there's so much i feel i need to say today. and in the light of my current condition, i'm glad all tt i feel like saying is directed to my selves and therefore limited to non-oral communication.

i was chased to bed at 9.30 last night due to a bad throat, an uncooperative nose and a dry but increasingly phlegmy cough. martina's husband is apparently being tested for aedes and chikungunya and im hoping to God watever it is i have isnt half as serious cos if it is, then i've probably infected half of spore with it, considering the amount and expanse of my daily intra-country travel via public transport.

i was sitting on my bed deciding how i should go about getting to sleep (it's always difficult getting started on things you're not used to doing right?) when i heard muffled high pitched shouts from outside. it was tt old, familiar sound of mummy's agitated tone. and it gave me tt old, familiar feeling of helplessness, intense pain and distress i used to feel everytime mummy and daddy fought. only this time, it wasn't daddy. and it felt worse because since 9 years ago, i'd been pretty smug bout finally having a peaceful, marital-argument-free homelife. so i went and pressed my ear against the door, hoping tt it was just the tv or tt i'd mistaken hearty laughter for harsh agitated words. sometimes i duno why i have such high hopes when i know it's not all gonna go my way. i needed the aircon on last night so i couldn't open the windows and fill my ears with the comforting sound of cars whooshing up and down the expressway. no more reservoir to look across, no more little car headlights moving along the horizon. just me cowering under my blanket, hands over my ears, trying not to cry myself into an asthma attack. last night was a terrible time to discover that my only ventolin inhaler had expired two months ago.

i woke up this morning with an epiphany thanks to last night's quandary: the thing tt i really dislike about sean other than his placeless humour is tt when he laughs or speaks loudly, his voice has the same frequency as mummy's when she is agitated. maybe it sounds ridiculous, but i don't think it is at all. i'm hyper-sensitive to certain smells and sounds, some of which trigger very specific memories- good and bad. i've mentioned this before i think. sometimes i hear a single random sound and can immediately recognise it as the first note of a particular song. not a skill to shout about i guess, but it's a curious something i'm always secretly proud of. il y a que les saluads qui sont normaux, non?

i usually get chastised by self-righteous pple (ok fine, i guess some are well-meaning...) who think tt my career and life decisions should be more conventionally-pragmatic, so when i do get pple who support me, it's really nice. recently, i took cab back frm class twice and on both occasions(once was yesterday), the taxi drivers expressed their support for my career path. tsk eh don't laugh ok, not many pple know how frustrating it is to sit in a cab and hear someone trash your views on life and career throughout a $25-ride (about 25 mins). sometimes, i don't think it's tt i have a "talk to me cos i'm/you're so bored" kind of look tt gets me into lots of random conversations with strangers.. it could just be tt i always inevitably land myself in such conversation-worthy situations...

my typical convos with a cabby always begin the same way...
- hallo, (insert home address) please.
- ok. you stay (insert neighbourhood) ah? come here so far do what?"
- oh i'm taking a course at this cc.
- (insert home neighbourhood) got no cc to take course ah? how come must come here and take?
- this one is a teachhing course. tampines don't have.
- this course, teach what one?
- (BLABLABLAH)
- why don't do moe one?
- oh.. tt one got bond and (BLABLABLAHBLAH.. too many reasons to state here haha)


after giving up a seat to an old woman, the person next to her gets up and she quickly chopes the seat and quickly motions for me to take it - thanks (smile)
- must quickly sit, otherwise these men will take the seat. nowadays the men like tt.
- haha.. orh.
- sometimes they pretend to sleep you know. so terrible. shameful..
- mm ya.
- (BLABLABLABLABLAH.....)

hahaahaha. but i love talking to all sorts of pple lah. makes me feel like i'm enriching my life experience. occasionally it tests my patience (like this one old man i shared the table with at a hawker centre who told me tt i was very stupid to have gone to an overseas uni cos they all suck and have useless qualifications and besides, why be so selfish to make your parents miss you? plus, only nus and ntu are good unis and his daughter went to ntu and blahblablah... stupid old man.)


i kind of feel like i need to see a docteur but mummy's afraid tt'll result in all of us getting quarantined at the cdc so i'm currently on a parent-imposed home quarantine. good time to get my assignmt#3 done. and ironically, the text i found to work on is bout swine flu. checkitout HERE. so anyway, martina thinks i should get tested for mycoplasma. just a thought: even if i get to choose what it is tt i have, i don't think i would know. i just hope i don't have aids. stupid fucking dylan. i better fucking not have fucking aids, you fucking bastard.

goodness knows when i'll recover from the fear of giving myself to a another guy. dammit. oh, look- i just realised tt almost every paragraph in this post starts with i. *gasp* i think it's a sign, amelia!- every new paragraph of my life starts with me. wah fucking corny sia. ok i think i've just about exhausted my talk time for today. back to working on my swine flu listening task thing.


(i miss going to the esplanade for free gigs.... stupid flu foiled my grand weekend plans. TSK.)