Got this off LittleMissDrinkalot.

And what does my handwriting say about me?

It says I am a handful.

It says I am aggressive. (Meow… I really am not)

It says I am -gasp gasp gasp- sexually deprived.

It says I am sarcastic.

It says I have lotsa pride. Hell yah.

It says I am secretive.

It says I have secrets I don’t want to share with others. Shhh….. yes, I have a big secret on the bed, rather than in the closet.

It says I am investigative and creative.

It says I am planned(that’s so blardy untrue) have moderate esteem that is slightly high(Uh..).

And oh, it says I poke other people harder than I get poke. Hello?! I get poke more often in more ways than one, alright(sometimes, 2 or 3. Ahem!)?

I don’t like such tests, you know?

For a graphologist, the spacing on the page reflects the writer’s attitude toward their own world and relationship to things in his or her own space. If the inputted data was correct Scarlett has no white space or margins on a typical sheet of paper. Scarlett fills up every last inch on the top, right, left, and bottom. Hmmm. If this is true, then Scarlett has a very aggressive personality toward others and quite frankly lacks a bit of respect for the space and property of other people. I would be surprised if Scarlett just comes into someone’s home and helps herself to a drink in the refrigerator. This can be both an obnoxious personality trait and it can be assertive and effective in getting what you want. There isn’t much fear of getting in trouble here, Scarlett finds plenty of reasons to break the rules and get in trouble. (Okay, perhaps when she was younger, not anymore?) Basically, people with no margins are a handful.

Something is incomplete in Scarlett’s life. She feels frustration relating to her physical needs and desires. Somewhere in her life there is some disappointment, non-fulfillment, and interruption. This is very likely to relate to Scarlett’s sexual needs.

Scarlett is sarcastic. This is a defense mechanism designed to protect her ego when she feels hurt. She pokes people harder than she gets poked. These sarcastic remarks can be very funny. They can also be harsh, bitter, and caustic at the same time.

Scarlett is a practical person whose goals are planned, practical, and down to earth. This is typical of people with normal healthy self-esteem. She needs to visualize the end of a project before she starts. she finds joy in anticipation and planning. Notice that I said she plans everything she is going to do, that doesn’t necessarily mean things go as planned. Scarlett basically feels good about herself. She has a positive self-esteem which contributes to her success. She feels she has the ability to achieve anything she sets her mind to. However, she sets her goals using practicality– not too “out of reach”. She has enough self-confidence to leave a bad situation, yet, she will not take great risks, as they relate to her goals. A good esteem is one key to a happy life. Although there is room for improvement in the confidence catagery, her self-perception is better than average.

In reference to Scarlett’s mental abilities, she has a very investigating and creating mind. She investigates projects rapidly because she is curious about many things. She gets involved in many projects that seem good at the beginning, but she soon must slow down and look at all the angles. She probably gets too many things going at once. When Scarlett slows down, then she becomes more creative than before. Since it takes time to be creative, she must slow down to do it. She then decides what projects she has time to finish. Thus she finishes at a slower pace than when she started the project. She has the best of two kinds of minds. One is the quick investigating mind. The other is the creative mind. Her mind thinks quick and rapidly in the investigative mode. She can learn quicker, investigate more, and think faster. Scarlett can then switch into her low gear. When she is in the slower mode, she can be creative, remember longer and stack facts in a logical manner. She is more logical this way and can climb mental mountains with a much better grip.

Scarlett is secretive. She has secrets which she does not wish to share with others. She intentionally conceals things about herself. She has a private side that she intends to keep that way, especially concerning certain events in her past.

Scarlett will demand respect and will expect others to treat her with honor and dignity. Scarlett believes in her ideas and will expect other people to also respect them. She has a lot of pride.

Scarlett is a very emotional person with a broad range of emotions from the highest highs to the lowest lows. She feels emotional situations very strongly. She’ll flash to the very peaks of elation, sweeping everything before her. Then, for some reason unknown to herself, she will burn out emotionally. These mood swings can be very disturbing to her. Sometimes, she feels that she can no longer produce anything. But, after given some time alone to “recharge her emotional batteries“, she will spring back into action. Because Scarlett feels situations intensely, she relates easily to others’ problems. If she is not careful, when she comes into contact with someone who is in a depressed frame of mind, she will also suffer the same emotions and change moods. Scarlett reacts impulsively, without much thought before hand. She may plan everything in detail before she even begins, then do it completely different when the time comes to carry it through. Scarlett has a strong need for affection. She thrives on touching and being touched. Scarlett desires being told that she is loved, every day. She enjoys being the center of attention. She loves attention, sometimes she even retells stories that got her attention earlier. Scarlett has the possibility of being a actor or natural born salesperson, simply because she relates so well to other people. She likes expressing how she feels, what she is doing, and what she plans to do. She is a people person. She will work most efficiently in a people orientated job as opposed to a job working alone on an assembly line (that would drive her insane.)

People that write their letters in an average height and average size are moderate in their ability to interact socially. According to the data input, Scarlett doesn’t write too large or too small, indicating a balanced ability to be social and interact with others.

Woohoo. And now, I am back to watching my American Idol repeat telecast on the cable.

Though I had tried hard to retune my body clock back to normal by waking at 1pm, after 8 hours of sleep today……

The end results failed badly when I napped at 3.30pm, only to find it was 8.30pm when I woke up.

You see, I was rolling in pain, and was terribly anaemic to do anything else, besides hogging the phone for a couple of hours with SBB, and drifted back to sleep.

Anything else like heading out to get myself promoted.

Had plans to head back to Johor to have dinner with Mum, but she declined the offer cos she didn’t want me to make my way back all by myself.

Thoughts suffice, she said.

I wished her happy birthday, before she thanked me.

Odd, but nice.

I am bored with my blog. I feel like shifting it elsewhere.

I am bored with my hair.

But SBB forbade me to cut it short nor shave it bald cos he insisted he is not done with me yet, and I am not allowed to.

Bleah. Selfish prick.

‘But the previous one doesn’t have long hair!’

‘Yah! Look how long she lasted!’

‘But that’s not the reason why she didn’t last.’

‘Erm…. Yah… but oh well, no you can’t, cos I say so *add in cheeky laughs here*.’

So. Oh well.

And he threatened to upload video clips of ours and send it to GeekGeek kill me many many times when we play Battlefield together the next time, dothingstoographictobementionedhere, and even more outrageously, get into a jeep with many people in it when I am in a tank, and drive them into me, so I would get negative points for multiple teamkills.

The audacity! The horror!

So, I shall have long hair for a while more.

By the way, I shall now go swoon over David Radford(oh man, 17!), Kevin Covais(Gosh! 16!), Will Makar (yet another 16!) and Taylor Hicks!

They make me oh-so.. *beep* *toot* *Arrrrr Grrrrr….* Roar!

Someone lock this paedophile here up, will ya?

But who says I am only in for younger chaps? Ace Young is of my age, and he is so freaking sexyyyyyyyyyyy!

Let’s just say I am not just drooling from the sides of my lips.

Why oh why do they not have such 16 years-old locally?

Ah, just as well, before I prowl and make the streets unsafe for them.

Hubba hubba! Come to momma!

It doesn’t make sense when you feel out of sorts and resent having lunch all by yourself.

You go all out to search for one, and are willing to head all the way to town just for lunch.

Like I did. I met up with Nick at Sim Lim Square, and had a short lunch with him from 1.30pm to 2.30pm.

Well, at least I got myself a lunch mate.

It doesn’t make sense when you feel easily agitated when you would have taken things in your stride usually.

Like I did. After I had walked from Sim Lim Square to ParkLane, I was disappointed to find the place we used to play Battlefield 2 has no Special Forces, nor did it get the patch, and thus, I was unable to play.

I stood up and left only after 10 minutes. The only consolation is, I wasn’t charged for it.

It doesn’t make sense when your enthusiasm runs out fast, with abundance of the dreaded lethargy when playing your favourite game, something you had been looking forward to.

Like I did. Despite the intense craving, a 3-hours game after I had located another LAN gaming shop at the basement with the patch and works, I was swift to feel stifled by the below-expectation performance of so-near-yet-so-far-Sergeant-ScarlettTing.

To the point that I just simply didn’t feel like continuing though I did have some time to spare.

But it does make sense that you feel incredibly angry with yourself, after you lose a piece of frequently-worn top, which you carry around to keep yourself warm, after you allow it to hang loosely from your bag.

Stupid fool.

It doesn’t make sense that you feel somewhat annoyed with the presence of someone you adore hanging out with. You feel something about him repels you, or that you are paranoid that he finds you repulsive.

Like I did.

SBB had joined me for gaming for a short while from a quarter past 4, and 2 hours forth.

I don’t feel like saying anything, and I don’t know what to say. My thoughts were like there, but not there.

It doesn’t make sense that the Italian lessons that so intrigue you, make you wish that you could get the hell out of the classroom, after you feel like a complete fool with those difficulties.

Like I did. I didn’t enjoy the class at all, and I couldn’t concentrate. I just wanted it to end, as soon as possible.

It doesn’t make sense that you didn’t want to be home, yet you don’t really want to be out merrying.

Like I did. I was dying to get home, yet I was too reluctant too. I ended up roaming on the streets outside United Square, not knowing what to do, where to go.

It doesn’t make sense that you wanted to eat dinner, yet don’t want to have it alone. Yet, the reluctance of making the long dreaded journey home, makes you do so.

Like I did. When I sat down at McDees for a McSpicy meal I so craved for, after Dad couldn’t join me for dinner.

It doesn’t make sense that you call up anyone and everyone, just to find someone to have a fag break with, regardless where they are.

Like I did. I called up a few people to ask them where they were, and asked if they would want to meet up nearby their place to sit down for a quick fag before I head home.

It doesn’t make sense that I just wish to have people around me for the whole of today, yet I feel terribly anti-social to be part of a gathering.

Like I did.

I don’t usually actively look for company, but I did.

But it sure was coincidental. I called Nick up and he was on his way out, to Novena, which was just minutes of walk away.

It doesn’t make sense that you are walking aimlessly on the streets, along the road, and as you scroll through your phone list, you break down and sob, for no whatsoever reasons.

Like I did, when I was looking for people to keep me on the phone, outside United Square, after the MP3 player suddenly blasted, ‘I walk a lonely road…’

It doesn’t make sense that your friends are already at a nearby joint 100 meters away, and you decided to head to somewhere quiet, dark and deserted to sit down for a fag by yourself, sulk all alone, shed a few tears, psyche yourself up to be your usual self, before you join them slightly later.

Like I did. When I stopped by the Revenue House to sit in the chilly wind, looking the world floated by, tainted by the ghosts from the cigarette.

It doesn’t make sense that you feel like going away when you hear some other friends are joining.

Like I did.

It doesn’t make sense that it took you 2 delayed seconds before you realise you are burnt.

Like I did.

I was so consumed by the sudden grounchiness that as I was throwing the strap of my bag over my shoulder, my exaggerated action caused my right hand, with a litted ciggie, to stub it into my left arm, near the fold of my elbow.

And I didn’t even realise it, and the butt stayed there for an extra 2 seconds as I tried to throw my stuffs back into my bag with my left hand.

Ouch.

With my such ‘deranged’ state of mind, it could have easily been mistaken as an intentional act.

I laughed at the irony of it.

Quaintly, it shook me up a little, and sobered me up. I didn’t feel that much detachment from the reality thereafter.

Tsk tsk. Pain does work.

It doesn’t make sense that you don’t even bother to put on a social self, and allow the silence to bug your friends.

Like I did. Kelvin couldn’t stop mocking about the change and asked why was I unusually quiet, which I wasn’t quite listening to since I was engrossed with my magazine.

It doesn’t make sense that you couldn’t wait to leave when you are starting to enjoy your company.

Like I did. When Dad picked me up from Novena at 11pm, I was just starting to warm up to the group, yet a part of me just wanted to get away.

It doesn’t make sense that you have an incessant urge just to stay home, undisturbed for the next couple of days, that you buy yourself VCDs from the petrol kiosk so you would have a reason to excuse yourself from everyone.

Like I did.

It doesn’t make sense that you suddenly yearn to be close to someone you would rather stay far away from.

Like I did.

Happy birthday, Mum. Thursday is your day.

Everything just doesn’t make sense for today.

I dozed off at 1.30am. And felt better when I was woken up at 2.30am when SBB called.

It doesn’t make sense when you are tired, yet there was great reluctance to go back to sleep.

Like I did.

Thus, I watched CSI: Miami, drooled over David Curiso, treated myself to an ice-cream cone, and got myself blogging despite not having enough sleep.

***

It was then, 3am.

The contractions in the tummy was unmistakenable.

And woohoo, everything DOES blardy make sense now.

Yay! I am not crazy.

I was just, oh well, PMS-sy.

You see, once it flows, phew, it bled insanity with it.

I just have to grit my teeth through the last phase of the month and bear with the mess, the iron deficiency, and gee, the rolling around the bed in pain like what I am going to do now.

What joy! Of being a female.