Incidentally, it was the same people who I grew closer post Philip-Ting days.

Ironically, they were the people I never get to know better when we were still a couple.

But, it was during harsh times, do you truly know the depths of big-hearted people around you.

Ben and Cat, were such, too.

Just like Eileen and Dave, they would come over and accompany me for dinner in the past.

And yes, after attending their wedding in September, they are the next couple, expecting a baby, after Eileen and Dave,

Poor Cat had to endure the discomfort of morning sickness and the whatnots caused by the pregnancy.

Hey dear, hopefully the fatigue will go away soon, and that you would be a happy mum.

The changes amongst these beautiful people, touched me in many ways.

Here, are the pictures she had sent me, of her wedding day, on 30th September.

Ting and the bride.

Cat, was always my evil partner when it comes to taking atrociously scandalous-looking shots.

Cat with her 2 emcees for the night. Kenneth, and I.

The 2 of us on stage, a bundle of nerves.

Our table. Seriously, besides Meiling and Joanne, I have no idea who the others are.

Looking freaking fat. Why is everyone hiding behind me?!

Wishing you guys, happiness, always.

Monday, 14th November.

Time, was 9.30am.

Rise and shine. I last recalled dozing off at almost 12 midnight with the MP3 player blasting in the background, waking up briefly at 12.30am, before nodding off again, greeting the time at 1.30am.

Finally, I relented and turned in at 1.30am.

8 hours of fulfilled, hardly disturbed sleep.

After a brief phone call with SBB, I rose from my bed, did some reading.

I brewed a pot of water for the waiting bag of Earl Grey, buttered some cheese spread onto my french roll, and caught up with the morning news.

Soft, low growls were heard, the glow of the day faded slightly, but were hardly threatening.

The beaming rays are now slowly returning.

How.. untypical. How… routine.

As I sat before the monitor sipping my tea, which is gradually chilled by the air-conditoner, I am deriving some warmth from the curled up bundle of fur resting on my lap right now.

I feel oddly normal. So normal that it seems like I have almost nothing to write.

Or perhaps, I had been turning in so early for the past week that I didn’t feel like writing, since I am always the most productive, in the quietness of the dark.

It is in that realm, I live.

***

It was 2 hours on the phone with SBB on a boring Monday afternoon. I am stuck at home, almost bored to tears.

Gee.

***

It was a pretty Sunday noon, when I was all dressed up sweetly, prettily, daintily, demurely and angelically.

In a white dress, no less.

Almost celestial. Classy and poise.

(Yah, right)

It was as if things around me should have been slow-motioned, to match the dreamy, floaty effects.

I had slept at 3am, and woke up at 10 plus in the morning. On a Sunday. I awed myself.

I sashayed out of the lobby and into the scorching sun, towards the back exit of the estate. A daddy of massive size, was just returning from a swimming session with his young, twin sons.

I walked past them, thinking how great a day it was. Chirpy. CHIRPY. CHIRPY!

Suddenly, I recalled I had forgotten my cash.

Grrr…..

Slightly spoiling the picture of daintiness, I dragged my slippers in a hasty manner, scurrying back to my block, all flustered and panting.

Um. No good.

Daddy and twins there. Gee. Do they have to stay in the same block? What a picture of difference.

I smiled enchanting at the pair of twins as they proceeded to the letterbox, before making my escape up to the 3rd floor, grabbed my stuff, and left the apartment dishevelled and sweaty.

When I darted out of the lift door as it arrived at the ground floor again, I nearly knocked into, yes, you guessed it, the twins, who were waiting for a lift.

I smiled sheepishly at the 3 of them, and any idiot would have guessed that I had been a doofus and forgot something as I was rushing out.

Bleah.

So much for poise and class.

I should have strutted out in a slow-motioned mode, looking all celestial and every bit of a goddess.

***

Wednesday. The 9th.

It was the day I woke up with hardly enough sleep. Perhaps 6 hours or something? It was 11 plus in the morning when I woke up.

Met up with SBB somewhere near town at 2pm, since he was already there, and had a rather long lunch together till it was 4.

As SBB finished his ciggie, I curiously asked, with the still burning butt between my fingers, ‘So, how do you flick a finished cigarette?‘

I think he was trying hard not to roll his eyes.

He stretched out his hand, turned over his palm, so that it would be facing skywards.

‘Turn your hand,’ he instructed.

I turned my palm upwards, like he did.

‘Open up your fingers,’ he commanded.

That’s no flicking!

Though slightly puzzled, I still spreaded my 5 fingers, and whatever left of the combusting cigarette fell off my hand.

DUH.

That’s so NOT flicking.

I shall not mention my doofus moment when I was standing at the carpark, and whilst standing still on the spot, I lost my footing and tripped.

On a flat spot!!! Not moving!!! Standing still!!!

The very kind soul gave me a lift to Orchard, where we stopped by to fill some petrol(that man had forbade me to say anything about ‘run out of petrol‘ or the likes of ‘stranded on the expressway‘, cos he knew how jinx my words could be), where I was scheduled to meet up with the 3 gorgeous ones.

Did I mention how ugly the Christmas decorations are this year? We still thought it was for the Chinese New Year with all the irritatingly reddish ornaments that are quite distasteful.

SBB and I debated what was the ‘thingy’ right on top of the arch that greets the traffic heading into Orchard’s main stretch.

I didn’t figure out what the ugly thingy was, until later that night, then did I realise, it was a red ribbon what was so distorted that it doesn’t look like a pretty ribbon at all!

Gee.

I had wanted to shop for something for baby Rene, but nothing seems quaint nor individualistic enough for me to adore.

SBBF(his friend) was already at Coffee Bean at Wheelock Place, and we joined him for coffee.

The cringe moment came when a friend they were scheduled to meet, called.

SBBF: I am here already, with SBB, and his -gulp- girlfriend.

My face instinctively contorted to a weird array of expressions, and I was just glad I didn’t choke on my tangy Sunrise.

SBB immediately threw a perturbed/puzzled look, as if saying, ‘Eeeww‘.

Muahahahaha. Classic.

Mockingly funny, in my opinion.

I swear I was holding back not to burst out laughing when that friend joined us later, and whilst chatting to SBB, pointed to me and said something, ‘…. your girlfriend…. blarblarblar…‘

*Cringe*

I shall not mention my moment of doofusism when I mindlessly played with the lighter, and as I felt the heat burning, I looked frantically helpless cos I didn’t know how to let it go, until of cos, SBB rolled his eyes and snatched the flaming lighter away from me.

The group dispersed slightly before 6, as the post-work Orchard increased its buzz.

I then bade the very tired SBB goodbye with a nice cuddle, and made a last minute dash into Borders to get some cards for the girlies.

It was then when Chrissy called to inform me of her arrival.

I browsed at the watch, and wondered what time would Vamp reach.

FF had told me she would reach slightly after 7, and as she was caught up with some work, we postponed the time to 7.30pm instead.

Vamp had asked me what time I would be meeting FF earlier on, and despite of the meeting time planned, I decided to tell her that we were meeting at 6pm. Sneaky, sneaky me.

Chrissy had told me she called Vamp at 5.30pm, and Vamp had said she was changing.

It was 6.30pm when I called Vamp, and her respond?

‘Changing, changing! I give you guys a call when I leaving.‘

*Sniggers*

By the time she reached, it was almost 7.15pm, 15 minutes before FF reached.

Chrissy and I had met up first, chilled at McCafe, and I was still at a loss what to get for Baby Rene.

Finally, hunger prevailed, and 4 of us went for dinner at Cream Bistro, where I was lost in my thoughts for good half of the evening, listening to stories that sounded intimately familiar, yet hauntingly distant.

I was… tired.

A forced smile at times, a stroke of another girlie’s hair at times, staring into the far distance, mesmerised by the hypnotic lights of passing vehicles.

I didn’t eat much for dinner.

Ah well. Good. I should be on a diet anyway.

FF and I finally got too tired, and decided to head home.

It was no surprise that I crashed at 12 midnight, and slept for the most fulfilling 12 hours I had, in a long, long while.

Emotional and physical fatigue is a good way to waste your body away.

***

Finally, a well-deserved break for the body, when I holed up at home on a Thursday, till it was evening time when Meiling came over with Creamy in tow.

The snow-furred Maltese was going to bunk over at mine for a week, cos her owner would be away for a short holiday.

The night was spent settling her in, and setting up her playpen so she would know where to pee and poo.

By the time Meiling left, it was pretty late, and since I wasn’t quite used to early nights, my body was slowly getting tired, and yes, it was yet again, an early night.

I bet I slept before 2, with the little darling sleeping right next to my bed.

In the middle of the night, when I was awoke briefly, I saw a white head right by the side of my bed, and got an immense fright.

Eventually, I realised, it was the little bitch(yes, she is a girlie) propping herself up at the side of the bed, looking at my sleeping self. I had forgotten that she was in my room.

The only down side?

I broke out in rashes, patches of redness and splotches of painful spots spreaded across my thigh, hands, body and face.

Ugly, ugly.

***

‘She’s so bimbotic! She looks blur, doesn’t she? And she likes to give those innocent, blinking looks so you wouldn’t have the heart to scold her. And my friend told me she is super teyh, and she would whine and want a lot of affection and cuddles. And she is afraid of sudden loud noises like thunder. And you must coax her to eat.‘

SBB/other random people I had described the above to: Are you talking about Creamy or yourself?

Grr… duh!

***

After 8 hours of sleep, I greeted Friday before noon! Whee, how nice(ahem, an achievement, alright?).

I realised that I really dislike day time with a passion. I just love the night time so much more.

I spent the day clearing up the place, playing with Creamy, and trying to feed it.

Did some grocery shopping, and took a walk, too.

Since it had not really settled down, I decided to drop any plans to head out, and stay in instead.

It was late evening when there were plans of mahjong at my place.

Great! Creamy would have some company and I wouldn’t have to head out.

And the 2 rounds ended up exhausting us till 5am in the morning(which is pretty rare cos we would seldom end post midnight), and depleting my bank account further by 20 bucks.

After a shower, and slight clearing up of the place, it was 6am when I finally hit the sack.

Friday. How short and sweet.

Yet, a year ago, on the 11th November late night, it was definitely not short nor sweet.

I thrusted my head deep into the pillow, waving away the lingering memories, that stubbornly refused to go.

***

Hey Guangyang,

A year since you went away.

Late on 11th’s night. Early 12th.

Too much thoughts jumbled up.

Many times as I plunged into my darkest moments, I still wish you are around.

I remember the most excruciating night of my life, where I could not speak, nor could I string a coherent sentence as I sobbed down the phone.

That night.

11th’s night. Early 12th, of April. 2004.

You listened, you soothed. Without a need for me to say anything.

You opened up my eyes. To see a far bigger world I had ever thought it would be.

The big heart to accept people the way they are. No discrimination, no judgments passed.

And, to be there for any friends, in times of adversity.

To have an honest friendship, when things didn’t sound too pleasant to the ears were accepted, not judged.

But because they were the barest, and the most brutal sense of honesty anyone could offer, they were the most precious memories of all.

To speak our minds, and offer a different perspective of things. I had never met anyone who I thought could be so honest with me. Sincerely so.

Our friendship was a short one. But it paved the mould for the kind of friendships I know I would want in the future.

Because of you, I met a lot of people, of extremes, who showed me the world you once let me had a glimpse of.

The fanciful arrays of people you met, and life experiences you been through.
Thank you, Yang.

You are still, sorely missed.

In the days when I needed to talk to someone, to rant, to vent, to speak of the evilness, the disappointments, I always hope you would dissect the world for me, simply because I got too tired to do so.

The day you went away.

***

I didn’t attend Guangyang’s memorial on Saturday nor met up with common pals to pay respect to him.

Cos I had another event to attend on Sunday.

I am not a superstitious person, and I personally loathe the silliness of what might clash with what, and the obscenely stupid traditions one has to follow which make no sense to me.

Friends who know me will know that I have no taboo, and don’t see the need to avoid this nor that, or not to do what on this day just because it might jinx my future according to Chinese traditions or whatsoever.

In fact, I was thought to avoid stepping across burnt incense papers when I was younger, and I stubbornly refused to avoid doing so this year when I had to cross over the road and I was choked to death by the polluted air.

I will always pray and refuke all these in Jesus’ name.

Yet again, with due respect to my friends, I decided I will not mix a sad occasion with a happy one, and decided to skip the meet up on Saturday, just in case, I would ‘bring bad luck’.

It was an odd Saturday…

Exactly a year ago, I suffered terrible spiritual attack, and my faith was put in doubt with the strange encounters following Guangyang’s death.

I sensed some form of presence at home, and I was affected by Guangyang’s death so much that I was reluctant to leave my room. I don’t quite remember eating much back then.

Few days following his funeral, I stayed in my room, and the day when I finally wanted to leave home, I felt something present in the living room.

I stared intensely into the space and it was asphyxiating.

I started praying to God. I shut my eyes and it was almost too draining to fight the spiritual attack.

Not forgetting how I was shivering and chattering non-stop at the funeral, feeling some sense of oppression.

I wanted to dart back into my room, but I know Eileen was waiting.

However hard it was, I almost ran out of the house.

When I finally met up with her, I was a picture of daze. Talking to her how I had to drag myself out, cos it was the only way to keep myself sane.

Too much gloom looming back then.

I remember heading to cell group after that, sharing with Serene how I had so much questions in mind about the whole episode, especially with everyone saying how they saw Guangyang at the wake.

One saw Guangyang standing behind me.

One saw Guangyang standing beside the rubbish bin when someone had lost his bike keys.

In fact, when no one could find the keys, the guy dashed to the rubbish bin, and he didn’t even peek into the rubbish bin, stretched his hand into the bin, and fished out the bunch of keys.

That was hours after the bunch of keys were lost.

My beliefs and my encounter confused me.

I was taught not to believe in the concept of afterlife, and what I felt and saw, were contrasting.

Eventually, I got the answers I needed at the cell group.

We believe in the devil, and how he would take the form of those familiar to us to instill the fear and sorrow in us, that we would be manipulated by other beliefs.

And yes, I do believe in ghosts, and I am timid, but somehow, my own defiance built by my beliefs stood against those.

And why do I bring this up, you ask?

I watched The Exorcism of Emily Rose of Saturday.

It evoked tons of questions about my belief(Christianity and Catholic are different, but still, the thought of Jesus and God sprung up to life), and I did an inner reflective conscience review at the end of the show.

I had never watched a single horror movie in the past 4 years. The Ex abhorred horror movies, you see.

And yes, FF was right, I watched the movie -cough- through the buttonholes of her jacket(and before you call me a loony, peek through your button hole and you will realise you would see quite a wide view of everything, alright!).

Yes, I prayed before I watched the movie too.

There was a part of the movie, I nearly cried.

I suddenly remember a slightly familiar scenerio when my faith was high.

The part when Emily Rose was called to the field.

White, and misty. I saw, felt and been that before.

If God does love you so much, why did He allow you to go through all these sufferings?

Didn’t we ask of this over and over again, so many times before?

The answer she had, was the same answer that was given to me.

It struck as a painful reminder.

Eerily familiar.

Forgive me, O Lord.

***

It’s funny as I read back the archive from a year ago.

I saw how I was speaking of the shaken faith with Guangyang’s death being mystified and attributed to the forces of evil.

And I saw myself blogging about I am in need of a holiday to London and Europe!

An excerpt:

I feel like flying off to somewhere.

Maybe the States or somewhere in Europe. Maybe to Prague or Rome where I had soooooooooooo much wanted to grace and whore myself in front of the camera.

I feel like doing it without much planning.

Say, buy tickets tomorrow(Sunday), set off on Monday or something.

No planning. I don’t even see a need of informing anyone.

Backpacking would be nice. How does sleeping on the streets feel like? Depriving myself of the cosy hotels I took for granted.

I still very much have London’s map etching deep in mind. I wonder if much changed in the past 5 years.

I need a solo holiday.

To a beautiful place where I will feel so minute, so tiny.

Seeing different things, experiencing different stuffs.

Refreshing the worn body.

Don’t worry. You guys will know about the trip when I update my blog in a cybercafe in San Francisco or such.

Or maybe, I will give my parents a buzz from Rome to inform them their little princess had embarked on an adventure somewhere.

Or perhaps, I would give the man who was once in my life a call from Old Trafford to account my absence from cell and church.

Cool. How very cool.

Darn. After a year I first blogged that, I am still lingering locally.

And quaintly, when I met up with FF in Orchard at 3pm on Saturday, we had spoke ideally how we would want to be going away to somewhere, just to experience a different life for a few months before we get too old and have too much commitment to get away from.

And I saw myself thinking of Gracie when it drizzled and I felt like dancing and skipping in the rain a year ago.

And coincidentally, I was speaking fondly about her to someone just.. couple of days ago.

Timing, timing, timing.

A sign or something?

***

I had an enjoyable time with FF on Saturday. Had lunch at Pepper Lunch, and it was fantabulous, I say.

Though we both smelt of grease after strutting out of the joint.

We spoke mainly of our dreams of venturing elsewhere, but the financial strain might be too great to handle.

Alas, US is her preferred choice, and my love for the English accent and European men(especially the Asian ones) would mean we might not lead a life together overseas.

We were drifting into our ideal worlds throughout the day.

I even went to the extent of trying on fashionable trenchcoats, just to ooh and aah over the winter clothings as if we were really shopping for our trips.

Boots, trenchcoats, knee length skirts, and colourful, soft mufflers.

Chic!

And to think that I was such a fashion disaster when I was staying in London that I didn’t make full use of it as a fashion parade.

Wasted!

Aww… darn. I am set into my holiday mode again.

The yearning always comes at the end of the year.

I love the last quarter of the year, I think I mentioned before.

Oh yah, I litted my Christmas tree last night!

Pretty. *beams*

Right after lunch, we went for the movie at Lido.

The last time I was there to watch a movie, must be more than 4 years ago.

My 4th movie for the year.

One movie with Meiling.

2 movies with FF.

One movie by myself.

Whee!

How cool.

I still have 2 movie tickets, free, which were given to me in January this year, and not make use of.

How… pathetic.

***

And I shall not mention how the 2 of us snuggled up close and grabbed each other, squirming in our seats when the scenes got a wee bit too disturbing.

Horror movies are.. evil.

When you are single, that is.

Or, in FF’s case, when your partner is not around.

***

As we finished the movie, we had thought that we would give Kenny and Vamp a call.

Vamp said she would be meeting Elfry for dinner at Holland Village, and asked if we would like to meet up.

We thought it was cool, since we thought we would be meeting Kenny at Wala that night.

Kenny had called us late Friday night to arrange to meet at Wala Wala, or so we thought.

When FF and I met up earlier, we had thought we had confirmed with him over the phone on Friday night.

So when we placed the call to him on Saturday, we thought if he was in town, we could meet earlier, or to confirm the time we would be meeting.

Some miscommunications had misled him into thinking that we had wanted to meet up with him privately in town, and it was quite a hilarious phone call where he didn’t get what I mean, and he didn’t get what I mean.

I had thought we would confirm the timing with him, and asked what time he would be meeting us or if he wanted to meet us earlier since we would be free and meeting Vamp in Holland Village.

When we called, his respond was, ‘Err.. Would you guys be free tomorrow afternoon? Anyway, I would be at Wala, and if you guys can make it, you can come down join me since I would be meeting up with Cowboy Caleb.‘

And err.. can make it? I thought we said we were going down already? Oh well, I think the miscommunication was bad. *Laughs*

Apparently he thought we wanted to meet him in town.

Since he already had plans, we decided he could go ahead. And a shame that our schedules were packed on Sunday to meet him.

We went around to do some shopping for Baby Rene and yet couldn’t find anything else.

Thus, we made our way down to Holland Village to meet up with Vamp and Elfry, and to have our dinner at 8 plus in the evening.

We opted for N.Y.D.C. and I joked to FF that I hope they wouldn’t bar me from entering the eatery after the strawberry milk incident.

Thank God, they didn’t.

In fact, they were so impressed by my previous encounter that they still remember me, and decided to give me a free treat of desserts!

Yah, right.

Then again, not totally untrue.

Anyway, speaking of the incident when the jerk got strawberry milked, someone got milked on Saturday night! Not by me though. *Giggles*

Due to budget constrain and a strong desire to diet, I decided to skip dinner and went ahead with a piece of Banana Chocolate cake instead.

FF had a Times Square mudpie.

And I shall not mention how our desserts include gawking at 2 cuties wearing grey tees, sitting at the corner of N.Y.D.C..

Vamp arrived with Elfry shortly after.

Right then, my delicious cake was served, and I devoured most of it in matters of second.

FF looked a me, mused with a tad of disgust and amazement, ‘Why did you eat so fast?‘

Gluttony Hunger was my excuse.

Just as I savoured the last remaining bite of my cake, something didn’t taste quite right.

I scrunched up my face, and the taste was too puke-inducing that I had to spit it out, despite there were 3 people at the table who might be sickened by the sight.

It tasted too foul. As if the banana had gone really bad and fermented.

I wondered if it was me over reacting, and offered Vamp a bite.

She took a bite and her expression double-verify that the cake was bad.

We got the attention of a waitress and she took away the cake.

She later returned to ask if I would want another cake, or if I wanted the order to be void.

I chose the latter cos the former would be too harsh on my waistline since I had almost finished the whole darn cake.

Mind the gap, you hear on London’s tube. Mind the flab, when you witness Ting wearing a tube.

Oops. Too corny.

Vamp and Elfry then had dinner, and the waitress returned to inform FF and me that her mudpie would be on the house, too.

Yay!

Yay!

Yay!

Good service. Not because they void the order, but because they were prompt to remedy the situation without any fuss(though the sight of the spat out mash of chocolate/banana/saliva would be enough), unlike someone’s encounter with Forbidden City some time back.

I didn’t ‘teyh‘ my way through, alright?!

***

Vamp thought FF and I seemed tired and faraway for the evening.

Yeap. Indeed.

She was in US, and I was in UK.

***

We proceeded to T.C.C. for coffee thereafter, and my thoughts were with the little timid one throughout.

Dad called to ask where I was, and that he could give me a lift.

As much as I wanted to stay out, I decided to head home instead.

Dad gave FF a lift, and for the first time, I heard her stringing together some Mandarin, and I tried hard to refrain from laughing out too loudly.

***

The little basket peed along the corridor leading to my door cos she was upset with me leaving her at home.

Dad’s masculine look softened when he returned home(he had left for supper alone but I decided to head home first cos 1) I wanna check on Creamy 2) I needed to use the bathroom urgently. Pee pee! 3) I was wearing too short a skirt to be at a coffee shop) to see the little furball looking on to him inquisitely.

He played with the timid one who seemed a little scared initially, but slowly warmed up to Dad.

When he knew that Creamy was peeing round the house, he had wanted me to cage her up, which I quite couldn’t bear to do.

Most of the time when Dad returned, I would just hole up in my own room, but the night was brought closer cos of Creamy’s presence.

Dad even bought me ice-cream, the cone type, which I adore.

It was 3am, when I could take it no more.

***

It was in my delirious state when Kenny SMSed me, and we exchanged a few messages.

I burst out laughing when this message came through:

‘Cowboy Caleb got drunk and pour milk on me ‘

I messaged him back that it was at Holland Village I splashed strawberry milk, and it is so coincidental that he was ‘milked’ there.

Holland Village shall now be the jinx place of milk.

Darn. I should be there to witness the fabulous episode.

Muahahaha, should be darn comical and hilarious to see Kenny looking helpless.

Kenny, what did you do to render such a treatment?!

Tsk tsk.

I laughed at the absurdity of it, and dozed off in a matter of seconds.

So scary.

***

Sunday.

Dad came home in the morning to let me some documents.

Now, I am a proud director of some company I know not of.

If I go bankrupt someday, I know not why either.

Anyway, Dad bought a pack of chicken rice, too.

I told him I would be heading out for lunch later, and we could share the pack of chicken rice.

We both chatted over a packet of chicken rice, and it seems like a sweet way to kickstart a Sunday.

***

I finally met my god-daughter, Rene.

It was also the first time since a long while ago since I saw Rene’s Mummy, Eileen.

Yes, the very same Eileen I had mentioned earlier who dragged me out of the house a year ago.

Everything seems to draw back to a circle, doesn’t it?

I shopped around Bukit Panjang Plaza for a little while, before going over to the already packed Eileen’s place.

***

I swear I am going to avoid future gatherings at all costs.

‘Eh, you so fat, even the lard on your body is more than someone who had just given birth -pointing at Eileen-’

Yes, I am aware of that.

‘Wah! Why you so fat?! You should go on diet already!’

Yes I already am on a diet.

‘Wah! What happen to you? Lose weight la!’

I also would love to, ya know?

Thanks. That does a lot for my self-esteem.

*Bows*

For that, I am proud to say I ate lots at the buffet lunch.

For that, I am proud to say that I haven’t eaten anything for today and have no intention to.

Perhaps, tomorrow, too.

I just need some kind souls to contribute to my ‘Make Ting the hottest blogger through plastic surgery‘ fund.

Kidding.

The part about the hottest blogger, that is. But I am serious about the plastic surgery fund though. I just need jabs to make the flabs go away.

Muahahaha.

***

Whilst I was digging into the yummy buffet food, a familiar face struck me.

I gawked for a long while, before I plucked enough courage to approach the male subject in question.

‘Hi, er… are you Mr Teo?‘

I felt as if I was picking some guy up or something.

He gave a polite smile and nodded slightly.

‘Are you a teacher?’

‘I already am retired, but ya, I used to be…’

*GASP GASP GASP*

‘Oh, I used to be your student, exactly 10 years ago!’

Mr Teo Long Cher, the disciplinary master of River Valley High till year 2000.

He had taught in River Valley since 1965, and I only knew that when he sat me down on one of the stools to do a little catching up.

Of course, with such a wide number of ex-students, it was almost impossible for him to remember who I am.

When I was in secondary 1, I remember most people used to fear him a lot.

Imagine our horror when we realised he was going to teach us Mathematics in secondary 2.

But, his smiley self and his penchant for concluding his sentences with ‘Right?’ always tickled us, but yet we would not dare to laugh cos of his stern image.

He spoke English like most Chinese-educated teachers would, and it was quite a hilarious sight.

Once, our classmates even tried to calculate how many ‘Right’s he had spoken throughout the 2-periods class.

I couldn’t remember the exact figure, but it was staggering high.

Speaking of highs, I remember there was once he wanted to describe the peak and low of graphs, and his animated actions were so unintentionally contrasting to his usual self that, we were trying hard not to laugh.

He didn’t know it was comical to us, as we were all trying hard to stifle the urge to burst out laughing.

All of us looked weird, and he thought we didn’t understand.

So, he did the whole squatting gesture to point to the base of the transparency screen again to illustrate his point, till I had to bury my head into my arms, to laugh.

Yingjun was sitting beside me then, and I could see him adam’s apple moved as he tried hard not to snigger.

Secondary 2, I was only 14.

Mr Teo sat me down at the stool, and the first thing he asked in Mandarin, was, ‘Did I scold you before?‘

Seriously, he was so much fun to have in class that I didn’t remember him in a bad way.

I shook my head and said no. Perhaps because I had always managed to escape, or act like a good girl when he wasn’t in sight.

And his mellowed self was definitely different from the aggressive self, and I met his wife at Rene’s full month celebration.

Apparently, his aged mother is a friend of Dave’s mother.

Such is a small world.

I don’t think I will speak with so much affection for my secondary 3 or 4 teachers, not even my form teacher, I am sure, though they might remember me more vividly than he does.

But Mr Teo, is different. I remember him quite fondly since my secondary 2 days. To the extent that, I was never quite fearful of him as the discipline master.

Note: Maybe because I never had problems with the disciplinary figures in school, until my parents let rip that they had been called to the principal’s(that basket Tham Tuck Meng who made irresponsible speech about Malaysia and Singapore issue back then) office when I was in secondary 4.

I have not even ventured into Tham’s office for the entire 4 years, and yet they were invited?

I never did want to ask why and what, but perhaps I would ask my Dad in time to come. I am curious.

And as we caught up a little, Dave and Eileen were both perturbed why was I chatting to a middle-aged guy with so much enthusiasm.

Eventually I thought of a small incident that I didn’t manage to share with him.

1997. Graduation Day.

I had ran away from home from my fighting parents, taking refuge at a friend’s place.

My friend was a nerd, who offered to coach me for ‘O’ levels, so I didn’t have bad company back then, except for the rebel in me.

Felicia had paged me to attend my graduation.

I decided I shall, but I didn’t want to go home.

So I went straight to her place that morning, since she was staying right next to River Valley High School back then in Pandan Gardens.

Since I was in shorts and tee, I didn’t have my school uniform nor my school shoes with me.

I needed to borrow Felicia’s.

She very kindly lent me hers, and Felicia had always had the cleanest uniform.

Problem was, she was 13 cm shorter than I am, and of slightly bigger built.

So, the ill-fitted uniform looked like a lingerie on me. Short and loose.

Anyway, she lent me her shoes, which were a tad loose for me since my feet were relatively small.

And, I had a crew cut back then, remember?

I didn’t like to gel it, and it was all over the place, all fluffy and unkempt.

The moment came, when class 4I had to proceed onto stage to get their report books from the then-Miss Soh.

As I queued, I could remember the disapproving stares from the lower-secondary students, and it was obvious cos they were looking at the hems of the uniform.

As I was a very unhappy teenager, I threw a cold-stare back, without a care.

As index number 4 strutted up the stage, there was a slight defiant swagger in her steps as the tomboy as she always was.

Slowly, everyone started tearing, and as I almost did, a tap on the shoulder alerted me.

I turned and saw Mr Teo standing right behind me, on the stage. I smirked, and knew what was in for me.

I guess it was quite prominent to be approached on the stage by the discipline master in front of the whole school, eh?

He wasn’t angry nor did he raise his voice, but he asked in Mandarin why my uniform was so darn short, and that it was indecent.

What a memorable last day in secondary school.

I defended myself, quite lamely that my uniform was stained by the chemical during O levels Chemistry practical, which was days prior to the graduation.

Mrs Look came over and didn’t speak a word.

They didn’t scold nor lecture. But just said that I should get a change of uniform from the Student Counsillor’s room after the graduation.

But, hello?! That would be my last day in school and we weren’t even having lesson! Why would I wanna borrow a change of uniform to head home in?

Of course, I didn’t heed it, and I went back to join my peers on stage. No fuss, no lecture. Unscathed. Of course, most people beneath the stage would have seen it.

And when I saw the final picture when everyone was lined up on stage, I wasn’t in it!

@*^#@%$%@$!

Anyway, that was the last piece of memory he left me with in River Valley.

***

Mr Teo left and slowly, the rest of the bikers Eileen invited reached, inclusive of Mr Ex, Philip.

I spent some time away from the crowd cos I had enough of people telling me I am fat, and that I needed some time to myself.

I had a great time cuddling the little bundle of joy.

I am getting maternal with Creamy, and now, with Rene.

My first touch, with her.

Aww…. such a sweetie in my arms.

Ugly picture above, but I don’t care.

She slept throughout her ordeal in my arms.

She doesn’t like me much, does she?

Hahaha.

Anyway, what her parents had told me was that she has an extremely high-pitched voice, and loves to be photographed.

Easily startled by loud noises, like thunders.

And, she loves to stay awake till it was 4am in the morning.

I attributed it to the fact that the mother had read too much of my blog, and my god daughter is taking after me.

Muahahaha.

No darling, don’t grow up to be a person like me, alright?

***

I will blog about my affinity with Rene in time to come. I would have done so today but I thought I wouldn’t have the time since I would be rushing out for a coffee session later on.

I cuddled her close to me, and said a little prayer with her in my arms.

Lord, do look after this little gem here, and guide her along in life. Amen.

Joanne gave me a lift home, and as we got out from the carpark, Mr Ex was leaving too.

With the pretty helmet I so much wanted to get. Yes, yes, Rossi. The helmet, not him.

As we sped along Bukit Batok road, I jokingly looked to him and asked him to pull a wheelie, as we saw 2 police cars behind.

Mr Ex had decided that a litre bike would suit him more, and might want to let go of his ZX12R.

Spent my evening at home mopping, wiping, and showering Creamy.

Alvin, Denise and Eric turned up slightly after Creamy and I showered(Yes, I showered with her in the bathroom, not together though), and it was another mahjong session which I lost.

The little cutie was just happy that there were people to play with her.

Just after they left, it wasn’t long before I succumbed to the sleepybug and ended my day by midnight.

Ah well.

Mundane stuffs, eh?

Oh, heh, a gorgeous picture Pablo Nieto sent me through MSN.

I thought it was too hot not to share with everyone.

Tsk tsk. If only some of these beautiful people would let me shoot them instead.

*SLURP SLURP*
I rest my case.

Was in town yesterday evening, meeting a couple of bruised souls.

And I know, they are not the only ones around me, going through the rough patches in life these days.

Somehow, they are the very ones who loaned me some strength to deal with my predicament these days.

Nothing much for me to say, really.

Except, Thank You.

Today is weird. I feel well. I don’t feel devastated.

I spoke to person after person after person after person….

Yet, story after story that unfolded, touched me a great deal.

Suddenly, I thought of the date nearing, 11/12 November. Next couple of days. Gee. Tomorrow, in fact.

Yes Yang, it’s about you.

November, is always an emotional month for me.

Had been so, since I was 16.

I ended up bursting out in tears. Er, don’t worry, it was just a momentarily outburst that lasted less than -laughs- a minute. (Weakling!!!)

In fact, less than 10 seconds, I stopped the tears.

I thought of cheering the girlies up yesterday, and bought a couple of post cards.

I browsed but didn’t find anything that I adore.

Until.

Vincent Van Gogh. Starry Night.

I remembered an old friend in Cambridge who had sent me a post card with the picture on it.

That was, the London days.

And, the song came to mind.

Vincent (Starry Starry Night) - Don Mclean

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you

Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow

Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They're not listening still
Perhaps they never will

Stay well, ladies.

Be strong. Or I am sure we can have our therapeutic ladies’ night to lend strength to each other.

Whee.

I love having girl pals.

Genuine, sincere, non-bitchy, non-competitive ones, that is.

Sleeping pattern for the past 4 days:

Saturday - Woke up at 1pm, with only 5 hours of sleep from 8am.

Sunday - Woke up at 11 plus in the morning. Had slept at 7 in the morning.

Monday - Only managed to nap for 1 hour after falling asleep at 9 plus in the morning. When I woke up at 11 plus in the morning, I was unable to get back to sleep anymore.

Don’t ask me how I survived the night without feeling an ounce of fatigue. I was very awake throughout the day, in fact.

Napped for 2 hours from 5pm - 7pm, feeling totally zoned out.

Today - Woke up at 11, after falling asleep at 7am.

I can’t get back to sleep at all! I think it is time I depend on sleeping pills.

I am just too tired to carry on my day-to-day task, but now, however tired I am, I am still unable to get enough rest for the body.

Yes, I know how some of you are going to nag about my screwed up sleeping pattern being the culprit. But think of it this way: The culprit to the warped sleeping pattern is something else.

Sleeping too much, or sleeping too little. Doesn’t that sound awfully familiar?

Despite for the past 3 days of sleep deprivation, I was either out or had been extremely active.

But yet, nothing seems to max my system out enough for me to feel enough fatigue to be knocked out totally.

And, I seem to develop this resentment for my desktop.

I don’t seem to have a want in me to linger around it, or to use it. Except when I needed to catch up some news, search for some sort of information, figure out my direction with the street directory, or for the occasional blog hop.

It will take a tremendous amount of discipline, for me to get through this entry, really.

Did I mention my back hurts? I seem to pull/overexert a muscle or something.

***

Wednesday. 2nd day of the 11th month.

I did something for the very first time.

I only managed to fall asleep after lunch time on Wednesday, and woke up few hours later in the evening, in a complete daze.

In a ghastly state, I headed out in the damp weather, short of makeup and depleted of a boosted spirit.

Clad in glasses, hair dishevelled in a sluggish bun, randomly bit into by the pecan clip. Splotches of rashes publicised across my face audaciously.

Yet again, helping friend out with phone calls and such in the Central Business District. Something I had grown very sick of. Some kind of torture I had subjected myself to.

Perhaps, it is a good thing that my mind was pretty much in a blank. I could switch off the compartment holding my pride, ambitions, and emotions, shifting my gear into auto-pilot, devoid of any expectations from myself, getting on with the chore mechanically.

It’s sometimes interesting who you get to talk to over the phone.

I gave a slight encouragement from a certain person, whom I realised, was from the same secondary school I was from.

A mere stranger. A mechanical engineer who had just started on a permanent job despite 3 years my senior.

Anyway, that wasn’t really the point.

I got a call from VampTreSS, who was having a shoot in Tanjong Pagar as well.

She was meeting up with Nick and Kelvin in the drizzle, and they said they would pick me up later to meet up.

I left the office building at 9pm, strolling in the drizzle, as I tried to navigate them to where I was.

Nick and Kelvin had decided that, they would expose the ignorant one(that is, me) to….

*Drums roll*

Counterstrike(CS)!

Yes yes. For the 1st time ever in my life(!!), I was going to play LAN game.

Excited, was the little girl in me.

Obviously, there was a hidden agenda behind the game.

You see, my friends had always thought I would be such a joy(ahem) to watch when I turn all panicky and clumsy with the keys as I try to eliminate my opponents.

So, off to Marina South, we went.

I could hardly contain my enthusiasm, and was starting to plan, albeit a tad prematurely, how I would kill everyone who had mocked at me.

Coincidentally, Brian and Mindy were having dinner there, and the 4 of us had planned to meet up with them there.

It was just Brian when we reached there, cos Mindy was still with her colleagues at some steamboat buffet place nearby. Shortly after, another pal of the group, Charles, joined us.

Nick and Kelvin had indulged in some arcade games, whilst Vamp and I roamed around.

It was then, when I bumped into Stefanie, one of the female riders whom I had really great impression of.

The horror sept in when she commented I had gained weight.

It was really nice to see her again.

Later that night, Nick was telling me that they were driving around to look for me to pick me up, when they saw a female figure, and the thought it was me.

Kelvin had commented, ‘Don’t think so, too big(as in, the figure was too big a size to be me)’.

Eventually, Nick had claimed, it turned out to be me, indeed.

Double horror.

And, in the very same day, Poo had messaged me on MSN, showing me the link of a picture I had took with Janice, and made some brilliant comment on my bulging tummy.

3 blows in a day!

I meditated and refused to eat for the next couple of days, cos, food brought guilt and disgust.

But as usual, I could never put off the temptation for long.

Vamp insisted that I should eat something, and I succumbed to a curry puff and a stick of sausage.

As we stood outside the entrance of the game centre chatting and munching on our snacks, I realised how it is impossible to eat a stick of sausage without being the butt of suggestive jokes.

As usual, I nearly dropped my food, and in a rare occasion of precise reaction, I swiftly rescued it and popped it right into my mouth, much to the amazement of Vamp.

‘Did you see that? That was sleek! Gee.. She’s good with her mouth!‘ she mused to Brian, as they fagged by the entrance.

I was really trying hard not to read into the innuedo that was encrypted.

Darling, I can be real swift and sleek with my movements, alright?

Always Sometimes Rarely Sometimes.

Finally, the 3 of us ventured on to get started on the game, as the 2 of them tried to coach the impossibly slow one.

My fingers stubbornly refused to cooperate with the keys, and my marksmanship… er, what marksmanship?!

Before long, the group of 3 expanded to a group of 6, and the game rolled.

I shall not mention how when an enemy appeared right before me to start shooting at me, I would cringe and retract my hands off the keyboard and mouse, just so that I could cover my ears in horror, at a loss what to do.

‘AIM AND SHOOT!‘ Vamp shrilled.

‘RELOAD!!!!‘

‘BUY WEAPONS!!‘ Vamp reminded.

‘KEEP YOUR HANDS ON THE KEYBOARD AND MOUSE!!‘ Brian roared.

Occasionally, they would reach over and help with the game. In fact, there was this point when I was the sole survivor(I don’t know how), and I was supposed to denote a bomb(tsk! No one told me that I have to, since no one would think I would ever be the last survivor) by pressing the ‘E’ key, and I was so clueless that Brian exasperatedly reached over to take over the keyboard aggressively.

‘Oh. You won the game for the team,‘ he announced, as I cluelessly nodded in amusement, smiling gleefully at this achievement.

But, darn, the honour wasn’t quite mine, was it?

There were many voices from the far side telling me where to go, and I got disoriented from walking in the maze-like game scenerio.

In fact, I swear I had motion-sickness, feeling the queasy nausea overwhelming me.

Kelvin zero-ed in on me and I was murdered X times by him.

There was this part when someone came up to me and all I could do was to shrill and fluster.

‘AIM!!! SHOOT!!‘ was the chorus from Nick, Brian, Vamp and Kelvin.

I did, and I don’t know who I killed.

There was another time that I aimed, and instead of a pistol, I ended up dancing a knife around right before the enemy, and I was in a state of horror when I didn’t see my pistol.

Stab. Stab. Stab. I can’t even remember how I mutilated my enemy.

I ended up shooting at my team mates most of the time.

I shall not mention how I was caught in the cross fire between one of my team mates and the opposing team.

Until I heard roars of laughter from 4 of them, and Brian raised his voice in exasperation, ‘OI! Get lost! You are blocking my view! I am trying to kill him!!’

I didn’t realise he was trying to aim at the opponent, and my character was sashaying aimlessly to and fro, blocking his view, shielding the enemy instead.

The vehement of laughter from the rest were merciless. Hmphf!

I may not be a brilliant CS player, but I was a great entertainment, alright? -consoling self-

Jeff came and joined us, watching the game by our sides.

***

It would have been quite a relaxing evening on a holiday eve, until Roy called, and the joy was slightly dampened.

Oddly, I don’t feel any irritation as my night was cut short, cos seriously, I think I could understand how awkward a position the group was put in, and how he would inevitably feel left out, or slightly affected when the group has to split just to accomodate the 2 of them.

Vamp then left with Jeff, and I declined their invitation to join them, opted for home instead.

Nick and Kelvin left Marina South immediately too, whilst Charles and Brian stayed. Since Marina South is pretty inaccesible, I had asked for a lift to get to the main road, where I could grab a cab before midnight.

But, the 2 darlings were incredibly sweet to give me a lift back home, when in fact, they were heading towards North and East to pick up their respective girlfriends, when I actually stay in the extreme West.

We had stopped by somewhere along Bugis so Nick could finish a phone call with Roy, before we continued on the journey.

The sedan cruised along the expressway, scattering my thoughts, bit by bit into the night, until, my night finally concluded as it negotiated the bend, into the lobby of my apartment.

My first time.

The guys were right. I do suck at the game.

Give me some time, I would awe everyone with my brilliant tactics and precise, ruthless marksmanship.

*Cough* Yah, right.

***

Interestingly, a mail awaited me that night.

An apology.

Woops. I should have an inkling what was happening when I saw someone being referred to my site from Netherlands, searching for ‘Joewei Ting‘.

Actually, the apology wasn’t necessary, really.

It was just a difference in views, cultures, lifestyles, and people. No one is to be blamed or whatsoever.

I really do think so.

It was just something, I had anticipated.

Horror of horrors, I admire whoever who has the patience to pore through my archives.

I bet he had finished till June 2005 by now, perhaps?

***

Slept throughout Thursday. Read throughout that night till Friday noon.

For the first time, I actually knew.

That someone had devoured my entire archive. All 3 years of it.

Imagine my utter flabbergastion when SBB matter-of-factly mentioned that he had finished my ENTIRE archive of 3 years plus of rubbish.

I cringed at the thought of that, and I couldn’t stop ‘eeeewwwwwww‘-ing down the phone at this piece of revelation.

I know my archive is free for all to read, but then I have this fear of looking back at my own past, and made it a point not to read them, cos a lot of things, I would rather not remember.

And what’s with their sanity? Who in the hell would read through such lengthy posts with barely any hint of substance in them?

Their patience awes me.

Yet, I feel exposed, naked, and susceptible to scrunity and judgment when someone reads me too much and feel that they know me very well, simply from my words, or worse, my kooky talks and thoughts.

Seriously, those past posts were written by someone else, not me. I hired someone to write for me, really.

So you are not reading me, really.

*Cough*

***

Saturday. 5th day of November. How swift.

It was 1pm, and I could hardly sleep anymore.

I stripped my mattress of its modesty, and did laundry for my sheets.

I scrubbed the tub, did house chores.

But the highlight of the day, was when I finally decided to diet no more, cos I had this immense craving for chilli kangkong.

That, was fulfilled, when I met up dad for dinner at 5 plus that afternoon.

It was great to see dad again. And when I hopped onto his car, I had exclaimed, ‘Gee! Long time no see!‘.

Says something about how often we see each other eh?

Even though sometimes he does return to the apartment, I would either be occupied with my own stuff in my room, or that I would be sleeping.

Had a talk with dad over late lunch, catching up a little, and scrutinising how age had taken a toll on him.

It was almost painful to gaze at those fine lines that weren’t there in the past.

The greys.

For a 60 years-old 4 years ago, he had a vigourous head of black, unlike many balding or greying men of his age.

And now?

The haughty grey is pushing the black away, staging an intrusive invasion.

The thought of that the silver and grey will soon reign, was enough to bring me close to tears.

It was a slowpaced, but ultimately sweet Saturday, cos I had a brilliant company out of Dad.

***

He gave me a lift to the nearby neighbourhood to Alvin’s.

I sat at the void deck, waiting for Alvin and Denise’s return, and enjoyed the quiet buzz of the neighbourhood, in the slight breeze, dwelling in the lingering unspoken affections earlier on.

My thoughts ran to my dad, and mum.

And rarely, do I feel that I want to be near them.

That day, was one of the rarity.

I miss the feeling… of home.

Or perhaps, the concept of home.

I know, things would be different when I am place in the situation, where the constant bickerings would drive me up the wall once more.

Home, in my mind, is an ideal.

***

Alvin and Denise returned half an hour later, with their friend Eric in tow.

Mahjong session!

I joked that they always chose the right days, when I have barely enough rest and sleep prior to the game.

Eric was having a good hand throughout the night, and all 3 of us ended up pathetically broke after losing to him consistently.

A $17 damage was bestowed unto me at the end of the night.

It was fun though.

Had a break of McDonald’s, and I ate again. 2nd time for the day. Darn.

Alvin gave us a lift back home after the game, and it was already past midnight.

***

Weekend night. Feeling aimless.

Was supposed to meet up with Nick and Vamp for coffee, but Nick was last minute bugged by a tummyache, and it was just Vamp and me for the night.

Orchard Swensen’s. Where I gave in for a beef burger. Well done to my diet plans.

Spent the night stoning, chatting to Vamp, watching her SMS, and seriously, I can’t remember what we had talked about throughout the night.

Everything about that night was hazy.

I only remember how I had needed a walk, which means something was bugging my thoughts, which I now can’t remember what.

We eventually walked down the stretch of streets, to be greeted by the ongoing Subaru Impreza Challenge. Amusing, I say.

I am too old to endure through such physically demanding task, and was duly impressed by the energetic youths, at almost 5 in the morning.

And, I saw someone familiar. This guy who wore braces, and is slightly shorter than I am. Some guy, who asked for my number back in last year when I was clubbing with Eileen(who is now a mother of Rene! Gee! And yes Eileen, I remember this Sunday!). Of course, he didn’t recognise me.

As I walked away, I saw a girl who caught my eyes. Plain, but striking. I pointed her out to Vamp, and Vamp, I bet you didn’t expect that she and her boyfriend ended up as the winners.

I saw a sight which I was greatly disturbed.

What disturbed me more was my inability to react appropriately.

I saw someone pushing the bikes on the pavement down onto the floor.

As I was across the wide road, I didn’t do anything, but to stare at the guy. I had wanted to shout at him, or perhaps walk up to confront him. Stop him, call the police or somjething.

But I just embroiled in a staring match with him as Vamp said that there’s nothing much we could do anyway.

I abhor it when I give up doing something I ought to do.

And now, the guilt of not doing anything that night, haunts.

I shouldn’t have walked away, not doing anything.

We walked to a bus stop, where we continued our talk, about how families shaped us to who we are today, and how people would never see a side of us that is hidden, protected from the eyes of the public.

That night, we heard Unwell.

We heard Superman twice.

Interesting. Nice songs.

I was tired. Very.

I finally hopped on a cab, at 5.40am in the morning, though I had wanted to scrimp on the cab fare by waiting till 6. But my body was giving up on me.

The cab ride was interesting. I saw a BMW with its 4 wheels in the air as we passed by Holland Village.

***

Sunday. The 6th.

However, my fatigue did not help me with a good sleep.

I woke up just after a few hours, just unable to go back to sleep however I forced myself to.

I tell ya, it’s an extremely uncomfortable and unpleasant feeling.

I finally decided to head out.

Alone.

On a Sunday afternoon.

Town.

It had been a long while since I am out in town. Not to mention on a weekend.

I had almost forgotten how a Sunday crowd in town is like.

I was tired. Very tired. But had wanted to run some errands.

I left home, contemplating on wearing just a pair of shorts and a casual tee. Slippers. Glasses.

Eventually, I decided I shall not be an awkward sight in public on a Sunday.

I donned a loose top, and a flowy skirt, and reluctantly popped in my contact lens.

No eye shadow, no eyeliner, no mascara, no lipstick, but only a thin layer of powder to conceal the disgustingly flawed face, and a lick of lip balm to sooth the painfully chapped lips.

Rashes come with sleep deprivation.

Made a stop at City Hall to pick up a card which I had in mind for FF(welcome home, darling!).

Hardly stopped by any other shops except for MPH, before I strutted down to Funan IT Mall which is in the vicinity.

Oh, gotten something for SBB from there, and the ungrateful brat accused me of having perverted thoughts.

Which simply, isn’t true.

Tsk tsk. How perverted can IT gadgets be?!?!

Only perverted people would twist the pure intentions of innocent people. Innocent people like me, obviously.

I felt as if I floated through the day, with the occasional unstable footings causing a trip or two, possibly stemming from the unfulfilled rest.

Took a train down to Orchard, and made my way to Lido to Strip Co-ed, where I did some personal grooming.

Now, I have neatly plucked…. brows.

It was a nice day, warm but tame.

I exited from the building, looked around me, and enjoyed the cheery weekend sight, secretly envious of the shopping mass in twos, threes, or groups.

Can you believe it? I did not walk into any boutiques at all.

I think I am few of the rare women without the shopping genes in them.

Since I was in town, I dialed for a few girlies, and asked if they happen to be in town.

After 5 phone calls, Roumin responded positive, and I asked if she wanna meet up for a short drink. She agreed and said she and Ryan would walk over.

Cream Bistro at Pacific Plaza was the meet up location, and it was the first time ever, I met up with Roumin, not in a group.

I sat there, indulged in my book, as I sat next to the glass door, temporarily shelled away from the world.

Shortly after, the both of them turned up.

A group of youngsters full of vigor soon arrived and took one of the alfresco seats, right diagonally opposite to where we were.

As I caught with Roumin, asking about the recent up-tos of the girlies, I thought I saw 4 pairs of eyes looking in our direction from that table.

‘Your friends huh?’ I asked Roumin.

She took a peek and shook her head. In turn, she asked if they were my friends which I wasn’t able to recognise through the glass due to the reflections.

Feeling puzzled, I thought hard and tried to recall if I had forgotten the people I had met before. Were they some acquaintances whom I failed to remember?

I looked to the couple sitting to our far left, and thought they might be looking at them instead.

‘Or is it my hair looking weird and out of place? Is there something on my head?‘ I combed my fingers deep into my tresses, shuffling them consciously.

Roumin laughed and assured me it wasn’t the case.

They might be the couple’s friend, I thought.

Janise called in the midst of our conversation to ask for my bank account number, and as I was occupied with the phone call, the waitress made a small talk with Roumin.

Suddenly, Roumin mumbled something which I didn’t quite catch, as if saying she doesn’t think so in respond to the waitress’ question.

‘You don’t have an English name called Scarlett right?‘ she assumed.

I nearly shook my head since my concentration was on the phone. Then her question hit me. I stared at her with momentous disbelief, and wondered where did such a question come from.

‘Ah?!‘

I took a pause from the phone, and nodded a tad hesitantly.

‘Er.. yeah, I am,‘ I answered a tad sheepishly.

‘HUH? You are?!‘ she gave me a wide-eyed surprised look, and turned her head to look at the waitress.

I realised it was the waitress who asked. I blinked in amazement, as she pointed to the youths at the other table, saying that she thinks they are my friends or something.

At the same time, I was trying to thank the waitress, speak to Janise, deal with Roumin’s look of suspicion, and trying to catch the eyes of the youths to give a polite wave(actually I don’t know if I managed to do so).

‘Oh God,‘ I mumbled down the phone to Janise, ‘someone just asked if I am Scarlett‘.

She got what I mean immediately, and laughed.

I whined, ‘Gosh! NooOoooOoo! This couldn’t be happening! I didn’t have enough sleep. The horrors! Dark eye rings! No makeup! And I didn’t bother to suck in my tummy!‘.

The immediate reaction as I said that, I sat up straight and took a deep breath in.

As the phone call ended, Roumin grilled me when did I get such a cheesy name as ‘Scarlett’.

I had to explain it wasn’t my real name, but an online persona, just like how Wenmei is Pishako, if she does read Wenmei’s blog.

‘Oh! So you blog!‘

‘Um, yeah, I do.’

‘You posted your pictures on your site? How did people recognise you?‘

‘Yeah, I do. I don’t know how they did that either. Now this would be the scrutiny of how photogenic I am, how I am in fact flatter and fatter in real life, and how my bulging tummy is worse in real life. The dark eye rings.. Oh no… I am shy.‘

*Bites nails nervously* *Gulps in fear*

‘Scarlett… Scarlett… Scarlett…‘ she teased as I scrunched my face in return.

It was immense awkwardness. Conceivably stemming from the inadequacies I felt.

Should I say hi? Should I wave?

When Roumin and I stood up to head for the ladies, I turned to smile, but when they held my gaze, I immediately felt an utter sense of shyness and looked away with a bundle of nerves.

‘Gosh, darn, I am shy… Should I smile? Should I go over and say hi? So awkward.‘ I muttered to Roumin as I felt my face flushing up.

‘Scarlett.. Scarlett.. Scarlett! Wahahaha,’ she was amused as she repeated it. I cringed at the sound of it, too, oddly.

We sat around Cream Bistro until it was around 7 plus, and I made my way home.

Just as I was waiting for a cab, 2 familiar figures were waving at me.

It was Denise and Alvin!

They had kindly offered me a lift after their dinner, but since I was rushing home to catch MotoGP and do some chores, I opted for the more expensive alternative.

Back home, it was vacuuming, mopping, before I collapsed into the bed, a picture of fatigue.

SBB dropped by late, and we spent a good half of whatever that was left of the night, chatting.

I chuckled as he tried singing the Doraemon theme song with that babyish voice, which was rather cringe-worthy.

I was informed that some creep had posted my pictures on www.sggirls.com, the site that I had totally abhorred when it posted my pictures 4 years ago.

It was the precise reason why I had fiercely guarded my pictures’ privacy for the past years, without revealing my pictures, so they would not be put up to be subjected to condescending talks, and mean criticisms.

Obviously, the person has something against me, to be signing up a new account to post a couple of my pictures up, claiming that I am a social escort, and a slut, even getting my name wrong.

Sorry to disappoint whoever you are, but I am neither. Thank you.

And. It’s Joewei. Not Jowie.

I am tired. And yes, sometimes they do get me down, though I had very much wanted to deprive them of the joy of doing so.

Ah well. Cool.

***

The horrors.

Don’t ever keep your private blog’s address in your address bar.

Or else….. you would end up like me, scrambling to password lock some embarrassing entries, when someone you had been bitching about speaking fondly of found out about the site when he accidentally scroll down the URL address bar.

Or, begging him with pleading eyes not to read on.

Or, kicking yourself over your stupidity when you panicked and knocked over a finished can of A & W when he had wanted to check it out the site, signalling that you have something to hide.

Or…. oh well.

***

It was almost 9 plus in the morning when I finally succumbed to the sleepybug and fell asleep with a husky, deep snore.

For the first time, I…… I am not sure if you guys really want to know, but I decided you guys don’t need to know.

Interesting. Hurhurhur.

Anyway. Not that I am proud of my growls.

My Sunday ended, just like that. And Monday, started slightly more than an hour later.

I woke up an hour later, hugging my pillow and made my way to the hall, with my eyes closed, to find SBB on the phone.

As much as I tried to force myself to grab more rest, I was feeling too awake to do so.

Apparently, the one on the phone was unable to coax himself to sleep either.

It is interesting when you dig through your old belongings, and manage to find some of the gems you never thought existed.

I was like an amused kid when I sifted through my very messy store room for a helmet bag, and found my back protector and the shoulder guards for my jacket.

Now, where are my SPS gloves?!

Oh, and I am actually a proud owner of a deflated Umbro soccer ball.

Oh, and I am actually a proud owner of a pair of blades which I shall make good use of.

My eyes litted up with enthusiasm, as I gasped out loud in surprise whenever something surfaced from the piles of messiness, which prompted SBB to laugh at the silliness of the entire episode.

Grr….

He left slightly before noon, and I was unable to sleep on further, and my day was kickstarted into gear.

It was noon when Kenneth(yesh, my partner-in-crime for Cat’s wedding emcee-ing) messaged to say he was doing the accounts for my estate, and that he was in the area.

We met up for lunch, and since we were clueless where to go, we decided to go with his suggestion of IMM.

When we reached there, he told me his budget was 5 bucks.

I stared at him and rolled my eyes.

‘We could have settled for dinner at the coffee shop opposite my place!! Tell me where to get 5 bucks lunch at a mall?!’

We eventually bought some snacks from Old Chang Kee, before we made our way back to the coffee shop opposite my place for lunch.

Over lunch, I peeped at his blue IC, and grew immensely jealous.

Blue IC, signifying his permanent resident status in Singapore.

I ‘Aww’ when I saw that he was by right, a British citizen.

He was borned there, and yet had never lived there.

!!!!!!!!!

Unfair! Cheater.

As we spoke of London and Europe, I spoke of my desire to live there for some time before settling down in Singapore again.

It used to be something I resent, but now, I feel that I should give myself a chance to find out what is life like, overseas.

I used to be too homesick to enjoy my days away from home, yet I am now more than ready to embark on a life, totally different to what I have now.

Before long, his lunch break was over, and I bade him goodbye to return home, to the cool embrace of my air-conditioner.

Whee.

Until late noon, when I finally could grab a couple hours of nap.

Headed out late to meet up with Vamp for supper, since I had wanted to make my way down to FF’s.

FF was supposed to touch down around midnight, and I thought I would drop by her place to drop off her card, so it would be the first thing she would be greeted with when she reached home.

The original plan was to air-freight the CD over to her, but it was too late, and FedEX would be beyond our budget.

So, after alighting at Buona Vista MRT, I walked to her block, which I was approximately 800m from the station, stated by www.streetdirectory.com.sg.

It was a cool night, thank goodness.

I strolled the neighbourhood with my instinct, hoping I got the right way.

In fact, I did. I finally saw the block, and with Gavin’s help, I got the unit number correct, and knocked on the door for FF’s sister.

Passed her the CD and I embarked on another 25 minutes walk to Holland Village.

It was almost 11 pm when I finally reached to join Vamp and Dylan.

Was standing up to order my drinks when I saw a familiar face.

One that hasn’t changed since 8 years ago.

My face was littered with disbelief when he caught sight of me, confirming my uncertainty.

It was indeed him, Zhaosheng, my secondary school classmate in River Valley.

He was one of the 2 guys, besides Wenjie, whom I have yet to see ever since my graduation 8 years ago.

8 blardy long years.

How nostalgic.

That would mean when he last saw me, I had crew cut, and was a tom boy without a hint of feminity.

The height of my rebellion.

When I was pimplish.

Gosh gosh gosh.

I was really glad to see him after all these years.

As usual, we parted with the standard ‘hey, we must meet up for coffee one of these days!‘, which is often said, seldom executed.

***

It was after one plus in the morning when I saw a missed call from FF.

She had called to say that she finally saw the clip. Since she had helped us to buy discounted Guess jeans from the outlet mall, she asked if we wanna drop by to try on the size.

Why not, we thought.

We made a move to her place, and we were so glad to see her back to us again!

Glad you like the clip, darling.

Whee!

And sadly you mortals would not have the honour and privilege to gawk at the tear-jerking, award-worthy, heart-warming 6 and half minute video.

To protect the identities of those involved, darlings.

The jeans fit me just nice, and the darling even got me a pink tee from the outlet mall. Thanks sweets, that was brilliantly awesome of you.

***

We left Dylan to tame the hyperactive Jack Rusell, as he and FF’s sister bitched about the bitch(Rascal the bundle energy, that is).

***

The bitter, coffee-like flavour tingled my tastebuds I took a solid drag.

The burnt, sharp aroma tickled my nose as I watched the other 2 ladies spitting shapeless but visible veils of smoke.

There, in the kitchen, we stood. Staring into the darkness outside the window, blurring it out with each and every breath we exhaled.

Cigars, from the US of A.

Slim and dainty.

With a distinct delicious taste like some delicacy, as if it was a food, since we weren’t supposed to inhale it.

There, we caught up with the week.

With Ooohs and Aaahs from kinky revelations, disgusted Ewwws from astonishing revelations about my morning, shocked and wide-eyed bewilderness from each and single of our recent encounters, and cooing over how cool and loving her trip had been.

It was an impromptu but intimate girls’ night.

As we retreated into her room thereafter, I was lost in my thoughts, somehow.

And the poor FF suffered from a battery-scare. Muahahaha. But we all heaved a sigh of relief for her when the gadget buzz to life.

It was 3am, when we finally made our way out of her home, and I hopped on a cab, with SBB on the phone, till it was slightly after 4.

And sometimes, I wonder what I get myself into when I would unwittingly get myself into bets I know I would somehow lose.

But, no risks, no gains!

I might not necessarily lose, right?

Hurhurhur.

And, after that, I was still unable to sleep.

Arghhhhhh.

What’s wrong with me?!

Oh well.

***

Spent today trying hard to sleep, blog, and coping with the sickening nausea.

Until it was night time when dad bought me dinner at 11pm, after I had finished watching CSI: Miami, did I feel slightly better, but yet had an incredible urge to spew everything out.

SBB insisted that I am a weirdo when I went ‘bubububububu..‘ as I stretched lazily.

And then further justify that I am a weirdo cos I spoke to my air-conditioner before.

‘You are weird, you even speak to your air-con!‘

But, people do talk to the computer, handphone, and gadgets when they fail, don’t they? Things like, ‘Hey! Don’t give up on me! Come on! Work!‘, eh?

‘No! Am not! Hello? Everyone does that! So what if I talk to my conditioner?‘

‘Oops. Air-conditioner.‘

‘Gee, you are indeed a weirdo! You speak to your shampoo too, don’t you?!’

Grrr….

Don’t get me started on YOUR ‘august’ joke, SBB. By the way, you do have a shampoo/conditioner joke somewhere, too.

I am not a weirdo. *Sulks*

Sometimes, maybe.

When I had excitedly furnishing him with the details of my recent CS game, I could almost hear him shaking his head indignantly, as he mocked, ‘You suck at CS, which doesn’t come as a surprise.‘.

I am just a beginner, alright? Hmphf.

And he assumed firmly that I must have been the butt of all jokes.

‘It’s not that bad right?‘

‘It sounds that bad.’

Duh.

But darn, he was right.

***

It is nearing 3 now, and I am facing the irritation of feeling extremely exhausted, yet my eyes refuse to shut.

My brain is going into overdrive, though.

***

Oh, today’s date is one of those days that used to mean something to me.

I am glad it no longer does, cos it would mean that my finances would free up.

I need a trip.

I want to go Europe, badly.

I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river and it made me complete

Oh simple thing where have you gone
I’m getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you’re gonna let me in
I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute why don’t we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don’t we go
Somewhere only we know?

***

Take care babe, I just hope for your happiness and well-being.

Words have failed me.

My thoughts and words just don’t connect anymore.

They just can’t flow freely as they sometimes would.

I don’t feel like chatting to friends online. I can’t seem to string a proper sentence at times. I am not able to blog, cos words had ceased to breeze through my waltzing fingers. They no longer dance. The crawl with a drag.

And yes, I can’t even put thoughts to words in email.

I just… can’t seem to sound coherent. Nor express myself with boisterous flair(not that I have much to begin with).

Perhaps, that explains the constant short posts these days that scratch the surfaces of issues lightly, but never in depth, nor any elaborated sculpture of words to bring experiences or thoughts across.

My memory is failing me too.

I just can’t seem to recall things that had happened yesterday.

Perhaps, I have intentionally eradicate my memories, substituting them with mere blanks so that nothing would haunt me, anymore.

It must be the will. Refusing the thoughts that seep through.

I know I would recall if I try hard enough, but something in me stubbornly shut it out.

I have troubles remembering.

Yet, I have troubles forgetting.

I know.

I do remember. Just that for the moment, it is less painful, to shut it like a vault.

But darn. I know myself too well. The vault is a faulty one.

Will be back tomorrow to blog. Um, about my Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday(since any other day I was spent reading and living the life of a recluse at home).

Meanwhile. What a boring but yet exciting(well, when you think about the impact it might bring next year) finish to the last race of MotoGP in Valencia.

I bet I am going to suffer withdrawal symptoms from it soon.

Alright.

Words have failed me, once again.

My thoughts, halt.

This is obscene.

I finally finished my book this afternoon, and headed off to bed.

I slept, and slept and slept.

I vaguely remember SBB called, but I have absolutely no idea what I said, replied, or whatever.

I just hope I didn’t make a fool outta myself in my delirious state.

I have a gift for sounding perfectly sober and awake when I am actually not.

Bad, bad, bad.

One other thing about me is, when I read messages that come in(yes, I do check my phone in the midst of my rest), I would register them, and delete them(!!!!).

Then, I would have total no recollection who the sender was, and thus, unable to reply.

Very bad.

I vaguely remember SBB called, only because I saw a received call on my phone, but was puzzled why he had called me on my handphone cos he would normally call my house phone first.

Then again, if I was THAT dead asleep, how did I manage to pick up my handphone cos it is just a tiny ‘beep’ without any ring tone?

Doesn’t quite make sense.

*Cues X-files tune*

I just can’t seem to remember.

Though I could recall I had 2 dreams. One is of the bloggers, another is of me knowing SBB for *gasp* 7 years.

Weird oh weird.

And in my trance state, I suddenly had this sentence popping up my head, I sat up, and went back to sleep again.

By the time I greeted my day, it was 2 am, 12 hours after I first slept.

2 in the middle of the night?!?!

Okay. That’s not the only thing.

Promise me you are still going to be my friend after this, alright?

-tiny voice- I had forgotten to shower yesterday.

Thus, first thing I did at 2 am, was to shower, and lather my hair in nice, sweet-smelling shampoo.

And it wasn’t the first time in this 3 weeks that I had forgotten to shower.

3rd, or 4th, maybe?

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

This is, so, very bad.

This is what happens when you stay at home a tad too much, and indulge in too much reading.

And yes, I am starting on my 3rd book for the week already.

How anti-social.

Good news though. I finally finished my video-editing, after the program crashed on me at least 10 times, and destroyed whatever I had done prior to that.

After redoing it for like 5 times, I finally managed to get everything together.

Phew.

I have to remind myself, that I would submit my PR application by the end of next week.

Oh, and purchase tickets for David T’s concert by next week too.

Oh, and get myself enrol for language courses.

Oh, and get myself enrol for courses that would legalise my attempts to kill the local pedestrians.

Oh, and get myself a new skirt and a new pair of boots.

Oh, and turn back my bodyclock to its normalcy.

Oh, and I have to get some work done with VampTreSS.

Oh, and taking care of Creamy.

Oh, and blog.

Oh, and finishing my newest read.

Um, yeah.

Oh, and sending out emails that had been long delayed.

Oh, the house chores, too.

Gee.

***

I had wanted to write something about being nice.

But somehow, blogger ate it up, and I couldn’t find the same thoughts flowing through again.

One of the most dangerous things in life, is people’s ‘niceness’.

I like nice people, but they are the most fickle-minded people around, somehow.

There will come a time, in a person’s life, that he decided that he shall be nice no more.

The day when he is wore down by the sinister world, and felt that he is being short-changed too much.

He felt there is a need to be consistent with the world.

He decided he shall retract his niceness, from those around him.

They don’t know why. All of sudden.

But he knows. He grew weary.

And he would turn nasty, when you least expected it.

Just like this *snaps finers*.

You don’t know why, you grew afraid.

You decided you shall not be nice too.

Vicious cycle.

Niceness, is most inconsistent with its stability.

Just a trigger.

I think, that’s why, I am always fearful when people are too nice.

Cos, I would always be guessing, when they will be retracting that niceness, and never return.

Or worse, turning the niceness into the sharpest sword ever, plunging into your back with full force.

Deep.

Very deep.

Scarlet blood seeps.

And you will never know what hit you, cos the only thing that you would see, is the blunt of the sword, sticking out of your chest, after its slick path through your heart.