F for Future.

I was reading some horoscopes for couple thingie and I found out that Aquarius and Gemini are both SPENDTHRIFT signs. As in, we aren't the best savers in the world. Well, it's kinda true. I have friends who religiously check for discounts and offers and coupons in magazines, newspapers whatever, but I'm just too hecked to bother and I always end up paying more. Sugar doesn't have such habits either. We're both people who believe in living life in comfort, splurging on each other on occasions. Although that has left us pretty broke, we're really happy. Us silly hedonistic air signs!

BUT, I'm just really worried that in the future, we'll be so caught up with treats and gifts that we'll become broke. It's so tough to get a home, furnish it and form a family. I'm not even thinking about a car and holiday getaways yet. OH GOD.

No matter how qualified we are, the future's always out there as a blur. I'm going to graduate but my career path is as good as Britney on rehab. Sugar is still in NS and still considering his options. We'll be debt laden in no time since I still have to clear off my study loans. Good thing is that, they come interest free from my cousin. I'm glad my course is only 20+k compared to other private universities.

It's just a little worrying since I've sealed my fate to being stuck to Sugar and am seriously thinking about those "future" issues. Like. How much does it cost to get a flat. How much do we need to have in our CPF accounts. Where do we wanna stay at. They are really daunting issues. We have to self-make our futures because we're not thinking about living off our peeps in any way. And we're of the same age. So we'll be facing all those initial career instability problems and those teething stages where we try to balance interest and financial gratification together at the same time. I'll start it off of course, getting to graduate this June. And I think I will traumatise Sugar so much with those corporate woes that he'll decide to go back to studying. Bahaha. I actually love studying. Although I am always so lackadaisical during exams, I really love writing essays. Okay you might think I'm a sick pervert. You know. My evil twin has this wish of becoming a lecturer one day because I simply love the academia too much. Sugar actually seconds that idea. He wants to be a lecturer cuz his lecturers were really slack and well paid. WTH! My lecturers are poor things. I shall resolve to be a poly lecturer. Haha.

And, Sugar and I started to talk about how worried we are about losing each other. He doesn't want me to die before he does. And I totally detest the idea of living without him. I just hope we can live together, as in, be alive together for as long as possible. I want to do so many things with him. Even if it means struggling a housing loan and fussing about laundry.

Although our career paths are murky and somehow depressing, I know Sugar is someone I can trust to sort things out. He can get things done when he needs to. So I know. Somehow, someway, we'll figure a way out to get a comfortable life in the future.

As long as I have him in my life. Whoever told him to promise me a Tiffany and Co. solitaire (I would have been very happy with a Brilliant Rose or Celestial or even some big bling from a seemingly dodgy but trustworthy goldsmiths. I'm not into the brand thing when it comes to bling. If it's a family trusted goldsmith kinda place, I might get my piece customised. But. Then.) deserves to be shot by him because now I am looking to having a bling no less than a 0.4 (my ideal is 0.5 but.) carat from TnC. Good luck Sugar. Tho I love you enough to get married with a Leehwa anytime.

My love my heart my organs!

Adieu.

Sugar's maternal grandma just passed away. Sugar and I were lazing around with some loud music on when I heard loud wailing that didn't belong to the toddlers in Sugar's family. I quickly got Sugar to turn the music down and the wails were from Sugar's mom. I kept hearing her say, "ah ma (as in mother not grandma) mei you le". And it was so saddening. Heartbreaking. I almost cracked into tears. Well backtracking. A family friend just passed away last last week and it was this uncle that I always met at my eldest uncle's place. He was a nice guy. Always friendly. Never one of those gossipy, ill-mannered things that now infiltrate my uncle's place. He died tragically during work. An accident.

Well, that's why when I heard the news that Sugar's grandma died, it just added on to my sense of the world that everyone is dying. It's kinda sad. I always have had a restless yet fatigue view on life. This atmosphere and death and departures isn't really making me the most optimistic, joyous person on earth.

Well, Sugar told me his grandma wanted to have a lunch earlier than usual this afternoon, afterwhich, she took a nap. She passed away in her sleep. It was peaceful, although she was stricke with illnesses since some time back. I firmly believe, only good people die this way. In their sleep. As in, her time is up, and she's done enough good to let her time end in a quiet way.

Oh dear this talk is getting me depressed. Life has a way of telling us things. And I guess it's telling me to tell Sugar a big I LOVE YOU because life is short (and unpredictable at that) so I should never worry about overkilling my affection for Sugar even though it peeves others out.

My heart beats for you my love. Take care.

Just because I look nice.

And I don't know why Sugar was BOBBING his head to a gaussian blur.

I just finished studying some law. Tick tick. I'm hours away from seeing Sugar. It's THE Crystal Jade treat this weekend! We've got $60 of vouchers to eat like pimps (random).

We're gonna clock our 16 monthsathingamajig. Woooo.

Time flies. Shit. It doesn't make sense to dress up for Jurong Point right? But. I wanna wear that new top. Bahhhh.

Nevermind.

I just hate it LAW.

I just finished the chapter on Fraud on Minority. As in. Doing it hardcore, making notes and everything. And I feel. Violated. Bah.

Sugar said he'll sms me before he goes out into the field at 1am but he didn't. SADed. Hur.

S|ack3rZ~

I didn't study much today. Gonna mug in school tomorrow morning.

I'm gonna get pWn3d!

Garlic Prawn Pasta.

Well a week or two back, Sugar upset me pretty devastatingly and so I extorted candy and roses from him. He got three pink roses (because he couldn't find red or nice white ones and the only alternative was blue and I'm not a blue person) and candy!


I love it when my boy becomes this submissive little puppy because the measure of a man is in how he treats the people he loves. And doing all he can to please and pamper them is a really admirable thing. And sweet. And it makes me feel really light in the head.


At the florist at SGH, I was looking bambi-eyedly at this bucket of roses that were gigantic and speechlessly gorgeous. And since I resolved to be the best girlfriend on earth, accompanying Sugar to his two physiotherapy appointments at AH (which was in the later part of the day after I got the rose) and SGH and waiting patiently for him while he ran on threadmills and other kinky workouts, I managed to convince him with my glare, stare and emoticons to buy me a stalk of that monster hugeassed rose. $1.40. That's really worth it. Sugar wanted to buy me 3 but I pretty much prefer a single stalk. I'm a possessive bitch. One and only, Baby!

After we finished the rounds in the hospitals, we got back to Sengkang (not before grabbing some nachos at SGH's Cheers), went to Cold Storage and got loads of garlic, onions, tomatoes, pasta, dried chilli flakes and parsley for the dish of the day.


GARLIC PRAWN PASTA.


The pics don't do any justice to this dish. Well, it was a little too oily and could do with more salt. But generally, the taste was good. Even my Mom said so! It's the first time I tried making olive oil based pasta. I'm so proud of myself. HAHAHA. And I think it made Sugar love me more. Since he LOVES Coffee Club's Garlic Prawn Pasta, which he raved about since forever and. MUAHAHA. I'm gonna DOMINATE THIS BABY. MUAHAHA.


Butter prawns. Which were later lovingly shelled by me for Sugar's lazy gastronomic experience.

I'm gonna make these dishes better and try new recipes.

Being a housewife suddenly becomes not a bad idea. Especially when you're strangled by upcoming exams. Argh.

Maybe I really am a genius.

How, I do not know. But I do know that I went into the Corporate Finance's mock exam hall with the intention to do nothing beyond reading the questions and filling up 5 pages with gibberish and ultimately, the exam question paper, all intended to take not more than an hour, and ended up completing tiny bits and pieces of the required 4 questions, in three hours. Yes. I soaked in the stale air for three hours. People must have thought me a hypocrite because I was saying how ill-prepared I was. But it's the fact. I WAS nothing close to being prepared at all. All I could summon was the CAPM equation and that's about it. I went in there with common sense and fragmented memories of lectures and the pieces I managed to glean from the notes right before I entered the hall. I would be super loved by god if I could get 20marks. But it's unlikely. Since. I think. I REALLY WROTE TRUCKLOADS OF RUBBISH. I wrote about debt overhang when I had no knowledge of it beyond a 5 second glimpse of the tutorial page that wrote about it. All I can remember is that it's excessive borrowing. And that's all. But I wrote a 3/4 page analysis on it. Yes. Yes. I am crazy.

And so, I'm done with CF mocks. Gonna start studying for OT tomorrow and possibly repeat the go school early and mug thing on Wednesday because I am an idiot and I know very clearly that I am one and will not study much at home for the sake of salvation. Dang. I know. SLAP ME. Well.

A family friend passed away tragically. My cousin-in-law's grandma passed away too but without the tragic slant. Anna Nicole got buried. Everyone's dying.

And so it made last night's glutinous rice ball dessert imperative. How many more times can we be sure, that we'll have it, sitting round the dining table, fully able and healthy and alive? God. This is depressing.

Sugar was saying loads of people in his camp are running high fevers that are showing no signs of subsiding. It's either dengue or an ass kicking viral infection. Or worse. Remember La Idler? She gotsome blood disorder thing and passed away in what felt like a week.

Sugar asked me what I would do if he were to die like. Now. I told him he'd better not. He asked if I would be at his wake. Duh. I'd prolly be camping there and therefore screwing up my exams or something. And he asked me what if when we just got married, he suddenly just died or something. Well I said.

"At least can get the money." Since spouses are direct beneficiaries to insurance policies what not.

Wahaha. But I would NEVER want him to leave me in any way. I was feeling particularly lovelorn today because of the surrounding events and I suddenly have this crazy fear of dying. I used to not be THAT afraid of death. But now that I've got Sugar. I don't ever want to part with that guy. And. It's gonna hurt.

Don't leave me. Don't fail on me. Just be here. Don't you ever let go.

Thank God It's Friday.

If all goes well, Sugar is gonna be out tomorrow morning till, well, Sunday, if he doesn't have to get back to camp tomorrow evening. Yipeee.

My throat is a little sore now since I've been trying to mimic vocal ranges that are way off mine. Ahaha. Well. I did a teeeny bit of progress for CF today. Tomorrow will be OT and tomorrow's tomorrow will be cf and then it's cf all the way.

I really, don't care if I fail or not. Dang.

I really should stop my ill-mouthedness.

Karma works in such omnipotence, it stumps me from time to time. Well, I was spitting fire at a certain group of girls related to someone I care very much for on their linguistic capabilities and here I am being smacked left right centre with a full-fledged writer's block. I really should stop being so mean. Because, it's not going to do anything besides making me feel a little fuller about myself. If it's gonna cost me my writing, I'm gonna stop. OKAY. Stop.

Yesterday I got pretty low. I almost struck bottom when I started to weep on the phone to Gary telling him that I don't want to revise at all for my impending exams. (Think, coming Monday.) It got to me so bad prolly cuz I HAVE to work hard and I know it very well I'd better get my ass in the right place before I am forced to graduate with a mediocre useless no class degree but I feel such formidable inertia to get things started. I hate getting started.

A good thing is, somehow, having been sick and whatever shit, I've actually lost weight miraculously although I've been gorging these few days. Maybe it's because I feel really nauseatic when I hit my limit these days. I used to be able to stuff myself silly. But after this long-drawn sickness, I'm still having a sore throat by the way, and I'm starting to have a cough, and my antibiotics have already been finished, I kinda have a low threshold for huge, huge amounts of food. That's a good thing. You know when I say lose weight, I mean like 1, 2 kg that allows me to wear that new orange tube I bought without looking like a tangerine.

Okay. I should get started with my revision already. I resolve to be a good, kind, considerate person in this new year. I shall stop being mean. And stop picking on others' grammatical mistakes.

Okay, okay.

Why this feeling?

I texted Sugar earlier today, telling him to call me when he can because I was feeling kinda low. And so he called me, asking me what happened. I really had no idea, when I texted him. I just felt miserable and it was subconscious to text him. And I realise. It's because I bloody miss him. Dang.

Okay. Overload. But. It's really weeeeird. Because no matter how much I missed him in the past, I wasn't so shitassed forlorn. It's a sick feeling. You know. Doesn't help when you wake up feeling like you've got tuberculosis.

I'm procrastinating. I'm refusing to revise for my finance paper. I don't have much time. But I really have no idea how to get my ass moving. Damn damn damn.

I'm just being random. I wanna sleep. I'd like to live a decadent life. Which does not involve calculations and formulas. Why did I take Corporate Finance? Because I've taken ALL my theory papers already! ARGH!

This might sound extremely puerile. With the lack of motivation and anything. Yes I know. All this ill-begotten struggle is self-bestowed. I shall go sleep now. Before I wallow further in this incomprehensible verbal diarrhea which is going to get my nowhere.

I don't really care about portfolio management. And I don't care about pricing models. I don't wanna care about CAPM or MM or whatever Ms there's gonna be.

ARGH!

Count on Country.

I've never been a country music kinda person. Well, my concept of Country was Leanne Rimes, Faith Hill, Shania Twain. Okay. Point made. I suck at my knowledge of country music.

This song is OLD. But it just struck me one day some many months back, while listening to Tim Mcgraw's Live Like You Were Dying, which was lying innocently, and inevitably in my winamp list which was pretty much ripped from Sugar, the lyrics were shouting to me. And I realised the seemingly silly lyrics which consisted of sky diving and rocky mountain climbing was actually hell damned touching. To the extent that, I cried. Well, you might say I'm someone who'd cry to Finding Nemo and Happy Feet so it's no really big deal about me crying to that country number. But. It kinda makes more and more sense as I hear people around me, or even, people I love, having ill-fate brush against them so hard to make them sore. It makes the song this really apt way of putting things. I know. The life is fragile talk is overkilled, overrated. But you know. If you'd die tomorrow. What say you?

I know it's still CNY and choy choy choy to all this sorta stuff. But quoting from some cooking show (Nigella Feasts!) that said "Sometimes you get prepared for the worst, the worst won't happen." Well. Argh. I hate growing old. And everyone is expecting you to know what to do but still criticising and doubting your decisions like you're a kid. What's that all about? And enough about that dress I wore on the first day of new year already. I love it. So should you. Because I'm not forcing you to wear it. Get it???

Stop telling me not to wear this or not to wear that when eventually, it's just a dress. I'm not GLUED to it for life. I do change, you know. Dressing is a way of conveying an image. Not just to look plainly good. I look good in pyjamas. So should I wear pyjamas all around the place?

It's so hard to follow the dress for yourself doctrine when everyone is so critical. Maybe I just look bully-able. I don't exude that don't come fuck with me attitude enough I guess. You might say that it's because they care. If they really do, they won't be wearing what they're wearing because it really, does hurt my eyes. You want me to be mean? I can spit fire into your face.

You say me, your taste also so so what. Duh!

I'm too nice, la. When I try to be mean, people think I'm joking.

Oh, and stop telling me to lose weight. I have been this pudgy size since I was like. 12? And I've been fat since I was a baby. Why can't people give up after my 22 years of fat existence. I have resigned to fate. Why can't they? I don't see any problem with being a size 12/14. Maybe a weak knee. But. Heck. If you find me an eyesore, don't SCRUTINISE at me and tell me to lose weight. Bah. I know. A girl should be slim, whatever. You know what. They keep saying the media, especially fashion magazines distort our own image of beauty and we then force ourselves to conform. I beg to differ. I think what the ones who are the closest to you are the ones who cuts the deepest wounds.

What was I saying?

Hard Rock Cafe.

Hello hello hello everyone!

THIS was the start of my god forsaken sore throat which turned into a really bad, weird case of flu without the fever but everything else. Imagine waking up feeling like you've been hit by a train and forced to swallow it down your throat.

Dinner time! Much LOVES!

Sugar we're going down HOME!

I'm gonna be fetching Sugar from the airport.

Yipee. Which means, I'll be waking up at 5.30 and rushing out at 6.30 to Changi Airport T2, for my SQ407!

I'll be going there with...





STRAIGHT HAIR!
No I didn't rebond my hair again. I just kiaped it. Since I trimmed my hair again (I'm getting addicted. I've been trimming monthly, which is havoc compared to my once a year haircuts.) and it's light and short enough to kiap without tiring to death.

And I made this for Sugar


Front


Back


Happyyyyy. I'm so danddddydydydyyy

Sugar Sugar Sugar.

Yes. I wear pyjamas dresses at home. This one is my light blue one with mashimaro splattered all over. Teehee.

Eh, my laptop's output jack is loose. OMG I whorified it.

New love.

Leaf, dragonfly, dewdrop. This is Spring.
Gold leaf, horizontal placement (because we'll look like trees when the leaf hangs vertical) with dragonfly trinket and transparent bead dewdrop hanging off it. To be worn slanted as in picture. 105% of actual size.

This Baby is selling at $20. There won't be exact remakes.

I've not set up my site with desired seriousness, but if you're interested, email me at janathema@gmail.com with Rites of Spring as the subject.

My blog hardly has traffic. Hmmm. Let's see what happens to this piece.

My Haunted Msn List.

No one is effectively online at the moment and it really bothers me. Because I'm like a can of Pepsi waiting to fizzle with all my excitement into people's faces (sorry if that sounded like a cumshot or parallel) and no one's there to share the love with. I wanna show some selected peeps the stuff I made and ask for suggestions to tweak my stuff. Because, they are very, me. I don't know how many anal retentive gaudy people there are like me out there. So, it's better to get some feedback. I wanna do it well.

My Sugar is having so much fun, he hasn't called. Pffft. I miss that guy you know. Damn.

Finally getting somewhere.

I made 5 necklaces this week, 4 today, and it's a good start for something I've wanted to do since secondary school. Great. I just need to get hold of a better camera and things might just get started. I AM EXCITED. Okay. At last my Mom and Linda liked the things I found and made. Thanks. Nothing's better than some kindred spirit!

Now, I'll just get a lj with a decent username and ask Layhoon for more tips to wander around sgselltrade.

I feel really geared. Even though I'm laxating. Well, Sugar is having his RnR by now and it's really cool to finally work all the days down to ONE. One more day and he's gonna be back. I am, exhilarated.

Two more days.

My muffin is going to visit Taj Mahal later. If only I could be like Mumtaz, save the dying pretty early part. Wooo.

I spent the entire morning buying and packing fresh food. 4 chickens, 3 fish, 8 big prawns, at least 5 kilos of pork (all sorts of parts), LOADS of vegetables (think 30 dollars), and loads of other stuff needed to make offerings to our ancestors. Omg. I can't really feel my legs now. to think Sugar thought I was sneaking out with someone else. BAHHH. COME LOOK ME FRIDGE LORSSSSS. Hypothermia killed my baby's brain la!

He suffered from Hypothermia yesterday, adding on to my worrying for my Dad because he had a semi stroke-ish, fit-ish condition that day. Argh.

Sigh. I kinda hate life now. Because on top of everything, I've not packed my wardrobe yet.

Bangra Night.

My boyfriend, who is in India, is grooving to palpitating indian beats, drinking beer and spirits, having fun in camp because apparently, it's there last day of training there, of which, the rest of the time will be dedicated to clearing and and basically preparing to leave before their RnR.

He seems to be having more fun than I am.

=(

Dang.

Out of sight, out of mind.

When I die, of all the things my Dearest Jialin has told me, I would remember this one single doctrine with such clarity you'd think I'm still alive.

"Out of Sight, Out of Mind."

When I am all geared up about school, hanging out with friends, I miss Sugar, but in a sweet, I so am looking forward to seeing him kinda way.

But when I start to read the messages he sent me, the testimonials and comments he left me before his departure, I start to get emo and think that the whole world hates me and that's why my Boyfriend is made to go for overseas training.

Out of sight, out of mind, really.

On a happier note, I met with Linda the Bipolar at Holland V this afternoon. She was SEVERELY late but I didn't really do anything to her since she said




Okay la. I still love you deep deep la.


Told you she's a bit bipolar. Not in moods, but in personality. As seen here, she's trying to twist her own neck to death. Not. HAHA.


See, I actually have FRIENDS. Humans, at that. Vday and Yingying's 22nd Birthday celebration. Settlers was funner than expected. I pwn Taboo man.

I miss my boy, la. I shall stop looking at those heartwrenching smses he sent me before he boarded the plane.

HUR.

postnote: we're all ageing "girls" who are still in our relentless pursuit of eternal youth, and thus, the hand gestures. i'm glad i pulled it off quite well.

Tainted, if not stained.

Allegations have been made regarding a teacher and a student, who purportedly had a sexual (and also, romantic. but the girl said something that made this description bracketed.) relationship and now, the girl's friend has acted as a whistle blower and has reported the incident. The girl, is also trying to get herself in a pristine position, but, I can't help but wonder why dusty old adults still think kids will always be weak helpless kids who would unconsciously subjugate themselves to external pressures and succumb to them, not realising they have been disadvantaged?

Anyone who has watched Hard Candy, sans the pedophilic underlying notions and the fact that the guy prolly deserved it, would agree with me that, it's totally irrational to underestimate what a child can do, if not, a 16 year old girl.

I have been 16 years old. And with the kids these days being more. Not to say mature but with their growing up process accelerated a fair bit since my generation, (age does not equal to state of maturity.), 16 is the new 18. I wonder why, but I think I'm seeing some kind of manipulative manuevres here.

Who is the victim?

The girl, who received an abortion?

Or a teacher who has lost his career?

You might say, yeah. Abortion would traumatise a girl and it's definitely not a viable option for anyone with a baby.

Let me make my position clear. I am pro-choice. Not pro-life.

That might skew my point of view a little but there's a point I really want to make. She was barely over 16. And she'd already lost her virginity. I'm not saying that she's a slut or whore and ought to be punished with abortion for having engaged (or indulged. HAHA!) in sexual intercourse. What I want to say is.

Does she not know about contraception?

We have all been educated about this in those close door assembly sessions when the boys and the girls are separated and girls get sanitary pads as door gifts. Is it ONLY the male's fault for her abortion?

If she's smart enough to blow the lid of the can, why wasn't she smart enough to tell her parents about it, or better, why didn't her so-called friends lodge a complain the very moment that they found her dating a school teacher?

The girl, I quote loosely in paraphrase, said she was in love because the teacher was a graduate and was smart and could teach her things.

What the samhill of a fuck is that?

I am disgusted by the girls' unabashedness in bringing upon the allegations, sounding as if she was a totally innocent party and is all manipulated, exploited and controlled by the male teacher. All I can see is nothing, but an act of sweet revenge because the male teacher pushed her and she fell, hard.

If her friends are smart and mercenary enough to ask for $1500 for an abortion and "tonics", why didn't they educate their dear friend to be not as silly and have sex with her teacher because, she was in love because he's a graduate?

All signs seem to show that the teacher, excuse his horniness, is being "betrayed" as said in his own words. Why didn't the parents say anything about the abortion to the authorities since they knew about it? Why wait most opportunitiscally till things soured before allowing all the shit to hit fan?

You might feel that as a girl, I should empathise with the girl's situation, and that a girl will definitely be a disadvantaged party in an arrangement like this. But, hell, I'm not gonna go into all that feminist manifestation about how guys will never lose out in a sexual relationship because in this instance, the guy possibly will be losing his job.

All because he pushed the girl he slept with.

At 16, there's no doubt that the girl could be as enticing and attractive as a girl of age 20. We don't change much anyway, except prolly, what we used to wear into a better wardrobe. And there's no reason to say that the girl had not seduced him. I have heard of stories where female students are so audicious in their moves to get close to the teacher, they're outrightly instigating them to commit a harrassment of sexuality.

My heart goes out to the teacher. Bastard or not, I do not know. But in this case, he's losing out miserably. And he didn't even get to pop her cherry. He's $1500 poorer, which is really an extortion, and he's going to be unemployed, given MOE's zero-tolerance to such stuff (I can understand. How can the school or the teacher himself face the jurisdiction of everyone else anyway?). And for that girl, who fell in love because her school teacher was a graduate, I'm sorry but you deserve zilch of my sympathy. Because, you are one who obviously know about sex and the consequences, and should have known better. It's not your first time, you weren't raped. As much as it's the male's responsibility, it's the girl's too. I mean, she didn't reject his coming onto her did she? If it was a one-off and they had a baby. Okay. Fine. She deserves a bit of my sympathy. But it was a sexual relationship, a regular, on-going one. Who's to blame who in a boy girl relationship involving sex? What's wrong with you.

I think. Just because you're a girl, it doesn't give you the right to exploit this social perception of being disadvantaged. It is unscrupulous, and despicable. If she had really felt that what she did was wrong, she'd have reported the guy once she found out that she's pregnant. Not when the relationship soured.

It was an opportunity for her to stake on her biological sexual orientation. And it's really, disheartening to see a grown man's career, and future, being ruined in the hands of a puerile and revengeful teen.

She's just a bitch, in my opinion, defamation or not. I apologise, but really. KIDS NOWADAYS SUCK!!!

This is what happens to your view on the world when you're getting old and your cells are ageing.

If she really was in love with the teacher, she'd not have spilled everything out into the open.

God, I hate hypocrites who try to victimise themselves!

My point is. Ahem. Don't blame the boyfriend for your own pregnancy. Because all is not only in the hands (or pockets) of the guy.

And don't blame someone for getting into a relationship with you with you asked for his number and readily accepted his pursuit.



I'm done. Where the hell is HAZLINDA. I've been waiting for her since 12. In the library. Yeah. My patience is running out.

Free treats!

I just redeemed two vouchers from starhub. I didn't know watching all that cable trashy taiwanese tv would actually create some REAL benefit, besides being extremely happy to stay home on weekdays to watch the female vanity shows and the Kang Xi Lai Le. I just love Dee Su. Hearts hearts hearts.

Well, I redeemed a $30 Crystal Jade voucher and a $20 Olio Dome one. I'm gonna go to these places when Sugar comes back! I'm gonna claim ownership of these vouchers since I was the one who redeemed them. Yipeee. I'll just go use them without the other's knowledge. I mean. I'm the poorest in the family. Give me some incentives in being helpful!

$30 at Crystal jade is not too bad really. More than 50percent shaved off. And OLIO. I miss their wedges. Omgomgomg.

Anyways, this means that I'm gonna get to eat and eat and eat and celebrate Sugar's return at discounted prices. Yeay.

I'm just really happy today but one thing plagues me.

Anna Nicole Smith has died.

First, Xu Wei Lun. Now ANS. I am so traumatised. Everyone in the world is dying. EVERYONE.

I just hate the idea of knowing people dying. It irks more when they are named, and publicised. Statistics are numbing. But obituaries always make me sad. You know, I think, pro-life moments of whichever sort should stop focusing on statistics because we are do desensitised to them. You need people. Stories. Biographies. That's what makes people cryyyy!

Apparently, I'm the last one who got to know that Anna Nicole died. WTF. Even Linda the not so tabloid person in my life already know about it. (I just called her especially to tell her this.) Okay la. I'm a bit laggy. I've been in school the whole day, WHAT!

I'll go do my nails now and sleep after that. I'm gonna dress up nicely tomorrow. But I know Linda will be late. Damn.

I'll just. Walk around. And imagine I'm an expat.

Right.

My boyfriend is an Ahbeng.

Proof:



And he's in India. Boohoo.

Married.

I realised a friend of mine has just gotten married. He was a promoter for some other IT product when I was working. Well, he's the sort who is all geared up to do things, and makes you certain about how he's gonna achieve what he wants. I thought he was mature for being a xiao di. Since he's younger than me for sure. But. OMG HE'S MARRIED. Discerned from the wedding photos on his profile.

If you think I have any vested interest in this guy and hence my shock that he's married, you're wrong. Because. Sugar and I have been wanting to get hitched for good since we got over some hardcore rifts and. Well, we're still only a couple. I am shocked, because I'm so ever curious of how he got his money from to get married. And I am itching to ask him how he got his funds to get married. I also want leh.

If the option is parents, it's definitely not viable. Because the only reason my parents will finance my marriage at THIS age is if I was pregnant. Other than that, hell would they want me to get married so young. Since I've yet started working, or assumed any responsibilities serious enough to make me a bride. And the thing is, I don't want a shabby wedding (to Sugar's dismay). I'm not asking for crazy fullerton dinners. I just want something presentable. I want a banquet, godammit. And to walk around in a gown of a colour that makes me look fat. And have wedding photos taken, and aided by photoshop, that makes me look nice.

You might now think that, I've been trying to make myself an edgy person so much yet I always conform to these conventions. I don't believe in the marriage is between two people and hence there's no need for such big jimbangs. If marriage is about two people, then why just not stay a couple? Getting married is already a form of conformity. It is a social institution. Which makes the statement "marriage is between two persons" kinda paradoxical.

While I have been pretty anti-marriage for the longest time till after I met Sugar, that's what reading Hollywood tabloids do to you, thinking that why start something that is gonna be ugly when it ends, I'm rather pro-marriage now because. I guess I've found The One. Ya know. The one who sweeps you off your feet and whirlwinds your concepts of self and couplehood and life off tangent. I used to think marriage is just a tool to get flats, have a baby with legitimacy. Maybe as we study marriage as so much of an institution, the more emotional, and likely less rational part of the whole idea of being officially known as a unit of existence gets diluted so much, it's no longer there. Which is true for many things now in this world. We pretty much keep missing the point, being riveted with the cost-benefit analyses and subjecting ourselves to tasteless practicality. Is that how you'd want to live your life? Having a baby to make sure you have someone to pay for your old age bills, studying merely for the paper chase, drinking milk not because you like it but because it's just plain good for you? That's just so. Urgh. For the lack of a better expression.

Sugar and I want to get into some holy matrimony because we think the depth of our relationship has reached a point that allows us to be sure that we're gonna stick to it. People then go into the argument of. You're only 21. Don't you want to date somemore, experience more to make yourself sure? Excuse me. I'm 22. And I have dated enough to know that Sugar is a dinosaur. If not, a dodo bird. Because I've not found someone so silly to give unconditionally and have such an intentive, pure heart without the naiveness. I'm making Sugar sound like a fairy. I wonder how he'd look like in spandex.

If this is gonna be too chummy for you, take a deep breath. Well, the point of getting married is for everyone to know that you guys are in love and in bliss and want their blessings and their angbaos (hur hur). To me. You might not concur with me, but that doesn't mean shit to me. Because, it's not you that I'm getting married to anyway. What.

It's gonna take Sugar and I more than 5 years to get the funds together to have our own place, get married, and finally get to mess up our own house.

If you think I sound like a lovelorn, lovesick, lovestruck, idiotic puppy, so be it. My boyfriend is in India. Deal with it!

Sick. Lovesick. Flusick. Whatevers.

Sugar is out in the fields. And I miss him so increasingly very much.

I was watching tv when I came across some image that triggered a crazy idea up in my head.

Why don't Sugar and I relive that lovey, initial, honeymoon period of our relationship?

The jitters you get the first time you kiss or the cheekiness when you first have a good grope of his ass.

Why can't people keep dating (which we do) each other after being together. Why do people necessarily have to settle and sediment into this couplehood utopia aka the grave? I always thought against domestication (in the past). Over domestication that is. I appreciate a great deal that Sugar still makes effort to make me feel special and brings me out to nice dinners and other fund-depleting activities. We've never stopped dating one another, wanting to go this place and that, dressing up for each other. I still get my flowers. I get my blings. I am contented.

We always just slum at home, doing nothing, but I realised I never, ever get tired of doing all this seemingly dull stuff. I feel JOY in waking up and seeing Sugar's face 2cm from mine. I feel bliss.

My brother was asking me how I keep my relationship interesting.

By being in it? I don't think if a couple is together for long enough they'd still need to prove themselves and impress the other party consciously. Imagine trying to find something funny to say every second of dating your other half. It's gonna be taxing man. The thing is. Sugar finds everything I say funny (partly because my IQ drops to slightly above 20 when i'm with him). That's the point. It's not what and how, it's who... eventually. Right?

I shall take steps to relive the budding stage of Sugar and I's days of our lives. The again, I think I am still feeling that nice, positive vibe. Because I still am obsessed with staring at his face.

I think my boy is cute. Ooooo my chipmunk. Where the hell are you. Argh.

Don't call me baby.

Because it's expensive!

Okay. Nevermind. Sugar called. And I'm just typing off my braincells.

11 days to go. E l e v e n.

Come back soon.

He's prolly not gonna know about this since he's in a third world military base (which makes it even more third world. why do i keep picturing somalia.) and can't access internet. I'm gonna go fetch him! And I'm gonna wear my best suit because, that day I looked pretty much wtf. I must make an impact, you know. At least I can be described as "fat but still looks presentable" instead of "fat and kua dio gui". I have to redeem my previous polo tee mediocre appearance!

I know why I am having a sore throat. God is trying to bestow me with the golden opportunity to avoid sins such as ba gua and company. Wooot.

I feel so loved.

Sheeesh. The things I'm preoccupied with. I disgust myself sometimes.

Okay. Giving myself another chance, the real reason why I wanna go fetch Sugar is to make him love me more so that he'll wash my clothes for me when we stay together.

I am on the grand plan to NOT WASH CLOTHES. I pretty much prefer dishes to garments. But if I try hard enough, I might get immunity from dishes too.

Just kidding la. I wash his underwear one leh, you know. I'm the exploited one okay.

Talking about exploitation and India, I think my tuition kid's maid is pregnant. My mind starts fabricating 101 scandals. Is the kid in her womb my tuition kid's SIBLING???

I shall stop all this. I suspect it's the coke and panadol concoction. I'm on a highhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I love you Sugar! I miss you so muchhhhhh!

I swallowed a razor blade.

That's the only possibility that my throat can hurt so effing much. When I was on my way from school to tuition, I was feeling rather chilly already. Even a slab of corn ice cream and coke didn't do my good. So with half an hour left to my tuition, I asked to leave early. I rushed home on a cab. Yes. I am sick again.

With an impending lonely Valentine's slapping into my face, my Mom most endearingly asked me whether I'd want to join them for Vday dinner. What am I supposed to do? Pretend I am a stool when they're dining? It's kinda ridiculous I know. We used to go out as a family during Vday because my brother and I were both lost lonely souls. Now that my brother is attached and my boyfriend celebrating Vday with a bunch of stinky sunburnt men, I am left hanging on a thin string of self-pity. Damn. I am contemplating the idea of heading out with my parents. I mean, I am like the EPITOME of their love for one another right. Pffft. I'm crazy. I'm feeling sick so. Okay. I pretty much should get away with everything on earth.

I hope my throat gets better. Despite being sick sick sick, I managed to sit thru a freezing 2.5 hour lecture and finished 2 essays in school. I can't say I'm not impressed. Gives me all legitimacy to feel sick and pitiful.

Sugar called just now and the line started buzzing. Okay. India. I understand. He's gonna try calling again later. Tomorrow is his Big Two Two. My boy is becoming a Man! Yeay!

Random snaps.


On our way to the airport on 02/02/07. Boohoo.


I henceforth make my point that we're a sick couple.

Anyway. I've made a record! This is my first sore throat of the year. Meaning, I was safe from sore throats for an entire January. Wooo. If not for that god forbidden spring cleaning yesterday, I wouldn't have been sick. My immune system has gone from zilch to Zimbabwe (or insert any other random z word)! Yeay.

Whenever Sugar is away, I fall sick. Maybe I mentally psyche myself to be a small small woman. Like. Oh I'm so weak. Without you I will die. Cough cough.

It's good to be a small woman. Because when you get attitudinal, he'd know for shit I mean business. Big, tough women lead a tough life. I shall be bimbotic, lead a good life, and have Sugar do my laundry in the future.

Yeah right.

But it's not feasible to be a perpetual bimbo because, I suppose, men will get bored of taking care of you and say goodbye one day citing a reason that he needs someone "on his level", "independent and charismatic" and "self-contained". So while being bimbo, my aim is to be a bitch simultaneously. So that, before he sorts out what how to deal with me, he'd be reminded of why he's with me. Yeay.

I'm just rambling wafflecrisps. Look what Panadol Cold Relief does to you.

Yankeedoodle! I just had to say that.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

Holler in Hindi.

Just kidding. Sugar called back from India just now, saying that he has problems trying to call from public phones with his world card. So I checked with the hotline and realised that you have to PAY to dial the access number on the card. That means, the call is chargeable on top of the existing charges. What rubbish.

Okay. So now he's fine. And he told me yesterday night via sms that it's cooling there. "Cooling". Like. Herbal tea, ya know. Wahahaha.

At least he didn't say it's dead cold or something. But with my heartfeltwarmthful pair of gloves (which I bought him) he should have no problems at all.

To celebrate this joyous occasion, I shall indulge in lovey dovey pics. I have enough pics that I've yet uploaded to last me throughout his trip to India with random postings. HAHA.






Oh kill me!

Speaking of killing, I almost killed a flying female cockroach just now. But it went to hide behind the magazine shelf and I chickened out and called SOS to Dad. Haha. DIE BITCH DIE. She died in a comfortable shroud of 3ply facial tissues. Lucky bitch.

It actually isn't feeling that bad yet with Private Ng far far away. Maybe it hasn't set in. But, having gotten to hear his voice, I'm a happy woman. Now. I have to finish my Law assignment. I hate ittttt. And I have spring cleaning tomorrow which involves the amount of dust enough to shoot Silent Hill. Grrr.

The birthday treat.

I surprised Sugar on Monday with a birthday cake I got from Four Leaves because this poor boy has to spend Birthday in India.


The cake.


The cake and the babies. Okay, it's getting a little chilly in here.


The boy and the cake.


I have good taste! My Muffin is so adorable.

He was really happy. To think I blindfolded him at my door and carefully leading him to wash his feet in the bathroom and eventually to the dining table. But the smell of candles and cream can hardly be mistaken. He sniffed the cake out even before I unblindfolded him. He was planned to come over to my place to stay for the night. I had tuition, but I pushed it up to early evening, took a cab to Compasspoint and was elated that my favourite Coco Exotic was available off the shelf. He had no idea that I made a detour, thinking that I was taking the bus home. I was bursting with excitement when I heard his slippers flip flop down the stairs before my block (the acoustics are damn good here), fumbling with the lighter, rushing to switch off all the lights in the house. This proves that I can be UNbimbotic when I want to and manage to pull things off, alright!

That's my Baby. And I hope I did my best to make this pre-birthday celebration special enough to match up with what he gave me last year.

When you're broke, it's the thought that counts!

Starbucks serviettes saved the day.

It was coffee, and a banana muffin at Starbucks at the airport, not long before he had to get through the gates. I shouldn't have been there. But after a long struggle with meagre amount of light coming in through the curtains when dawn was breaking hesitantly, my perseverence to be a good student faltered. 6.15. It started with me trying to laze on the bed for the longest time possible before I had to get up and prepare for school. 6.20. I was half awake. And negotiating with Sugar. He wanted me to go to school, I wanted myself to, as well, but somehow, this morning, I decided that I should send him off. I just felt compelled to do so, on top of having the incentive of being able to sleep in further. I didn't know his flight was at 3.20. And when he told me that, I realised, heck. If there was any talk about priorities, I felt that Sugar was it. And I was right.

So, after the macchiato and the muffin, and after a short trip to the toilet for Sugar because he felt uncomfortable with the idea of 4ft by 4ft toilets, or worse, Indian ones. I scribbled a letter for him while he was in the toilet (he could still slot in an i-love-you message while he was executing the grand expulsion.) but my verbal diarrhea (how contextual!) couldn't stop itself, and he eventually found out about it when he finished his stuff.

The group of Mediacorp crew with Jesseca and Pierre Png engaged in some film shooting was good distraction. But not for long. Before I saw the collar to Sugar's jacket was flapped in. I was arranging his clothes into place, desperately trying to avoid his gaze, tugging hard on the seams of his jacket under his collar, and mumbling stuff like, you have to call me, you have to take care of yourself, and all that mindless paraphrased "i don't want you to leave but you have to" stuff. And then I looked up. As I was tugging on his jacket still, pulling him towards me and pushing him away. Dang. I met my nemesis. I ended up burying my head into his chest and crying. And then I looked up again, with that piece of loot from Starbucks covering the lower half of my face, I saw his heart wrenching. I know that look, I've seen it many times before. I felt like a kid. His friend saw me, while hugging his own whining girlfriend, bewildered initially with why I was covering my face with that brown recycled piece of serviette and later, realising I was crying and gave me a slightly different expression. I looked away. At Sugar. I was appeased for a moment. I felt slightly better when I saw so many of his fellow men about to go through the same shit as him. Like, he had company, and he had people to take care of him. I was consoled by the fact that he is a smart guy who always made his way through troubles. And I felt proud. My man is THE MAN kinda thing. Ya know. Then. It was time for him to leave. I hate looking at his backview. I hate it. Everytime I see it, the feeling gets worse. It's tough when everyone was wearing the same sweater, having that NSman haircut. It's hard to trace your possession. But when he was about to get pass the customs, he turned back. And somehow, I wondered how I did, but I caught Sugar waving at me. I wasn't looking at anyone in particular. I wasn't searching for him because I couldn't. But I could see his expression, and his eyes, with such clarity. It was weird. For someone with my kind of eyesight to be able to see so much through a reflective piece of glass (the cleaners work very hard, evidently.), it's a miracle. Maybe it's because it's him. And I know his face so well, I could hallucinate his blurred face into clarity. I can't forget that scene. Of him walking away. With a grim face. He was the only one who kept turning back to wave goodbye, every two three steps or so. (insert teardrops here.)

At the end of the day, I got myself 2 weeks of psuedo-singledom, which I am not keen of, definitely, and a deep respect for Starbucks serviettes. Because not only are they absorbent, they didn't tear even after being soaked with tears.

Now my boy is on an SQ flight to New Delhi. And then, on a train to god knows where and a bus to Babina. It didn't help that we were surfing online to find the map and weather conditions, and then coming across this NSF's photo album page which was headed with "The Darndest Place On Earth". Thanks.

I hope he enjoys the food on the plane. And the Singapore Girls.

Leaving On A Jet Plane.

All my bags are packed I'm ready to go, I'm standing here outside your door, I hate to wake you up to say goodbye. But the dawn is breaking, it's early morn, the taxi's waiting, it's blowing it's horn, already I'm so lonesome I could die.

BAH!

Why do you have to leave when it's going to be your Birthday, Valentine's and New Year?

I hate it when the world hates us. Maybe they're just jealous.

Before he leaves.

Happy Birthday my Muffin!
(the incandescent light is from the candles on the birthday cake.)

More pics coming up. But before that. Let me savour my last few days left with the Boyfriend. I still hate India.

Pffft.

Assignments.

I have an Organisation Theory assignment to churn out. To my understanding, this is the only subject that I can lavish with all my fancy jargon and manipulative, emotive language. In fact, while I got huge brackets with the word "Gibberish" written stylishly beside them for General Paper in Junior College, I actually got a bracket saying "Wow, good English!" In my most current paper, that I got 88/100 for. I haven't gotten that since Primary School Math and I am thoroughly elated. Especially when the piece that followed was a 72/100, a first class honours stunner.

So now I'm kinda engulfed by the paranoia stemmed in the fact that I totally messed up my Marketing last year even when I got first class assignment grades. Because, I pretty much am a crapper. I'm not a point form mechanist. I have a problem of writing too much, tho.

I'm gonna try to put something interesting together in this one. I wanna slack and do it later tonight. But I know I'm not gonna. So, bye. I'll be back feeling more jaded about life and be versed in Transaction Cost Economics. The transaction costs relating to the writing of my this essay, is for me to waste time rambling about here because I am feeling severe inertia and needs to get into the mood of writing.

Sometimes I wonder why I am taking a Business course. Before I realise because I'm too poor to do one about Mass Communications. Oh ya. Constrains. The irony is, scarcity and limitations are the fundamental reasons why there's Business as a discipline.

Fuck all this irony!

I am not an efficient person, so why am I going through all this education to learn about efficiency, productivity. Blah. OMG. Okay. And I hate the parts about innovation. How can you theorise innovation for Christ's sake.

You get what I mean.

Triggers. Bang bang. My Baby shot me down.

There are names, things, issues that can make me go neurotic once I hear of them. Funny how I can just start snapping and acting like a sophomore who forgot her prozac. Normally, no one can mediate this tussle within me. And as I implode with pettiness, I realised that I shouldn't let them bother me. And so I start to think the world is beautiful and psyche myself to feel at peace with everyone else, whether I appreciated their existence or not.

Normally, normally, Sugar is the one who bears the brunt of all this childlike tantrums. Proximity issues. Because every explosion has a radius of effect. And when the shit hits fan, he's the one who's so close, he's standing right under it.

Damn. I just wished I won't flip flop flap whenever I hear things I don't want to hear. To have a more open heart and be that person who couldn't care less. I wished I was like how I was in the past. I felt I was just transient if not translucent to people and others are as such to me, in the same way as well. Heck all those detractors, ya know. The one who whispered to shout, the one who kept silent to deafen. Wa, cool man. But I've become this sick puppy who barks but doesn't bite. Too bad la, huh. I'm weak!

I just don't enjoy some people, some things, some times. And I don't think I can make myself disappear enough to boycott their existence.

And all he could do, was sigh.

Post mortem.

I googled a certain online aliases I ran by for one of my myriad of online personalities and realised how far I've left those things behind me.

I'm glad.

Why I am broke but still so dandy.

One.

My reason to live for tomorrow. (To wear it.)

Two.

How can one not be happy with a death by chocolate? My reason to have died on Saturday.


Mighty Joe Young.


Azuki something... I never expected red beans and coffee to marry so blissfully.


Doesn't Sugar look so cute when he's sucking? If he can look so delish sucking from a glass of coffee, can you imagine how lovely he'll look sucking from a living thing? At the rate I'm going, I'm gonna need a disclaimer and membership only access. Okay. I'm not trying to make my boyfriend gay but I really dig his feminine side. To an extent, he's gay because I'm THE MAN! BAHAHAHA.

I am so happy! I bought 2 purses, a nightie, a tube dress, a pair of shoes and a tube of mascara. All for $60 at Ang Mo Kio (the places I go to!). I am all blithed up. I am sooooo happy!

It was a way to heal my sense of existence that was shattered by a nightmare last night involving my lecturer telling me right to my face that I look too blur and will never succeed in my career.

Nightmares like this tell me I'm growing old/up. When I really don't want to.

I wanna be an essay writing student forever. Sigh.

Made in India.

Well, Sugar is going to India and as an almost distasteful way of shoving it down his throat, I brought him to Little India, Mustafa and all. To feel that turmeric fever and gasp at the size of our very own, Indian Vivocity.

The main purpose of us being there was to go get dinner at Gangas Restaurant's vegetarian buffet. It used to be $9.90 per pax. But it's now $13.50, prolly because of all the renovation that has been done to it. The spread of the buffet is still the same. I totally [HEART] paneer. Wooo.

I'm glad Sugar loved all that naan, thosei and dahls. But Indian food is like an occasional thing to me. I love it once in a few months, but I can't get too much of that curries and spices, because I'd eventually get sick of it. To not forget, I still have munjen taste buds. So. Yeah.



Outside Gangas. We were there too early. Amazing how my hair still looked so fresh after drenching it with rain.

It rained so heavily on Saturday, I thought Sugar will get all grouchy. But he didn't. And happily subjected himself to all that Indianisation. Although we did bicker. He can be a p**** when he wants to be.

We went to TCC after that. I'll put the pictures up soon. Baby's treat. Teehee.

Yeay! It was an eventful weekend. Well. Sunday was dimsum at Hong Xing Red Star at Chin Swee. And Chinatown rocks because of their cheap toiletries. I actually bought a bottle of Kodomo shower to feel like a kid once again.

The things I do to feel young these days!


Say "CODFISH"! At Red Star. Their Siew Mais and Zee Bao Gais whoop ass. GOD!

The more you stay the same, the more they seem to change...

I was surfing places I used to adore. Suicidegirls, Lithium Picnic. And of course, Apneatic to see my dear Apnea again. But her site's turned into a pay-per-view trashy domain. She used to be art. Now she's subjected herself to being porn. I am devastated. She was my dream girl, ya know. I'd never been that into any other girl before. Not even my favourite japanese pornstar came close. Hah. Okay, nevermind.

What happened to my suicidegirl?

Well, shops I use to patron closed. Buildings I grew up with have been torn down. Apnea has become a pornochick. Why are things so different from how they used to be? Now I am actually in a state of paranoia believing everything is transient and will slip away someday, making me indulge obsessively in their vew existence.

I hate it. Absolutely. I just want everything to stay the same.

Crazed out.

Continuing my exploitative outings with my Mom (shopping on your good Momma's plastic feels soooooo divine!), I have managed to gather myself pretty much of a lot (used to be MY phrase!) of Hang Ten tanks (say hello to the new tongue twister). I have removed the tags from the sides of the tanks so no one is gonna know about it except you blog stalkers. I have white, red, blue and green now. Yipee. I almost got yellow. But I thought it made me look sallow. So I didn't want to look like a sick fellow. So I didn't choose yellow!

Bah. Well, I've been beginning to add colours to my wardrobe while adding my favourite black ones. You can imagine how much I'm buying.

I got a corporate bitch jacket at G2000 just now for $39. It's original price is $159. Holy shit!


Okay, my camera works fine in good light!


I see her so much, we're almost Lesbian. Hey, my camera not bad ah!

Sugar is booking out tomorrow. We're gonna go Little India tomorrow, but before that, I have to clear that Little Iraq in my room.

ARGH.

Sucky cameras make for a sulky face.

I realised my W850i has a worse camera (in broad sunlight) than my old V3i! How can this happen? It's supposed to be a 2 megapixel camera but pales so much in comparison to other Sony Ericsson camera phones. My Sugar got a Samsung D900 (the slim series) and his 3 megapixel camera kicks bad bad bad ass! And has flash! Mine just beams out an overwhelming stream of light which has to be turned on.

The walkman functions are fantastic. The megabass blows me away.

Well, to show you how the camera is pretty sucky (I'm standing before my balcony with a good supply of light. I've taken many pictures with my V3i as such.), I'm gonna post no makeup no hairdo, phenomenally paranormal pictures of myself. I am a brave woman.


Say hello to my dark eye rings, eye bags, and uneven complexion!


And say hello to my new dress and belt! And my thick arms! And double chin which is trying to sneak into the picture!

I hope that no makeup picture wards evil off my blog. Ohm.

Where is my boy!!! Come back from the wilderness already! Please!

Joseph and his technicolor dreamcoat.

Joanna and her (newly) multicolor wardrobe.



I <3 narcissism.

Works of a fickle mind.

I am fickle minded. I admit. I'm a Gemini. It's an inherent flaw. Like an itch in the depths of your ass that you can't scratch or remedy. Well, what I can do, is to not pass on the consequences of my fickle mindedness to others. Of which, I fail to. I spill my grumbling all over my kith and kindred.

Sugar grew all grouchy on me when I started to debate with myself to him, how I should have gotten the black W850i whilst justifying my choice of the white one in the end and how I kinda regret it. He raised his voice at me, telling me he'd had enough. And we moved on to another topic.

So I transferred all that lament to my close friends. Who, I have decided to put a disclaimer forth to to save them lashing back at me for being such a bimbo. And it worked. Jialin and her friend Huiwen both told me the white version looks way better and stands out much more. Thanks. I feel so much better! Truly!

I just need someone to justify my decisions for me. It's just this silly thing about me. I like to hear people tell me I did the right thing. Okay, maybe I have a weak mind. Or I've been told I make the wrong choices too much since young (being in a controlled environment) that sometimes, tho not always, I fall into this lost little sheep mode and cease brain activity. And then ask "which should I get huh?"

Maybe I'm too good at rationalising, and see something's pros and cons so clearly that I end up sitting on the fence since things are never totally good or detrimental. That's why I'm always so torn between choices. I don't have impulses anymore. OMG. I'm numb-ed! I'm only 21 (turning 22 shit shit shit).

I finally arrived at the best justification I could find. This phone is REALLY representative of me because it's WHITE and FAT. Bai bai pang pang, ya know. Am I supposed to laugh at my own self-depreciating humour now?

I bought two tank tops, a black dress and two bras today. I'm happy. And fat. Which is good. I have to stay fat to match my phone now.

Pffft. Slap me.

Yeay!

Although I've heard of horror stories of sucky online purchase of handphones, and that Sony Ericsson phones need to be tested on the spot cuz their speaker volume might vary, I bought a W850i online because it was on a premium and I am seriously in need of a new phone before my V3i tries to go all emo on me.

So, yeah. I've got a new phone which is gonna arrive tonight. And I'm pretty excited about it.

W850i

I got the white one.

Please do me a favour.

This layout is built with a 1280x800 resolution in eye. If you guys working on 1028 and 800 find any problems with the alignment, please drop me a message. This just shows that, I work on a laptop and I pretty much don't think about the rest of the world much. HAHAHA. Well, it's a Friday morning. The start of a long day. But I am surprisingly chirpy. Reason being, I'm gonna meet my Sugar later today. Since his camp is not going to give him dinner, it means that he's gonna be out before... Very late. Yeayness! Let me go blow dry my hair and do something to my bedroom of bedlam before my Mom mistakes that state of mayhem to be the works of a burglar. I'm sorry. The way I manage to find things is by putting them all out, on the floor. I don't believe in organisation. Since I'd forget about the system sooner than a goldfish. And then I'll start digging for things that are neatly packed but forgottenly arranged. And then my room returns to that state of calamity. Tah dah!

Okay. I'm just excited to see words appear on this new layout. It's shabby. But I am ALWAYS excited about new things. BYE.

Something nice to say.

Well, the other day, Sugar and I engaged in a squabble that involved itself in rated R content which I will not disclose here. But that, is not the point. Because how many couples can walk out of each other, hang up on phonecalls, and then just hug speechlessly together and make up?

Sometimes I realise, saying sorry makes things worse. The mediocrity of this term is beyond plenty's understanding when it comes to being apologetic. I realised, clutching onto your loved one like a koala remedies better than merely saying sorry and not meaning it. Because differences does not amount to mistakes. And without believing that you're wrong, saying sorry just sounds plastic. When I hug Sugar these days, it's a way of saying, "Okay, we're seeing this differently but we won't let it get to us so let's hug and remind ourselves that we love each other a hell lot." It beats apologising when fundamentally, I think there's nothing wrong from where I come from. And technically, there's nothing wrong from where he comes from either.

Maybe I'm just a difficult girlfriend. Because if he admits to something that I think isn't wrong in the first place, just the execution of it all, I will flare up further, unable to understand why he's trying to lie to me, saying he's wrong and stuff when really, he isn't? I never really grew up with pacifiers. I sucked my own thumb. Explains why I subject myself to fate so much.

But I must say, Sugar is one hell of a tolerant darling. Considering the fact that he started off with a huge temper, he's changed so much. But that turned me into a bad, bad bitch. Because apparently, all the temper he lost went to me. And now I'm a ferocious mongrel always waiting to bite on his faults. And he's actually STILL ATTACHED TO ME. Tells alot huh?

When Sugar made his trip down yesterday afternoon with Mr Bean and Old Chang Kee (and all my favourite stuff from those places), I wasn't really surprised. Because I knew he'd get me something. I am really grateful, and touched. But a part of me is taking it for granted. Like. I know he'd do it. If he didn't, I'd have been mildly disappointed. Thing is, Sugar always gets me stuff. You can't blame me for taking it all for granted right? Don't tell me you can live without the toilet flush.

So, I'm really glad that I have such a darling Boyfriend. Well, all that shit that came to me before I found him was kinda, worth it. Ya know, karma. When you start getting loads of shit, you know something good is coming along ultimately. And when I have quarrel-free periods for weeks, I know one big argument's heading our way.

Bit, you're the best. Really. Although I don't think I deserve all this pampering, it gives you no reason to stop being so nice to me. My taking you for granted is the fruit of your efforts. If you were a downright sucky boyfriend, I wouldn't have the chance to take you for granted, right? Because that'd make me taken granted for. Hmmm. So, yeah. Be proud that I'm exploiting you. Have you ever heard of people exploiting Rwanda's land? NO!

I'd better go sleep. I'm losing it.

Happy Fourteen Months!

It's our 14th Monthsary today. Time flies. And I wish I knew how to present my affection for Sugar in some new way. But, well, at least I've been motivated enough to make this interim page. Because my previous site got screwed up. And I can't remedy it. Sigh. All my backup templates have been deleted since I changed my computer. Argh. Well, it's 11:11pm now. How nice. Sugar and I got together on 11/11/05. Yipeee.

I can't wait to see Sugar tomorrow. I <3 The Boyfriend!