Mumble Jumble

One minute, it was all hope and exhilaration. The next, it turned fear and doubt.

And the mind was just spent for the rest of the entire day flitting between the two, it's no wonder it's all jumbled up now.

But it's all also such an oh-so-familiar feeling.

So, I should really just learn to trust and put all my faith in my gut this time. 'Cept the gut has been feeling a little bloated from the $26 Sakura buffet dinner at Tampines Safra. Yumms.


Oh, and if, say, a bomb had been dropped right smack upon Jiak Kim Street tonight, we womenfolk might've gotten that dream 18-month maternity leave - during which ample time we could easily repeat the entire procreation cycle.

And then, after your seventh kid, you could actually plan to quit and go into early retirement.

If a bomb had been dropped upon Jiak Kim Street tonight, I swear to my god, I would do just that.

So when's the next public holiday that falls on Thursday again?

Bubbles

Possibly the one who loves me the most.

The Polkadotted Bestie: Don't forget you have to be there for me and Marcus.
ME Inc.: =)
ME Inc.: so how would that work out if auntie fatmama goes to hk?
The Polkadotted Bestie: That's ok, you just make sure you are happy and taking care of yourself. That way, I can still find the bubbly HJ whenever I need.
ME Inc.: =) okie babe... that's quite something you just said.
ME Inc.: i need to find my bubbles again.
The Polkadotted Bestie: You are getting some back already, if not all.
The Polkadotted Bestie: Don't worry, you are quite there.

I never knew it, till you told me, babe. :)

Just another one I love to bits.

You take up the thumb on my handful of loves.

Party of Sorts

Miss Party Organizer was just itching to organize another party.

So anything went. Even if it was as lame an excuse as "a celebration of the end of the school semester and the start of the school holidays".

No underaged guests in the list, so I stuck to my choice of beverage. :)

Blessed

When was the last time you told your best loved friends you appreciated their company, after just another usual night's out?

I just did. :)

As unnecessary as it might have sounded, I just felt I've never been as delighted to be able to spend some time with them in this crazy world we're living in now.

I miss everyone, I love them and I thank my god they love me enough too. And if I don't tell them now, I don't know when else I should.

Headlamps

Erm, ok. Now I've got them ugly headlamps. :/

And sorry, no relevant picture!



Meanwhile... Ouch ouch ouch ouch OUCH!

Back!

It's been a while. Since I've stopped talking here.

Well, for one, I find that there's been nothing much for me to talk about. Whatever the reason may be.

And for two, I have been so fucking caught up with the other form of writing and mother-henning, I have neither time nor energy to really think about what I am really thinking about.

In short, I have been feeling so much like a disciplinarian - or a premature mother of 18-year-olds, as I'd have much preferred to put it - I just want to get the work done and go to bed. A rarity in my real life, these days.


And I will not fucking lie to my own blog.

The loneliness I've felt over the past week has brought a certain déjà vu to my life.

And it has only made me more appreciative of ME.


So after the weekend of non-stop slogging, which resulted in me giving up a beautiful Sunday sun, I treated myself to a wonderful afternoon delight today at the beach.

Well, the sun wasn't as fantastic, but still, I've got a sunburnt fattummy now. :)

The Trouble-making Outlier

Sasy: suppose one day.....
Sasy: i tell u, i would soon meet an alien or aliens from another planet
Sasy: and i think i might be spending all my time with the aliens instead of my friends....
Sasy: would u, as a friend, ask me: why do u think of spending all ur time with things u never met?
Sasy: than pple like me who's been around?
ME Inc.: erm no that won't be my question
Sasy: or u will ask me if the aliens are handsome?
Sasy: =)
ME Inc.: no
ME Inc.: but that will come later, after i get the first couple of questions sorted out.

*****

If I really met a couple of aliens, maybe they won't be able to tell me apart from the human beings. They might even ask me for directions around.

If I really met a couple of aliens, I'd surely spend all my time hanging out with them. If I don't feel at home with the human beings around me, I'd like to give these strange dudes a try.

If I really met a couple of aliens, I would surely ask them. If they could bring me home with them.

Wee Wee

"Hey. Wee's back. You wanna see him tonight?" Stunned silence.

"You'd better be nicer to me, if you wanna find out more about him..." Rolled eyes.

And the taunting continued for weeks, though it was more like, I suspect, a poorly masked pretext to ask me out.

Nonetheless, things came to a head on Sunday.

Dude: Hey, send me to Borders later.
ME: ?!?! Why should I?
Dude: 'Cos I bought you that 100plus.
ME: No. NO way. It's out of the way.
Dude: Please lah.
ME: NO.
Dude: I don't care.
ME: NO.

... And it went on through lunch. Until, though I was rather irritated by his badgering, I decided I had to be me. But before I could say "ok"...

Dude: Don't like that lah. Hey, if you send me there, I'll give you one piece of information about Wee that you'd be pleased to know.

That smirk on his face was enough to make me want to strangle him and send his carcass down to Kallang River instead.

But all I thought was, Ok idiot, let's see what good shit you're gonna give me.


Wee Wee was probably the only boy I ever had the hugest crush on. Of course, I had been only seventeen then. But to me then, after nursing a heartbreak for a year, Wee Wee was the cutest thing I'd ever seen on earth. That was, of course, before Piper came into my life. (Momma loves you, babe.)

I had set my eyes on him in the first week of school then. Together with many other hundreds pairs of eyes. Without a doubt, Wee Wee was the orientation group leader from the student council every other girl was talking about.

But Wee Wee was one shy, laid-back boy who shunned all unnecessary attention. Being obviously embarrassed by all the unwanted amorous attention from the juniors, he sank into a low profile after the orientation ended and, other than playing his favorite sport in the afternoons, he would be hanging out with his scouts boys playing carrom in the canteen after the coast was clear.

And Wee Wee just happened to be in the boys basketball team.

So I thought I must've been rather lucky then. To be able to see Wee Wee on those precious days when the boys and the girls trained on the same days. I think I surprise myself now, how quiet and shy I had been. Never a hint, never a chat, never a single move, I was so darned good at masking my adoration, and at sneaking sly looks at the boy. And all this while, I was completely blind to Paul the "gorgeous hunky-dory polo dude" who was hot at my heels, and who would single-handedly create a ruckus in the canteen everytime he approached me.

To the lovelorn me, there was only one boy I could see in my eyes.

Then came along the brown-polkadotted girl who would become my best friend almost instantly. And for the longest time, she would remain the only other soul on earth who knew of my secret adoration. Never once would she try to play matchmaker, but she would always be there with all ears pried to listen to my growing affections.

And then it started one fine day when Wee Wee finally saw me. The chats started first, rather frivolous teasing that usually left me dumbfounded. And they were always in front of the boys. Then the secret looks that I thought I noticed. And then it was the awkwardness.

Wee Wee stopped talking to me whenever we were alone. But then came the nightly phone-calls. And the handwritten letters that landed in my letterbox. The cards. The poems. And that pencil-sketched portrait of me that he carefully framed and presented to me on my 17th birthday. There were never confessions of feelings, but I thought everything was subtlely heartfelt.

Still, in school, we were like strangers. Maybe, just ECA acquaintances.

Soon, the year passed. Wee Wee got enlisted. And he fell into depression.

I never got to see Wee Wee in school everyday anymore, but he was still all I could see. The phone-calls were now limited to Saturday nights only. But then, there were the ritualistic Sunday ball sessions with all the army boys. I remember with fondness now, how we would climb over the school gate every Sunday morning, just to relive the good ol' days on the court.

Despite all the activities, Wee Wee sank deeper and deeper into depression. He would call and I would know how the army devastated him totally. He started writing letters to me from camp. And the mutuality of affections grew stronger and stronger - to me, at least. But nary a word was ever said.

The more depressed he became, the more he needed me but refused to admit, the more frustrated I grew.

And then, over time, things just faded away. And I kept all his letters and cards in a shoebox, and stowed them away in the cardboard. For a long time to come, I hated spring-cleaning because that shoebox would totally mar my mood.

Wee Wee left for New York after he was finally discharged from the army. He never came back since. And I have never seen him since.

Years on, when I was blissfully in love with a man I thought I was going to have babies and grow old with, I would still spend an hour looking through the contents in that shoebox during spring-cleaning time. I never told the man about Wee Wee, but there is just some stuff tucked deep in one corner of your heart you can never explain to someone else.


The irritating one duped me into giving him a free ride to Borders, anyway.

But today, out of guilt perhaps, he sent a sheepish message to me over the phone: Anyway he is in Singapore until August.


There is no more flutter in my heart.

Though I would think back of those lovelorn days that happened thirteen years ago and smile at the memory, there is no more fantasy playing in my head.

And it scares me to an extent. This boy was something I thought I really loved and really wanted then. But today, the feeling's gone. And if I were to meet some boy today I really love and really want for the rest of my life, would I still feel the same thirteen years on?

I don't think about Wee Wee the cute boy now, though I think he still can't be anywhere far from being cute. Once in a while, some things, like the irritating one, might provoke those memories. But they remain just as that.

I do think, though, that there will always remain a regret in me that will follow me to my grave. That I never pursued what I had really wanted hard enough then.


So this is me now. And this is how I will live.

When I know I want something, I will pursue it.

But when I decide I don't want it anymore, that it's not meant for me, I will completely drop it.

I just don't want no more regret in my life.

Memories are sweet. But memories with open endings aren't.

Donald's Four

It's Donald's fourth birthday.

And Percy has yet to buy him a present. But Percy already has something in mind.

A pair of sneakers. And then Percy is going to transform Donald into one of 'em cute lil' triathletes. The ball can come later.



I am very positive, that at least Donald loves me.


Percy: Ciaran!
Donald: I am not Ciaran. I am Dor-nald.
Percy: So where's my Ciaran? What have you done to my Ciaran?
(Donald looks left and right and left and right around himself, looking for an answer. And Gracie the silly one trots by.)
Donald: (pointing at the poor dog) That's Ciaran.

=/ Of all my wonderful traits, he has to pick up my cuteness.

Sikuai

Yes, if it's a pretty picture like this that makes you feel like you could drown in the clear blue waters just by staring at it hard enough, blow it up by all means.



Incidentally, this taunting beauty popped up in my mailbox just a day after Sunday. Hmm.

I would've liked to put this on the wallpaper, but my dog would kill me.

Sunday

Today's exactly that kinda day that makes you wish every day were a Sunday.

I jumped out of bed very late (thanks to yet another sleep-disturbing horrid dream) and wobbled out of the house with the barang in a groggy state.

But the beautiful day that met me perked me up immediately. Of course, with some help from kopi-o.

It was another two hours under the sun, but I'm getting used to the glaring sun and I am beginning to shush those silly dudes on the court. Now, everyone wants me on their team - ha! (Once again, this is my blog and so I shall be entitled to say whatever I think.)



A quick-but-awfully-awesome lunch of lor bee hoon later, I was emotionally blackmailed into sending the silly dude to town. Why it was an emotional blackmail is another story, and I must say it got me really upset when I realized I was tricked.

So I got home with my now-smelly barang, feeling angry and all, and I was about to just shower and snuggle up in bed for the rest of the afternoon, when I thought I heard the beautiful skies beckoning to me.

Come, Fatmama. Come out and bask in my warmth.

I looked up at the skies, thought it was indeed too blue to be true, and decided I shouldn't just swear at the next gloomy day - which could well be tomorrow. So, without sparing much else thought, I changed into the bikini, packed the fresh barang into the bag and headed out again.

Another two hours under the merciless sun, and this time with a different mission. I just had to try ridding of those fugly tan lines.

I haven't felt such peace and bliss by myself in a long while. And I had many, many pages of the book read. I haven't felt this good in a long while.




When the alarm rang at half-past-five, I swiped the sand off my legs, put on the clothes, and drove on to my next balling session. Which was absolutely a killer, at the end of another two hours.

I am so pooooooofed now.

But I think I deserve my whites now. And a gay show coming up. :)




If only tomorrow were Sunday again.

I'd gladly do it all over again. After a good night's rest, that is.


If only everyday were Sunday for us.

I'd gladly do it all over again. No doubt.



P.S.: I think the last picture deserves to be one of them MSN default pictures. Don't you?

"She looks more like you than you"

Dingaling: yo yo yo
Dingaling: heyyyy
Dingaling: ur blog pic u look so adult and mature...
Dingaling: like got one lil boy u holding in ur hand that is out of the picture
ME Inc: hmm??
ME Inc: the latest one?
ME Inc: wahahaha
Dingaling: yaaaaaa

Ok, babe. I get you.

No more brown polkadots and auntie buns for me.

This one is for you. Better?

Scary Scary

It was an impromptu one.

I was heading that area to pick up some printed tees on a last-minute decision, and I thought, what better time to do it?

So I sent a message just half an hour before, and I got an "Ok".


For all these years that I've always thought we have this uncanny bond between us since the day we first met, today was the epitome, and today we totally freaked ourselves out.

Imagine this, the first unanimous reaction we both broke into the minute we met:

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!

We were sooo brown-polkadotted.




It had been a quickie, no doubt.

But quickies are always the most enjoyable. :)

Nipped

Ok, this is bad. Like really bad.

After just one pathetic night of sweet dreams, the usual came back to taunt last night.


It wasn't just traumatizing. It was totally horrifying.

Misadventures. Unpleasant incidents. Horseshoe crabs. Or some creepy crawly creatures that looked like them, maybe a tad more silvery-looking.

They were all over the ground, trying to take a nip at me. I was desperately climbing up some whatever, not so much because I fear death, but because I really hate being nipped, and if I had wanted to die, it'd better not be a case of being nipped to death by some idiotic creepy crawlies. Rather unglam, and I'd end up in some weird-news-around-the-world web site.


So there must be something I did wrong yesterday to warrant such punishment by horrid dreams again.

Should I not have gone for that dinner date?

Should I not have read a fiction book before I slept?

Should I not have even attempted to sleep early?

Yes, I think that must be it. If I sleep early, it means I have more sleep time. Which only translates to MORE DREAM TIME. So instead of having just one good dream, I end up having more time for two bad ones.

Yes, it does make sense to me.




But why horseshoe crabs?

I don't know, but maybe it's because the word "Hong Kong" has been hanging on every other person's lips!

Urgh! =/

The Wake-up Call

... that wasn't really a call.

It came as a text over the cell instead. Ironically, from that place miles away, where we had one of the best times of our lives.


"You seem to have lost the spirit, or is it because I lost touch with you babes."


Thanks for pulling me back, girl.

Can't wait for you to come back quick. :)

Bad Weather Good Mood

Yeppers!

I swam.

I can't pick up my cheque, anyway.

I got to the bank.

Heck, I got to my car, of course.

And I'm no longer running on low battery, 'cause I'm now snuggled in Office Number Two!


No, the weather didn't turn better.

I just snuck in when I thought the skies were taking a quick time-out.


It's all about taking chances, being opportunistic, tweaking plans, sticking to your guns. Life is.

I suddenly remembered. :)

My Dream Loft

I think I've had the best dream I ever had in a long while.

Well, not that it's anywhere true to real life, but for one, at least it didn't traumatize me, it didn't upset me, it didn't wake me up with a "Was it real? Did it happen? Was I dreaming? What if it's true?" question, cold sweat rolling down my pulsating forehead. (Okay, okay, the last bit was just added in for pure illustrative and dramatic effect.)

Wait a minute. I'm lying.

I did wake up asking myself, Was it real? Did it happen? Was I dreaming? What if it's true? But today, it was with a huge silly grin on my face, and I didn't quite really get out of bed from that dream.


So I discovered a secret passageway in my uncle's old apartment that led to a huge-ass compound, four-storeys worth of humongous space and rooms - all left empty, 'cause he didn't know what to do with them.

He had a stockroom on the ground level, where he kept all his kitchen stocks and household utilities, and it was so huge-ass it looked exactly like a mini-supermarket. Rows and rows of shelves with everything, anything. He just missed out on the carts and the check-out counters. I loved that supermarket-in-a-house idea.

Elsewhere in the secret house, there were just long, dark stairways and more empty rooms. It was an open concept, there were few walls and there were even no handrails on the staircases. I treaded my way up one long flight of stairs to the top, and it was right there that I fell in love.

It was a loft. Exactly the kind I've always imagined having on my own.

I asked the uncle if I could have the space.

"Yeah of course. It's empty, anyway."

I almost fainted.

But I woke up instead.


Okay, it really has to be just a dream.

I shall find out this weekend.

Void-deck Day!

Bleh.

I can't swim.

I can't pick up my cheque.

I can't get to the bank.

I can't even get to the car.

My battery's running low.

But I must say, I'm loving M1 tons.

I shall declare today, "Void-deck Day".

Wednesday!

And because I absolutely crashed out over the weekend, I've had two almost sleepless nights since, and a whole lot of writing, writing, writing, writing, writing...

I'm perpetually too caught up in a jumble of words, is how I'd like to tell people these days for not making their dinner dates.

And yes, indeed. I was caught up in a sudden flurry of words over the past couple of days. There were words written, words asked, words said, words thought of. Questions asked, answers given, doubts clarified.

And then, there was the laughter again.

So despite the desperate lack of sleep, which had me walking in zig-zags for a moment yesterday, I am feeling a tad happy today. For one, the monkey's finally getting back to her nonsensical antics in front of the camera. Two, I don't have to gush about fast breaks and three-point plays for a while - at least, I hope.

Three, my chicks love me - erm, at least, I imagine.

Four, I am finally getting some vocal itch soothed.

Five, I have an EXTRA BIG HUG waiting for me tonight!

And most of all, it's Wednesday. It's Wednesday!




Little packets of happiness are what matter to me most now.

Come what may.

"How's HK?"

"You didn't do wrong or bad. It just wasn't it."

I don't know too. Maybe.


I miss my brood. Together as a brood.

The Missing One

sasyz: I give u a big big hug tmr
ME Inc.: =/
ME Inc.: i miss u
sasyz: MISS me got EXTRA BIG HUG

I wish everyone I miss would give me an extra big hug too.

Cheep-Cheepskate

I love pleasant surprises over the email.

I is also loving my chicks deep deep. :)

Bitch

Once again, I really wish I were a dog.

'Cos life should really, really be much simpler then.

No word is needed. Just a lick, or a growl would do.

Uh-oh

I really, really have this really, really bad feeling about my baby.

First, it's the funny cranking noises again, and then...



Please be good to me, God. I'll be good, I promise.

Of Tolstoy and Tom Yum Goong

I got a lot more shut-eye this weekend than I ever had, and it's high time I did so. I think I should start being nicer to myself.

But I couldn't really quite help it this weekend.

Four days of sweating it out, culminating in that gruesome session under the sun. I am suddenly looking like some P.E. teacher, though I'd like to think I give off vibes of a beach babe. But I'm also hobbling with a sore ankle and a loose knee, and I'm all hunched like a hei bi.

Yes, yes, that's the word: hei bi. All dried and dark and feeling really, really small.

And then, there's also the refusal to look into the computer screen. Barely five minutes of staring into the luminescence, and I just wanted to slump back into the pillows behind me. And then, voom! I'd drifted away.

And the feeling's so good, I'd forgotten all about it.

I dragged my groggy self out of bed at six Saturday evening, and headed out for a groggy thirty minutes on the road. Bad idea, actually. But it got the blood pumping, and the stomach growling. So I took my sweet time, showered and dressed up, and headed out to grab some cheap dinner and find some peace in my haven.

It's been a while, I told myself, so I allowed myself a treat.

820 pages for only twenty-four bucks. Yes, I'm mad but hey, it's a good deal, isn't it?

Then, the Sunday's been spent at that humongous-but-rather-boring mall with Momma (after a nap, of course) for a couple of hours. And that's when, after a rather mediocre Momsy's Day dinner of tom-yum noodles, I finally stumbled upon Page One which absolutely made up for it. And that's when I decided maybe that place wasn't that boring after all.

I love books. It's not so much about reading them, sometimes. It's about owning them, smelling the pages, fingering the crisp covers, admiring the fonts.

In another dreamy world of mine, I'd be running a tiny little bookstore - just like The Shop Around The Corner Meg Ryan ran in You've Got Mail. I'd be that kooky owner who has no qualm telling stories to kids or letting you sit there with your computer, provided you'd allow me some chat time.

*Snap*

Anyways, 820 pages. When will I get down to that?



*****

"Oh. You're in town alone? Not with boyfriend? Where's your boyfriend? No boyfriend? How can?!"

I hate men who ask "check-out" questions. That's so uncool.

And says who, I don't have a boyfriend?!

Overroughaged

Do you reckon you'd get greenish, yucky diarrhoea from too much Weet-bix and soya milk?

I don't know, it sounds ridiculous to me too. But that's the only thing I can possibly put the blame on.

=/

Friday

I almost died in the pool today.

You would've too, if you had slept for only four hours, seen stars the whole day, eaten only two cereal bars, and then tried to tackle twenty laps.

No, I'm not seeing anyone tonight.

I am only seeing more stars.

*****

It's Friday again. It only means to me now it's just another week gone by.

How many more must I wait? How many more months?

Maybe I shouldn't even be.

*****

"Wanna go holiday?"

Hmm.

*****

There's this blankness inside me that I've been trying to fill with other stuff.

Alpha-monkey

So, this 'guy' left me a message for all to see.

guy: ms cheng, u very pretty (:

Aiyooo... so paiseh. And all the other boys are teasing the monkey now.

Tell me. Tell me how can I not fall in love with all these little monkeys?

I am so loving this ego trip I've been taking a ride on.


But because of you sweet-tongued boys, I have stayed up this late to finish the damn story. Another one to go.

Three hours later. Not now. :/

Peaceful

It is such a beautiful morning.

Nothing but blue skies, crisp clouds, and a strong breeze. Give me more of these, please.

"Private Number"

I have a newly-forged love-hate relationship with "Private Number".

There was once when it used to only bring butterflies to my tummy and make me glow.

These days, "Private Number" could come from everywhere, anywhere, yet it evades and frustrates the hell outta me. I miss it when I'm in the bathroom, out on a run, in the movie theatre, at a game. Or, even when I'm actually around when "Private Number" calls, the line goes dead the minute I pick it up.

I haven't spoken to "Private Number" for the longest time!

Who the fark is calling me?!

Urgh.

And why the hell do people like to call themselves "Private Number"?!

Shame Shame, Monkey!

I know. It's been a while.

But hey. The monkey's back!

And grabbing hold of little girls' trophy. Tsk tsk.

And Another One About Stupidity

Ooh, I just made up a new Fatmama quote.

To the people who worry that they are one of 'em stupid people in the world...

As long as there are always people who don't make more sense than you, you are not stupid.


Ooh. How's that, from the daft one?

The Little Talkative One

The little one turned out to be his true talkative self. In the movie theatre. So I suppose the brother deserved some smarty points for putting us all at the very back row - something I did scowl at in the beginning.

"Oh the man disappear!" (I think he did use that big word.)

"Shhh."

"Oh the woman angry with the man!"

"Shhh."

But it all happened, fortunately or not, before Sandman and Venom appeared. Then soon after, it was all silence like it should be, when the little one fell asleep.

Well into the night, except he woke up a few times crying.

I think it's them damned nightmares. I think Sandman and Venom terrorized him.


Well, I would cry too if Spidey told me he'd still prefer MJ. Bleh.

My Ex

The one thing about being a woman is that you get these few depressive days where you just start bloating up, you feel like all your weeks of efforts have just been negated, and you are absolutely convinced there is no more hope of getting back that ex-stomach.

Because of how hopeless you already feel, and because you can't jump into the pool anyway, and because you just feel so lumpy and dumpy and sluggish, you just start eating away, hoping to feel better. Then you start pulling out all those pictures from the Boracay and Phuket trips, where you had brought your ex(-stomach, that is) for a sun-filled beach holiday.

I can only thank my god that those depressive days last for only five - or even four, if I am really darned lucky.


So I finally jumped into the pool today again. 'Allelujah! :)

And for the sake of my ex, I'm not gonna let nothing get in my way.

Date

Yes, I am shameless to say this, but so what?

I have been waiting for my phone to beep, and for someone to ask me out on a movie date since last week. I am so dying to see Tobey in his spandex suit.

So when the phone text came today, of course I couldn't say 'no' to the one and only invitation so far.

And so what if it came from Bro and it is going to be a movie date with two old folks, two parents and one little talkative kiddo?

Sigh. I am desperate, no?

Summing Up

"Remember to eat your lunch ok."

The message came almost immediately after I told the dude I couldn't do lunch and I had to zip off to the indoor stadium after the game.

I haven't been this touched in a long while. :)


Tornadoes. Floods. Bombs. Car-crashes. Shuttlecocks. World number ones. New football champions. Parking fines. Tai-tai brunch. Baby Marcus. Articles and more articles. A pleasantly surprising phone-call. Then an even more pleasantly surprisingly phone-text. Opportunities dropping my way. A few compliments. A sleep in the car. A couple of misadventures. An irritating person. Old habits coming back. New friends. Old friends. Unwanted attention I keep getting. Wanted attention I never got.

Given the guilt-trip I'm taking now for writing on my own blog, that pretty much sums up my entire week.

Son

"Can I bring son out tomorrow?"

It is strange.

I call him 'son', in front of his mom. She calls him 'son' when she talks to me.

He is just like... my son.


I need a son.

© Fatmama

Photographer-writer Fatmama takes yet another feet (or rather, foot) shot during a time-out. © Fatmama


Oooh. I like the "© Fatmama".

Makes me look so pro.


The thing about being a blog-writer for work is that it makes me feel damn bad for writing on my own blog before my work is done.

Sigh.

Gingko'd

I think by tonight, I must have had some two hundred gingko nuts in my body. Maybe about half have been digested and pooped out.

It takes a whole lot of effort to shell those bloody nuts. I know, I used to do the deed. So, I cannot let other people's efforts go to waste.

Thanks, Ma!




Quick, quick! Someone ask me a question.

...

Hmm? What's that? What's my favorite food?

Hmm. I don't know. Tough one.

But one of them has got to be my Ma's soups.

Love has never tasted this savory.

Perk

I don't know for sure, but I want to think that regulars do enjoy perks.

Like a mountain of greenies and chinese crackers.

Glooms

When you were really poofed the night before, and you've had one of them funny-dreams-nights again, and you wake up with a stiff neck... to a dark, gloomy, rainy morning like today's, you'd really wish you didn't have to leave your baby in bed and drag your own ass, stiff neck and all, outta it.

:/

Conversation With An 18-Year-Old

I remember, when I was younger still in my schooling days, things were different with the adults then.

For one, we'd never tease the adults, we'd never be rude, we'd never take the liberty to be chummy.

And we would never talk like this...

the still frame; says: haha hello hello
ME Inc. says: you know who, yeah?
the still frame; says: the uh
the still frame; says: bimbo at the indoor stadium ah
ME Inc. says: wah!

Tsuk.

What ever happened to the good ol' respectful youth of yesterday?

Labor

Fourteen hours of labor, on Labor Day ironically.

This is worse than childbirth, so I said to Les.


Playing 'media' has its share of fun and laughter, coolness and excitement too.

Like, for example, if not for the stint today, I would otherwise probably never have the opportunity to check out just how cool the backstage changing room at the Indoor Stadium really is.



I am poofed.