Woah.

It is New Year’s eve and when I pried my lazy eyes open, I wondered if I had slept through the New Year or something.

It looks like 7pm or 7am with my room embraced by a dark, dimmed hue of gray.

I heard the thunders. I saw no lightnings.

Again, again, and again.

I can’t believe this. Nor do I remember when was the last time it stormed this way.

I am sure it is just a coincidence when I launched my blogger window and the total posts read ‘666′.

*Shudders*

I stole a peek out of my room, and all I see is the trees waving in a state of frenzy, and the density of the rain had let only the slightest bit of light comes through, wiping the vibrancy of colours off the view out there.

I am half glad I still do not have any plans up for New Year’s eve.

In fact, I was telling the guys that I might not want to head out if the plans are too last minute, and I would plan something for myself.

Like, watching Mystic River DVD, or reading my newest Jeffrey Deaver’s book.

Oh, maybe the After Sunset VCD I have saved for a time like this.

With the way things are dragging.. huge possibility that I would spend my New Year’s eve like last year’s, which is something, I enjoyed pretty much.

And it was storming heavily last year, this day too.

Not too bad, at least now, the storm is already clearing up, returning the soft blue to the sky, making it possible for the mortals to be let out into the open, travelling to wherever their party locations are.

***

My tummy still hurts.

Since Christmas.

***

Alright.

PisceansPeople like me abhor confrontation, and normally when situations arise, and there is a need for me to speak up, I would normally walk away and cease fire.

Sometimes I blame it on my own cowardice for not speaking up, nor fighting for the tiny piece of justice that rightfully belongs to me.

But say, if I have to speak up for a friend or something, I would gladly pick up a glass of strawberry milkshake to make my point.

I am not the most assertive person who would put my foot down firmly, but would walk away with silent curses which would soon be forgotten.

But if I do speak up, somehow, which is pretty much out of the norm, I can be what you call, an epitome of sheer bitchiness.

Not the words, but perhaps the piercing tone of my speech, and a harden look, with a penetrating stare.

If you have never seen that side of me before, good for ya.

Bad luck for the cab driver, who drove me home from Youth Park after my Battlefield game with the others.

***

I didn’t even confront the dishonest cab driver who had wanted to hide the extra 10 dollars I had given to him, but I guess this particular one had pushed it himself though I had wanted to let it rest.

Had decided to go by Holland Road instead of the PIE.

Just as we passed Tanglin Mall, along Napier Road/Holland Road, this white sedan appeared right next to us, driving in a rather aggressive manner.

Before I knew it, both vehicles were trying to swerve into each other’s lane, to make a threatening point.

The white sedan then moved ahead of the cab I was in, and suddenly screeched to a halt, in an attempt to catch the cab driver by surprise.

The cab driver braked head and I was thrown slightly forward by the force, feeling the safety belt cutting into my chest.

The cab drove up next to him, and the driver, who was already flush-faced, had his window wound down.

Out came a proudly erected middle finger, that cruised with the car for a quite a distance.

The driver’s face was one of menace, and he started shouting incoherently, in a bid to threaten the very pissed-off cab driver.

The car continued to try to swerve us off our lane, and instead of feeling scared or threatened, I was simply annoyed.

It wasn’t the first time this happened to me, and I remember some time ago, when I was pillioned by Philip, some drunk driver did the same to us, and a few other biker friends, along the PIE.

The cab came to a halt at a bus stop, and then the driver sneered when the driver didn’t stop to have a face-to-face confrontation.

I still thought he had stopped it so he would let him go first, and not be caught in the aggressive situation.

Quite naturally, I did my civil duty.

I picked up the phone, and dialled for 999.

I told the operator what had just happened, and a drunk driver was driving dangerously on the road.

Well, with quite a number of biker friends, I guess their safety is more of my major concern than anything else.

Mr Ex was involved in an accident, which was sparked off by such an irresponsible driver, and it is only right that he shouldn’t be allowed on the road.

I gave the car colour, car plate number, and description of the driver to the police, before leaving my name and contact number.

The driver overheard the conversation, and suddenly exclaimed loudly(conversation was in Mandarin throughou), ‘Huh? Miss, you called the police huh?’

‘Er… yah…‘ I replied hesitantly, with a soft, tired voice.

Miss! You want to call police, you should ask me first! You should at least ask me, you know?

Oh.. I didn’t know..

You wanna get me into trouble is it? This will bring me unnecessary trouble you know?

I kept silent, not knowing what to respond.

You scared is it? Just now give you a fright huh?

No, I encountered such situations before.

Ai yah, that was nothing what. Why do you have to call the police.

I decided to let it rest and not respond.

You know how troublesome it is or not? Wait he gives the police my number, and I have to be called down for interviews, go through this and that, and then you think I so free huh?

He went on and on and lament about the basket-y driver, and went on and on about how the driver had gotten him into trouble.

I not blaming you, don’t mind hor, I am just saying that idiot driver, drunk already then don’t drive la, now give me this kind of trouble with the police involved.

Getting slightly pissed, in my frosty, voice, I replied softly.

Don’t worry uncle, I just gave them his plate number and my number, I didn’t give your cab number or anything, so I don’t think they would find you.

Not sure if my silence signify that I am much of a pushover, and he started lamenting about the government and how they are always too free.

And he questioned why I even bother to call the police without asking him.

I raised my voice to a crisp, formal one.

The one in dry tone, dripping with chills and force.

Using my no-nonsense tone and formal Mandarin, I launched into my philosophical mode. I crossed my arm, and I could feel my face harden to one of resolute.

If uncle wants to get political, I shall, too.

You call the police for what? Trying to get me into trouble is it?

He lamented like a broken record.

Well, that was my safety, and I have every right to defend it.

Ai yah, he was just drunk, maybe he was having a bad day, I can understand also….

So? If he is really drunk he should be kept off the road, what if he kills someone with his dangerous driving?

Ai yah, where got this kind of thing one?

Oh, do you know how many of my friends fell victims to drunk drivers? That’s totally irresponsible.

Ai yah, maybe he has a harsh day at work, we all know people in this country under a lot of stress. But I just don’t understand why he has to show me the middle finger.. you bad mood then bad mood la, don’t have to be so crude.

Well, when people are drunk, they don’t think properly.

Ai yah, I don’t think he has the courage to do anything. I stopped at the curb, and he didn’t even want to stop, or else I might just get physical with him. I understand la, uncle younger that time also got a bad temper.. no need until call police what.

I already said I didn’t give you away, so why should you worry that much?

That basket, really trying to get people into trouble, drive, drive la, give so much trouble for what? Miss, I not blaming you hor, I am just angry with that person.

He mumbled under his breath, begrudgingly, and I know exactly what he was thinking. He couldn’t vent his anger on me cos I might complain to his company, thus, he was cursing that drunk driver, when in fact, it was me he was cursing at.

I just feel that it is only right to keep him away from the road so he wouldn’t try to harm anymore people.

Ai yah, this kind of things, none of our(I think he meant to say not my business) business, care so much for what?

That is a very irresponsible thing to say. What if one day your neighbour’s house is burglared and you see the burglar? Are you gonna ignore it as well? Then I will be very happy to know that you would be the next victim. Are you trying to say it is none of your business? Or would you like it if someone sees you being robbed, and decided to walk away cos it’s none of his business?

I had wanted to ask if he has a daughter, and that if one day some serial rapists were not reported cos people deem it none of their business, and she ended up the next prey. I thought it was too crude and skipped it.

Ai yah.. different what. You don’t know how free the civil servants in Singapore are! I was fined for parking, and I wrote in to appeal. Then they asked me down to interview, and questioned why. As if I no need to work, so free ah? Just write-off the fine only what? Like that need interview for what? Don’t know pay them for what.

I find you people very funny. People going by books and you complain. I don’t think you should belittle what the civil servants are doing. They have a standard protocol to follow. It’s funny huh. When they did not respond personally, people blame them for not looking into matters, and complain about them. When they try to do more, people accuse them of being too free. Hurhur. Can you guys make up your minds what you want? If you are saying they are not doing their government jobs, then are you doing what you should do as a citizen?

He didn’t say much thereafter, responded with only embarrassed, patronising smile. Eventually he changed his tone of voice to a patronising, mellowed one, that almost made me want to wring his neck with its fakeness.

Miss, eh, your mandarin very good huh, you not Singaporean, right?

I am sure he would ask me to mind my own business if I were to admit that.

Huh? I grew up in Singapore.

Wah, then your mandarin sounds very different hor? I mean, very rare got people in Singapore speaks such mandarin.

He tried to switch to English, thinking that I might not be as eloquent as I rebutted him.

He spoke of how he hoped the guy didn’t see his number plate, or else the police might get involved, and that he wonders why he has such bad luck(I bet he was thinking that ferrying me was THE bad luck), and that he might get into trouble with his cab company, and that he has wife and children to take care of.

Sounds like end of the world to me. Aww.

Which was shot down quickly when I launched into a tirade of rattles to write-off his selfish theories, and that as long as he didn’t do anything wrong, why should he even worry about that?

When I finally got off at the lobby, the fare was one that involved 5-cent.

When I told him I didn’t want that, he panickly asked me to wait, and insisted that he had 5-cent with him.

I told he that it really doesn’t matter.

He was quite nervous and insisted on me waiting.

Eventually I stood at the door for 10 seconds, just waiting for him to dig that 5-cent.

I think he was scared that I have something to complain about if he shortchanged me that 5-cent.

I gave him a stony stare with slightly raised brows.

Wimp.

Don’t trigger off that button in me.

Or else I would turn into someone I do not recognise when I put my foot down.

Not bad. 3 posts on the final day of 2005.

If no other plans are coming up, expect more from me.

23rd December 2005.

I can’t remember exactly how many times I had sashayed down the same busy path of Orchard, bruising my abused shoulders with knocks from the passing human traffic.

I didn’t quite know what to expect with such a last minute mad rush.

I had a quick lunch at my usual coffeeshop, and the auntie was almost in shock when she realised it was me.

Cos, for the past years she had seen me, never once did I wear my contact lenses, nor was I ever fully made up.

She casually placed down the plate of noodles I had asked for, and when I replied her in my usual saccharine sweetness, it rang a bell and caused her to raise her head to have a glance at my face.

She was like, ‘Oh my! It is you! I still wonder who it is.’

I sheepishly replied how make up can really do miracles.

I took a bus in the drizzle.

Couple of bus stops down, I saw a tall figure boarding the bus, the exotic and beautiful features unmistakable.

I called VampTreSS to ask if Joanna lives in the west.

Positive.

VampTreSS made me pass the phone to the shocked Joanna(if any stranger suddenly walks up to me and passes me a handphone to speak into, I would freak out too!).

Joanna was such a sweet personality, and I liked her.

A lot.

SBB called somewhere along the journey, and cute short the conversation I had with the pleasant babe.

***

It was 2 days before Christmas and I had yet to get something, or something else.

To the point that, I gave up looking for something, and something else.

I ended up looking for something’s substitute, and a backup for something else.

I reached Orchard in the drizzle, and strutted into one of the boutiques in Paragon, before sashaying towards Takashimaya.

Bad timing.

SBB’s call lasted throughout since I alighted from the bus, and roamed along the malls.

Because of that, I walked round and round the boutique in Takashimaya, not able to ask the sales assistant for help, cos that would probably give the game away.

I lamented how something and something else was almost impossible to find.

He tried coercing me into telling him what the 2 things are cos he was confident that he might know where to get them, and I refused.

Then he said that I might as well ask his friends for ideas or such, and I smirkly let known that the brilliance in me would have already thought of that.

But I decided not to ask some of his friends, cos they might let slip what I was getting for him. I dislike to spoil my surprises, ya know?

‘Unless you are getting me XXX, then it shouldn’t be any problem what…‘

I paused for a moment of silence, and my sudden giggles gave myself away.

@^#!%@#%!

Since I couldn’t find something already, I finally let rip that, XXX, is indeed, something I had planned to get for him.

Well, I shall not reveal what something is, since it is pretty much, er, exotic locally, and it is just not convenient for me to say so.

He then launched into a series of locations and told me where to get them.

@%#$!#%

The smart alec had originally thought I would make him a bike model.

Muahahaha.

When SBB finally hung up the phone, it took me less than 15 minutes to decide what I had wanted to get as I asked for help from the sales assistant.

I got pretty excited, and I called him to inform him that he wouldn’t be spending this Christmas without a present from me(not that it would make any difference from the ample amount of gifts he received this Christmas).

***

Right after I had walked out of the boutique, I darted into other stores to scout for some pressies for the girlies.

Another headache.

I was running out of my ideas, moolah, and I was getting a tad unwell from the crowd.

Eventually Mr Anonymous Y called, and we met up for coffee at Bakerzin, Paragon.

I haven’t seen the legal eagle for the longest time, and I have yet to return his 3 books, which were on loan to me since… er… March?

He is a fellow neighbour in my estate, and he threatened that I shouldn’t disclose our details of our conversation, or else he would sue my ass off.

Which of course, the kind man, didn’t.

I guess it is always nice that you thought that some friends would stay at a certain level, but you realise how fun it is when you disclose more about yourselves, and share with each other the experiences in life.

Cool.

But hey, it was a great deal of pleasure meeting up with ya, and, we should meet up more often, and soon.

Cos I owe you a treat for it.

My appetite even found the chocolate cake repulsive, and couldn’t finish it.

Something must be very wrong with me that day.

***

I had wanted Mr Anonymous Y to help with bringing my gift back home since he was on his way back home.

Eventually, I gave up that thought, and I stuffed the newly purchased gift into my tiny little bag.

I was going to meet up with VampTreSS and Brian, and SBB said he was somewhere in town.

Afraid that he might see the pressie, I kinda implied that I had hid it away, or asked a friend to help me to bring home.

Before I met up with the guys, I scrambled across the street to Takashimaya to browse at some items I might consider to replace something else…

***

I met up with SBB for a while before the rest arrived, and he didn’t quite want to reveal his identity to the group. He joined his friends instead.

I too shy also.

He tried peeking into my bag, which I guarded closely to my chest, and smacked his hand whenever it tried to come near.

Most of the time, he would turn back as we headed up or down an escalator, and found me out of sight.

My fear.

Once, he sheepishly laughed and said, ‘Oh, I forgot’, and led my hand as I stepped onto the escalator clumsily.

I think there was once, we were both just standing stationary, when he gave me one of those irritating cheeky glance.

As usual, I would respond with a frown.

He lunged forward and planted a big smacker on my lips in a swift and predatory motion.

I frowned even more, and responded in mocked offense.

Oh well.

Undeniably, it feels kinda nice.

The crowd in town was scary though.

His friend called to say that he was reaching, and we ended our short rendevous.

***

I ended up meeting VampTreSS and Brian who were already at Heeren’s Spinelli, around 8.

The 2 hungry ones needed some food, and the sudden downpour meant that they might as well settle their dinner there.

It felt so good that I could finally have a break from the buzzing crowd to ease the slight claustrophobe.

The rain veiled it with such a mesmerising thin sheet of mist.

And I was slowly getting…. sleepy.

I tried their chicken salad, and it was yucky. I nicked a bit from Vamp’s brown rice salad, and it was equally bland too.

Eewwww.

The only thing edible was its toasts, which weren’t impressive either.

Nick reached shortly after, and we finally decided that we would play.. CounterStrike. VampTreSS suggested us to play at Cineleisure, Level 9.

I was kinda apprehensive actually, especially after my 1st attempt at it was as dramatic as a comedy.

The way I squirmed, screamt, dodged under the table and pushed my rollerchair away from the monitor speak volume about my superb gaming skills.

We sat outside Cheers at Cineleisure, watching the crowd goes by.

Cute guys, cute girls.

And I marvelled how skinny some of them are, and wished I am back to my waifish self.

Sigh.

I was feeling kinda tired and my thoughts were drifting and weren’t quite following their conversations actually.

Eventually, we went up to Level 9, and were duly impressed by the happening layout of the gaming place.

Awesome.

We chose seats in this particular caged area, and the guys were eager to try out Battlefield(whatever it is) instead of CounterStrike.

Trust me, that’s the best confident look I could manage from my pre-game jitters.

Kelvin and Roy joined us shortly after.

I managed only 1 kill from the first game, and as usual, multiple deaths.

Sigh.

And to think Nick killed me a few times by running over me with the jeep, crashing the helicopter I was in, drowning me when we were in a tank, and some other weirdass deaths.

AND HE IS MY OWN TEAM MATE!!!

My first glorious kill was of Brian, when I finished him off with whaddyacallit thingy of the tank.

Hurhurhur. So proud of myself okay.

The annoying thing was that Brian was rather cocky when it comes to gaming, and I am rather glad to make him my only kill since it was pretty much an insult to him.

By the 2nd session, I had increase my kills, and I could hear the disbelief(guys, do you have to make that so obvious?!) behind the other monitors.

Slowly, I got the hang of the directions, and was able to know the pathway like the back of my hand.

Muahahaha.

Eventually I was teamed up with AliBrian and AhmadNick, and whenever the 2 of them gimme a lift on the vehicle(cos I can’t direct them well at all!), it made things so much more easier.

I swear it was purely coincidences they are my Ali and Ahmad in real life.

So the most heard shrill from me of the night was, ‘Hey!! Wait for me! I need a lift! Wait wait wait!’

So cool, huh?

But I was having so much fun at the end of it.

***

The highlight of the night was also when I was… abducted.

Uhm, well, not really.

Brian and Nick had snuck into the gents for a smoke break, and had locked themselves in the same cubicle.

Sensing some hot actions might be taking place, the paparazzi blogger in me acted up, and I armed myself with my camera.

Alas, I knocked my hand and I didn’t manage to capture the picture when I raised the camera overhead into the cubicle they were in.

Yes, don’t tell anyone I actually sneaked into the gents.

VampTreSS was keeping watch at the entrance.

Before I knew it, the door swung open, and everything else, was a blur.

Uhm, not really.

This was the only other picture I managed, before I was being pulled on the arm by the above monster, and then I felt a shove on the shoulder, that pushed me into the cubicle.

Behind me was Nick, and then, the monster stood right at the door, refused to let me struggle my way out.

I was being abducted and retrained by 2 men in the toilet cubicle!

*Gasp*

Oooo. Sounds kinky, eh?

But noooooo!

I could somehow hear Vamp’s voice outside, calling out.

I was wondering what was he up to, until I realised how he had kept me in the cubicle for a while, until he turned his head to his left to glance at the entrance, before he suddenly stopped grabbing me, and strutted out of the toilet, with a smirk on his face.

Nick followed, and asked me to get out of the cubicle.

‘Oi.. what were you guys trying to…..’

Before I could finish my sentence in the usual cut-glass pitch, I brought my shawl to my face in utter embarrassment, and scurried out of the gents in record speed.

Cos a guy was standing at the urinal, relieving himself.

And then, another was walking in as I was walking out.

That was their intention!

They intended to keep me in the cubicle until some guy is using the urinal and that my presence would….

AHHHHHHHHHHH

How evil.

I swear I was dying from the embarrassment.

Nick was trying to imitate the look on the guy at the urinal, and I was silently cussing that I didn’t have the balls to stare straight at him, bring my focal point down, and point and laugh apologise for my intrusion.

For that, I shall post the above very ugly picture of the perpetrator to express my apologies to the poor chap using the urinal.

If it happened to you, it wasn’t me you saw.

***

We left around 2am, as the guys had their fags outside of Cineleisure.

I saw Nick pulling back this tall, and well-built guy back as I emerged, and it suddenly dawned upon me what they were trying to do.

With a swift motion that you seldom see coming from Ting, I dodged behind the pillar as I heard the guys looking around for me.

They had wanted to introduce Mr Handsome Hansen to me.

I emerged from my hiding place right after the cutie walked out of sight.

Lucky I fast.

*@&#^!#

We headed to the Youth Park’s foodcourt for supper.

Hardly any appetite, as usual.

I was almost too sickly or tired.

The motion sickness wasn’t quite helping either.

We sat there, and I bumped into Steve, an old friend from the biking circle.

He is also a brother-in-Christ, who had offered much encouragement to me in the past.

Ironically, Mr Ex used to be quite wary of him, though he didn’t quite seem to have a justification of doing so, except that all guys are up to no good.

Anyway, he was with his girlfriend, who seems like a real darling, and I was really happy to see him.

Then, we sat around somemore to talk about conversations I couldn’t quite recall from the fatigue.

Home, was then it, as I welcomed the peaceful Christmas’ eve as I boarded the very cold cab.

And a dramatic saga awaits on the unpleasant cab ride back.

It was 1am when I finally covered the 1.5km with a brisk yet leisure pace.

Music blasting in my ears, and I stretched my vocals to match its roaring volume.

Nope, I wasn’t afraid of any form of mortals overhearing mytraumatising crooning in the dark.

I didn’t have to.

That plot of empty land that linked Bukit Batok and Jurong together, was of pitch-black darkness, and not a single soul was in sight.

Except for the passing traffic, zooming pass at high speed, either freshly exiting or eagerly entering the Pan-Island Expressway at the gigantic junction I was waiting to cross.

The buzz, the swoosh, or even the growls from above(the flyover of the expressway) were muffled out as I tapped on the ‘+’ for the volume.

I enjoyed the peace I spared for myself.

It didn’t quite matter that I had missed the last train by 10 minutes, and didn’t think there would be any direct bus that would still head to Jurong at that time of the night(12.05am).

I jaywalked(or rather, jayran) across the road when I saw a Route 174 coming to a halt across the street, which I know would stop somewhere near my place.

Just not quite near enough.

***

I took my time to leave home today, knowing they would be having a long session of gaming.

I realise how dressing up, or not, reveals a state of mind of my own.

I think the hormones are running amok today.

I felt great reluctance to be heading out despite it being a Friday, and the crankiness and homeliness could be easily identified.

I shall not mention how I locked myself further in, in a world of my own by stuffing my ears with earphones, to shut all the other mortals out of my reality.

I read the magazine of boxy Chinese characters, taking a break from the usual English novels I had used to fill in my time on train rides, head bow, refused to look around at the people around.

I sat myself down at Burger King for a short dinner, and I suddenly felt the urge to head home.

I felt a surge of tears rising to the brim as I was looking down on the Mushroom Swiss Burger’s sesame.

I swear I was thinking of nothingness, and the suffocating mix of emotions came out of nowhere, taking me by surprise as well.

I didn’t even feel irritated, but was thinking how cool it is that hormones have such a hold over us ladies.

I then decided to linger a bit more by myself, enjoying my own company, taking a slow read of the magazine.

I slowly sipped the last bit of water before I left for Level 9, where all the actions were.

I joined the guys slightly at half past 9, in the midst of their war.

I had fun, venting all my hormone-induced vexation on the opposition.

My shooting skills still suck big time!

And I still scream in the face of gunfires.

Bleah. So… girly.

Can’t stand it when I am so girly. Must be macho.

I kinda like using silly player names, so that when the experts are killed by the newbie with the cringe-worthy moniker, they would feel extra rage to it.

Imagine that you are killed by ‘IKnowUKnowImCute’ or ‘DonchaAdoreMe’. You get the picture.

Muahahahaha.

After around 3 hours, I left in the midst of the game, and it was as if I was a phantom player of the day.

Cool.

Wasn’t in my most sociable mood either(Yeap, sorry friends, if you find it rather hard to contact me these days).

No extra spending other than necessary.

Good girl.

SBB called when I was just ending my game.

I suspect he is some sort of jinx.

I went to thaw myself at the stairs exit since it was incredibly freezing at the caged area where we battled ourselves silly.

I was thinking of exiting, say, a storey or 2 down, to the mall, so that I could take the escalator.

The horror struck me when I the door shut itself with a loud thud, and I ventured my way down.

4 flights of stairs down, I saw the tiny notice.

It says that the only exit is at, yes, you guess it, level 1.

%#!$#!%#!

I was at Level 9, okay??

Apparently, all the exits could only exit, and have only one-way doors.

So I skipped, wobbled(legs tired, ya see), stormed down the stairs, all the way until 1st storey.

And there wasn’t a single living soul in sight throughout.

I wonder how scary it would be if there wasn’t anyone on the phone.

Just as I exited from the 1st storey, I opened the door of victory with such great force, as if I finally gained my long-awaited freedom.

Never did I expect that someone was sitting right in front of the door, cos he didn’t expect anyone to be using the stairs.

I feel ouch for him, cos the door must have had hit his back hard.

Oops.

Hopefully, the late waking hour of mine today would last me through the night, with more recaps to come.

I have like…. 7 entries in mind, which I do not really feel like leaving them past new year, ya know? And to think it’s already the last day of 2005.

I really do wish to do a glance-back at this extraordinary year.

For me, that is.

Friday.

Ahh… such a simple one.

And that, I had meant Emily Griffin’s Something Borrowed, something I had wanted to get for the longest time but was put off by the pricey tag.

The realisation hit me when I made a trip down to Borders yesterday.

The main culprit that had caused my present state of bankruptcy(besides SBB’s Christmas presents, muahahaha), is actually, books.

And I have to curb the urge to buy Brian Freeman’s Immoral(I heard it’s a blardy good read), and Collection of Short Stories by Ian Rankin.

I have just finished a female suspense writer’s book, and I realised why despite their immensely enjoyable plot and writing style people don’t usually like them.

I mean, come on, which guy would fancy reading a female police or female pathologist solving crimes and battling the baddies?

It will bruise their egos somehow, I guess.

Hurhurhur.

I shall admit how I was somehow reluctant to give female suspense authors a chance.

I have been reading nothing but suspense the entire year round, gripped by murders and hooked to the hunting process which is quite an irony cos the only books I had read are about God and serving Him in 2004.

*Yawns* I just woke up at 6.12pm(well, I finished my book at 9 plus, you see), to be informed that the guys would be meeting at 7 to play Battlefield, which I am contemplating of excusing myself from cos of budget constraints, as well as feeling a tad anti-social.

My blog needs some loving too, ya know?

The cool thing is, there will be NightRider for me tonight, and I don’t have to be bothered about cab fares.

I swear I thought it’s Thursday today.

Cool thing is, as much as I had been out for the most amount of times in the past week, some had been very kind to give me lifts home, which was a huge relief for the hole-bigbig pocket(though sometimes it’s still better for me to flag for a cab cos no one stays exactly near me).

Thanks to the kind souls out there.

And I am having a tummy upset.

I suspect its the sausages(!!!!!) last night.

And the sausages are screaming for attention, wanting a blog entry of their own.

***

I shall admit that these days I choose activities and gatherings that would not exhaust my financial too much.

Gaming is alright cos you don’t eat nor drink, and it’s buy 1 get 1 hour free.

Sitting down at someone’s place to chat is cool too.

Sitting down at some coffee joint(not expensive coffee places) is alright too.

Going to parties which has no cover charge, is alright, but boring.

Free tickets to watch Narnia was the most enjoyable of all.

Staying home, is still the best.

***

Latest updates for the lippy saga yesterday.

I hopped into Watson’s and saw the wide array of lippy on sale.

I randomly took one off the rack, thinking of trying it.

I paid for it and then went to the nearest washroom to apply it on.

Usually, I would be very generous with the amount of chapstick I apply on, and I would just anyhow-ly press it onto my lip with force, without tracing the exact outlines of the lips.

I stared into the mirror with horror when I realised what I had done.

I looked like a bloody clown with a thick cake of rouge, mixed with dead skin. Colours running amok.

Apparently, it was a coloured chapstick, that actually works like a lipstick itself.

Arggghh..

So there I was, without a piece of napkin, looking like a 4 year-old who had coloured her mum’s lipstick onto her lips skilllessly.

Arghhhhh..

I took some time to scap off whatever that was disgusting on my lips and stormed into Watson for the usual tube of Mentholatum, though I traded the yellow one for the purple one.

Let’s just say I don’t fancy the scent lavender that much these days, and I can’t wait to get my hands on another new tube of lip balm when this runs dry.

Well, at least my lips were no longer purplish nor chapped after I scrapped and peeled off all the dead skin on my lips.

***

I can’t remember when I really have the chance to sit in front of my monitor long enough, since I would either be sleeping till insane hours, or those less insane hours, are spent out of the comfort of my haven.

Or maybe I was busy indulging in some loving with SBB.

Muahahahaha.

Alright, now I shall really wash up and brush my teeth, and drag myself out of bed.

Then, I shall decide if I would meet the others for a fierce round of battlefield thereafter.

Oh, it’s already 7?

Oops.

I shall hereby declare I am one such.

For the past week, I had commited all the worst fashion sins, ever!

Anyway, I got the shock of my life when I woke up to find my lips a ghostly shade of purple and chapped.

I must get my chapstick the moment I hit town.

I wasn’t quite in the mood to dress up for Christmas, and imagine how I had spent Christmas’ Eve at a party(in which Denise Keller was there too) in a bland singlet, jeans, sneakers(the horror!), and are you ready for this, in glasses and makeupless.

-GASP IN HORROR-

Yet, on Christmas day when we were supposed to hole up at someone’s place, I was in a skirt, cos I thought it would be airy. Muahahaha.

Hurhurhur, I shan’t mention how on boxing day, I went to Orchard, yes, a planned trip, in my home shorts, tee(gee! Not even a spaghetti top!), flip flops, makeupless and in glasses.

I shan’t mention how the home shorts were threatening to slide down since it’s a pair of draw string one.

The look on Peining’s face was priceless when I called out to her, when I saw her on an escalator.

Her boyfriend was with her, and I said hi.

I asked if he remembered me, cos we had met in Attica once.

I spotted the slight shock in him.

Peining couldn’t stop repeating how ‘Oh my, you’ve changed!’.

Uhm.

Alright.

I wore a turtle-neck top in Singapore just the other day, when there’s no winter here.

I shall not mention how I am actually wearing a skirt right now, dressed in my taitai ensemble of black, bling-blings in the form of silvery watch and rings, and strappy heels.

Oh, and a Gucci bag in tow(well, I need more storage space today to ferry my book around, ya see?).

Throw in a beige wooven shawl.

Face tainted by war-paint.

Woo.

Sounds good?

Wait till you see the bright yellow, Rossi helmet in my hand as I sashay onto the MRT, screaming for the awkward attention.

Please pretend you don’t know me, or else I might raise my helmet and smash it across your face cos I am secretly hoping no one would give an extra glance just because of the odd combination.

As if I care, cos all I am bothered about is getting a free ride from Ali, my chauffeur for the day.

***

Nick was supposed to give me a ride to Roy’s place later tonight but he has a company dinner.

My search for a savior took form when I realised Brian is in town too.

Phew.

Or else how the hell am I supposed to find the God-knows-where place Roy is staying.

So, I messaged Nick to tell him, Hey Ahmad! It’s okay, I found Ali, and I could go there earlier with the cake.

I don’t know from where, he said, Moh-ahmad-ali.

Then I recall that the only other person in the group who had pillioned me before, is actually Harry.

So he shall be Moh, I joked.

But hey, Harry’s nickname is Maomao, so now, it’s Mao-Ahmad-Ali.

So lame, I know.

That’s what happens when you hang out too much with Mao, Ahmad and Ali.

One of my Christmas presents to myself is to surgically reduce my plump lips.

Yeah, right.

I don’t even have the financial means for that.

Anyway, my lips are suffering from the lack of attention these days.

Uh-uh. I am not saying that they are not put into good use(hmmm.. then again, they haven’t been working much anyway), nor am I saying that they are not pecked, nibbled, teased, licked, sucked, bit, and smothered with affections enough(which again, is not untrue).

No, no. Please do not view the above paragraph with sleaze-filled contempt.

I am saying that my lips have fell victims to my doofu-ism.

Some weeks ago, I lost my favourite Dior Addict 151 lipgloss, shortly after my dad had purchased me a new Dior Addict 181(which I didn’t quite like as much).

I blamed in on the petty 151, which probably went on a strike and left me in a fit of anger, thinking that I have a new pet out of 181, and it is losing its spot on my favourites-list.

Jealousy is such a tricky issue, eh?

Tsk tsk.

The truth is, 151, I have always adored you over 181, ya know?

I was so devastated when you left, not because of your 30 bucks worth, ya know?

Sigh.

Nevermind.

Earlier this month, on a late-night trip to Mustafa with SBB, he had kindly foot for the yellow Mentholatum chapstick I had wanted to buy to condition and sooth my grossly chapped lips.

When I had left it over at Nick’s place, he had brought it out with him when we met up on the 17th, Saturday.

And I lost it on the very spot at T.C.C., after he had returned it to me.

Feeling frustrated, I got myself a new tube the very next day, cos I couldn’t stand licking dry and rough lips.

Within a week, it was shortened by a centimeter.

I was flabbergasted when I failed to locate it in my bag just couple of days ago.

Presumably, it had fell out of my bag as I was looking for something.

Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

And I never had any problems losing my stuff, ya know?

Yes, I know it seems almost impossible to you guys that a clumsy and forgetful person like me had never quite lose her stuff.

Then, the new tooth-paste-like tube of lipgloss that gives me shiny, non glittery lips, which I had gotten on the 23rd, mysteriously went missing after SBB and I went out for a short coffee session at Starbucks in River Valley yesterday.

Which supposedly slipped out of my bag.

Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I have a feeling all my lippys get tired and exhausted for the extensive work they were put through.

So now, I have no lip balm.

No non-glittery moisturising lipgloss.

My lips are ugly, and undesirable. The no longer look nice when they wrap around SBB’s …smile, pout, scowl, or whatever.

Boohoohoo.

But, I shall be glad that the it wasn’t my key that fell out of my bag.

Nor my wallet.

Gee.

I shall be hunting for better lip balms tomorrow.

Maybe I shouldn’t, seeing how often they go missing these days.

Angry like a potato, I tell you!

No, no. Like a banana!

Argh.. no! Tomato.

***

Happy birthday, Roy!

You’re an old man now.

Woohoo!

I had wanted to listen to this song.

When I switched my MP3 player on, it is no wonder that the first song was exactly the one I had in mind.

It read my mind. Hurhurhur.

If only I could just think of 4 digits, and it would be a set that would make me a rich, and, very beautiful(think liposuction, rhinoplasty, botox and boob job) lady.

***

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

I came across a fallen tree
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I’ve been dreaming of?

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?

***

It is one of those cranky nights I feel a tad unwell.

Not sure if it was of the things that are happening around me, triggering the chain of thoughts that would lock me up further into the realms of helplessness.

After a brief phone call with SBB which ended around half past 2, I spoke to a pal of mine over MSN.

Slightly tipsy, was he.

Launched into a rather solemn topic, and we continued on the conversation over the phone, with him sounding rather sloshed.

001 call, not cheap okay?

Okay, that wasn’t the point.

He spoke of his 5-years relationship, and how it had reached a stalemate, going nowhere.

Quite strangely, I have heard a strangely similar conversation not once, not twice, but many times, recently.

Someone, once told me how he feels no love for his 6-years girlfriend.

Same with another in a 5-years relationship.

Same with another in a 6-years one.

4 years.

Such and such.

For me, it is slightly inconceivable, since I had never quite drag on a long-term relationship just simply because I feel nothing for the person anymore.

Even after 3 years, when I broke up with Mr Ex, I still felt abundant of feelings for him. We were still affectionate to the very last minute of our relationship, the exact point where we sliced those affections and intimacy of touch cleanly for good.

The after-effects were hard to deal.

Such and such.

The same old stories of relationships gone bad, what’s new?

It was always the point of devastation that drives us to the brink of breakdown, and the drastic measures we take to deal with the blow.

Thus, we loathe confrontations, and are cowards when it comes to overcoming the perils of relationships.

I realise how it has something to do with our pride.

Sense of loss, too.

Or how things are not going our ways, following our cues, or such.

How we may not be truly loving the other party that drove us to such stupidity irrationalism.

Something SBB and I spoke about, last night.

I said something about pride. About how we had always held ourselves with high regards, and when we lost the control over our predicaments, we wanna try everything we could to resume control.

Sometimes, with our stubborn ways.

Sometimes, when we move on, we might realise we did many things not out of love, but selfishness.

We are miserable, and we want others to be in misery with us, too.

Cos, we can’t deal with it alone.

Oh, add that to how loneliness is unbearable.

Call me a cynic, but I really realise that in this world, no one is indispensable. They are perhaps irreplaceable, but no one will die from not having the other.

But seriously, I guess I have became somewhat cold. I have to. There are some things I never would want to put myself through again. Nor do I allow myself to.

I know I would hate to lose many people in my life, whom I wish I would never have to let go, but I know, with experiences, nothing is for certain, and I have learnt to brace myself for the fall, everytime I get myself into a mess.

Is SBB one of those messes I am implying? You go figure yourself.

Hurhurhur.

Then again, when the other party is miserable, it stings us too.

And perhaps all these are just too much to bear, and that’s something that would not push us to make a decision that would throw us into a blender with all of those lethal emotions and reactions.

Friend just now mentioned how it was a responsibility for him, something he feels is not love, yet something that makes him go on.

How odd.

Friend N was telling us the exact same thing some couple of months ago during one of those coffee-session, that he doesn’t feel love for his girlfriend anymore, yet he feels that he can’t let go taking care of her.

Friend M was telling me how he feels no desire nor love for his girlfriend, and that he was bored, yet it was the friendship that is too precious to lose.

Friend L was telling me how she feels since it’s already so long, might as well go on cos it is hard to let go a part of her life, which has been there for so long, and that’s why they could never have a clean break.

Friend K was telling me how he was suffocating with her ways, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to bring up the notion of breaking up, cos he was afraid of pushing her into a state of devastation as he walked away. She might crumble, he was afraid.

A lady came along, and he dumped her.

Friend J was telling me how it was a way of life she had grown accustom to, and it is just the way it is.

All of the above told me they were all going nowhere, and they know it very well.

I am not sure, really.

I am sure all know what they really want to do, but there is no trigger for them to justify what they wanna do, and yet do not want to face a confrontation, which things might potentially turn ugly.

And for selfish reasons.

The sense of loss, especially.

Imagine how someone who has been taking care some aspects of your life you have been too lazy to do so, and it is just convenient to have such a person around, since he or she would do it for you willingly.

We are all selfish, and why not?

Stale it might be, though monotonous, it is not creating huge ripples that is too much for one to take.

I mean really. If I have a washing machine in the house, though it might not be the newest and sleekest model, I wouldn’t throw it away simply just because it is taking up space.

Unless it is breaking down too often, and it gets difficult to maintain it.

Or maybe, when someone gives me a new one for Christmas.

Or maybe, when it has to give way to put the spanking, large-ass fridge, which would fulfil other aspects, but wouldn’t allow space to accomodate the washing machine.

I am not so sure if it was me in such a position, I would have the courage to do what I think is right.

People are afraid of changes, so do I.

Perhaps I would look forward to the exciting days of being single, but at the end of it, I would wonder if I would be able find someone else who would share my life in that same way or not. Process is often long, and without much positive qualities to boost, it might be a huge difficulty for me, you know?

Or I would wonder if I would potentially lose someone who had been a part of a huge fraction of my life. Or worse, a friend I know I would love to keep in the future.

Or I would wonder if I have any topics to bring up, any Christmas gifts, Valentine’s gift to compare during the next girlie outing.

Or I would wonder if I would feel out of place, lonely and unwanted when everyone around me is nuzzling their loved ones on the cheeks.

Or I would wonder if I would be able to stop drifting, and find peace in settling down.

Philip once asked if I was afraid to let him go despite being utterly unhappy when I was with him last year, simply because I fear I might find no other man who would ever fall for me, or the search would be difficult.

I sobbed. Yeap, my self-esteem was a major problem, and till today, I don’t deny the fact that it was one of my fears.

See! More than one year on, I am still single!

Muahahahahaha.

Ah well.

I wonder if it is the end of the year, that make people evaluate what they really want.

And the vicious cycle will continue, into the end of next year, when a mundane routine repeats itself, until we get too old, too exhausted, too lazy to make any changes.

Who knows, all of the above might end up signing on the contract, for a simple reason of convenience.

Until someone who stir those emotions, and make them feel alive again.

By then, it might already be too late to back out, and situations get messy.

Who am I to say?

I just wish all of you happiness. Stay well, people.

And take the leap of faith, to do what you think is right.

Here’s the update to the situation last night.

SBB left for home after our rendevous in the evening, and freed up my late evening.

Had arranged to meet the gang at 9.30pm for a game of Battlefield 2 for the 3rd time in 4 days(yes, you have a new addict here, who needs her dose of Counterstrike or Battlefield as she shrills her sessions away with cut-glass pitch) at Cineleisure.

Yes, don’t start saying how I am slow in picking this up. I only first encountered Counterstrike couple of months ago, and this meetup.

2nd time was Battlefield 2 on the 23rd.

3rd time was Counterstrike again on 26th.

4th time, was, last night. Battlefield 2.

To insure ourselves, Nick and I had told VampTreSS to meet us at 9pm.

Mr Nick had brilliantly informed everyone else the meeting time of 9.30pm, and secretly told them to tell VampTreSS that it was 9pm.

And being the one staying the furthest away from town, I should leave slightly earlier just to meet them in time.

Please tell me you didn’t notice that I was still home blogging at 9.12pm(Evidence: Exhibit A - The blog post below).

I messaged Nick, who was with Max and Brian at Great World City(Grade A asswipes!).

10pm, he said.

Smart move on my part. If I left home there and then, I would be there on time.

I grew sceptical, and dilly-dallied a little more, before I finally sashayed out in my scarlet turtle-necked top.

9.30pm, it was.

When I was on the train at 10pm, VampTreSS called. it was the time she was about to leave home(Professional asswipes!).

I reached at 10.20pm, with a call coming in from Nick.

Max, Brian and him had just reached, going up the lift.

Apparently, Miss VampTreSS made it there at 10.10pm. One of the earliest.

So, I was the latest!

But can you imagine my horror when I realised everyone had just reached JUST minutes before I did, and had yet to start their game?

And those baskets had the audacity to name me THE asswipe of the day.

First and only time only, ya know? Muahahahaha.

Uhm, oh, and the night before.

But that is another story, and wasn’t exactly my fault.

Brian’s himboism silliness stupidity riding skills bad sense of timing (what’s new from a himbo?) was the culprit.

The night was spent with 2 hours of intense shooting and being killed(well, what’s new when it’s me playing?).

I tried to drive the stupid jeep and was abhorred to find myself hitting the wall and reversed into another wall, and banged into the same wall in front of me again.

I gave up.

But I managed to drive it twice yesterday!

Yay!

I managed to kill the others too(sometimes)!

Considering my first attempt at CounterStrike was only ONE glorious kill the first time round, to finally managing some kills is..*cough* no mean feat.

My first Battlefield game on 23rd, managed only 1 kill too. *Sulks*

The 2nd round that night, I finally did much more.

Happy, happy, is me.

And a surprise call came in, in the midst of my game.

From faraway Netherlands.

The chorus of gunshots, grenades and military command muffled most of the conversation, but it was nonetheless pleasant.

I was said to sound like a robot at times, and a -gasp- MAN(don’t believe Paikia when he says I have a babyish voice, alright?) at some other.

The only booboo was when I was trying to drive the jeep, I rammed into the wall and I shrieked.

My instant response was to apologise to the dutch man, and matter-of-factly said that I had just driven my car into a wall.

He got a slight shock, and thought I was driving, and had crashed, literally.

Oops.

I had to explain it was a game, and I didn’t how to put across Battlefield 2 to him.

The call ended abruptly as I was caught between gunfires.

The witty one was quick to throw in a jibe, ‘Oh, for a moment I thought you are really driving. I didn’t think your friends would want to be in your car if you really are!‘

Grr………..

Come on friends, I am sure you guys wouldn’t mind being my passengers if I ever do drive, right?!

*Vicious stare*

Good.

The game went on for 2 hours, and I am slowly coming to terms with my motion sickness when playing PC game.

And I wonder if anyone would be nice enough to buy me an authentic CD for the game. Counterstrike would be cool too.

I know Christmas is over… but I can always wish for but there’s 12 days of Christmas, right?

There’s still New Year, Chinese New Year, Valentine’s, and… my birthday, right?

The force for the night consisted of Brian, Charles, Max, Nick, VampTreSS, and Roy, who failed his advanced theory last night joined us late.

Brian, Nick and I were a team, and the other 3 formed the other.

I have a bad habit of yelping when I am under attacked, or when I panicked when someone blasted me to shreds.

I would feel as if I am at a real war, you see.

I would even lift my fingers away from the mouse and keyboard, just to cover my ears with my hands when I am scared shitless by the gunshots from opposition.

The rollers of the chair I sat comfortably on would set into motion as I pushed myself away from the computer, in a bid to dodge the sudden attack.

I finally met my match last night when this girl, who was watching her boyfriend playing some PC game, kept on screaming sharply as she watched him playing the hero.

When an enemy appeared, she would start to get panic, and occasionally hit the guy’s arm repeatedly to warn him, as she yelled out in horror.

The game ended half past 12, and Brian, Nick, Roy, VampTreSS and I went for supper across the road, at Youth Park.

It was early, at around half past 1, when our night ended.

I stopped at the bus stop, to call a friend whom I was worried about, before I boarded a cab home in the foggy night.

Take care, baby. We would tide you through this phase. We’re here.

Though I will not offer my tongue nor fingers.

You too, take care, and we too, are concerned about you, though you may think we are just helping her.

Had a short phone call with SBB, before I took a shower and relaxed right before the monitor.

I felt kinda… at peace.

Finally some private time for myself, after an intense week of gatherings and town-bound trips.

I indulged in my book, some other casual readings, and even some brief conversations on MSN with a few people.

Even had a 3-way call with Roy and Vamp.

Nick couldn’t sleep and came online and we traded songs.

Another surprise call came in when the one who was supposed to be asleep called during one of his toilet breaks at 4.30.

Merry Christmas, Sweetie, he said.

Ha. Do you always stop by the computer to read blogs during your toilet breaks?

A short phone call which went on beyond the intended timing.

It was 6am when my phone was placed back on its cradle.

I read for another hour, before I gave way to fatigue.

My first fulfilling sleep in a week.

I dragged myself up when it was almost 5pm, amazed by the quality of rest I had.

I read.

I fell overwhelmed by tiredness again at late 6ish, and I succumbed to it.

The next time when SBB’s call shrilled and start