People

sasyz: nobody needs anybody
ME Inc.: actually
ME Inc.: everybody needs somebody


It has been a week of contradictions.

A week of needing somebody, yet choosing not to need anybody.

A week of wanting to scream and yell and cry sometimes, yet choosing to sit and smile and wait and wait and wait.

And everything turned out pretty fine, I am rather glad I have stuck by the torturous patience. Because like they say, good things come to those who wait.


For one, I ended up being surrounded by people. Mostly people I had chosen to lose touch with when I holed up in my shell, simply because sometimes it is rather painful talking to people when you have to pretend you're still the same old you.

There is the dude who obviously treats me as the de facto go-to friend when he quit his job and had no one to spend time with in the afternoons. So I ended up having countless coffee sessions with him, as he sat stoning while watching me work on my computer.

There is the Hanny boy who finally chugged a beer with me, and who turned saviour when I got dumped on a date, and who said I am unique (but tell me something else new, Hanny).

There is of course my babelicious neighbor, who did the rather unglam la-kopi thing at the kopitiam amidst all the chee-ko-pehs again. Really, really. Nothing beats a cheap kopi session with a babe in the midst of a peaceful HDB neighborhood. Oh, and this time, it was brekkie with the soft-boiled eggs. Yummers.

Then there are the Swoosh'd babes. With the babies. And my 'son'. The bitching, the crapping, the eating, the everything.

There is the Pi chick who totally cracked me up when she called me at 10 on Saturday night, to say she was going bowling - alone. And asked if I had wanted to join her. We ended up having kopi at the prata shop.

And then, there is my Sasy chick. Who hugged and kissed and hugged and kissed and hugged and kissed me non-stop. Rather embarrassing in the middle of the sake bar, but I obliged. Because, let me see... it's been maybe two or three weeks since we last met.

Then, there is my bestie. The one who has never left my side. The one who I still think probably loves me the best. The one whom I am going to leave behind, but hey babe, you have just got to get on MSN. For me.

Most of all, there is my 'son'. Whom I spent the entire weekend with, 'cheonging' three parties together. He's happy because I brought him to where happiness reigns, and so I am happy too. He kisses me more now, to the extent he's literally kissing my arse. He spells my name when he sees me now: "G-U-G-U!!" He single-handedly melts me into a puddle.

And then, there was the silence which was finally broken. The painful silence, but the blissful chat. Maybe. Maybe we do bond like glue.


People come and they go.

Times spent like these come and they go too soon too.

Maybe they would be just "one of those times". Maybe not.

But I just feel thankful for all the people around me. And I especially thank those who love me for the 'me' I am trying so hard to stick to.


When you want to go, when you want to throw me away, go ahead.

Maybe you just need someone else. Just not me.

"... I've been rather numb..."

How do you explain 'chemistry' to a Masters graduate of Chemical Engineering?

That there is no spontaneous combustion of the passionate kind? That there is no fiery spark from the start?

I couldn't, so I didn't.

I just blamed myself.


Major rut? Wee?

No. Just my life.

Re-evaluation?

These stupid horoscopes will be the death of me.

My archaeologist buddy Frank is of course a devotee of the theory of evolution, but he likes to have fun being blasphemous about some of its conclusion. Recently he told me, for instance, that all the ancient bones that have ever been found and used to deduce the course of human evolution, from homo habilis to homo sapiens, would fit in the back of a pick-up truck. "Pretty slim evidence for ideas that purport to explain millions of years of history, eh?" he said mischievously. Can you identify a comparable situation in your life, Libra? Is there a fundamental assumption you're loyal to even though the data that prove it are scanty? This is a good time to gather more information and re-evaluate your assumptions.

What the fuck?

It's a good thing I never really believe in horoscopes in the first place.

Rotten

So I whined to Number One Dingding, my childhood friend and also my dentist now, about the filling that chipped off and the huge gape that was left in its place, and demanded for a warranty to replace it.

An "of cos got lah", and I was skipping my way down to the atas clinic, thankful for a new filling that might now allow me to chew with the teeth on the right.

Only to find out it wasn't just the filling that chipped off, but almost the entire tooth that had already fractured bit by bit.

In orthodontic speak, the nerve was dead, the tooth was almost entirely chipped off, even a root canal treatment would not help. Dentures are passé (and apparently, harmful to the other teeth because I-can't-quite-remember-why). So it's either a bridging crown that would entail drilling off two other teeth, or a dental implant that would entail a mini operation of sorts to insert a titanium rod around which a fake tooth would be encased. Whichever I might choose, I just can't leave the hole there, because sooner or later, bacteria would creep into the deep black hole and result in an abscess, and I might eventually just die from pain.

In human speak, I am fucked. Even after a possibly "good discount" and some Medisave subsidy, a dental implant would set me back about a very "affordable" three grand - at least.

I don't know. I mean, I could try watering my money plant three times a day from tomorrow onwards. Invest in some really good shit, or fertilizer. Maybe after a month, I could dig up the soil and find some crumpled thousand-dollar notes underneath.

Just before I left the clinic, Number One Dingding called out, "Eh, you'd better be careful about the big molar on the bottom left, because it's starting to fracture too, and if you're not careful, the same might happen again."

Oh thanks. Maybe I need to buy more money plants now.

Oh. And thank you, Big Guy. With challenges like this, who ever needs Sudoku?

The Wait

Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock...

I don't know, I don't know, and I don't know.

All I know is if this goes on any longer, I might go mad.



Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock...

"他是 Ang Mo Kia"

It was a 'last-minute' thingy, no doubt. Last-minute, because I got stood up by a dinner date and I was feeling all grouchy and hungry when the 'ang mo kia' came to my rescue.

Still, it was probably meant to be.

It just feels good talking to someone who actually understands what you're saying.

Someone who actually understands the urge to disappear to a foreign land where no one knows who the hell you are.

Well, at least I hope so.



Just like I've said it once before, this is still one of my all-time favorites. :)

"Paella or Fondue?"

I was just in one of my usual silly, nonsensical, compulsively obsessive moods when I wrote that.

I wasn't really looking for an answer, but...


The First One Who Bothered To Look At My Nick
the still frame: paella
ME Inc.: hahaha
the still frame: i don't like cheese lol
the still frame: so fondue is clear out
ME Inc.: i dun quite like cheese too
ME Inc.: but there's chocolate!
the still frame: oh yahh...
the still frame: but that's dessert

The Second Sweety Who Bothered But Didn't Quite Make Sense
HS: fondue
HS: paella looks like bryani

The One Who Really Seemed Sincere To Help My Confusion
SKA: paella!
ME Inc.: haha! someone says, paella looks like bryani.
SKA: yaaaa cos they r ignorant
SKA: haha just whack in some nice huge prawns
SKA: n mussels
SKA: fondue is so "in" its so passe
ME Inc.: i'm not a big cheese fan, but i like chocolate fountains...
ME Inc.: anyways, paella beat fondue
ME Inc.: 3-1 sets
SKA: yay! (poor thing, still very blur)
SKA: u cookin ah
SKA: why cant u do paella then choc fondue dessert
ME Inc.: haha...
ME Inc.: i can.
ME Inc.: this is sounding weirder by the minute
SKA: or scrap tht n do pot luck
ME Inc.: so yeah... maybe I COULD DO paella first then have fondue for dessert.


Hmm. I was just trying to decide my love between "Paella" and "Fondue".

Anyways, "Paella" beat "Fondue" 3-1 sets, and I still love both. :/


*****
the still frame: but wait what's this for
the still frame: why the big decision
ME Inc.: haha... nothing. it's just nadal playing federer now in the final.. wahahahaha
the still frame: then
the still frame: fondue

Obsessively Blemished

This is ridiculous. Nothing I ever do is right.

So, I've been staying home a great deal this past week (read: lounging around in my dorky glasses) with Roland to keep me company. Which ought to be a blissful thing really.

Except that I now discover a couple of spots threatening to erupt around the nose-bridge, right upon which the dorky glasses perch.

I give up.

I really give up being a good girl.

A Little Bit of Nostalgic Surprise

You could be mine
But you're way out of line
With your bitch slap rappin'
And your cocaine tongue
You get nuthin' done
I said you could be
You should be
You could be mine

The very first song my iPod shuffled to brought a huge grin to my face. Complete with the somewhat suppressed head-banging.

For a moment, I wish I could turn the clock sixteen years back.

Seattle

I just suddenly wanted to pop you guys a note 'cos i've been thinking and missing you guys a lot.

No kidding.


It all started with this picture crap thing I've been trying to pull off on this page.

I just thought I'd taken quite some pictures with my rather big, fat and underused cameras but I never quite put them to good use. So I started rummaging through the library, and more often than not, I get this whole nostalgic shit hitting me over like a bull.

And in recent weeks, there are these few particular folders that I'd revisit every other day, if not every - just to relive the memories again.

There's the trip with the chicks to the Kong this time last year where we'd walk an hour, pop into a pub for two, stop by food stalls for undefined meals, pop into another bar for a few more and then get irritated to hear local commentary over the World Cup channels everywhere we went. And then, we'd snuggle up in a queen bed with half-drunk beer bottles and half-eaten "curry fish eggs" lying around us, and wake up the next morning complaining about the kicking and the blanket-war (it would be pretty much obvious who commited which crime).

Then there was my self-inspiring trip to Frisco where I'd done nothing else, on my own, but walk walk walk walk walk everywhere. I'd dragged my luggage from the Met station to the dingy little budget backpacker's hostel tucked in one sleazy corner between Little Italy and Chinatown. It was daunting - I'd seen all these infamously amazing Frisco slopes on TV but I'd never thought one day I might have to drag a hugeass luggage, and a huge tired ass, up these very slopes after waking up at 3 in the morning just to catch the first flight out from Portland. From that moment, I knew Frisco was going to be nothing less than an adventure. That I'd managed to come home alive, I thank my guts and my strong legs.

And then, there was Seattle. The city that is sleepless, thanks to all the quaint little cafes that pop up in your face every few steps you take. The city where I had the best ever crab cakes thus far. The city where I first dreamt of setting up my own doggie bakery. The city where I attended my first wedding celebration in a foreign land - by the beach, too. The city where I first thought of owning my own pad. The city where I had family - cousins whom I'd never met in the first twenty-odd years of my life but who I've come to love a lot.

And so, just sometime last week, I opened up the email and sent out a note to the ones I love but have not seen for two years.



Then came the flurry of replies.

Jalita, the half-Indian half-Tahitian Canadian girlfriend of cousin Mark, says, "It is so nice hearing from you. Do you plan on visiting us here anytime soon? Well once you've sorted things out with work, you should come over :) You know you can email anytime you want, and we can chat about anything. Don't be a stranger."

Well, she single-handedly put Tahiti in my travel-to list. And she's so chatty, I've never really felt more girly yet smarty at the same time with anyone else really. She's the one who taught me too to purchase sale items online because they are tax-free.

Then cousin Mark, the cool dude who's really warmer than he looks and who convinces me the love of speed must've run in the family somehow, says, "Any interest in Redmond?"

OF COURSE, DUDE. Get me a job in Seattle. Pleeeeeease.

Finally, baby cousin Charles, the sweet one who isn't exactly a baby at only a year older than I but who is now a father ahead of us, says, "Let us know if you will be coming out to Seattle any time soon. It would be nice to see you again and for you to meet Asha."

Baby Asha. The last time I was in Seattle - that was in May of '05, I attended her parents' beach wedding. And today, baby Asha's nine months old.




I hope to see you in Seattle soon - cos i really miss that awesome place.

:)
mei

The Rape of Hewitt

Watching Nadal 'rape' Hewitt - live on cable TV - is such a very, very pleasurable experience.

I am just sitting here, shaking my head in disbelief, and smiling to myself.

Ozzie ozzie ozzie! Oink oink oink!


That's it.

Paris. This time next year. If dreams would come true.


6-3, 6-1, 7-6. Disgusting.

The dude's just turned 21 today (though he doesn't quite look it, I know).

Striped

Ooh. Hmm.

My very first ever stripes. And you could almost say I earned them.

Kill me. Sombody. KILL ME.

Big For Small

Usually, I would pay for a 'small' and get a 'regular' instead. Or, pay for a 'regular' but get a 'large'.

Today, I paid for a small size and got a LARGE one!

Coffee, that is, I'm talking about.

Still, sometimes we tend to forget that the biggest joys in our lives come in the smallest, littlest, most unexpected packages.



If I could put it this way, Pipes is probably the best deal Fatmama has ever gotten for herself.

Fatmama is such a cheap-skate. Heck.

ME's Back

It's June.

Just about ten months since.

Tons have happened to my life since as well. Some new people popped up in my life, some of whom have made rather surprisingly good friends. Some old friends crept back and unwittingly stirred up some rather unnecessary shit. And then there are those good ol' ones who have continued to stand by me, and whose shoulders I've borrowed a great deal.

I started dabbling in freelance writing to whet my secret desires, and eventually became a somewhat full-time sports writer- wannabe. I turned into an obscure celebrity of sorts with the hosting stint. I have thickened my skin a great deal - I grew from being absolute shy talking to a camera in front of a crowd of kids to being totally nonchalent about stares and finger-pointing in front of the grand stands at the National Stadium. I have grown accustomed to working non-stop 'round the clock, giving up on social outings with folks to work on the articles in the nights.

I have done what I said I had wanted to do ten months ago. I have thrown myself into the deepest, darkest end and I have crawled my way out now. I have done much thinking. I have done much resting. I have run and swum more in the past few months than I ever had in the past two years. I haven't been stocking up my wardrobe, I haven't been going to facials, I haven't been able to go on holidays, but I am loving the little bits of joy I find in other aspects of my life. I am learning to let go of my material desires and to appreciate the real 'ME' I've been slowly polishing and uncovering from the mess.

I don't listen much to the external voices still, but I have been listening a lot to myself. I have sat quietly on the side and watch the inner me grow in strength and in confidence. I have argued and made peace with the inner me.

My energy level is back. I am not exactly the same old me, but I see the same real me somewhere inside me, trying to burst out of the shell. There are things, plenty of things I want to embark on now. On my own. My thoughts are the same yet different. My words are the same yet different. I am looking the same yet different.

Best of all, I am beginning to see what kind of me I am going to be in the future - something that had been a blurry vision for the longest time.

The closest friends have remarked that I have changed. Still crazy, still passionate, still 'ME', but I exude an aura of maturity and confidence that has been missing. I like what I hear.

So this is it.

I am going to take a backseat and have a good rest. And I am going to let the inner me take over the being.

I want newness. I want change. I want excitement. I want passion. I want challenges. I want to be really good. I want my inner me to shine.

Nothing really changes, but nothing really will stay the same either.

Hear me roar, people. If you truly love me, love me.

*RAARRR*

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?