Don't frown at me like that, Boey. tt annoyed face annoyed me.
but then, this was later clouded by other more important things such as having a nice meal at aunty june's. yay! good food. and adam showed me how he can now play the latest Three Doors Down song. good for him {:o)

i have issues with children who don't know how to daydream and don't bother trying. ethel, janelle and shannon are three brats who regularly come to my house and fight with each other to use the computer, bang their fingers on the the piano, or play with someone's handphone. if they can't get their hands on any of those things, they insolently announce they are bored. tsk, how annoying. can't they just learn to stone? or hide behind curtains and talk to themselves (i used to do this quite a bit). plus, i have a whole case full of bks; am rather insulted tt they find nothing readable there. watever lah. (NB: the aforementioned type of boredom is vastly different frm the apathy some of us occasionally experience). the point is, i don't get why some pple just can't think of ways to entertain themselves. it's terribly tragic you know.

zehzeh and i were bored just only, so i dressed up in my new vintage dress and we used up the shots in the instant cam she'd brought for her sentosa escapade just tt day. haha, hope the photos turn out right; they're cool i think.

during mass, i busied myself with thinking bout random shit; in between these thoughts were visions of myself getting struck down by God for not paying attention. why do i always feel tt i have to make bargains when it comes to God? i always feel like it's all a game (refer to: the price is right). no; we don't have a very healthy relationship, me and my God.

i was thinking of getting an acoustic, just for fun. maybe it'll make me more motivated to improve my playing. anyone got a second-hand to offer? (andrew? hahaa).


The Completely Pointless Personality Quiz


i did the thing below a few times, entering a diff names each time; check it out ya'll...

**elia Y** was a Happy Pick-Pocket in a past life. Discover your past lives @ Quiz Me

*m*l*a j**q**n y*o was a Snooty Travel Agent in a past life. Discover your past lives @ Quiz Me

a****a **o ** *** was a Happy Fighter Pilot in a past life. Discover your past lives @ Quiz Me

a****a j*****n **o ** k** was a Creative Explorer in a past life. Discover your past lives @ Quiz Me

... in conclusion, AMELIA was a JOB-HOPPER. haha.

i met amy yesterday. she's an instructor trained by Wilderness. i heard from my boss yee pin tt amy's father recently committed suicide. but you'd never guess cos yesterday she was joking and laughing with me. over lunch, she told me how yoga leads to greater flexibility and the possibilty of more adventurous postures during sex. tt's nice, but it still does not solve the issue of tt dumb oral sex law (gosh, wat is my problem anyway?)

i keep telling myself i'm bored and tt i need someone to think of. it's sad i look at it like a remedy. shouldn't be tt way. i'm just bored to pieces.

up, down, up, down, up, down. is of my day.
i realised today tt the shell station at TBL bldg has only female employees (i think). and i thought to myself, hey, i could work here. hah. then i bought a hazelnutchocolate wafer thing to make myself happy.

mummy and uncle jeffrey left for bangkok this morning. daddy leaving on cruise tmr. i sat at my messed up laptop at work today, all by myself for bout 2 hrs. i want to thank all the pple who replied to my countless sms-es. my table there is beginning to look like the one at home. i've concluded tt i'm the kind of person who really really cannot hold a normal 9 to 5 job. it's been less than a week, and i dunno how i'm gonna tahan till next month. thankfully i get to listen to radio online, so i don't fall asleep.

for a change, i went to OUB centre at raffles place to watch POFF play (nice songs, ya'll), and get a suntan at the same time. tmr i might go watch somemore, and toast me a nice brown. i hate the thought of going to work at the same time everyday. i'm so used to having classes at diff times everyday, so i can't take this... take... me .. away..............

finally borrowed Kitchen. started on it on the train home. good.

i think i'm alone now. there doesn't seem to be anyone around.
wonder what time they gonna be here, my bosses. maybe they not coming in today uh-oh... haha

I love you from the bottom, of my pencil case
I love you in the songs, I write and sing
Love you because, you put me in my rightful place
And I love the PRS cheques, that you bring

Cheap, never cheap
I'll sing you songs till you're asleep
When you've gone upstairs I'II creep
And write it all down

Oh Shirley, oh Deborah, oh Julie, oh Jane
I wrote so many songs about you
I forget your name (I forget your name)
Jennifer, Alison, Phillipa, Sue, Deborah, Annabel, too
Jennifer, Alison, Phillipa, Sue, Deborah, Annabel, too
I forget your name

I love you from the bottom of my pencil case
I love the way you never ask me why
I love to write about each wrinkle on your face
And I love you till my fountain pen runs dry

Deep so deep, the number one I hope to reap
Depends upon the tears you weep, so cry, lovely cry, cry, cry, cry

Oh Cathy, oh Alison, oh Phillipa, oh Sue
You made me so much money, I wrote this song for you
Jennifer, Alison, Phillipa, Sue, Deborah, Annabel, too
I wrote this song for you
Jennifer, Alison, Phillipa, Sue, Deborah, Annabel, too
I wrote this song for you
For you, i wrote this song for you

(Song For Whoever, Beautiful South)



i've realised tt if i stop walking round the back of Tan Boon Liat building, i won't get so scared like i did yesterday. the day was good, then bad, then good, then bad... so it was ok i guess. the office is only a bit bigger than my bedrm, but i have my own work corner. which is cool with me. downside, i have to take a basic course in rockclimbing/abseiling where my bosses/colleagues/instructors - who all happen to be all of 2 pple - will show me the ropes (please laugh at my intended pun). this, so i will understand the co better. seems they expect quite a bit of me. i hope they don't over-expect, cos i really don't think i'm oh so capable. i should revise my sleeping schedule; was so deadbeat i KO-ed on the train.

thank you andrew, for sending me nick valensi's picture. fwah, all the handsomeness, man... woo hoo! mm-mm! sweet dreams are made of- *wink*

ORAL SEX IS ILLEGAL?!!?
haha, no shit, since when? i'm very amused and shocked all at the same time. i mean, i never knew! did you? did you?

it's such a stupid law. ok, i'm a horny bitch - so sue me. it's an act of affection man... (well, it should be). how are pple spposed to be caught and fined anyway? doh. it's just so crappy and prudish. ok, just imagine, all the couples in sunny s'pore just doing it the normal way; and you thought nothing could get more boring than local Wheel of Fortune. i never knew the meaning of ludicrous till now... fwah lao.
i don't know what i'm talking bout right now. this issue just seems to bother me; my sexlife (not now lah, i mean next time ok)is at stake. hahaa. shut me up, someone.

i just saw my previous entry and wat the fuck is real love anyway? haha, oh man... i don't even know what i meant. oh yes, random point - disregard all the touting you hear of Shanghai Baby; it's a disappointment, tt book.

Martin breathed a hey gorgeous down my neck this afternoon and asked me to kick him in the ass with my new everbest heels (which i realise resemble part of an S&M ensemble). i'm not quite sure how to react. i imagine there be a battle, a battle for gorgeous. then there'd be violence and killing but in the end, she'll just run off with a guy tt is neither. sad? peut-etre. this is how i try to amuse myself as i swim in this pool of listlessness.

Shake well before use.
i'm a carton of (try saying this in one breath) cacophony-floating-on-a-layer-of-piercing-silence-lying-atop-some-real-love. shake me up.

Caution: Do not pierce packet.
this will probably make you want to poke more, but don't anyway.


migliacci never call me so i don't even know the details for Wilderness Associates. even the suspense has died already. today i was irritated by this whole attachment thing. i'll call again tmr, in my punjabi suit and all indianed-up.

i've quit. i've quit. and i'm not just saying it. please don't let this be just a temporary thing...
now, i'm just waiting for something to happen. randomly, i recently realised how i still dress like a kid sometimes. but i don't do it on purpose; it's just tt the clothes i like to wear look a tad gi-na. so there. chey! {:oP
i's like got a thang for Benny frm City of God. is hot, is hot.

Strike up the band let it play
Love songs to haunt me and I will stay
But when it comes to a waltz
Both words and music will ring false

For you waltzed in
And spun my world
Around in dizzy dance I swirled
But suddenly
You waltzed away from me

Those violins, they must go
So no careless hand with a bow
May play on the strings of my heart
And make me remember how lovers part

How you waltzed in
And spun my world
Around in dizzy dance I swirled
But suddenly
You waltzed away from me

Strike up the band let it play
Whatever it chooses and I will say
Play me a waltz if you will
I'll sit here and listen waiting until

My love returns
To take my world
And spin it 'round
In dizzy swirl
Where girl loves boy
And boy loves girl
And feet don't touch the ground

(The Waltz, Silje Nergaard)


go buy 4D today cos i got myself a jazz cd. i love the way Silje carries this tune; it's so pretty. i think i have a thing for scandinavian singers (with the exception of ABBA of course, haha).

i realised today that i've romanticised some of my memories, resulting in beautifully nostlagic - yet unrealistic - flashbacks. this is all ok, until some of the subjects concerned make cameos and show me how much i've twisted my realities. it's like an epiphany, you know. but vien reckons this enlightenment won't stick for long and i don't sppose it would either. *sigh* oh well...
i'm really tired.

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.

i'm not sure why i keep throwing myself into the twilight, just to float in my melancholy. if i could, i'd rid the ones i love of their pain. if i could, i'd save you... and you... and you... from all the hurt and pain. everytime you hold something in, a bolt loosens in your brain. and then bit by bit, you'll lose it, and then you won't be able to think so well anymore. i hope shana doesn't grow up to be as troubled as me, or worse. i want to take the pain away for her, the way no one really managed to do for me. this is like reliving it over again, and i still feel helpless.

you probably think i'm full of angst. well, maybe i am. oh you won't understand. tell me it's ok cos the tears aren't enough to wash it away.