ok, i'm spposed to be studying PR, but i couldn't resist writing cos i've had the urge to blog since yesterday and i didn't.

last night, we dropped by uncle peter's pub to wish aunty irene a happy birthday and as usual, i was saboh-ed into singing karaoke haha. sinead o'connor's nothing compares to you. have to admit i didn't quite pull tt one off. then aunty irene wanted to sing some charismatic (yes... i know- like huh?). so she put on her favourite Power of Your Love (an oversung song, in my opinion) and insisted i backed her up on tt. and there we were - a quirky 18-yr-old in a preppy tank, corduroys and trademark docmart's, and a sexy bra-less tightdressed 50-yr-old (complete with ponytail hairpiece and stilettos) crooning to holy melodies, while trying to ignore the inaccurate lyrics and tacky visual accompaniments flashing on the karaoke monitor.

i have to say, it wasn't so bad after all, the karaoke. and the best part was knowing tt i had made aunty irene's day. you should've seen the smile on her face when i sang with her. if i could make pple smile like tt everyday, i could be the happiest person on this planet.

i'm not sure which hurts more - studying PR (NB: does not constitute serving beer or getting frisky at a cheap lounge) or having period cramps ('period': a big irony, since the discomfort never seems to cease). well, either way, i'm doing both simultaneously now, so it doesn't matter.

this afternoon, i imagined myself as a little girl holding a basket, wearing a hood, walking through the forest. No, my initials are not LRRH. anyway, i had a lot of peace in my basket. and along the way, some birds kept flying by and crapping in it. tt pissed me off, but i walked on anyway. and i kept trying to find some nice untainted peace in my basket and when i did (though it was increasingly seldom), i was very happy.
now i hope you didn't think this little tale was going to end with a moral, cos it doesn't. i'm not sure what the point to it is. you go figure.