love.Christmas.

i love gaps of silences in between music.

i love stepping into a foreign country right out of the plane.

i love smelling the aromas of freshly baked brownies.

i love independent films made with such precision even if they were obviously low budgeted.

i love hosting dinner parties.

i love discussing thematic symbols of plays,musicals and films/books/scripts/art.

i love reading philosophy.

i love macadaemia nuts.

i love walking on the beach.

i love going up to mountainous regions.

i love simplicity.

i love running.

i love hearing little children laugh.

i love seeing old people smile.

i love intensity.

i love to love with an intensity.

i love to cry when i watch a film.

i love to feel alive.

i love the smell of vanilla ice cream.

i love boiled peanuts.

i love exclaiming excitedly after I learnt something.

i love eating sashmi with alot of wasabi.

i love eating ALOT of chillies.

i love reading success stories of self made entrepreneurs.

i love listening to stories of wise veterans.

i love reading history.

i love reading.

i love being boring,gawky and geeky and pore over books.

i love being comfortable.

i love parties.

i love beautiful dresses.

i love hats.

i love hearing my mother say "this is my daughter" when we meet others.

i love eating with my brother.

i love how my godsister kept shoving tons of junk food onto my lap during the movie.

i love my godsister.

i love my gd friend,her fiance.

i love how he lights up when he talks about indian food.

i love eating with them,especially when he introduces me to things i stare suspiciously at.

i love that jalapeno breadfried thingy he forced me to try.

i love hugging the little children i once visited at an orphanage.

i love talking to little children like they are adults.

i love toasted bread with peanut butter and jelly.

i love the colour white.

i love surprising others.

i love being surprised.

i love seeing my bro and mum at the arrival gate.:)

it is christmas....i love this season of love and giving.i love Love.

Yuck

This note addresses my utter horror in certain circumstances which u will never find me in,after listening to some friends describe in vivid details.

U see,I'm absolutely talented when it comes to visually imagining things. Had u told me there's some kick ass restaurant or food place with such elegance and detail, I'd be there in a heartbeat.

My friends told me they played truth or dare recently and the wager was soooooo gross. The appointed person had to lick the the entire rim of the toilet bowl AFTER pple used it. When I heard it wasn't a toilet bowl,but those squat ons, I nearly went into cardiac arrest. If u don't already know,I'm a cleanliness freak. I have some pet peeves my friends will smile and tell U about.

I never liked eating in a restaurant where my table was either closest to the toilet or facing it at near range. I also do not like dirty toilets,yes Im sure nobody does,but I secretly look disgusted and horrified every time I have to use a public toilet. Therefore I really really really hate it when people go into details about their excretory system ESPECIALLY during dinner. It's the worst etiquette in the world.

I know,I'm an anal person,and I'm apologetic. But,on a brighter note,U know when U come to my house and U eat my cooking, it's absolutely top notched with the pinnacle of hygiene. So guess what happened to my friend who had to lick that entire rim of the toilet bowl?Immediately the next morning lotsa nasty red patches and rashes and funny boils grew on his neck. SEE,I told U! Not being mindful of hygiene and playing with fire to such grossness will breed grossness. YUCK.

I'm glad the 4 bfs I had previously were ALL clean. In fact 1 was a neat freak who loved arranging things,he even helped a couple of his friends tidy their houses in US. Ok,so now U know who I'm talking about. HAHA. Another was also a cleanliness freak who showed me how he did dishes by scrubbing the inside and outside of bowls diligently. U know how some lazy bums tend to only scrub the insides because that's where food had been? I was pleasantly delighted to know that he was thinking along the same lines as me.That same bf made salad for the guys living in the hostel once and I was so pleased to see he had gloves on during the process.

Now,if U think I'm a princess who cannot eat at street stalls or a diva who must be treated with utter respect being placed on the pedestal, U are half correct. I MUST be treated with respect because in the same way I will treat anybody with respect, I NEVER decide that one person is more important than the other.Unless U're God,since that's the only being I cannot find a flaw with. I love street food and Taiwanese street food is gastronomic! However I don't fancy being brought into disgusting conversations or listening to people tell me why they love drinking urine because of its beneficial effects.To each his own. It also will never turn the romance on by telling me in fascination that the poo eating ways of some extreme couples are interesting or that some Japanese believe in eating baby poo. Just kill me,it's easier.

Mummy

I miss u mum.

This time round I could not stay for long,but u actually took a day off to make chicken rice for me. It was your first attempt but wow,it was exactly how I loved it. And u took all the meat apart,so I didn't have to deal with the bones. U knew I love breast meat because I'm the sort that hates gnawing on bones and then U wedged all the bones apart and removed them. U're so sweet ma. And u also helped me prepare so much chillies because U know I'm such a spice fanatic.

Mum,I'm sorry I'm such a brat. I have a fiery temper (damn,it's those chillies) and spew venom whenever I'm hungry,annoyed or provoked. U see mum,I'm exactly 12 now and I'm acting my age so let me grow up some more while U stay young and beautiful.

U insisted and insisted that I didn't have to do laundry and honestly I should have beaten U at insisting,because I am the mother of all stubborn mules. But then,U're MY mother. So. I now know where I inherited those obstinate, headstrong traits from. Mum....I know U won't read this,because it would be too crazy to add U on facebook. What would u do if U realized that your daughter is such a psycho she has all these crazy applications and personality tests to prove that she is a "playful kisser,a Guru lover", a serial killer called Sylar from Heroes and secretly lesbian (portia) too? And all those times I stared fixated on the computer screens looking painstakingly intellectual when I was actually hooked on facebook Mafia and playing Rock, Paper, Scissors and every intervals sending people virtual "gropes,dropkicks,pwns???"

and invisible eggnogs and sleigh rides. What would u say mum, what would U say?

Oh and I get secretly thrilled too when people "pwn,hug,kiss,grope,dropkick,cuddle" or send me gingerbread men,turkeys and a Grinch running after me too. I am a hair's breadth away from turning absolutely insane from the cyber-reality world and while I tried to blend in with the reality and the world beyond Facebook in society, there I find friends,colleagues and even my director and producers are on Facebook. They have told me they liked the virtual ice creams I send them and are a little miffed when they are not mentioned in my Notes or are further down the columns in my Top Friends section. So after clearing the 500 application requests I get whenever I log on,I decided to join a group that says "If someone sends me another facebook application I will eat up their parents", yes it's deplorable mum, I know I'm superbad.

On a lighter note and straying away from Facebook, I would like to say that U looked absolutely greater everytime. Would U think I can look as radiant as U when I grow up next time? I know 12 is a little far away but at the rate U're going,ma,I'm aging faster than U. I also thank U for putting up with my pet peeves and offering me that safety net whenever I feel traumatised or bullied. I think I end up bullying U sometimes because I throw out my pent up accumulated frustrations without batting an eye mostly.Mum,mum,mum,no,it should be mummy because that is what I call U since I was born and it has never changed. I think I just wanted to prevent people from thinking I was acting cute by calling U that but screw it, oops,sorry I meant, Bless them.

Love u ma. Thanks for being my mother.

Extremes Vs Moderates

I am extreme,and excessive,in fact I'm extremely excessive. Pardon the pun honey but I TOTALLY had to do it. I guess most people would say,"be in moderation" about everything,from food to erm being of temperate natures.Mostly I feel like defending the edge of my extremes and excessiveness by screaming out loud at the mofos who preach that. So,would U like to be loved in "moderation" and also be told U're only "moderately" beautiful and that U are going to be "moderately" successful for the rest of your life? Whenever I read articles or interviews some artistes with their predictably "I eat whatever I want but the key is MODERATION" gets me wanting a punching bag so EXCESSIVELY bad. If that was the case why do they not continue saying the same resounding preaching but insist "....and I eat alot of fruits and vegetables and drink alot of water." U might as well have said "The United States has many states" or " Cows produce milk but don't wear bras."

OK,so I'm a little "excessive"when I draw out my sword of sarcasm.

I think being moderate is a nicer way of saying being in the middle,being in transition and being lukewarm. Have u heard enough sad stories about the middle child syndrome or the tragic clauses of being mediocre for your hard efforts? Or how about that one in the bible where Christians who were termed "lukewarm" would be "spat" out by the Lord?

I think one of Singapore's tv stations might consider a nicer name,how about Mediocre-corp. OOPs,sorry for the rude reference, no, my bad,sorry for suggesting that it was "one" of Singapore's tv stations,it IS the only station in Singapore.

I think...I like to love excessively and in extremity and dangerously. I like being passionate and I like, nope I exist to love to love mostly and I never could express all the held back feelings I always had because I was trapped and pent up for being excessively tolerant and wanting to be so bloody nice all the time.Yes I admit to being extremely slow and retarded in my realizations but if I had not met J who helped use music to bring out the courage and nerve for having a nerve out from me I would still be wallowing. In victimized niceness and tolerance. I also think people who catch my flow will either love or hate my characteristics. It used to bother me,because I felt as a good Christian girl and raised as a "moderate" creature, my task was to show the left cheek so often it got so sallow after all the slappings I accidentally got. "Accidentally" because the good shepherds around me say that I had not meant to deserve the unnecessary bashing however it was something only time and forgiveness can nullify the situations eventually. I used to want to kick them for statements like these because they might as well have said "Christmas is a weather" it might have made better sense. However I understand the good from the intent of their words,even if some said it without much brainpower. How many braincells does it take to tell somebody "Oh don't bother with things like that,don't let it affect u!"

So, tell me again, politically are u that moderate-sit-on-the-fence dude as well? Well, don't worry U'll be moderately blessed or moderately cursed if your choice of president turns out to be a moderate screwball.

Ah Seng

I was all frumpy,geeky and spectacled yesterday and went to meet my friend whom I fondly refer to as AH SENG. The guy was easygoing,agreeable and nice to a painful extent. He spent the entire day watching me eat,from my fritatas which I forced him to agree that they were great,to more fritatas and fried egg,the chinese scrambled way and chicken and then more chicken yet. He said he was too amazed and I said I was too dismayed that I had such a voracious appetite. All in all the man was super nice and let me embarass him a few times by hollering or exclaiming too excitedly whenever my eye caught anything. He said I was a curious cat. He might as well have said the sky was blue.

AH SENG loved spewing a bout of vulgarities in his lyrical,profane way. He was original,hassle free and resembled Shylock the ancient money lender from Merchant of Venice. Except AH SENG,our friend was more modern,he mixed his soothing vulgarities with a distinct fusion of English,Mandarin and Hokkien. This impressed me greatly since our world was advancing to such great globalisation that even our loan sharks were becoming multi lingual. It paved a very rich future for AH SENG indeed.AH SENG was skinny,and the mirror image of Popeye's girlfriend Olive. However when I said this,he threw me a murderous stabbing glare. I then cowered in fear,almost timidly to the likelihood that he might eat my parents for dinner or send me one of those facebook bloodied chain letters at midnight,or worse holler to every neighbourhood in town and tell them I was the one that ate up all the eggs in the supermarket and restaurants ect ect. I saw my convicted face in jail and the local paper and in this foreboding image,AH SENG's skinny frame waltzed by in a menacing way and for the life of me,I decided to only keep mum after that. AH SENG was thin but awfully strong. He excelled in gambling and enjoyed chuckling as he spoke about his prowess in Mahjong. I listened intently while being pleasantly surprised time and again by his revelations that he liked certain bands that I did, such as Dream Theater and rock music. AH SENG was gaining a foothold in my mind as an impressive and interesting individual and this is the point where I tell myself to praise him for his hardy and sincere ways. AH SENG,well done for being a good friend despite having a terrible hangover yesterday, U came to meet me regardless and was even tolerant of my ugly attire. THANK U chum!

Story

An interesting banter takes place everytime this particular person speaks to me. It's not exactly one of those brainless flirtatious repartee and yet laced with acrylic sacarsm, it had the tendency to put a wry smile on my face or at times churn guffaws, which I pronounced all wrong when I spoke to this friend earlier today on the effect he had on me. And yet after putting down the phone I almost always have to wipe that huge smirk or wide smile off my face because I would wonder why this toughnut guy would have a ready tongue in cheek answer at any kind of abuse,as he claims I hurl at him. Sure,if U consider my little quirky quips which were harmless and innocent as elegant abuse.The man however sounded like he had fun with his comebacks and my try-hard attempts as well, so well,I am happy so long as the charitable act of making others cheered is at my expense,it is A-OK. This reminds me therefore of a story I remember between 2 friends quite sometime ago. Yes,storytelling is the most entertaining part of Facebook,other than those excellent applications that I see are thrown to me by the throngs and thousands everyday. I recently became the biggest committee member of this facebook group that says " If someone sends me another application, Im going to eat their parents". I too am a loyal member of the "I secretly want to punch people who walk too slowly at the back of their heads" and a fond favourite of the “他妈的，你妈妈“group. Right,let me glorify Facebook before I get back to my story. I happen to love those personality tests they have,because I cannot stop finding out why I am so different in every test I take. I became Sylar,the serial killing psychopath from Heroes, Homer,who loves donuts, Phoebe from Friends,Ginny Weasely from Harry Potter,Alex from Grey's Anatomy. Oh and apparently I was a Saint according to the "How Evil Are U" test and I should live in Los Angeles because I am perfectly capable of stepping on other people's toes, and wow, I am a Guru when it comes to being a lover and a very playful kisser???? I love it. It's such a delicious load of nonsense I cannot help but take more personality tests. So yes, after I'm done taking those I become all happy and fascinated because I discovered an amazing new angle to my personality I never knew existed. I took a "What Kind Of Serial Killer Are U" test and immediately deleted it for fear that people will know I was that dude who lured Jews to his house and looted them,for fear that my Jewish friends woulf ignore me forever and stone me at the very next time they see me.

So,back to that story. This is by no means an attempt to be corny or cheesy,it is a story,someone else's life, not my pathetic attempts to write under a guise,even if most people did that.I am more creative trust me. The personality test has said I'm the colour red and am prone to honesty.There.


Boy and Girl were platonic friends. Are,I suppose,since they are not dead yet. Boy and Girl are platonic friends,but they have had this friendship since a couple of years ago when they first met under work circumstances and from hanging out in the same group of friends.About 4 years have passed since Boy and Girl knew each other and their friendship had changed or rather grown and morphed over the years. A few years ago before Girl left the country to pursue her studies, she texted Boy on the way to the airport that she might have secretly harboured a crush on him. He replied that there always were some form of sparks flying around,and Girl smiled while she walked into the departure hall.She was not asking nor expecting anything from Boy when she told him that,but somehow he seemed to reply in a way that made her like it and yet it wasn't something that U can scream or shout because anything was really happening. I suppose the honesty was a first step to a better friendship between the 2 friends.

Boy went on to date a gorgeous,drop dead as hell woman and Girl went on to date a talented,magnificient and sugar and spice-and all things-nice kindda guy and they led separate lives for a while,in loose contact.Girl returned back to the country on one occassion and hung out with the regular group and Boy was there,by this time,our friend Boy was starting to make waves in his career and Girl felt a little impressed and awed yet distanced from him. Yet,after the other mates left,Girl and Boy were left conversing to each other. They spoke,not in the superficial sort of roundabout style where U ask in 100 ways about the variety of summers they had in Singapore,since there were 10 suns in the skies there. They spoke and asked each other how the other had been,in that interested,really caring way. And this was the first time Girl told Boy about a tragic scar in her unhappy childhood. Boy also shared about his unhappy scar in his past and they absorbed the other's information with that kind of intensity U get when runners lunged for that first drop of water after a marathon.Or picture hungry gypsies edging each other out for that loaf of bread while the song "Caravan of LOve" plays softly in the background.

Another time Girl came home,it was a rainy day and she talked to Boy on the phone before a regrettable argument and misunderstanding took place. Boy thought that Girl was implying something when she talked to him about some trivial matter,they quarrelled and did not speak for an extended period. After a while Girl heard Boy and his beautiful girlfriend broke up.She was however still attached. During that period Girl hardly spoke to Boy,but on the times they did,they became acquaintances. However the gap was narrowed when Girl started talking to Boy again over emails and the use of agents such as Friendster and Skype. They had an uncanny form of chemistry which resulted in comical retorts and smartass comebacks. Every conversation was laden with a witty malice. They went to some East Coast prawn noodle place once when Boy told Girl that he actually did feel a special sense of connection between them. It amazed and yet did not amaze Girl. She subconsciously knew this and yet it was unmistakably surprising to hear it. In a way Girl was smiling when Boy told her that because I guess she felt that connection too. Eventually Girl also broke up.

Boy and Girl did not get together if that's what u were wondering about. They were still meeting up every now and then till this day as platonic friends who knew the other was a little bit special. Girl thinks that Boy however may have a hundred special other female friends and even though pride prevents her from expressing it,she felt a little of that nagging jealousy creeping up to mar her face with greenish colour from time to time. She felt like The Incredible Hulk. Okay,maybe not that Incredible nor biggish. In a nutshell this sinister attraction served to be a strange kind of tension sometimes becos Boy had a fiery temper and threw it around like a beach volleyball. Girl sometimes felt that she was always looking for the fire escapes in case Boy started another forest fire with his fury. He was angry with alot of things,and presently disgruntled with various aspects of his life.

I think Boy and Girl are such interesting characters becos they were mirror images sometimes. Like the saying like poles repel,come one day these people think they might try to hit a high note with their chemistry,they would only be tragic casualties of war,so they have decided to become each other's doppelganger or I suspect till that bird,"stork" i was talking about comes to kidnap one of them away.

Guns and Roses

After reading Dan's comment in my last note,which was a mini scene between two people, I had the urge to write something. What would our feminist Germaine Greer say to something like, "victoria secrets" and "lotion" being the remedy in relationships I wonder,especially if men were to buy them as answers to turbulent situations. Hmm, maybe the Wife of Bath might flash her very 'gapped' tooth in vehement agreement to a new set of lingerie and lotions. Maybe even Paris Hilton might clap her hands in glee afterall Victoria Secrets was the end-all and the be-all for women and I suspect unwittingly so for men and their pockets.

I suspect that since I am a little like an alien,or a 'ghost' as described by Maxim Hong Kingston in regards to displaced women or the "other-ed" category I might be bemused more than ecstatic when greeted with such an interesting reception. Maybe throw in a little more stereotype like a "Mr Darcy" character from "Pride and Prejudice" and a dazzling compromise of words after an argument with "Mr Darcy" winning his lady at the end of it all with a little coquettish twist. That, and an exquisite suit of the finest Fall/Winter design from Victoria Secret's latest lingerie coupled with one of those AK-47 babies from guerilla warfare would make an emblem of "Guns" and er roses from the lingerie.

I wonder if women can be bought. Oh,what am I talking about? Isn't it already a tale aged old? How about an order like, a "burger with large fries,coke and a girlfriend, on the side.Oh, supersize that, the meal,not the girlfriend mister!"

Sorry mail-order brides,I would rather spell "male-ordered brides."

The Lost

Boy: I won your heart yes,but I could not retain it. I won it and lost it.

Girl: Next time try stealing.

Boy: *confused* Why?

Girl: When U steal,U can't lose it. Only the one with the heart lost it. And when U,the robber eventually not manages to retain it,U didn't lose anything either,cos it came stolen.

Boy: U're doing it again. *sighs*

Girl: I'm not playing games,really. I speak truthfully from my heart.I still don't get why U said that.

Boy: Said what?Which part?

Girl: ...that U "won" my heart and u "lost" it. U did not lose me. I did not know about your feelings.

Boy: Of cos U did. I was always by your side. U would have to be a boulder to not know. U knew.

Girl: I mean, I knew but U cannot second guess someone all your life.

Boy: I agree,I could not tell what U were thinking mostly .

Girl: I mean I could not second guess U all my life. U did not make it clear, in the end,it became a "moment" that just passed, like that scene in "My Best friend's wedding" and they were in the gondola where Julia Roberts and her best friend had so much chemistry but they missed the "moment" and it was gone!

Boy: I am speechless.But, U had all these other people around u! I am not in your line U know,I don't mix with the flashy glamourous people all the time. I'm just a very simple dude.

Girl: *sighs* Let's not talk about this. To me it's excuses but I think U'd feel offended if I said that, so let's just bury it. At least our friendship is intact.

Boy: I...went through....I mean.. U have no idea what I went through for U. *shakes head* Why does it have to be this way?

Girl: I gotta go. Talk later or something,million things to do and my house needs dusting.

Unpacking

So,I'm just about the world's worst Mac user. Words like "retard","fool" and "dumbass" are flashing across my head as we speak. Someday I shall be the master of this computer,for now,I am looking at it with fondness and fear,at every second waiting for it to start speaking in a human voice bellowing at me. For being stupid. I know I know,learn how to use the Mac and I will love it. Keywords: attempting to!

I am cracking my head with trying to deal with some work and to clear my stuff from the boxes. Still. Wonder why a tiny girl like me seemed to own so many strange things. I realised that if I didn't know me, and was trying to find out about this random person from the boxes, I'd be alarmed. There were huge piles of dental floss in packets unopened,a million plastic spoons and plastic cutlery from takeouts I never used because I have always tried to be a nice person and love the environment. HA! Then,the surmounting pile of kitchen pots and pans. Yes,this girl is a cooking fanatic,she has to have 4 frying pans of the same size to make a point. ACTUALLY,I had not meant to own that many frying pans,I just realised that I fell in love with the latest one I bought and have been using that ever since. The previous ones were bought and never used for long because I always felt something about them wasn't perfect. Gee,just from frying pans alone,U can determine a person's anal-ness in their character. I am a soup brewer. I love parboiling soups and an omelette maniac. Omelettes to me taste great with monterey jack cheese, I love making them chinese style with the huge spring onions,or the western ham and cheese or scrambled with milk and the cantonese version of 3/4 cooked "Hwa dan" . I am an egg-pert."Egg-cuse me u have a problem with that?"

And then let's talk about the clothes. No,let's NOT talk about the clothes because every household has their "victoria" secrets and skeletons no,valentinos in their closet. Nada,Im not your brand conscious obsessed fan but I do have a few favouites here and there when it came down to certain things. I am not Imelda Marcos, because I have shoes and they are a decent number which I shall keep mum about,but nowhere stroke inducing. I do admit however that I cannot find any more closets for my dresses and clothes.I am wondering if people keep dresses with their pots and pans. Kidding.

I am a fan of films.Your slow arthouse independent movies coupled with the slasher flicks,box office,old school classics and just about anything. Most of the time,I only dig for the arty independent sorts because I like their "otherness" and takes on life.I love foreign films and have a penchant for exotic korean ones,french ones and even weird ones from Israel.

We shall leave my CDs and music out of this. Or I'd be talking till I'm 80 and still be half through with what I have. The pictures are the best things,I see how my fashion and styles have evolved over the years. To think that I used to think using yellow eye shadows on my eyes were cool. I was the walking jaundiced woman! And never had the clue!

The Stars

I am getting a hammock for my balcony. And I'll read there,and fall asleep under the stars. I'm also lighting the place with little candles, and because there's a little room right on the balcony,like an attic,I'll keep it as a storage room for little dinner parties.

Ok,maybe it's more of a rooftop than an extended balcony,or both.

Here's Looking At U Kid

I woke up with a smile this morning. Although it was cold, I scrambled out of bed and ran outside onto my huge balcony (which is essentially rather old sch, and can hold many future parties and bbqs to come) and breathed a breath of fresh air. I'll make myself happy everyday by doing everything with twice the optimism and energy,that way I won't be depressed nor be pulled downwards by unnecessary negativity! Immediately when I said that outloud,it began to drizzle and rain! Nevermind,I take it as showers of agreement and blessings, thank U God!

Yesterday my bro called me,he said he wanted to visit me! How nice!He asked me how the new place looked and when I explained that it had a hugeass balcony and was all old sch with my house being the top level,he asked with a little excitment if it resembled one of those kickass scenes in Hk movies where they had drinks and talked all day on the roof.I said YES! Bro said maybe we could even go to Hk, or Sh together, becos we had never travelled together yet! How exciting, an excursion with my bro! The dude who used to break my erasers into 2 and laughed in my face. The mad lad who used to trick me to telling people that being a "fool" meant being "smart". He would say "Look Lydia go tell everybody U want to be a champion, the other word for champion is F-O-O-L. Say it with me,U are a FOOL." And me with my ever trusting dumbass brain,would believe him out of the goodness of my heart. I think it is a universal legend that I was the happy mofo that went ard declaring my stupid moto. My brother is also unbashfull in my presence constantly proclaiming his genius to me. "U know that I am smarter than U 100 times right???" came the thunderous voice. And he would say "So,as a means of reward U may hold my badminton racket for 2hrs, but get me a glass of water first."

These days I credit my tongue in cheek retorts back to my bro. If I hadn't been trained that early I doubt I would have been so quick with my sacarsm! What he didn't teach me was that I should stand up to my aggressors. When people said horrible things to me in my face, I would just stand there and look shocked, and with my gaping mouth wide open. Stamped with the word "loser" on my face I would hang my head low, go home and bawl. It still happens, I don't know why I just have to be a people pleaser. I hate it really, intrinsically I just want to say to that numbnut who threatened me that she/he was a witch from hell and should sear and burn till the cows went home. Or be brutally sliced apart by Uma Thurman in Kill Bill. YES. THAT. Sometimes I feel I identify with her character so much. I am the mother of all repressed anger and scrounged into an enormous ball of fire.

If U unscolled me I think I would fill all of planet Jupiter with my repressed anger. I remember the doctor asked me if I was too stressed lately or too emotional and he prescribed me stabilizers which I threw away later. I had not wanted to rely on medication and decided to concentrate on having my willpower to take me through this. It did many times in the past.

I have not had a seizure for 2 days.:)

So

I told D I was quite ready to start working out and go to the gym again, he looked at me doubtfully and said I should rest somemore. But at the rate I am going I'd be writing 2000 facebook entries a day,and probably go nuts still trying to do up the new place everyday. I need to prepare for some things coming up, if I keep letting myself go,I feel weird lazy and very fat. It doesn't help at this point to add more problems! I need a new workout regime,I need to really shape up.

Working out helps sometimes to make me feel better. Whenever I had the stupid cursed cramps all women suffer from, I'd go to the gym and run like a freak. The blood circulation is better and even though I feel like chewing someone's arm off at the first few minutes it becomes a relief when I run over an hr.I know I know some of my friends think Im excessive, and I am indeed. Working out this much makes me a very hungry person indeed and I don't like how my ferocious appetite keeps making me crave and fantasize about food. Like I said,I swing from one extreme to another,sometimes when Im awfully upset I tend to binge. And mind U binge I did for the last few mths and it has been very disasterous on my body. I'm not bulimic so I don't binge and it goes down the flush, I have effectively gained so much weight it's horrifying. But most people won't believe me because I'm really small boned and I have awfully skinny arms. That creates the illusion of "thinness" and only the party herself knows where the fats were going to. Look,they exist and have to be SOMEWHERE. I feel like Im as chubby and cherubic as a newborn. And it annoys me. Because I feel that I have been slacking off on my discipline.

My good friends are all aware of this problem I face. Afterall when Im upset I don't take it out on an alcoholic beverage, I never liked drinking, although I was fasicnated with using wines as part of my cooking. If I had an inclination towards ciggies,maybe that would relieve the stress too, but nada, I don't dig the smell of smoke either. The only thing about me is my really voracious appetite after I started working out alot in the last few years. Whenever I was happy, I ate. Whenever I was unhappy I ate,and ate and ate and ate. I ate so much I would be eating and tears would pour down my face. This was when I realised one day that I was not eating because I was hungry but punishing myself. I became paranoid about myself quite alot and food became a topic I found slightly sensitive. I HATED people telling me to eat more,because they had no idea how MUCH I had been eating already.To list it out here would scare most people,even turn people off or U will not believe me but put it this way, at a given time when I'm really bingeing, I could eat a 3,4 men meal and still eat again later. My best witness to this is Dave, who became so alarmed he monitors my movements more often now.

Sometimes being too disciplined will lead to some sort of a disorder somewhere. No one is perfect and the distress in your body causes a person to actively want to self destruct,and I was perfectly aware of my problems. Just that I am trying everyday as it is to treat them. Doctors exist to help patients but at the very core of it all,we have got to want to be helped. And I think I do,I really do.

IN Trying Moments

I was crying one day because I met with an unpleasant incident over here and I called this dear friend of mine in Shanghai. He is one of those friends I have had whom I hardly see in a long time but I keep dear to my heart. This friend, is somebody who has such a pure heart and I feel everytime I talk to him,it was as though the distance never mattered. His younger bro is as diff from him as day is to night and I love them both. I think if U guys are reading this,U know who U are. I just wanted to say U are in my thoughts and sometimes I would be doing something and an incident or an object would remind me of U and I would miss U both. Isn't it amazing how some friends who are not close in proximity are just so reliable whenever and wherever they are?

Im lucky in that I have people like that. Another character is Mr Y who calls me from time to time after odd hours at 430am in the morning after he goes back from partying,knowing fully well I'd be awake still.Why? Because I have had insomnia for a few years now due to the depression. I cannot sleep more than 2 hours at a stretch and I always feel unsafe and scared. I think after SHE had cost me to lose that deal I just sort of became nuts :) literally,and even in my sleep I feel the repressed anguish brimming in me. I have not felt safe for a long long time. I have a small wish,and that is to sleep like a baby one day with peace of heart and mind.No more fitful and tumultous dreams of scary people, no more,no more. Sometimes when something good happens to me,I start wondering if it was real. I would feel petrified in that way as if I were to lose it quickly if I were just to blink or not concentrate hard enough. I guess,I became freaky after an accumulated loss of trust issues. But,having said that my mentor J told me that this was no one's fault. Trust,she says,is "earned not given."

I did not feel well just now,but I have to be well soon. I told the "angel" I would be perfectly fine soon enough and I hope I don't let her down.I must get well soon.Mentally and physically. No depression is going to get me down, Im a survivor!

Falling and Getting up

When I was in primary school I used to be healthy,really healthy and I jumped ard like a mad nut. I used to be this hyperactive unstoppable energy and I was curious about the world. When I reached secondary school, I started feeling sick during Physical Education lessons. I don't know why but I started having fainting spells. When I was in Junior College,I was sent in an ambulance to the hospital at least 4 times. I joked with my friend then that I travelled in an ambulance so often I felt I was way cooler than everyone else. It got to a point that even when I had my first performance on stage in a dance-si-cal GREASE! in JC that I passed out during the technical rehearsals. I remember my favourite teacher Mrs Creffield telling me that I was a strong girl and no matter how bad my health was,she thought I had something bright and shinny in me that came across as a strength. I don't know if she was consoling me,but it made me believe and have faith. I was grateful to her ALOT. I felt that she made a difference to my life. As did alot of other special pple.

I did not have a seizure today. Yet. But my bro and mum have asked me umpteen times to go home. Isn't it unfair?If I left now, would I not have laboured in vain? Would I not have fought to make my passions live in vain? Serene, U are one of people out there who have laughed and giggled with me from teenage years. We went to parties,we went and tried to form a crazy girlband,we went to all sorts of trouble with the Principal after our tryst with the school telephone! We even called Perfect 10 together!!!:) Serene,U and Jules,my other favourite hunny,and I had our first hitchhiking fiasco,that scared us to bits because U guys thought we were gg to be sold off and maimed or something. Serene,I called u Soully aka Soul-mate. I was so happy to know U were getting married. I was flying to see U, an U know how much U mean to me. It has always been funny every memory of U.

Im tearing I admit as I write this.

I never loved myself, not once. I wished and prayed to God since young I would die early. I guess I did it wrongly,I wasn't really praying to God but wishing heaps of curses on myself. I didn't have a happy childhood,but neither did many other people. I had deep dark skeletons in the closet,secrets,secrest,and

more secrets that I buried deep within the smiles and laughter I projected as the fool I was in school. I felt an intense loathing for myself and when I met Nandini and Eliza, they taught me during the teenage years how to walk with confidence,how to use little things to be girlish pretty. I learnt to not be afraid of pretty things. I used to choose things with defects,if U passed me 2 erasers, one with a chipped end and another whole,I would pick the chipped one. Why?Im sure it's obvious. Because of my overwhelming sense of unworthiness. But I was lucky,really lucky to have met people who loved me from their hearts. Like my good friends,they are real people who accept my weaknesses and embrace me even when Im not worth any of it,even when they are so caught up with their own things. And recently my brother showed me what the meaning of a brother was. I never realised how much my brother cared until lately. I just wished those earlier years had not been wasted in silence.

The "angel" has taught me what it means to genuinely care. These days when her schedule has not been easy,she still goes out of her way to ask me if Im alright. She encourages me alot and when I tell her I had another attack,she would say "Nevermind.We can try again." And I feel so much more consoled.

I feel so tired and afraid. I feel like killing myself every single day. I feel so sick,so sick,so sick,so sick. It's unbearable and I cannot do anything without the pain there. I sometimes just want to not do anything and sleep,just sleep on, like Virginia Woolf's wish to stop the heaviness,the drone. Or Sylvia's heavyhearted proses. I am not trying to draw references to suicidal writers but I identify strongly with these 2 women so much. I have never been cheated on by anybody and I think Im fortunate to have met the guys who accepted my flaws readily in those long years. And yet I have a deepseated sense of no selfworth, that makes me take flight sometimes without a word. I know I let all of them down because I hurt them when I left. I wrote one of my poems with the phrase "I thought of how I would leave me and so I left you."

But i did change in the ensuing years till now. Even though the unworthiness remain, I am wary of fake people and bullies. I am my own steward and now I don't cower and look timid when these perculiar worms snarl in pearly smiles at me. I have to credit this to my mentor and teacher J from LA and Mr T who helped me find my identity and my voice. I used to think I could not sing, and I dared not open my mouth to really sing. But when they pushed me to release the pent up energy within me,to unleash that anger and pain into strength, I really found her,me I mean. I found that girl who was in pain,who was afraid of playing in the sun, that girl who watched from behind the blinds in envy at others. I found that person who has a fearsome ferocious explosive energy. I am grateful to them and my benefactor CY who had so much faith in me these years since he first heard me utter the first syllable. CY tells me not to cave in to this illness. CY says to find the control I can attain of myself again.I believe I can find it too,and I will.

The Classic Idiot

It really annoys me when pple wish me Happy Birthday on my Birthday and I tell them, " Thanks,and happy birthday to u 2" in a reflex action as tho I was wishing them "merry christmas". And they'd look at me wide-eyed in a weird way like I had 3 heads and tell me plaintively that their birthdays were not in another 10 mths or so.

And.
I hate myself when I keep getting into scrapes and never learn from them. A classic example was yesterday when I hopped merrily into my friend's car thinking it was my friend and swiftly buckled my seatbelt like a straight A student only to stare into a complete stranger's face."WHO ARE U?" came the thunderous scream from out of my mouth as I thought of images of a planned alien abduction only to realize the poor guy was equally shaken as I was.

"Er...misss.I think...er...U got the wrong car."

Silence.Always the deafening damn silence to remind me of what a mofo I was.

And so I merrily scrambled out as I had scampered in,and tried coolly to walk with my head held high. What I had done was not wrong,I was just being a classic idiot.

The Ice Age

They were different pple. Then they met randomly,laugh, smiles,they clicked. They interacted. They got excited together,upset together, they fell in love.They were happy,romantic,interested.

They were upset,angry,quarreled.They kissed,made up,got closer, more passionate.They got excited together still,upset,happy,sometimes romantic,still passionate. Kisses.They got older,less excitable,less interested,less angry.They kissed the kinds u say hi/by on the cheek They ate in silence,got quiet,got bored,got used to it. They kissed.Farewell.

I am summarizing one of the stories i remember from this collage of short films starring Natalie Portman where I saw on the plane. It is so true,so realistic.

It's exactly what I mean when I think in my head yr soulmate stops becoming yr soulmate after U were too used to each other. Then u realized u did something wrong/or some near death crisis wakes u up. Other than that,pple just go on being mundane.How do we not lose the passion?Passion is something that isn't merely human-human interactions, how abt yr job or your child. Do u lose heart after trying hard and getting exhausted?

I like being in love but I hate being in love too. A friend told me this,that he wished he had not wasted so many r/nships because the soulmate he might meet eventually would have missed how innocently sweet he once was and those great moments had been shared with other pple. I can see where he was coming from.Another girlfriend told me she used to be passionate abt music,(now she was gifted,a concert pianist schooled in a prestigious college in the UK),but she had lost it after the years went by. No longer in love with music. She came out of it,the music path I mean.

I fear alot. Probably too much,and the biggest fear I have is to become numb. I have been there,it was a dull,melancholic place with nothing. Like empty pits,as dark as the abyss this guy called Eldred, a gd friend once described my eyes to be. Nothing. I felt nothing. In that state I was unstirred,immovable,like the Snow Queen story I remember when I was young. Like those humans cursed by Medusa's death stare,I turned to stone. But dealing with ice,is not to lose heart nor lose faith. In an icy person's heart,yes,we do contain one,lies a deep heated desire to want. U know what it is to be on the repressed other side?It means u're not contactable,when yr cell sometimes reflect the SOS calls only,no reception! When someone hugs u,u stare at them blankly. When someone waves at U,u make a feeble waving gesture. U no longer contain a need/desire/want for anything. It's death in a live body. But the colder u are,the more stored energy there is in your body. It also means U either sleep another 100 years or forever,or let the world continue to move on its own and never bother anymore.Your once interests in things like recycling and promoting help for little orphans become non-existent. U feel u could not help yourself u automatically lose heart and the right in helping others.

I have been there,a complete citizen with Infinity mileage. The ice broke.

Love and Passion is not cheesy,I used to think it was. U need that in your life. U need to love and be passionate about what u do. If u think it's ridiculous and hot air,U are also known classically as a skeptic,or halfway on the plane to Ice Age. U need to love and be passionate about that person,if they don't exist,U need to continue living your life with love and passion and they will appear. Nothing is for nothing. When nothing is happening,u prepare. That is life. U don't sit around with resignation and heaving sighs and hope for a girl to be thrown from above by God (guy X,u know im talking to u if u're reading this), u live vicariously thru yourself. Stop saying U live thru yr friends. Love,and learn to love. This is a process that U and I will be learning our whole lives because it is difficult and we un-learn it all the time,because as humans,we are automatically the village idiots whenever we get used to things. Unlearn and Learn again.:) This is a process most commonly known as Life.

2 is not better than 1

Me: They actually have green tea frappucino here in Taipei, how awesome is that? And apparently there's even a green tea latte.Woot.

D: Really?oh.*acts disinterested*

Me: Quit being so bored when U totally love the drink.Like hello,friend, who was the one who would die for a cuppa or that Sunrise thingy in Coffee Bean?

D: Oh well,I don't like coffee.

Me: Did U hear me at all?I said Green Tea and Sunrise,they are not coffee! It's just green tea powder!

D: U know it makes me feel unhealthy when I drink them now,I know I'll love them and get more of it,so I'll just stay far away.

Me: What?????? I can't deal with 2 of Mes!

iPOD?

2 friends and I were in a car going for lunch one day and an interesting conversation took place. Our friend Rick was driving,and me,disgruntled and hungry was sitting listlessly in the passenger seat and a bored D sat at the back of car clamoring to listen to some music. The stereo was faulty and Rick uttered helplessly about it being a hassle getting the repairs done.

D: *noisy,boisterously*

"Bored..man,am I bored. When there ain't music in a car,feels like something is missing.Arrgggh,grrrrrrrr.

.gaaaaaaa"

Me: *half annoyed,in a rushed tone*

"Pick,why don't u lend your iRod to D to listen to, he's driving me nuts!"




Silence.




Me: "WHAT?DIDN'T U HEAR WHAT I SAID?"

Rick: "I sure did. Look,the name is RICK, and I only have an i POD to spare,I'm afraid any iRods are not for rentals!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Rick and D looked at me in such a gleeful way while I feigned ignorance and pretended to sleep. Ah,sleep,the blissful end to all things embarrassing......

For my brother

U know,the one person that I first learnt to use the word "hate" on turned out to be the closest person to me in this world. Ironic?Definitely. Everytime I got into trouble, his sarcasm and lack of tact never helped the situation. It made me sink lower and lower and then I told myself someday I would laugh, no,snarl in his face and laud to him how I had survived him and became such a roaring success despite his initial curses since I was born.I had "hated" him then.

My brother was one guy u'd never know was my brother.Why? We were as different as night and day,heaven and earth. As much as I would have loved being associated as day and heaven,most pple would wag their little finger at my idealistic face and shake with uncontrollable laughter. Okay,so he was the good egg in everyone's eyes. I always said he should run for a political party or head for the Oscars with that superfluous acting! What a politician,that lad,with his squeaky clean public image;he was Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, who would torture me when we were alone. Now,my brother was a little clueless when we were little so much that he didn't understand why girls played with little dolls with pointy toes and dressed them up,undressed them 12 consecutive times and hrs later repeated the same motions unrelentlessly with relish of course. He tried killing my barbies with diassembling their limbs, or leaving them unfortunate victims of his maimed sadistic tortures. In actual fact,he killed me instead. The more I howled,the greater was his sense of satisfaction until there were no more dolls left to kill and he too got bored of breaking all my coloured pencils and beautiful erasers,yes,those with the extended rubbers u had to shave to use them.

Instead,he decided that I had to become a hardy boy,by making me memorise soccer matches and supporting his favourite Eng team,which of course was/is Liverpool. Now,my brother took his role as dictator very seriously. He made me watch this ancient program called "The World of Sports" and I had to understand and memorise the positions of key players, what mid fielders did and what strikers were. He also made me sit through absolute uninteresting matches where he would spend time playing my favourite board game RISK with his friends except that I was always banned from joining in unless all of his friends had to go to tuition or some cranky reason about them having to leave the country. One thing or other,I was basically the SLAVE,the victim and loser that had to bear his misfits.

My brother tried to play tennis in the house and managed to hit the chandeliers one too many times, until a few of the fragile bulbs that dangled once victoriously in the most aesthetic masterpiece became fragments of a flawed skeletal exterior. Except few pple, especially my unsuspecting mother spent time scrutinizing above their heads every few minutes so she never quite knew the difference when a few of those bulbs went missing. UNTIL one day when the most tragic incident that I had pictured in my head a million times happened. My brother's brilliant ways of gluing the bulbs back onto the chandeliers saved him from a lashing or whatever punishments my mother would have dished onto him except that one day,the unfortunate imbalance of the chandelier and probably due to some unforeseen gravitational force did him in. One of the bulbs tipped with such tangible fragility that it finally landed onto my surprised mother's head when she sat down on the couch to watch one of her tragic taiwanese soaps. Except the most tragic figure that day was my smartass brother and the most probable victim of brain damage from excessive laughter was me.

However because of him, I became such a different person. To this day,I still dig soccer and Liverpool,NBA and tennis matches. I also remembered how I had to stack Lego with him and listen to him reproach me on what a sissy girl I was because I did not know how to play Carem well. Indeed, most times when he screamed at me for being sissy, I would cringe and wince with such insult in a corner until I had enough and was back on my feet for more tortures. Eventually when the years did go by and I had met other normal,functioning kids, I did become more adapted to civilization and fitted in as another denizen of a once lost cause. Which of course was my brother's grand indoctrination of slavery upon me.

I remember how he did his first nice deed to me when he was posted by the military to Australia and Bangkok and he bought me mini tees. Because I treasured them so much, I would not bear to wear them and they hung precariously like white elephants in my closet. Later,he also started talking to me about movies and music and wow,conversations between my brother and I actually took place! It was a vast improvement from the commands that were rained down on me back then. And when I went out on dates he used to be bewildered at their lack of taste and constantly told me it was because those guys were either blind or I must have practised black magic and cast spells on their innocent souls. When things didn't go well at school or when I had fallen prey to some kind of troubled situation, or the enormous expectations my hard,unyielding nature would trap me in, he would throw tongue in cheek comments about how I had dug my own graves and countless "I TOLD U SOs". I used to be annoyed,even irate with that. But as time grew by, I found his responses to be amusing and even affectionate.

My brother does not scoff nor laugh at me in that scornful way now when things go wrong. He calls me regularly and queries about my health from time to time. He also started to quietly support me in my craft by playing my compositions and listening to them at times. My mother even told me how he once took my work with pride and allowed an ex bf of mine to listen to them. I heard it once from an ex girlfriend of his that he felt I was wise for my age and independent with an edge that set me apart. I remember how she told me that he said the four years apart between him and me became invisible sometimes when we discussed politics,business and even on humanistic issues on relationships. My brother also told me how he had simple wishes in life, and how it would make him very assured knowing I would be safe and happy. He started going out of his way with his kind and little gestures. When it was my Birthday or New Year's, he came up with reasons to pass me money. I knew he wanted me to be well and have enough wherever I was and this touched me deeply.

I talk to my brother frequently now, either on msn or the phone. When I had tales of ecstatic moments or exciting details to share, I would not hesitate to tell him. And he would say a few words not a whole lot because he was never loquacious to begin with but those words would mean a lot to me and right now, I am just marveling at how far we have had come since the days when we were little and he taught me to use 3 chairs and a blanket to build a makeshift tent. The other day when I talked philosophically about the melancholic possibilities of life and how transient most things were, he shared with me about picking the pieces of gold that formed the ultimate pot at the end of the rainbow. Yes, he taught me one of life's lessons and what I have overlooked in my hasty search for greener pastures. He reminded me of the treasures I have always had and am still assimilating, and suddenly I felt like I was so lucky, so blessed with a brother like that, and best friends around me who were so steadfast and loyal through the years.

I am so thankful brother. And,yes,he ain't heavy, he's my brother.:)

Thorough

When i saw u yesterday and u lunged forward to hug me,i crept timidly and let u hold my hands. U clasped my hands tightly,smiled serenely and caressed my hair. U asked me "Hey why do your eyes look so sad?".

I mustered a tiny smile for your sake,and watched the outline of the scaly long tubes that wound across your nose. I gazed into your tired dark eyes,yet feeling the warmth that emitted from within. Once again u said "Hey why do your eyes look so sad?"

The incessant chatter in the room,the ominous tubes that hung limply and flaccidly seemed to strangle my vision. I watched my eyes follow them into a blurred white patch and then they fused into the tear droplets that trickled onto my cheek.U saw the lump welling in my throat that mirrored your own and u asked "Hey why do your eyes look so sad?"

U tenderly handed me a typed written letter,8mths overdue from its birth and asked me if I have been happy. I nodded vigorously, and yet the tears kept falling, u chuckled slightly and squeezed my hands. U said "Then why do your eyes look so sad?".


For my aunt Cheryl who is battling her cancer every min now.

Tales of an impatient mule

I realise how impatient I am as a person when I was walking normally yesterday and wondered why my friends were so far behind me. They asked me politely and very sacarstically if I was perhaps on my way to my rebirth or if there was a winning lottery ticket about to expire in a few min. I also wondered lately why pple ard me seemed to not move quicker and are constantly waiting ard for nothing. That was when I realised that I had been sprinting,not walking and constantly feeling as if I had a million things left undone.

If that was not enough,I am the sort who will make tuna melts by standing impatiently in the kitchen where my microwave innocently sits and glare at it with a menace as 2 min slowly ticks by. Before I hear the "ting" my hands are halfway inside the microwave oven busy pulling out the tray. I also realised that I am never on the right side of the escalator rgdless of whether it be weekends and I'm out for a movie or weekdays when I'm late for an appointment. If U don't know this, in Tw,pple stand on the right customarily while the impatient pple speed by without fail on the left while using the escalator.I am also the sort of person who will call up the restaurant I regularly go to,and fluently order flawlessly off the menu before I actually get there with my friends. Of course when Im out for a nice fine dining meal, I would mentally check myself and force myself to quit dialling the familiar digits. And yes,I do operate on speed dials and know exactly how many apples I have left in the refrigerator before I get home in case I have to go out to get groceries again,which would be,yes,the understatement, a waste of my time.

I panic when my mother doesn't call me when she first reaches Tw a week ago and it was only an hr ago that the accused rung me and told me she had trouble finding a railway ticket from Tainan to Taipei.I think to myself,if she doesn't let me know when her exact arrival time is,I run a risk in not getting her a proper hotel room. So yes,a week ago,I had already done the bookings for her. And for pple who are as impatient as me,I tend to still have the conditioner in my hair running wet before I pour the shampoo over my head. And yes,u guessed it,Iam the sort of person who will use the blowdryer for almost everything such as my newly painted nails, or my er salad vegetables when they become slightly too moist from the fridge and when my microwave seems to take a million yrs to dry them. Exaggerated? Hell yeah. It does seem that long for the impatient pple out there, trust me.

I tend to wish I have wings most of the time,and that the lift did not have to stop at every level. I give the killer stare unwittingly when it stops at level 2 because for the life of me I cannot understand why a fit,able bodied young person with so much energy would not be able to WALK just one flight of stairs. Of course on an afterthought I think,he must be a war veteran at age 20 or a long distance runner for the olympics and he had just ran a race before deciding to take the lift at level 2.Mostly, I find my house in an artistic mess and will wonder why I can be so creative as to leave my dishes stacked to an eiffel tower like model before they become the once disintegrated twin towers. I then decide to buy paper plates and risk the wrath of my good friends who are mostly enviromentalists before I sorely succumb to seeing the familiar sight of the eiffel tower at home again. These days I stop stacking and I wash them as soon as I use them,because my mother is right. That way I finally realised what the bottom of my sink looks like,and it does seem refreshingly prettier that way.

I absolutely never join crazy queues for sales like MNG,mostly because I am one of the rare girls who do not buy Zara nor MNG,not because I am some Gucci-Cavalli hailing freak but really because the sizes seem to always fit two of me, and more importantly I do not want to be stampeded nor read an entire novel while watching the clock go by. However,u would be very surprised to unconver the startling facts of me that seme to juxtapose with everything I have had said so far.

I am a big fan of fine dinning and enjoy the experience of good food at a conservative pace.To me eating is a precious art that only the Europeans seem to understand perfectly well. I also love cooking lots of food for my friends and hold house parties, which involve alot of baking,steaming,stewing and par boiling. All these things would be fine but I also love marinating hours beforehand or leaving some things to be seasoned properly in the refrigerator the night before so as to create a more flavouful dish. I am also an arthouse fan and dig the likes of slow,really long films with an enthusiasm. I would completely glue my fixated eyes onto the screen and not budge for all 4 hrs if I had to, and mostly scowl when the chirpy tune on my cellphone starts pouring into my ears and whoever that chooses to press the wrong digits at that precise moment would meet his Maker sooner than he can say "botox"!Iam also the kind of person that would fly out of a car sooner than wait meaninglessly for the traffic to flow,mostly I imagine I am Icarus and I can make myself fly,that way it would be alot easier.I am also yr 10 sec shopper,because I always know in those few secs whether I will live to adore the item of purchase with longevity. I remember a guy friend looking so impressed when he saw me walk into a shop calmly and step out 10 min later with 3 bags full. Yes,u r right. I do not need to try them on,because I would know exactly how I will look in them. Usually when I go to return or change things, I procrastinate and think abt it with so much grudge that I never do so and instead, I find my friends gleefully waiting for my next wrong purchase before they can be sole benficiaries of yet another misfit.

I think I am such an impatient person,but at the same time I am puzzled at how contrasting I can be all the same. Until I finally consoled myself that I liked saving time and hurrying myself for the things I view as trivial, and minute for the other things I enjoy doing and wish to do,like writing abt my very impatient character ruefully like this on my Facebook or spending hours and hours at a store looking at sound systems or music instruments or CDs. I think to myself sometimes that I might actually be a guy in disguise but swallow my words even faster when I think of the years I would have seen gone by if I have had the wonderful privilege of serving for my nation,my country,my Singapore.

Bass, Brownies and Beastly Behaviours

I love Escape Club's I'll Be There. It's one of those songs that brings back so many memories. It has a sad edge to it,since the song was written for the death of a friend.I love songs with a gd bass,like With Or Without U,in fact I love the sound of a gd bass so much I'd turn everything down to listen to the bass. It has this way of making a song sound complete,and when I listen to music without a gd sound system or the bass is out or at karaoke when there's too much bass or no bass,I er.. go nuts.I would look mortified,horrified,petrif

ied and stupefied.

Probably any musical person would tell u abt their quirks. I hate listening to files pple send me on a laptop without speakers or gd sound blasters, or i totally TOTALLY detest it when pple listen to my work on a laptop without sound blasters or speakers.I tell u what it feels like,it is like going home on a hot summer day to enjoy that wonderful slice of brownie with yr fav vanilla icecream, sprinkled with almond flakes all over and realising in a heartbeat that there was only half a brownie left in the refrigerator because yr pal Jane decided to try for your sake if the brownie was poisoned. So now u're left, a poor wretch, with too much icecream and too little brownie and yet u can't say exactly that she deserved the death row because she did leave u half. Instead, u stand there with your quivering lip and dilated irises as u consider over and over if u should perhaps make your sad feet out to the same notable brownie store FAR FAR from home, with that familiar queue that hardly moves for the sake of yr insatiable appetite. And u actually mull over this for a good 9 min before U pummel yr head with your clenched fists and attempt one of those hair pulling sessions where in later periods u will look back on this with much regret. And u even wonder why pple go bald.

In a nutshell, love the bass,love the songs and yes,ultimately I am the sort that will still work my pathetic torso out of my doorway before I get to the store and concede to my human gluttonly desires. I find it almost affectionate when pple shake their heads at me, throw back their blond heads and shriek that I am anal.Well, I am. And a non dessert fan like me will only go this length for an experience because I simply cannot say no to a dessert like brownies with icecream and it HAS to be well proportioned! Hence,a gd song is deserving of the same treatment because of all the details and efforts, sweat and grime invested to allow the audience for a sensory experience. U get brownie points therefore for recognising that.:)