Stranger

"... but he meant something to me... for a long long time..."

Someone I didn't know is gone. How, or why, or who he was, I probably wouldn't get to know.

But I do know this someone was someone who mattered a lot to my girl. Whoever he was to her.

Strangely, I felt something bittersweet brewing in my heart. Maybe it was because I could feel my girl crying at the other end of the chat. Maybe it was because I could feel the amount of love that was suddenly overflowing from every human pore around me - yearning yet lost. Or, maybe it was because I remembered how this human world works, how you and I love but never embrace it with fervor, how you and I love but never get to telling the blessed ones that they are loved - and how we never realize it until it is always too late.

I try my utmost all the time not to harbor morbid thoughts, but I know best never to have regrets.

If I were ever to be snatched from the face of this earth with no warning in advance, I would like to know, at the last few breathing moments of my life before my eyes shut forever, that I had nothing else left inside of me that I'd wanted to tell someone but been too proud or fearful to say.

So, I said my I-love-you's every day and night.

I said my I-love-you's every time before I boarded the plane.

Now, I hug and kiss my little man everytime he would allow me.

I hug my chicks and babes tightly and tell them I love them.

I forget the hurt and I love all too easily.

I remind myself everyday not to be so mean to my mom.

I write posts once in a while to sing about the appreciation I have for the friends and blessings around me.


And so, with lots of love in my heart, I smiled and hit the "send" button on my phone this afternoon.

Come what may, let's just appreciate what we have today, and live like there's no tomorrow.

Dictionary 101

So I ran today.

And then, I also met up with the chicks.


Runner's High
Definition: A state of euphoria where a runner finds him- or herself doing things he or she didn't originally plan for.
Example 1: You clock 39 minutes when you had originally planned to run for only 30 minutes.
Example 2: You clock 55 minutes on the second run when you had originally planned for a 45-minute one.

Alcoholic's High
Definition: A state of euphoria where an alcoholic finds him- or herself doing things he or she didn't originally plan for.
Example 1: You imbibe five whites when you had originally planned for only two.
Example 2: You drink and make merry and supper till two in the morning when you had originally planned for an early night.


Runner's Block
Definition: A state of nuahism where a runner finds him- or herself cooking up all sorts of poor excuses to skip a session.
Example 1: You blame the lousy drizzly weather.
Example 2: You imagine a slight pain in your knee.
Example 3: You suspect there might be some construction workers around your neighborhood.
Example 4: You check yourself out in the mirror over and over, and convince yourself you are not fat.
Example 5: You complain not being able to find any of your twenty sports bras nor any of your thirty pairs of socks lying in your drawers.

Alcoholic's Block
Definition: A state of nuahism where an alcoholic finds him- or herself cooking up all sorts of poor excuses to skip a session.
Example 1: ...
Example 2: ...
Example 3: ...
Example 4: ...
Example 5: ...
*Editor's note: Section to be completed.


So, it seems I still have a long way to go to rid myself of the runner's block, and an even longer way to go to complete the latter section.

I know. I know one day I'll find the same joy in running.

Brunchie With The Cutie

I did cuss and swear when I had to drag my arse out of bed at ten-half this morning. Not because I was up and still awake at five earlier in the morning. Not because I didn't fancy a tai-tai-esque brunchie with my favorite mama at a cafe by the sea.

But because of all my dramatic episodes in the nights, this last one had to be The One Where Jay Finally Teased Me.

*Huumppphh*


But then. But then. But then...

It was all worth it. :)



It was such killer charm that drugged me and kept me awake half the day. Though I really do hate to admit that, at times, the little boy did remind me of his monstrous daddy.



I have this thing with little boys these days, so it seems.

He was drooling on over me. He was eating on me. He was tugging at my boobs. He was laughing so hard at with me he actually pooed in my arms. In my arms, where he stayed a long time.

Yes, I do think he loves me. :)



Ahhh... like his own momma would exclaim... I is cannot take it!

:)

No matter how the day turns out in the end, some things just manage to make me s:)mile.

:)

Don't you think too that the word 'smile' seems always to smile at you? Or, is it just me? :)

Drought

I suppose, yes, I'm recently back into the intensive psychoanalysing mode.

And I suppose also it is not doing me much good, much as I want to hope it is. For one, it seems to be negating all the positivity I am supposed to 'exude'. Two, I still can't find the answers... while the questions keep mounting. Three, I just learnt that a braindead mind tends to get better-quality rest at night.

Damn! This has gotta stop. Please, please someone. Make me stop.


I don't wish I were a man.

I sometimes do wish I were a dog.

But most of all, I wish I were different.

So I could be just like everyone else.


I need more jokes. =/

Smiling

Yes, I smiled.

I smiled when the usual phonecall came at the usual time in the morning.

I smiled when I woke up, knowing I did an extraordinarily early one last night, though I still think I could've done with yet better quality sleep... or at least, some more interesting dreams.

I smiled when the little bratty prince kissed me on the lips before I left the house.

I smiled when I had my first bite of my sesame-bagel-with-cream-cheese.

I am smiling because I feel a lighter heart inside after I realized some stuff and made some decision: that I would go back to the point I was originally at and then start all over again.

And I am smiling because someone asked me to.

=)

An Honest Post

There are some who claim that the world of ordinary experience is an illusion, and that the doors to the real world are opened by sacred drugs or practices of medication. People who claim to have seen the truth this way are usually dismissed as dope-heads or wackos; but they think it is we who are the fools, trapped as we are within the limited world of sense experience.

Why is it that when I first read this passage, I could almost immediately feel an inexplicable affinity toward 'them', the supposed wackos as defined?

Why is it that I almost always readily proclaim myself to be the crazy nut and that everyone else around me is the 'normal one'?

Why is it that I sometimes feel I really don't belong anywhere in this world?


I spoke once of 'homesickness'.

And it didn't happen because I was physically far away from the one and only apartment I've known my entire life.

It happened because I was physically and mostly emotionally far away from the one I used to love like he was the one. The one whom I actually thought I felt a real belonging to.

Homesickness is such a bittersweet sensation, you actually feel it churning right in your stomach. One that once warmed my heart, but now I don't wish to suffer no more.

I shouldn't belong to anywhere in this world. Most of all, I shouldn't feel like I belong to anyone.


But it is tough, I confess. It is tough having to be on your own all the time, it is tough not having anyone to belong to.

It is tough not having someone to love you, like you actually really feel entirely loved. Entirety to your core being.

I look at people around me all the time, and I wonder how some make it. I wonder how some of them could love themselves so much they don't seem to need anyone else. I suppose it is indeed possible - but only if you're built that way.

I don't think I am.

It seems a very rational answer I've thought of to my constant struggles with life.


So then. Because of the wacky nut I am, coupled with my seeming need for a constant companion who would love me in my entirety, I think I have it all figured out.

Perhaps that is why I seem to hurt some people around me. Why I seem to create 'unnecessary' trouble for the ones around me I actually love.

I suppose my passion for life in my own way is simply too intense, too imaginery, no one could comprehend, no one could cope with it.

To these ones I love, I am sorry, I really didn't mean any hurt.


I really think I ought to live on my own, in my own world. Just to save anyone else any unnecessary trouble.

I am not sorry about my existence nor about the way I think of life, I just think I need to learn to deal with it. And as much as I can try to, be as normal as everyone else. Especially when I am around everyone else.

Folks who in only all good intentions try to love and take care of me might give up. They might even regret ever having me in their lives. I will only be sorry that they had even wanted to try.


You and I, we really shouldn't even attempt to judge anyone, especially the ones we really love. Nor to form any expectations of what they should think, how they should feel, who they really should be.

Because not only would it bring you disappointment, it destroys the relationship.

Rationality is relative. The only difference between a conventionally sane person and an insane one, is the basis of their individual rationality.

You might think a human being who has done wrong deserves to die, while I believe that human being, like all others, really deserves a second chance.

You might believe a monster is not to be loved, simply because a monster is harmful.

I believe I will love a monster, simply because that monster deserves to be loved.


There is a new movie I would very much love to get my hands on.

It tells of a young girl who lives in a mental hospital because she believes she is a cyborg. She meets a young dude, also in the same mental hospital, who believes he is capable of stealing other people's souls.

It's an extraordinarily simple story about how two crazy nuts shut out by the rest of the world love each other passionately.

Because all they know is to love the person for who they really are.

Absolutely amazing, isn't it?


If you never try to see the world from another's point of view, let alone walk a mile in their bare feet, you are refusing to look beyond the walls of the small, comfortable world you have constructed for yourself.

Women's Lies

Something, which I think was originally meant to be another silly joke, just came in over email.

Yes, yes - another manifestation of my "very bad sense of humor".

*****

One day, when a seamstress was sewing while sitting close to a river, her thimble fell into the river. When she cried out, the Lord appeared and asked, "My dear child, why are you crying?"
The seamstress replied that her thimble had fallen into the water and that she needed it to help her husband in making a living for their family.

The Lord dipped His hand into the water and pulled up a golden thimble set with pearls.
"Is this your thimble?" the Lord asked.
The seamstress replied, "No."

The Lord again dipped into the river. He held out a silver thimble ringed with sapphires.
"Is this your thimble?" the Lord asked.
Again, the seamstress replied, "No."

The Lord reached down again and came up with a leather thimble.
"Is this your thimble?" the Lord asked.
The seamstress replied, "Yes."

The Lord was pleased with the woman's honesty and gave her all three thimbles to keep, and the seamstress went home happy.

Some years later, the seamstress was walking with her husband along the riverbank, and her husband fell into the river and disappeared under the water.

When she cried out, the Lord again appeared and asked her, "Why are you crying?"
"Oh Lord, my husband has fallen into the river!"
The Lord went down into the water and came up with George Clooney.
"Is this your husband?" the Lord asked.

"Yes!" cried the seamstress.
The Lord was furious. "You lied! That is an untruth!"

The seamstress replied, "Oh, forgive me, my Lord. It is a misunderstanding. You see, if I had said 'no' to George Clooney, you would have come up with Brad Pitt. Then if I said 'no' to him, you would have come up with my husband. Had I then said 'yes,' you would have given me all three. Lord, I'm not in the best of health and would not be able to take care of all three husbands, so that's why I said 'yes' to George Clooney."

And so the Lord let her keep him.


The moral of this story is: Whenever a woman lies, it's for a good and honorable reason, and in the best interest of others.

Unglamorised

Me: Houston, there's a problem...
M: Clementi, there's a siao char bor...

Nobody would think it, or any other message, would be that ticklish. Except maybe me.

Either I really just have a very bad sense of humor, or there's something really wrong with me.

Really wrong.

Cheat

We all get tired every now and then, don't we?

About work, about shit, about life. It's not just you, nor me; I suppose the mother who sits across from me cooing to her newborn son would get tired sometimes, or the security-uncle who sits stoned but still looking all-important at the same counter everyday, or my friends who are busy but seemingly pleased with their jobs and round up their otherwise normal daily lives by having couple of happy drinks with chums before heading home for a good night's rest.

Sometimes, it's just a worn-out body who tires out the mind, and we all regain that bit of energy to take on the world again after a good ten-hour snooze. That would be simply good fortune to know.

Then there are those sneaky times when we just feel tired inside out, we want to stop thinking, we want to stop breathing. We're so tired, our stomachs feel sick. We cuss and swear at the ills and wish they would all just disappear. Times like this, we just want to give up. Even if it is something you had really wanted. Times like this, you begin to doubt yourself and you forget what you were fighting for in the first place.

Is it just a burnt-out mind, or is it a seriously-wounded soul? Either case, I have no foolproof cure for it. Some say sleep would do some help. Some say booze, others say travel. I don't know.

I just know I am so fucking tired. If a deep, endless slumber is only but wishful thinking, then I just hope tomorrow, somehow somewhere I can find that energy to fight again.


Life is like those Choose Your Own Adventure storybooks I snuck from my brother when I was small and sick of playing with Barbie.

Only problem is, I cheated.

Every time I disliked my badly-chosen scenarios, I would cheat quietly and flip back a few chapters, just so I could choose my adventures all over again. Of course, trying very hard at the same time to remember the bad routes I had chosen before - and never to go up the same ones again.

If only I could cheat in life as well.


P.S.: Yes, I did use to own Barbies.

Boot That Thought!

The morning I left Hong Kong, my heart was at unease.

I knew I had forgotten about something, I knew I had left something behind.

What it was, I never really did manage to figure out... until today.


I forgot to buy my all-important Boots supplies!!! Aaarrgghhh!!! How could I?!?!


Remembering about Boots today also brought something else unfortunate to my mind.

Boots inevitably reminds me of Bangkok.

Before HK, there was Bangkok. I have always loved Bangkok for her tom yum goong, green curry, cheap bras and most of all - Boots. There is nary a fulfilling Bangkok trip without a loadful of Boots squeezed amongst my dirty clothes.

But today, the sudden thought of Bangkok reminds me of how life loves playing pranks on us.

Of how some things almost were, but probably were never meant to be.


And thinking of Bangkok also makes me hungry now.

Very, very hungry. =/

Other Loves

Much as I try to be resolute and stick to my top three should-loves, I know there are other people/things that will always tear me away from my numero uno.

Like, chicks for whom I'm willing to give up my time, even though I had already made plans, albeit for myself, to be a good girl for the night. This is my bane: if I'm not there for my chicks, I just can't trust anyone else who would be.

And then, there's ...

"Huh? What's this? You'd love money more than me?"

Haha... You'd know my answer, hunny.

You jolly well should.

Lessons

Couple (or maybe more) of lessons I have learnt this week.

One: Never say "never". The things that you always say 'never' to, will always end up in your court. Somehow. TRUST ME.

Two: (Regardless of the 'never' lesson) A "no" is always a "no". I hope some people get that message right. Subtlety doesn't work.

Three: Close my heart, and shut the fuck up. Less expectations will be formed of you.


Yes. Shut my trap.

Whenever necessary. In fact... perhaps, all the time.

That way, life might probably be much, much easier.

Another Nice One

#&*^%@(*@&$!!

I have no words for this. Absolutely zilch.

For the one year that I finally missed Portland, it snowed. It fuckin' snowed. Big-time!

I love ya, Big One.


I so swear I'll make me my own white Christmas this year.

Money money money money money...

Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue...

Halfway through our crap one night over the weekend, one of us chicks started to chant: "Roses are red, violets are blue... then what huh? What huh?!"

All the chicks scratched their heads, pored over the very 'cheem' question but none could come up with the right answer.

Baffled, and refusing to be deemed dumb chicks who didn't know their love poems well, we resorted to the know-all master Google. And then we found out: there is no right answer! Hurrah!

Instead, we got more than what we sought. Plus some more.


The So-called Original Version
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet,
And so are you.


The Hum-Sup Version
Roses are blue,
Violets are red,
I'm crap with colors,
But wicked in bed.


The Hum-Sup Version Part II
Roses are blue,
Violets are red,
I am not a gynaecologist,
But I'll look for you.


The Primary-Three-Kid Version
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Someone like you,
Belongs in a zoo,
Don't be mad don't be blue,
Frankenstein was ugly too.


The Wednesday-Addams Version
Roses are wilting,
Violets are dead,
Sugar is lumpy,
And so is your head.


The Smart-Aleck-Lil'-Sister Version
Violets are blue,
Roses are pink,
Did you just fart,
Or is that your feet that really stink.


The Deliriously-Happy Version
Roses are orange,
Violets are green,
This is the best weed,
I have ever seen.


The Only-Men-Can-Think-Of Version
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I made this poem up,
While sitting on the loo.


The Ah-Lian Version
Lohses are led,
Wylets are bloo,
You gip me laimonds,
And I mally you.


The Ah-Beng Version
Char Bor le si led,
Ta Bor wa si bloo,
You be my stead,
And I make lup to you.


The Little-Prince-of-a-Nephew Version
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
My Thomas trains are smashing,
And so is my 姑姑.


Heeheeheeheehee...

New Loves

Ok, after much deliberation, I think I had been a bit too dumb. I had gotten my priorities all wrong; I had been too easy in my loving.

And I thought I was big. Sheesh.

For one, it's pretty dumb to think you actually love a brand. Worse still, to think you love a brand who would never be capable of loving any single one human being.


So this is my new 'love' motto:

One: Love ME ME ME more than anything/anyone else.
Two: Love my girls. (Only simply because I am their all-loving God.)
Three: Love money money money.

Yes. I have (finally) decided to love money money money more than you, my friends.

Darn, I should've been more gian lui from the the beginning...

WWF-Slammed

There I was, for a moment, floating... floating... floating... higher and higher... until the stupid bubble burst.

This time, the bubble's a little soapier and almost that close to heaven. So the bump on the ass feels a bit more painful. Like I had been WWF-slammed.

Most of the rescue work revolves around smacking myself on the head every now and then.

Wake up. You already knew deep inside you something was bound to happen. You're never that happy little kid who gets to enjoy free happy meals, complete with the toys of the week.


It is precisely at this point, I would like to stand in front of the blue sea and scream out at the top of my lungs that I hate erm... stuff.

But then, the lousy weather doesn't quite permit that. Which is just as well, since I know my friends would all smack me on the head one by one too if they knew what I had been up to.

I don't need any more of that now. I think my head is already not functioning as well as it should.


I think what I really badly need now, other than writing tons of awwsome letters, is some self-administered dosages of laughter. HUGE dosages.

No need. I don't need nobody to make me laugh. I am a big girl, and I already have a good reputation around this area of being able to laugh at a computer.

I have my email jokes, my stupid videos, my list of silly blogs, and my favorite you-tube.

Or, some wise quips from my witty friends. Like this:

"No decent director would dump you over the phone."

I like witty people. Really.

Cliffhanger

I crossed over to the 'other' side.

The other side where I thought might have greener pastures, but I didn't really search because all I really wanted was just to get over there and bask in the greenery to mend my wretched soul.

"Come back over," they had cooed as they sent me off. "Come back when you're healed."

I smiled, shook hands, turned my back, and crossed the bridge over to the other side.

Five good months of lying on the grass, staring up at the blue skies, daydreaming about life and possibilities later, I got up, stretched myself, and decided I needed something more. Something more real in this world. It was time for me to go in search of that something.

More importantly, maybe as pompous as it may sound, I am needed somewhere in this world. I have to find out, I told myself.

"Hey!"

Just as I had gotten up and fluffed the bits of grass off my pretty brown skirt, someone yelled after me.

I turned around, and saw someone waving at me. Someone from that side across the bridge where I had come from five months ago.

I smiled and waved back.

"Hey! You're up, finally! Come back. We want you back here!"

Should I? Shouldn't I?

I would love to. I missed that place across the bridge. Not much greenery, but there were indeed human beings over there I loved anyway. Human beings whom I had seen cross the bridge to and fro in all of my six years there, but also remained in my heart wherever they might be.

But then, I hadn't really done what I had set out to do. I turned my head away from the bridge, and looked ahead.

What might life really look like out there...

"Come! Come back. We have a lot of good things for you back here. We miss you, and we need you!"

And then it hit me like a bullet train. The love I had for that place hit me in the head and rushed through all my blood veins.

Groggily, I turned and started my way toward the bridge.

One... two... three... then a little pause... then I continued making my careful steps up the long shaky bridge. In no time, my steps quickened with confidence, and there I was, halfway across the bridge.

"Wait a minute! Stop right there! Someone set the bridge on fire! Hang on right there, I'll get you!"

Hang on right there?

Oopsy. Did someone actually notice the fire has broken the bridge into two, and that my life is now hanging on one dangling end?

Someone send a 'copter. Hurry.


So you see.

Stop telling me to "be careful about burning any bridge". They offered me to use the bridge first, then fuckin' burnt it.

There is no more bridge.

If you still want me, send a bloody 'copter.

The wait is killing me.

(Crappy)

In times exactly like this, you thank the Big Guy for creating the wondrous technology known as 'email', and for (crappy) friends who bother to cheer you up with (crappy) email jokes.

So anytime you start feeling blue, instead of reaching for the valium, you just log on to your email and pull the (crappy) jokes - like this one - out again for a good laugh.


Funny stuff to avoid for your kids...

Mandarin
Paul Chan - Bankrupt
Anne Chang - Dirty
Faye Chen - Dusty
Anne Chin - Keep quiet
Henry Mah - Hate your mum
Jane Tan - Frying eggs
Nelson Tan - Bird laying eggs
Leslie Tong - Rubbish bin

Hokkien
Carl Cheng - Buttock
Monica Cheng - Touching your buttocks
Lucy Leow - You are dead
Suzie Leow - Lost till death
Lim Yew Lin - Drink urine
Lim Teh Peng - Drink iced tea
Danny See - Squeeze you to death
Corrine Tai - Poor fellow
Rosie Teng - Screws and nails
Carmen Tng - Leg hair long
Pete Tsai - Nose droppings

Cantonese
Connie Mah - Call your mother
Macy Koh - Never die before
Micheal Tan - Sell eggs
Michael Loong - Sell chicken cage


Funny, just laugh out loud. Wherever you are right now.

Just like me.

A Little Scare

So, shit happens time to time. Perhaps even all the time. Sometimes big-time, too.

And the thing is, everytime it happens, we just wipe our asses before we go on with life. Unless, well, you're a blissfully nonchalant two-year-old.

So shit happened.

So bad, it almost ripped my guts out.

But I think I'm doing a pretty good job, cleaning up myself - so quickly. And so surprisingly.


I said, only for tonight.

I remember I said that.


I am back, as promised.

With still a little bit of anger, but surely, hopefully more smartness too. A cooler, but also heavier, head - damn.

I will show all my hunnys and babes out there, that those who do me wrong will not do me in.


To the ones who gave me a good tight slap (each) across the back of my silly head last night, big thanks.

I needed that.

And I needed you.

*****

And so this was how it ended up: I didn't do no face-mask, hair-mask, whatever-mask, I didn't come home early, and I didn't even have my zzz monster for company.

And then now, I got to deal with the poofed-up eyes.

Big Guy, whatever happened last night, I'll talk to you about it sometime later, maybe in the day.

For now, if you can really perform miracles, please make my eyes pretty pretty again. By 1 o'clock.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE OK.