Right after I blogged that day, SBB called early on Thursday morning.

He called again around 8 plus.

It was 11am when I finally slept.

***
My fear for reunions has dipped.

Probably because I felt immense pleasure everytime I met up with people I have known for more than 14 years.

Yes, people from my primary school.

I was jittery about the prospect of meeting up with 3 ex-classmates of mine, 2 of whom I haven’t quite kept in contact since graduation.

An architect, an engineer, and a senior accountant.

Uhm, yup, throw in the bummer into the list, and you have an oddball in the group.

We had planned to meet on Thursday for dinner.

I was still apprehensive about it, perhaps it was my inferiority complex acting up again.

I am glad I made it.

It was perhaps the nicest and cosiest meetup I have attended.

And I finally met Weiyang, the guy who forgotten that I was his primary 1, 2, 3, 5, and 6 classmate.

18 years, I have known him. Plus the embarrassing crush I had on him 18 years ago.

He only recalled me in his primary 5 and 6 crush, and I decided to keep mum about the crush part.

I haven’t seen him for 13 years.

Actually, we didn’t change much.

The features are still recognisable.

I have met up with Guoyu once in a while in the past, and I bumped into Annette just last year, and finally re-establishing contact.

I wonder how is it possible that we would be able to hit off like good ol’ friends, without the awkwardness or diplomatic/cliche subjects for the sake of conversations.

We could even jibe and mock at each other, laughing ourselves silly.

It was at some Japanese restaurant in Wisma where we met up, and I wished I had asked more of our other classmates along.

It was nice.

Warm and fuzzy.

And we have planned for yet another one, tentatively on the 11th February.

No prizes for guessing who was thrown the organising chore.

***

We spoke of how our other classmates are doing.

Countless in financial sector.

Handful of doctors.

Oxford lawyer.

Countless accountants.

Countless engineers.

A cadet pilot with SIA.

Architect.

Many overseas.

One bummer.

It was a bad feeling.

And I once, outscored most of them.

Or all the doctors, at least.

I really wonder, sometimes.

How did I end up as a ‘lifeless’ one.

***

It was that very same day, before I went for th reunion, when a friend called to ask me what would I be doing.

Reunion, I said.

Then, gaming.

Remembering the fact that he is a fervent gamer too, I asked if he would like to join me and my group of friends.

How long would we be playing, he asked.

4 hours, I supposed.(Yes, insanity)

He mockingly joked, ‘Play for so long? Hello, I am not like you guys, okay? I have a girlfriend at home to return to, and I have a life.’

Must be the PMS in me.

I stayed quiet.

Let’s just say everything didn’t end up in the right note, simply because I was already edgy about meeting my old mates, and it wasn’t the most sensitive thing to say.

So, you have a girlfriend, so you have a life?

Sorry, we are such lifeless beings to you.

So, most of those people playing are attached, too.

So, what’s your point?

Yes, I know I don’t have a life, cos:

All I have is an ambiguous ‘friendship’, and not a boyfriend. Hurhur.

And all I do is hang out with a bunch of no lifers, because I am also a nolifer, eh?

Thanks, mate.

In my pique, I had wanted to say, ‘Fu… Oh! If you really do have that much of life, then stick to it and not look for extra-curricular lifestyle. What life? What an irony! Ha.’

Spite, PMS, and injury to pride make me such a horrid bitch.

I, held back the words.

***

Though I know my outburst, was uncalled for.

Sorry.

***

I continued to have a lack of life thereafter the gathering, taking a train to Dhoby Ghaut MRT from Orchard, and strolled on the damp ground to Parklane, where the guys were.

Charles, Brian, Nick, Kelvin, Vamp, Roy, Taka, Aileen, and Boon were there.

I didn’t even manage to have more than an hour of fun, before the shop closed.

The horrid Nick had the audacity of teaching me how to blow myself up, when I thought he was playing nice to teach me the game.

Eventually, he was treated to what my PMS was capable of.

Despite looking every bit of the executive(hurhur, that’s dressing up for the part when meeting up with friends who are successful, you see), I actually rained smacks and kicks on him aggressively as I chased him down the lane of computers.

Jerk. Just like every guy.

Rooooaaaarrrrrr.

***

We left for Keppel, where we had supper at the railway station.

On the car ride there, I was ranting about how insensitive some pricks could be, and how my perpetual PMS these 2 weeks has made me such an ultimate bitch.

Or maybe, how meeting people, inevitably make me feel… I don’t know.

Even the usual jibes and put-downs by the group’s lad were put down by my sharp, bitchy, machine-gun like retorts.

Which pretty much, left them in awe.

I have a brainy side to me! *gasp*

VampTreSS could only stifle her laughters as I did so.

***

We sat around till it was late, before finally calling it a day.

The agitation stayed.

Perhaps, I should play Battlefield when I am still PMS-sy.

It makes me more aggressive and gung-ho than I really need to.

Muahahahaha.

I don’t know.

Really.

I don’t know.

***

I am very sad. (Trust me, it’s very much the hormones speaking)

It’s raining so much, and I had wanted to do my laundry today.

So, someone should buy me a dryer for my clothes instead.

I wanted to scrub my toilet bowl and vacuum the floor, and give it a nice, wet coat of dettol.

But! The rain!

It makes me lazy!

Uhm, yah.

So that gives me ample reason to adjourn those chores till… till…

When the sun shines.

For now, I shall enjoy my home-delivery of dinner(breakfast or lunch, however way you see it), courtesy of loving dad.

The world is not that gloomy, isn’t it?

Hello all you mortals out there who have yet to be drowned by the unceasing treacherous rain out there.

I have a very important favour to ask of.

The brilliant babe, Denise, is taking part in a pageant organised by her college, and voting has started!

Please go to Kooshi’s website HERE and sign yourself up for an account.

You will then get to see girlies in sexy lingerie nightdresses(look beyond the hassles of signing up!), looking smothering and absolutely yummy!

Click on Denise Er, the first candidate in the series of pictures, and you’re done!

She has been a fabulous pal and my usual mahjong kaki, and I really do think she deserves to win.

I have friends who took part in pageant before who told me about the dogmatism that surrounds such game in the name of beauty.

Bias and favouritism are what we don’t get to see, and sometimes, I really wonder why are they called beauty pageant? Perhaps because they bring out the true ugliness of female species, and we thus see what true beauty is?

Then again, sadly, sometimes the not so beautiful ones(yes, in terms of looks AND character) would be rigged to win, and it has become a form of entertain for girls to bitch, and guys to ogle(and when it fails their expectations, woohoo, they bitch even more furiously than we do!) at the expense of females.

Ah well.

So!

We should vote for people who deserve it, and not because some photographer prefer this who and who to that who and who, or which judge had slept with who and who and being spurned by that who and who.

So easy, yuh?

So, pleaseeeeeeee, just cast a vote, alright?

HERE!

Thanks everyone!