listening to: touch the sky
kanye west lupe fiasco

So the date has been set. I've never voted, and happily, it looks like this year won't be an exclusion. Do i care? Sure. Do i care as much as , say, how much my next holiday is costing? No. Because i know i will be called to exercise judgement which will be in turn utilised, which is more then i can say for the former.

Moving on.
Why are men so hyperchondriacal? I nod, and wince as J tells me about his pain, i plain well remember what mine felt like. Sometimes though, i wonder how it is that he's hit his age and is still so.....

J: I've told work to prepare for my absence next week. One week mc.
f: How do you know its one week?
J:All wisdom teeth extractions give a week's worth.
f: Oh..You already know its a wisdom tooth?
J: Dunno. Can't feel whether it's a cavity or wisdom tooth.
f: The whole area too sore, sweetie?
J: Not sure. Feels like there's no tooth left.
f: Isn't there a hole? Some sharp edges? If it's a cavity...
J: Dunno leh. Think have both a cavity and wisdom tooth.

It's like for every problem, they have to think of the worse possible scary scenario.
It's like when you get a cough, and ask me if i think it's pneumonia because there's a rattling in your chest.
Or the way you ask if i think you're having heart attacks.
Or ask me why you're feeling weak when you havn't had either lunch or dinner.

Sweetheart, i know you're in pain, and i'll hold your hand while waiting for you to go into the dentist's, but i'll still laugh when you come out drooling and wadded with wool.

Never date someone who causes pain on a daily basis. We're overated, and we don't come with the uniform.

Your Hidden Talent

You're super sensitive and easily able to understand situations. You tend to solve complex problems in a flash, without needing a lot of facts. Decision making is easy for you. You have killer intuition. The right path is always clear, and you're a bit of a visionary.

What's Your Hidden Talent?

Your Daddy Is OJ

What You Call Him: Pa Why You Love Him: He takes you to Disneyland

Who's" Your Daddy?

Bothering you, distracting you,
you swatting, you grunting,
Tickling you, bemuddling you,
you sighing, you pouting,

you forcing
me to desist,

i stealing
your note of bliss,

its always fleeting
times like these,
sweet just like
a candied lick.

i read once
and grin again,
your love lines
supremely sublime;
but 'forever', my sweet
don't you think
it's just another
divine myth?

your slightest look,
it seems will easily unclose me
though i try to close inwards
see nail marks on my palms

your softest word,
it seems will easily unloose me
though i try to pile layers
and read the book of psalms

writhing spirit,
who sees my intent?
who knows i'm a whore?
i've dreamt and i want more

my blood approves,
and imagination sings
then gravity my conscience remembers
i'm dashed upon barren ground

You know when you hear people saying.. I just fell in love with this person i met? Or perhaps they might say that the other grew on them.

"I didn't love him at first, i slowly learnt what he was like, and loved him, for what he does, for what he is."

I'm not quite sure what men say, because i havn't head them say anything besides saying that a woman is beautiful. It's like for them, that sums up everything; all the virgin and harlot in her, all the fragility or strength they think they see.

But you know what i think? I think that what they see corresponds to a deep seated need in them. All the love stories i've ever heard, right from the very first one, have made me feel that in a sense i will know him. I know its blind, going by feeling alone, but look at the smiling recognition of the blind man when tracing a face with his hands.

What if people never really meet somewhere, or just find each other somewhere auspicious; They meet again. They're in each other, have been all along.

That's what i think.

Food and sex.
Pratunam for seafood, patpong for entertainment.

A few days before while we were planning our trip, i brought up tigershows, and how much i wanted to take a peek.. It was only when a frequent go-er pointed out that it was thai girl and not tiger, that i realised how much singaporean pronunciation has damned me. I worried how i would state my intentions in thai about wanting to see, assuming that the touts would only approach the men. Shouldn't have worried.

Once down from the cab, the narrow streets were nicely split into two sides.. Patpong night market on one side and...



On the left were a string of neon lit signs. I was a little surprised it was so direct.. I always imagined a small stage with a awe struck audience. We paused to take stock of the area, and this guy came up to us with a yellow card which had been badly laminated (it looked exactly like a menu from those zhi char coffee stalls). Dishes were numbered, all starting with "pussy" and ending with "cut banana, ping pong, darts..ect"

This guy was good. After telling him we wanted to look around (yeah, we were determined to find the best or most explicit show), he pouted, gave a little cute tantrum, and proceeded to follow us the length of the street as we checked out the rest of the goods. When i got over my shock of seeing so apparently straight a man act thusly, i was able to pay proper attention to what was going inside some of the bars. We ended up going back to the first one because the sign was the biggest and brightest. Lol.

We trudged up a flight of stairs, and i felt much, much better as i saw a couple go ahead of me. We passed a lady in a booth who had nothing to say to us, and entered the place after another flight.

As we walked in, i was conscious of the lights on my white shirt, and and how the girls stared as we walked in. I was particularly attracted to one girl, but she only danced in the background poles. The rest..argh. There were fat girls, skinny girls, ugly boys who tucked themselves in so they looked like girls, dark girls, only two who looked fair and seemed to be chinese, all in unappealing bikinis. The show started, and we learned quickly it didn't do any good to be overly enthusiastic to any one girl. Or to any girl for that matter.. We saw streams of endless lights being pulled out, darts which burst from a dart holder thingy held within. We got a bit conned, and had to buy one drink for the bottle opener chick, but what's a hundred baht, right? It's good to have have small change though, because any excess here is immediately taken as a tip.

Bottle opener girl, or nang, sat on my left. She was very polite, and actually had quite sweet features. After complimenting her on her act (c'mon, anyone who can do that infront of a roomful of voyeurs..). i tried to ease out some tidbits from her, but her answers were so well rehearsed. Armfuls of gesticulating were our means of understanding each other.

"How old are you, nang?"
She thinks for a min. "18." This is said with a cheeky smile. I think she's older.
"Do you like being on the stage?" I point up at the stage.
She smiles, nods, and i decide not to press the point.
She asks where we're from, how old i am. I tell her to guess, not wanting to indulge her.
I ask if the bottle cap act is painful. I manage this by pointing to her, the cap, and making ouch sounds with a questioning lilt to my voice. Feel plenty spastic, but its interesting to see what i can get out of her. She shakes her head. Apparently, she only trained 5 mins to do that, and i feel the urge to ask if she practices in a room with all the other girls, but thank god i don't.

She comes back to sit after her act, but my interest has waned so after only a smile, i concentrate on the stage. She gets the hint, and charmingly excuses herself with her palms pressed against each other, held nose level.

Towards the end of the night, im feeling tired. The thai businessman and his two caucasian counterparts on my left are with the girl who blew darts and specialises in tweezer tricks. She looks really young, and the thai man is patting her tummy as i look over. I hear the first caucasian, an obese man who looks latino complete with frizzy big hair, ask her if she has a boyfriend or girlfriend. The second caucasian man pinches his brows and looks away. A while later, i hear a shriek, and she springs up from the chair holding her bikini top against her arms. She puts it back on, and settles inbetween the men again. She's quieter from this time on. When she's back on the stage aiming her dart at a balloon the men are holding, i see the thai man looking intently, his mouth open and i can see his thoughts flashing across his face. The lights illuminating his expressions, the girl on her back, heaving her darts in different directions of the room. She still has her bikini bottom on, but i realise she looks even younger when she's lying down. Heavy disquiet seem to have an almost tangible hold now, and i leave.

As i walk out, the girls wave, and ask for tips which i wave aside. I walk in silence for awhile, immersing myself in the markets of patpong. It's elbow room only at this time, and i notice a blind man walking slowly through. His tin is pretty empty, and i think to myself that perhaps its because everyone else has spent all they have on piracy and sex.

Our emotions are far from numb
Our engagements mean more than the sharing of flesh
As we open the minds of our souls and confess

Sitting across the table from you
There's no view of my behind
focus on my conversation
The collective thoughts of my mind

Intrigue is the theme of this murmuring well,
Where the passion that's shared
we both fail to quell.

listening to: better days
goo goo dolls

Have a secret to share?

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

listening to: dirty little secret
all american rejects


The other night i was in a room which was known to be..occupied, and i heard a loud noise which sounded like someone weeping. You know, when someone reaches that stage where they have no breath because of the intensity of the crying, and breathing makes a high pitched, indrawn keen during the inhalation ?

No prizes for guessing, i ran out of the room and waited outside the loo for chris to come out. Fuck me. I had no time to feel that spooked, it was pure reaction which propelled me out that room.

I walk around blind, believing in the painful adage 'vanity ( the equivalent of intellectual disability for me ) over death'.

There've been many times i've thought of enhancing my eyesight with surgery, but minor details perish that thought. The last time i tried contacts i couldn't get them out; it was only with the flood of desperate tears induced by a certain foreign object on my eyeball (ie: my finger) that enabled it to slide out by accident. Imagine if you could see certain things you'd rather not; say, the grime on the floor at a hawker center, or a morning after reflection in the mirror.. I was reminded again today why sometimes less than acute eyesight is great for sanity. For all the rest of the times, going bespectacled and lab coated suits me fine.

1# Walking down the street, i was suddenly blinded by a not so young woman who was sitting with her gold and silver shod feet swinging in the bright sunlight. Grabbing the arm beside me, we started together at the feet. There were... things.. jingling, shiny, plasticky things on the straps that looked like the ornaments on my tree. I stood humbled at that moment. Never will i laugh at some of things sold on the shelf, because i know there are people who actually wear them.

2# Offering extra large chewy sweeties around after a lunch, a certain male was having fun playing with the remnants of the sweet, rolling it around on his lips and making gastly faces. I stared at the sweet. It was green. The sweets i gave out were white. At least we all know he enjoys his dietary fibre.

Fine fine, forget about reading that last post already. I knew it was vague but i think i should delete it based on the number of ," What was that post about?" from those who knew what happened. If that's not a sign that there's something terribly terribly wrong with the writing...

This christmas was a bit non existant for me.. The mother asked for the christmas tree to be put up only to find that she had forgotten she had thrown it away last year. This year she and my father did a mini-lets-not-try-to-kill-the-plant-with-lights thingie, and it turned out pretty nice albeit a day before christmas. Everyone wrapped presents the night before, and i'm pretty sure none of us was into it. Shopping was so last minute i brought my stash to the christmas eve do at my friends place and did it there. Was a bit saddened by my fathers question to me.. I had laughingly told him that i knew i had inherited my wrapping skills from him when he asked if his prezzie was all right. Inclining my head and waiting for him to tell me what he meant, he continued and mentioned that he didn't know if i wld think it was good enough.. Frankly i wldn't care if i didn't get a tangible gift. Sometimes the ones that don't cost anything are the hardest to find.

New year's was novel, with a session at a friends place passed up in place of helping another with his sausages (hottie dogs) at the esplanade. I stood for 12 straight hours dealing with german wieners and smoked cheese, a rained out tentage that made wearing slip ons that much more disgusting, more onions than i have dealt with in my entire f'in life but it was not surprisingly, very satisfying. Te fireworks were *almost* amazing. Hobbling home with an assortment of balloons, lightsticks in a variety of shapes and a stray buns, i was happy that it wasn't an exercise in uselessness and forced bonheur.

It's pretty amusing but these weeks of festivity i've seen more couples yelling their lungs out at each other in public. From docile males who meekly follow an obviously pissed girlfriend stomping away, to small tug of wars to prevent one half from getting into a cab; it's all been rather heartwarming actually.

A few placid butterflies let loose, helpful directions from an observant doorman; a hop, skip and bright smile later, i was in the office. Smiling, genuine trainer is putty in my hands and his sales manager is introduced to me a while later. After about an hour, i have all the information i need. He is shifty and eager to pounce on my lack of knowledge, but my eager intentness seems to make him want to seem more knowledgeble. Why do men always assume women wear their emotions on their sleeve? I'm shown round the office, and mental notes are taken.

Leaving and patting my bag, i smile demurely at him as he sends me on my way, insisting on walking a short way with me. A short while later, some long awaited information is passed to another sales manager, from another company.

Fact or fiction?

Interesting times :)

When my fingers are poised above the keyboard, somehow blog paralysis just sets in. Bits of what i want to write about seem to be painfully inadequate for sharing. Scattered thoughts, fit only for mulling over to oneself.

Like how i would have liked to write about leaving the house before lunch. It's rare enough, god knows typically i wouldn't be caught dead walking out in the sun at that time with the throngs in town. The sun beats down, people squeeze, heat makes your neck feel slightly damp, and it's impossible to get a cab. Not that day though.. I took a train with w from the east, and walked from city hall to clarke quay.. My moans and groans were cheerfully ignored with perky comments about how nice it was to be out without having to work, how the weather was nice and slightly foreign because it was rather cool; a particular brand which had extra menthol was pushed into my hand to keep me happy like the world's thinnest pacifier. And as i walked, i noticed that it really was beautiful. It was cool, the air blew into my shirt and out the hem, making w laugh, and keeping me mild. We settled for merchant court and sat outside, savouring the smell of kebabs and strong coffee which whafted across from the little hut in which a chef was having fun with his tools. Mmm. Oh. And i took a baby for a walk by the river. First time, and scarily it was quite at ease on me. An entire person, nestled between the curves of my front, toe occasionally kicking my belly button. I've never had my hair eaten before.

Or i could talk about friends leaving for another land, and though laughs and promises to meet up when-ever where-ever abound, you just know it isn't going to happen. Not content to leave in ones anymore, friends now leave in two's, promising to send pictures of kids, house and hopefully bigger car if i don't plan on visiting anytime soon. I always wonder if i'll ever leave.

I've realised suddenly that angel and i have truly moved on and that it'll be the kind of friendship where overnight stays won't pose a threat anymore to anyone.

Had my first financial 'betweeen a rock and hard place' dilemma. Just your usual run of the mill unexpected, urgent, deplete your christmas/festive budget /bonus situation which has aged me a little. Nothing more makes you feel so trapped, i swear.

December always has me contemplative, and all i have to show for my ruminations is tinsel from the keyboard. The user before me has very creative AND extremely stiky fingers.

And today in line with how i feel.. pictures of the world's ugliest dog. I would have put up pictures of myself before morning coffee but i didn't want to scare you. The first time i saw his ugly mug, the first thought that struck me was that it looked like a species of hellhound. Hello Sam!



Nono, he isn't outwardly very diseased, he just..is.

Here's a quiz for you. What is Sam? (courtesy of http://sam-the-man.net/)

1. A cloned experiment gone wrong
2. A lawyer
3. An Alien
4. A deep fried hotdog
5. Your ex-girlfriend

And this is why you shld never feed one after midnight. Seriously though, sammy is a pedigree chinese crested hairless, which is more than i can say for myself.

What the hell.. Are those knuckles?? Anyway, the owner's dress sense gives allowance for her taste in dogs. Its a little bizarre. Apparently this little guy has to have treatments of an acidic formula to clear away the dead skin cells every few days, and his mommy squuezes his blackheads for him.

Sadly, he has since passed on, with many mourning his loss and questioning the ideal of beauty. Rest in peace sammy.

Was I bewitched so by a thin red line
To notice not that time released its hold
And let snip the silver twine
taking sweetest youth
isn't that the gospel truth?

When you watch love stories, it's easy to go along with the dreamy theme. Youth brings with it the beauty of the body, innocence and and a beguiling enthusiasm. Think unjaded bright eyes and boundless energy. Wasn't it always the easiest to fall when the object of your affection had the lines and style equal to that of a luxury car , or the manner of an angel perhaps?

Sometimes i think of my patients, what needs to be done for them; then i look at the other half and feel ashamed that i could never bring myself to do that. Not because of a shunnning of what needs to done, but a fear that a familiarity this much and this great would kill any intimacy and even respect that's left. It's not a fear of wrinkles, or the lack of a few functions, but total dependency. Think the most basic of needs. Its the total antithesis of what a man or woman should be like. For women because they can't serve or satisfy, for men because they are more helpless than a babe and women will never be satisfied if they are in a prolonged situation where the rules are reversed.

What i would give, to feel even a half hearted willing for this.

Discipline, where no one notices, has never been my big thing. In the fullness of a particular kind of companionship, somehow writing palls :)

So i was reading one of the reviews in the papers about the exorcism of Emily Rose, and it was saying it was the scariest movie in town? No shite. I caught it during a sneak about 2 weeks ago, and i felt slightly mad (schizophrenic, like) after watching it. Typically it's the korean, or the japanese cheap frights which get me. When was the last time you were afraid?

About 2 days later at work, i was feeling slightly off and so, encouraged by colleagues, went for a lie down in one of the rooms not currently utilised by any of the volunteers. This was late, about 1 in the morning. Taking along sheets and blankie, i made myself comfy, and drifted off almost instantly. Some time later, i thought i heard someone come into the room. Not being sure if this was just another vividly lucid dream, or if i was in fact awake, i waited for a while to see if the noises came to a head ie: i see the reason i heard noises. I didn't see anything, so i tried to sit up. It seemed like my mind was awake, but my body wasn't, and so i had no choice but to continue lying. I didn't see anyone come into the room, but i did see the edge of the screens i had pulled round my bed for privacy move slightly. Squinting in effort, trying to shut aside the blurriness of sleep, i could only see the curtain being slightly tugged, as if someone wanted to peek at me, but let the screen fall back each time, only to try again . I tried to lift my arms to grab ahold of the cot sides to pull myself up, but again with the haziness of sleep or dreams, i hadn't the strength to. The last straw was when i heard bells chiming. Whoah.

The chimes were light and sweet, and rather than add to the intensification of fear, i was filled with a sense of urgency which helped me struggle to wake/sit. I told rach, a peer, what had happened, and she put it down to the bloody show. For those of you who watched the movie, the time i woke was 3.10am.

The next night, i told a friend what had happened, and she asked which room i had been in. I told her it was the 'green'. She smiled, and told me never to sleep in either the 'yellow' or 'green' room. Apparently she can see things, and see she did in those two rooms.

Wussy people shouldn't watch horror movies, and i've vowed not to anymore.

Damn.

vegetated

Its incredible, but im hooked!

I've been vegan for 4 days! .

!!!

If you realize what a meat and potatoes girl i was, and compare it to the fact that now i juice for breakfast and look for vegetarian establishments that are out of my way.. I look for organic options! How wierd is that? I've gotta let you know it feels incredible. Seriously. The only hang up is when i attempt to whip up something for myself in a self righteous fit.

One morning i tripped down to get supplies for recipes that i wanted to try out and ended up with all sorts of eats in my cart that still had clumps of soil on them. When i pointed this out to my companion, i only got a disgusted look, and an admonishment. I was exhilarated though. This must be like what shopping feels like for some women. You don't simply up with an article, you end up with potential!

I got back and decided to start on the chives first because they looked the easiest to handle. I managed to get a good look at the soily roots, and instantly my imagination went into overdrive. Did you know, that chives have hollow leaves which look like fun for a myriad of small, women hated bugs? Thank god no maggoty creep or other miscellaneous crawlies were found, and i made my first organic salad. Or first salad, period.

Sometimes, the most satisfaction can be found in the simplest things.

molten martini's.

honey vodka.

gotta love it :)

Tempt me.

How's the house/room hunting coming along, you ask?

Fine, so you don't want to know, but i want to talk about it. It's been mostly fruitless. I posted a bulletin on friendster to see if i could find any lobang* for cheaper rooms, or better locations. One of the replies was about a hdb room, with 3 guys already in situ.. Hmmmmmmm....

These men tend to travel alot, so that is already a plus in itself but... 3 men? In uniform! And those cute caps! I ran to get myself a cold drink at this point. Gosh. I sat and pondered with my hands gripped on the mug while various futures flashed before my eyes. Wow. I'm wondering if most women think the way i do. It'll be great to have people who keep as bizarre hours as i do, and i know at least one of them is incredibly entertaining but..

I call and tell my best friend about it. I'm promptly told im crazy for even considering. Im told to imagine a bachelor's pad multiplied by 3, the ideas they'll ( they're men, what. Anything in a skirt in the morning, right?**) get, the inconvenience i'll have..

Sigh. Thanks for the offer though. You always did know how to tempt me.

*loophole
** moot point because if they knew what i look like in the morning, there wouldn' be any temptation. Period.

yer slip's showing

Listening to: one thing
finger eleven

Settling on a dim sum place, we settled in to looks from the other diners.

I seldom have cause to dally in Jurong unless its for the science center ( i loved the omni theatre and science centre), and just as the westsiders looked strange to us, so we eastsiders.. you get the idea. Don't want to get picked up for zone prejudice, so i'll move on.

They had quite an interesting aray on that menu, i have to admit. Too bad my scanner isn't working, i still have a bit of menu with me :)) They had amongst other things:

• number 32: fresh crap balls
  
• numer 28: Assorted chicken/fish dumpings ( wrapped in translucent, skin thin coverings. Rather good)
  

my bad

We went for french movies at cineleisure on halloween, and the nice boy behind the counter endured my coughs and smiles.

" Ayah. If you want to laugh, just go ahead." he deadpanned. I reassured him that his makeup was entirely too freaky and told him it looked exactly like a really really bad case of acne. Very scary. He started patting his face, and asked if his makeup had melted on any part.

oops

An ode to fiona.

Came across my sister's post in her blog tonight. They've been many, that she typed just knowing that i wld read it, but this one is the last i'm willing to gloss over. I won't post it here, because i have no desire to look at it anymore. Nor at her mein. I burst into tears at work (no one was around) when i read it, because i didn't do it. I waited to tell her, because i didn't want to have another argument, i didn't want to nit pick. I now know that some things have to be proved, and i wish that i had done it the instant i had saw it.

When was the last time you wrung your hands out of sheer helplessess? Talking about it won't do any good, and you'll never get a chance to make her think, because she doesn't care, and she doesnt want to see. She can type anything on her blog now, because it's lost one reader forever. In fact, her life has lost one reader, pretty permanently. Some people say things out of anger, and some out of loss of control. Others, like me, say things out of self preservation, and in doing so, they mean every single word.

Suffice to say, i've never known anyone so full of malice, nor of spite, nor this vindictive. I've never had anyone offer me to take something from her hands, only to drop it in front of my face when i was about to take it. She wanted to prove me right when i had called her a bitch. I was so numb that night, it was surreal, like a scene out of a bad movie.

Suffice to say, she wouldn't care if she was wrong, nor acknowledge that i had no cause to lie.

Suffice to say, till today her behavious is akin to the girl who used to pull the rug out from under me just because. Some things never change.

Suffice to say, that she won't give a damn if i just walked out of the house.

I'll give her that pleasure she craves so much. Hopefully when i'm no longer in the house, perhaps she'll see that she makes mistakes, just as i do, simply because there'll be no one else to blame. Maybe she'll realise, but then again, i never kid myself.

No more conversations, no more explanations, no more anything, because the end of the road is here, and i'd be a fool to go near you. You win, i'm moving out. And it's because of you. You can thank your lucky stars tonight and have a celebration with the computer, all by yourself. Consider it an christmas present in advance. Im sure it'll bring you a little closer to a religious experience considering your immense gratitude.

Tossing and turning, she couldn't get her thoughts to quieten. Breathing a sigh, picking up the phone which always lay next to her pillow, she restlessly scrolled down the list of numbers and decided on one. Within an hr (she wasn't in the mood to go glam), she was dressed for drinks, and she was happy she didnt have to try to force sleep to come.

She spotted her friend, Cathy, waiting for her when she reached the taxi stand, and arm in arm, they set off. Cat, to introduce her to the new bf, and herself, simply contented to have something in the stead of another sleepless night. It felt good to be out, with the cool night air against her skin. Introductions were made, and she smiled politely, nothing that most of them were almost gone in drink and talk. Cat's new found play mate was handsomely chinese, with that dimple on his left that was always gushed about. She would have been very thoroughly charmed by him, if not for the fact that cat had not 10 minutes ago remarked it was a good thing he was good looking, because that compensated for size.

Swirling her swollen, split, lychee with the little red stirrer in her glass, she settled back into the sofa. She wasn't interested in conversation about someone's exploits at the tracks, nor was she in the mood for politics, office or otherwise. She was just there to spend time, to be occupied, to drink. Holding on to her martini, she started talking to first a female friend of cat's; all yuppie posturing and perfume, then to the boy across her table. Pleading a need of the little girl's room after a while, she excused herself and walked out, intending a few moments of fresh air. Walking to the river view, she leaned on the bannisters, and closed her eyes.

So lost, so restless. Who wasn't? Everyone she knew was looking for a miracle, looking for a way to self actualisation, looking for a way the world dictated as worthwhile to pass life by. Lost in her thoughts, she jumped as someone brushed a warm hand against her wrist. One of dimple boy's friends. She smiled, but wasn't rewarded by one of his own. Instead, he drew her in, slowly, with his intuitive comments, and his frank intelligence. She found herself laughing at his dry humour and he very nicely offered her kleenex to wipe her tears. He asked why her mascara hadn't smudged yet, and she was pleased to see him nod in approval when she said she hadn't used any. They went back in, and he sat next to her this time. She was in a much better mood after this, but all too soon dimple boy had to go. She looked at cat, recognising that she would go with them as well; she wouldn't stay with a group of almost strangers. Dimple boy could send her home, or she could simply cab it.

She was a little sad, realising that he hadn't yet asked her for a way to remain in contact, but she would rather flash granny beige undies than to show what she was thinking. She contained a smug smile when the object of her attention stood up, declaring that he would go as well. As the four of them made for the exit, cat turned and smiled at dimple boy's friend. She watched, perplexed. It was a secret smile, one that she wasn't privy to.

"I stay in the east, i'll send you safely home", he said with little smile and a slight tilt of his head. It wasn't a question, it wasn't a demand, it was stated matter of factly. With a delicious shudder, she realised that here was a man who was used to being in control. As they got ready to drive off, he leaned close. He leaned over the gearbox and murmured that he liked her perfume. He had noticed by the riverside. She took a deep breath and thanked him. Such a simple gesture, so effective for making the proximity of a man's body known. They listened to buddhabar in the car, stopped for mineral water for her and mints for him, and talked about Klimt's women in his paintings. As they made the turning into her estate, she noticed suddenly there was a glimmer on the floor boards, partly occluded by the mats. A glimmer of part of a dangly earring.

She looked at him. He smiled at her, not knowing what was going through her mind. He probably didn't understand why she pretended not to hear when he asked for her number, but he probably didn't know about the sudden tightening of disappointment in her abdomen either.

The earring could have been just a friend's, or it could have been a wife's. It could have been from that morning, or it could have been from a month ago. Either way, she was too tired to play any game, no matter how minor, no matter how imaginary. Thanking him for the ride home, faith closed the car door quietly, and started her walk home.

The whole world knows im the most graceful klutz in the world. I think i've mentioned that an embarrassing incident is way overdue, and i always (almost*) keep my promises.

I've been trying to do something about my maniacal laughter. Similarities to the faultless ass are getting a bit too close to home for comfort, and on fri night as i threw my head back back to laugh at someone else, karma dictated that this time i carelessly throw my head against the handle of a pushcart with all the force i could muster. Helpful hands hurried to comfort my head (Yes. it was painful.. Do i really need more hands pressing and rubbing my now slightly lumpier crown? Thank you, your concern is admirable.) I brushed concern away, feeling foolish at the cause of all this attention, and changed the subject. 3 days later, i ponder over the dull headache that has stayed to keep me company. Yesterday it invited nausea which subsuded after a bit, thank god, but if you don't hear from me for a while, you'll know why.

I called k for a spot of sympathy, bemoaning the fact that i didn't want to become more of an imbecile than i already am, and he tactfully reminded me that this kind of trauma to the occiput (back of the head) would keep me bright, but also possibly quite blind. Aww.

Someone else recommended an MRI, which is, in faith speak, simply a scan that shows the density of tissue and miscellaneous matter. In other words, if the pretty colours of my brain seem to be more abundant, it could mean it has swelled, the secondary cause of which is due to unbecoming ladylike behaviour. Free lancing has left me bereft of a nice, private room in the hospital in which to endure tests free, so i will just cross my fingers and hope the headaches go away. If in the meantime i forget excessively, or seem a bit subdued, i apologise.

i write of
love,
dreamed
oft,
scoffed at
by microsoft.

Damn windows xp. I was typing a letter to you when i got the *blue screen of death.



*it pretends to want to return to the original page by asking you to press any key, but it always lies.

listening to: warning shots
thievary corporation

Last night was upsetting on two counts. The whole evening wasn't entirely marred by them, but i took the two home, and i can't stop thinking.

Work these days has been fabulous.. Have you ever exchanged coy smiles with someone over a little secret, presumably something only the two of you know? An innocent touch becomes a deliberate one, one that is all the more delicious for being so scantily veiled in intention; you notice little details about your leetle darlink' that are remembered when you are alone, and replay comes so easily. During our night at work, we shared an empty room for our break which ultimately lasted 4 hours.Too bad i fell asleep before anything could happen. Ooops. We were just talking. What were you thinking?

This morning i saw dede looking at me with a strange look. A small frown, with a slightly bitchy sidelook. (Indian, what.) It's plainly a measuring glance. She's never looked at me that way before. She knows.. Didi's a nice, godly girl whom i like, and she's the best friend of my psuedo playmate. How could she not disapprove? I feel a little sorry that she has to know, but one's orientation is not exactly chosen. it's given. i didn't have a choice. What can i say? I'm only sorry that these things are stereotyped by someone whom i treat as a good friend. A person can go to church, and want a personal relationship with god, but it doesn't mean that she has to be perfect in the world's eyes.

My little distraction at work was just that. A little later into the course of the day though, i received a msg from someone whom i've been spending alot of time with. I won't go into detail, but im so utterly crushed. Time and time again i've been terribly disappointed by this numbnut. Men can be so tactless without meaning anything. Why are they so incredibly, fantastically, irrevocably dumb? Surely they need something more solid to stand up to a woman's unreasonableness?

I should have been born a feminist butch.

Why, why, why??

Listening to: before today
chicane

Came home to find my room cleaned. My mother again. I'm so sorry..you didnt need to do it. You didn't need to tell me to eat before i left for work. I can take care of myself, to a reasonable extent, though not perhaps in the way you'd like.

I wish a better daughter had "happened" to her. I wish she could have had a more pleasant life. I wish it could have started out differently.

All i can give her are my subdued responses, to her ever more apparent, and giving gestures. My father once told me, that as he grows old, sometimes all he wonders is if he was a good enough parent, and if he will ever know that he was. All that goes through my head, is that both of them are thinking this almost constantly. A sense of resignation must have overcome them by now, and i cant understand why i dont have an an answer. The only thing i know is that my behaviour doesn't warrant any perfectness from them.

Do you ever wish you were a better person too?

Listening to: lay your hands
simon webbe

Do you ever get the feeling that you're getting left behind?

I love animals, i'm all for self esteem but..really..

prosthethic animal testicals?

Surplus

I read a recommended blog, and it was, for lack of a better word to describe it, a blog exclusively about sex, sex, and more sex. Second time this mth someone has pointed me in the direction of one. Kink in the kitchen. Contortions in the car. Bliss on the balcony. Conjoining in the mile high club. Ok. I havn't read anyone writing about that one yet, have to admit ;)

I passed on the reading. Not because im a prude, but because, in recent times, there just seems a surplus of these floating around. Is it my imagination, or are most of these bloggies written by the women? It's like pornography. When you first start, you lap everything up, then you slowly become more discerning, and finally, it takes a special something to make you put that clip on "continous replay". Is it for increased readership? Is it because they enjoy nothing more and are nymphomaniacs? Or do they just enjoy the pleasures of writing and not feeling archytyped by our very singaporean culture, being able to give their explanations and reasons for everything? Posts on especially interesting encounters would be something; i wouldn't say i promise never to write about those provided they're not so vanilla that the next thing i do is check my mail when i should be excusing myself to my bedroom.

I'll admit it takes someone inspired to write about these tantalising encounters and the associated every post time and time again and not sound boring..

This isn't a rant and im just musing, but i wonder what the percentage is like when we talk about female readership of those blogs. I have nothing against them, but as a man, don't be surprised if i don't froth at the mouth each time i find a new sex blog.

Please. The word i'd like you to use on me is discerning. And no, prudes don't make men blush.

Listening to: illusions
chicane


You know how friendster has added another option for the status of relationships? Now another option lets you tell everyone how confused you are, with the option of announcing that "it's complicated".

Am i the only one who gets seriously annoyed by this? Is this a cover up to avoid telling people you're single? Fercryin out loud.. How difficult is it? If you're attached, both parties acknowledge they're in a relationship. If one is unable to say for sure, doesn't that mean you're single? It's the other person's price for assumption if he gets upset. It's a yes or no thing, with some slight variation in shades in between but nothing that one cant cope with, right? If you're dallying with someone, but he hasn't asked you to be his gf, it means you're still single. If she's kissed you but hasn't talked to you since? You're single. If you regularly fuck each other , but you don't watch movies together? You're single!! What's so difficult?? Emotions are messy, and people can be attached to each other but it's mutually exclusive from being IN a relationship!

What's up with this?

Squat-ed.

I'll be a little sad when the squatters at changi beach have all gone. They never made a nuisance of themselves that i saw, and helped us with a birthday surprise for a friend when we couldn't physically be at the site all day.

Strange. Even without saying a word to most of them, i have a feeling the beach will be lonely without their presence.

Listening to: a little respect
eurasure

Tried posting some pics up; but this being the third time, and all for nuts have decided to settle for cursing blogger roundly, but softly and meekly in my corner of office.

1.
Quidam. Cirque du Soleil's latest offering was what i had been looking forward to for mths, but by the second act i was wiping tears away. Tears of sleepiness that is. The acts were there, yes, but it looked like they had peetered off from the original dramatic, eye widening and gasp inducing ones, to something that any trained gymnast could do. Fine. Some of the acts were worthy of the price, but maybe only two out of the array. i couldn't bring myself to stand for any ovations, as did most of the crowd. Liked the bag from the girls, and i'll be keeping the card forever :)

It's a bit sad, but the red shoes afterward was so much more entertaining.. Joining yet more of the throng at cineleisure after playing warcraft for a bit, we decided to catch (yet another) korean horror flick. I'm not one for taking much notice of names, but Kim Sung-soo is a rather dishy specimen. Kim Hye-soo, the female lead is seriously one of the better asian actresses i have seen, being able to act, and look versatile. Plus. She's a sex kitten in waiting. Apaprently the version i caught was a bit moralistic because steamy scenes were cut. Cencorship board, C'mon! There were no nudies, so what makes you think your audience hasn't seen it all? Moving on. Oh. On a side note, this show has one of the ugliest little girls i have seen acting. Right.

2.
Tits, boobies, jugs, hooters, funbags, bazookas. Who reading can lay claim to touching augmented ones? Oooh- i can, i can! Just thought i'd mention it :) For the benefit of those who've wondered if they're rock hard, and look real, here's the low down on how FAKE BOBBIES FEEL.

They do point at the ceiling, the pair i saw must have been done quite some time ago because scars were visible (very), slanting directly beneath the curves. If she had waited, she could have chosen the incisions either under her arms, or via the areolas.

They were perfectly round, both of equal size, perpendicular to the ceiling :) At first i was slightly apprehensive because i kept envisioning lin chiling's saline burst, but they turned out to be..uh..slightly more malleable. Im sensing thats a wrong choice of word.. They moved around, but very much limited by their firmness and size. They were not that hard, but felt like a very distended balloon with padding on top. Slightly yuck.

3.

Here's a question. If you knew that in your workplace one of your clients was a paedophile, would you let him get away with it? To my great disgust, apparently one of my subjects (a caucasian middle aged man whom i was uncomfortable being with right at the very start) was noticed surfing child porn. in the common room. When i asked if anyone had done anything about it, colleagues just shrugged and mentioned the site was now blocked on the shared computer. I mean.. my god! No one had given him even a verbal warning.

This is a man, who has no fixed address, and goes often to thailand and vietnam for business trips! Do you have any idea how prevailent child sex is there? Imagine if you will for a moment. He comes in every 3 mths to to the unit for easy money. He goes off for trips after. Repeat. We're indirectly supplying him with the means to fuck little children! Can't do anything about it now because i have no proof, and no one seems comfortable about even talking anything about it, and he's not at the unit now. I urge you..please please.. if ever a similar situation is in your control, do something about it! one voice, no matter how small, and how insignificant it is, might help destroy the fallacy that harmful social deviance in public goes completely unpunished..

Listening to: Mr super market produce putter-outer
Bud Light Presents Real Men of Genius (Real Men of Genius)

I'm sure it's not just me. With some people, very few, i get tongue tied, feel like everything i do is insufficient. I swear this foolish grin comes on, and i feel like a dumb block of grunts *grunt snort grunt* , while the other is lightness and wisdom personified. Not quite sure why this happens, and i can't remember when the last time this was but tis happening again at work. I guess the good thing is that i do respect this woman, which is a rarity in itself. How on earth can you know you did a good day's work and yet go home feeling crappy? The power of a person's good natured rib.

Was stepping out of the lift, and who did i walk into but Mr smiley painter man who watched me walk up to my house door sheepishly. Not only does he know what i look like topside now, but he's got to see me in the flesh (theoretically a bit less of the flesh, more of the clothes) trying to sidle past his bloody huge scaffold blocking the bloody lift door. So i bloody had to squeeze past while he bloody wished me a very bloody good morning. I'm sticking to the air con and closed windows from now on.

Caught up with a peer the other night, and found out that she's marrying a pastor. Astonishment. How did she know he was the one, i asked? She smiled, and made me promise not to laugh. Being afraid of a man leaving her for another woman, she prayed. I huddled closer, waiting for what she wanted the man to tell her. What term of affection, what bit of his heart would he proffer to show his ardor?

The statement, when it came, made me laugh. He had asked her to die before him, because he didn't want her to ever be alone. Aww shucks.

I can only hope that the day i fall, is the day my own prayer is answered. I'm drawing closer to the religion i lost so long ago. Not the obligation of tradition or guilt that came in early adulthood, but out of a real want to relive what was so special to me when i was young. I might not want to be a nun anymore, i don't think they look upon loving thy self that literally, but..well..we'll see.

Lyrics:
Today we salute you Mr. Supermarket Produce Putter Outer (Mr. Supermarket Produce Putter Outer)You have perhaps the greatest job known to man, squeezing giant melons all day long
(Love those squishy melons)
When women come in looking for squash, you say,
"Perhaps I can interest you in my giant zucchini (That ain't no zucchini)
Day in and day out, women step on your grapes, and you don't even flinch(Ooooooh!)
Is that a banana in your pocket?
No, it's a Plantain(Muy, muy grande)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light
O' King of the Cumquats,
because if one guy has to fondle our plums, we're glad it's you
(Mr. Supermarket Produce Putter Outer)

Listening to: wake me up when september's over
green day

It's been yonks. I know i'll come back to write, but seriously.. The inclination to look at what i've written, going to write or even look at what some people are writing is way way overdue.. Besides- a marginal addiction to world of warcraft, (its got nothing on diablo), the free lancing and trying to get some sleep takes up my time comfortably.

It's been getting hard for me to both sleep and stay asleep again. Last night was so damn hot i decided to get rid of my top in a restless fit and let the cool air from the fan reach me uninterrupted . When i woke, i realised that my windows were closed. Strange. They were still open when i decided to fall asleep. I woke up and squinted groggily at windows, and then it hit me. The painters had closed it for me, they were just outside my window, talking in animated tones.

God no.

When was the last time you flashed someone? Thank god i was still wearing my shorts.

On a side note,small wonder the painters always appear so happy. Talk about job perks.

Litany

Is there some door closed by the Father's hand
Which widely opened you had hoped to see?
Trust God and wait - for when He shuts the door
He keeps the key.

Is there some earnest prayer unanswered yet,
Or answered NOT as you had thought 'twould be?
God will make clear His purpose by and by.
He keeps the key.

Have patience with your God, your patient God,
All wise, all knowing, no longer lingerer He,
And of the door of all your future life
He keeps the key.


Unfailing comfort, sweet and blessed rest,
To know if EVERY door
He keeps the key
That He at last, when he just HE sees best,
Will give it thee.
- Anonymous

Sometimes He's a real joker, huh? Just wish my sense of humour cld keep up.

post shopping traumatic disorder

Back from K.L.

Yeah, im traumatised. There was nothing to buy. They have huge malls that are filled to the max, pretty cineplexes that are nicer then our's but they remain intrinsically.. malaysian. No offense to those reading who hail from that beautiful country, but this is after all my blog, which means the sentiments belong to..Moi. After this, im more sympathethic to the fact that people stereotype malaysian's dressing. How can they be blamed when it's the fashion buyers who should be shot?

I never realised there were so many a.j's there. Everywhere i turned, there were couples. All the trannies were malay, and the ones i cld recognise (the bottoms) were pretty much chinese. Strange, no? Guess they've evolved into a more tolerant society than ours. Must be because they generally have more to put up with.

The taxi service remained dubious, with those who had meters rare, and the ones who were scammers, plentiful. They were upfront about it as well, saying that singaporeans were stingy, and we shld give them a lil coffee money. I agree about the stingy part. It's true i know, that singaporeans generally are known as shite tourists but no one earns my coffee money unless im willing. And unless they're deserving.

Caught a movie there, the 'plex had 18 screens, and frankly, i think that one was better than ours. The seating was slightly different, ascribing to the method of markedly raised tiers, as opposed to ours. There were multiple snack counters, multiple loo's scattered around so handle the after movie crowd. The only thing that marred my experience was an old lady who exclaimed in cantonese at every.single.fucking.action sequence. When a.n.y.t.h.i.n.g happened, she wld exclaim in fucking cantonese. Yes. I was pissed. And i didn't know how to tell her to shut her trap up in cantonese, so i had to setttle for the annoying method of turning around with my finger on my lip. Spastic as hell, but at least it worked.

Sounds like my trip was a complete waste of my time, but it really wasn't. The entitlement of being a bitch today is mine, but i acknowledge that i enjoyed myself. The eating was delicious. Perhaps it was the dirt. Certainly i got better and it didn't feel like i was trying to hack my lungs out anymore. Well well.

breakin'

Seen the original "singing in the rain'?


gene kelly


Gotta love this :)

Indolence.

Listening to: blue orchid
white strips

My nights merge into days, and my days become nights. Books litter the floor of my room, and my phone bill, like the other expenses, have gone up this mth. Umemployment both suits, and doesn't. Leisure to go out, time to stay out late, the license to spend time doing..nothing. Rolling in bed, planning the iteinery for the day. Sloth. Isn't that what they call it? *smiles lazily* Plan an impromptu trip, stay up till whenever, and sleep in till you're woozy from sleep.

It's hard to get started again once inertia sets in. Tomorrow, i'll be good.

Question.

listening to: i believe in love
the darkness

Question.

If you had found an incredible friendship, is it selfish to want it to remain as such, never letting it progress beyond that?

Because i'm convinced that marriage would screw it up, like it clusterfucks up so many other things.

Skyflowers

Listening to: stellar
incubus

Standing on the shears bridge, the rows of people all along as far as the bridge allowed, I breathed in the sea breeze and smiled. Finally I get to see the fireworks. Amazing. I had worked all the way from the carpark just after mac's at the ecp; carried along by the buoyancy of the mood, and the disappointment of the night before- Stuck on the ecp's midnight jam, hearing the whistles and explosions of the fireworks but never able to see the real thing; courtesy of trees and that damned double decker bus which seemed glued to the side of the car. I had been so upset i was dejected. Until the prata house, that is.

mushrooms that make you go whoa

When the lights finally appeared, all at the same time, I couldn't remember when last something had enchanted me so very thoroughly.. They shot up from marina, the padang, and somewhere at the very edge of the east coast beach. I turned to smile, and received his sweeter surprise. After a moment, we pulled away, the better to witness the tangible fireworks that were still blooming in the night sky..

Fleur du ciel

Magick.

Proclamations

Listening to: you're beautiful
james blunt

I was, and am thinking of having a seperate area for posts which deal with religion, spirituality, all the things that make a jesus freak :) For today however, my posts remain on one. If you don't want to read, then don't!

Festival of praise ran from Fri to Sun last weekend. I've never wanted to, or felt the inclination to go, even though the idea of all the denominations celebrating together was beautiful to me. This year i felt a strange urge to want to be there, and there i was last night:)

Lion was late in picking me up, and it was already 17.30hrs but somebody, please tell me why i knew we were going to get seats *grins* Aggie didn't come, neither did mkor, so it was just us. Once in the car i realised that i wasn't wearing any contacts . Die lah. Crowds have been queuing up since noon, i'd surely be sitting right behind. Just an itty bitty speck 100 rows from the stage. What wld i do, if i wasn't able to see anything on the stage? Frick.

We reached the indoor stadium at about 1745-1800, and made a cut thru Tanjong Rhu to the North entrance. Word was that that queue was a tad bit shorter than the others, so we joined the throngs where i had a good laugh at some of the people's conversations since we were in such close proximity. How do you tell someone where you are by saying " it's the building with the gap"? So incredibly descriptive. Turns out she meant a gap in the crowds. We finally hit the blessed cool of the interior about an hour later. Lion shook his head, and said i shld have been more aggressive in keeping up with him. I cldn't. The thought of pressing against sweaty people, girls with unwashed hair, being pressed upon on all sides.. If people want to get stampeded upon, that's their problem. Peasants. Muhar!

We were pass the gate checks, looking for seats. Frantic ushers telling us to hurry, hurry, ushers telling us to move to the seating at the back of the stage.. I stood there a little, not wanting to be relegated to seeing the back of people's heads the entire evening. I slipped pass the harrassed usher once his back was turned, grabbing lion and pulling him along after me. Amazing isn't it, then we finally were found seats after a few minutes of hunting. Or were found seats by an usher, who had made some people give up reserved ones.

We got front row seats.

The gig started off on time. I won't talk much about the bands Delirious and Hillsong, which lived up to expectations, or that half way thru the crowds thronged the pre-stage area, and i was forced to stand on my chair to see anything, pygmy that i am. I won't talk about the many instances when the loudness of the beat, and the nearness of the His presence made my heart catch, and my lids heavy with feeling. I won't elaborate on how apt the 'sermon' was for me that night either.

It was like the whole evening had been tailor made to make me leave the stadium much more fulfilled that i had in a long, long time. And for that, i offer thanks.

Ennui

Guess what? I'm not working tomorrow, and probably will have the next week off as well. Gosh. As always, with excess time, i stoop to the mundane, and the useless. Attend. *brandishes pointer*






You have moderate sub tendencies. You enjoy being
told what to do, though the domme in you kicks
and screams at times. You can be a brat,
deliberately provoking a dominant. You need to
be reminded of your place at times, bitch.

Fact or fiction? Startlingly accurate.

Are you Dominant or Submissive?
brought to you by Quizilla







You're Exotic Dancer Barbie. You have some moves,
and will do anything for a few bucks. Take it
off girl, but keep it PG-13 please.

Phlusse.

If You Were A Barbie, Which Messed Up Version Would You Be?
brought to you by Quizilla






obsessive compulsive

Lily wld have been thrilled if i had these qualities in abundance. I left before it became a full fledged..what else? Compulsion.

Which Personality Disorder Do You Have?
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You are a child's kiss. Completely sweet and
innocent and pure. You mean no harm and only
love in your sweet kisses.

We'll leave the analysis to those who know what they're talking about, shall we?

What kind of kiss are you?
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Lies, all of it!!

What does love mean to you?
brought to you by Quizilla



~ I originally wanted to write about a something a little closer to heart, but for now, must mush up the stairs to my bed. Night night, world :) ~

One last look..

Last glimpses..

Daily routines- never boring, always traumatising.

Sweet effort.

I have no idea why he's grimacing. No bits of mine were astray.

A view from a window. Mine.

Thanks for the memories.

Leave taking.

My memories will always be with me, wherever i go.

Having snuck off early on thursday, k picked me up, and we went to collect the flowers and balloons that i had ordered. Coming back to an empty office, i got to work. i wanted calla lillies, but didn't have enough time to wait. I settled on gerbera's, their lively, solid colours matching the stationery i was using.. It was only later i realised that they symbolise love of absent friends. Sigh. And so it began. Letters and gerberas left on keyboards. The gerbera's were not packaged elaborately, with only a single ribbon round their stems.. As i worked, i looked at secret bear, the care bear that sher had left with me for my last night. It's strange so much done can be squeezed into only a few paragraphs, but for now im wrung out, tired and aching in every way to write much, or want to elaborate more. As i wrote in the cards, every now and then i would look out, trying to memorise the view. The sun set which has always hypnotized. At the myna's and occasional crow, their whirling, perfect synchronised flight. Earlier in the day, adel had pressed a package into my hands, petting my hair and shoulders, yet again making it difficult for me. I hate goodbyes. So much to say, so little inclination to write about them now.

Friday loomed early and cheery After a torturous car rally, dinner at steve's house with the beautiful grounds and sonmewhat damp drinks at tango, i was ready for home. My cheeks were numb with all the smiling at the cameras, and i was almost exhausted form the day, but bed just didnt want to beckon. I hit my bed at about 5 that morning, but i didn't mind, because some nights just aren't meant to be spent alone.

It still hasnt ended. Coming home today, i checked my mail to find mail from colleagues that only made me run to get the nearest tissue/toilet roll.

Dammit.

"Don't want to leave, but we both know sometimes it's better to go. Somehow I know we'll meet again, not sure quite where and I don't know just when you're in my heart, so until then, smile, don't want to cry saying goodbye." -The Muppets

Dawning.

Listening to: office pitter patter and paper shuffles

Stabbed my subjects arm. Waited for him to stop bleeding from the pricks. Wicked at it while he looked on in fascination. I looked at him and smiled while letting him examine the blood sodden filter. He gave me a toothy grin, he of the nice voice and veiny arms, and remarked that i had to encourage his arm.

Inflictor of pain : "What?"
Inflictee: "You've got to encourage him, ask him to stop bleeding.."
I.o.P:" Him? Don't you mean..it?"
While concentrating on his arm, i hear this through my haze of concentration.
Inflictee: " Yar. The prick. You've got to encourage him"

I miss the times when i was young enough to enjoy conversation without an uncrossable long kang (read: gutter) in my brain.

After i leave, the office will also be slightly more goof proof, not just a small mercy when in an environment with a great deal of sharps and biohazards. It's no secret that i belong to a special group of the handicapped, known as the terminally klutzy. I havn't fallen flat on my face for quite some time now, so the universe must be saving the moment for a more embarrassing one when it can savour it. It deviousness can be observed when you see how it has gifted me with intermittent gracefullness, all the better for marked contrast.

Lookee this - the colour of pain.
See the girl in the left? Yeah. That, my friend, is something i can probably relate to very intimately, given enough time.

Besides finding like minded people who share my penchant for the awkwardly painful, i've also plumbed the depths of employee uselessness. Having days when one simply can't do anything work related, it was to my sweet, sweet delight that i discovered i had colleagues who were capable of being just as innane, or worse. No images will be displayed to protect the names of the guilty. The fact that i looked halloween ready in them, is of course, of no consequence. But honestly.. we could have done this and i bet no one would have batted an eye. I could also bet that they would join in. Well..Some of them anyway.

Of course all wasn't fun and play. Long long hours when deadlines were near, much eye rollin and furi0us frantic whispering in the halls of the facility were more than common.. but i guess every ending is always bitter sweet..

Sigh.

heavyheartedness

listening to: every day you've been away
Bebel gilberto

I saw a disturbance making its way through the throngs. Patiently, knowing it must make its way past me, i stilled my companion and schooled myself to alertness. Holding my yet unpaid item to my chest, i first saw a little old lady, hair all mussed up, with an apologetic smile limping her way to the queue behind me.

First came the mutters of a man, then the man himself. Shorter than i am, with the meaningless smile of the intellectually disabled, he was scratching all over with insatiable fingers. Intelligible mutters and little twitches, that emaciatedness of frame.. Suddenly a great heavyness overcame me. This old lady, way past the age when she should be caring for a child, lines of her sacrifices etched so deeply all over.. why should she be apologetic about bringing her son, now a little past middle aged, into the public? I felt a great urge to shake the auntie in front of me, she with the horrible sneer and look of disgust as she looked at the pair. What gave her the right to think she was better than the old lady who probably had to look at the most basic needs of her child?

All around people were staring, staring. Didn't they realise that the man was a person and not an oddity to be gaped at? Don't parents teach their children manners these days? I am not asking for no looks at all, but for gods sake, not stares that make a man and his mother a freakshow.

Most of all, what pains is me is that the old lady had to not only get used to unkind stares, but also feel that she had to feel bad in any way at all. That apologetic smile, that dipped head, that gnarled figure..

I think on this, and yes, im greatful for everything that has been gifted me, no matter how small a blessing it is. My burdens are considered a "norm", my appearance nothing to be freaked out about. Relatively anyway.

If there was one thing i could ask of the people who read this, it is to emphatise with those who are less earthly fortunate. So maybe the person is a con artist. Will a dollar or 5 hurt you? Will it mean as much to you as to the lady selling those overpriced tissues? Will a smile at a person who is obviously poorer kill you?

It means nothing to feel a little more human once in a while.

Intrepidity

Listening to: Feels just like it should
Jamiroquai


I'm not elated at the news. The second interview with the opthalmologist is on monday, provided i can make it.

Last wednesday, i stepped onto the 4th level of the centre. Everyone was coiffed and heeled. Glancing through the forms i had to fill out, i grimaced when i realised that i would have to fill up the equivalent of my entire bloody resume. ~Fuck me~ Let them try reading my handwriting. That'll have them reverting to my c.v.

I've never dreaded interviews. Nervousness is a problem that disintegrates when i've started talking.

I greeted my iinterviewer by name, having had the receptionist think i was genuinely interested in her day.She had leaked the number of applicants so far, the name of my interviewer, and how long they had been looking. Karen, the HR manager, was youngish, snappy and suffered no fools. Her questions came fast and i could feel her weighing every reply. At the end of the interview- she told me that i might not have the job satisfaction i craved since the interaction with the patients were far and few inbetween. The blunt woman also mentioned that she had already seen someone that day whom she had her eye on.

I feel like.. i've been tossed a candy bar as a consolation prize.

A year ago i would have inclined my head and left it as that. This time after a bit, Karen gave me a wry grin. The second interview was mine.

I laugh as i remember what i told her. She must think me an impertinent chit. I had zero temper when i first started in the hospitals. I had more tolerance when i first started at the facility. I wonder what kind of person i'll be at 30?