96. Virgin Riding

THE IDEA OF RIDING ISN'T PURELY MENTAL MASTURBATION ANYMORE.

Funny how my metaphors and words seem to translate into different meanings and end up sounding so...M18.

Anyway, moving on. Like the entry title and pre-cursor tagline suggests, riding became a reality for me yesterday (13.03.11)! And how do I feel about that? TOTALLY RAD!!! But I've also developed second thoughts about riding on the road, getting my bike license etcetera. :|

But that's another story for another day, I'm just gonna do a quick re-cap of the events for yesterday and rest my battered body. Pretty glad I wasn't flung from my bike like a ragdoll but still battered nonetheless, with a festering "continent" of an abrasion between my butt-cheeks. And many other bruises.

The day started out with heavy drizzle, talk about "raining on our parade". BUT, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise for the rain deterred us from riding to Changi Point (our departing Jetty). Let me explain HOW it became a blessing.

Fast forwarding to the end of the dirt bike trip, we were chauffeured back to the Jetty in Pengerang, Malaysia at 3:30pm and along with other tourists/passengers (already at the Jetty since 2plus) waiting for our transport back to Singapore, we were promised a bum boat which will ferry us back.

5pm came and still no boat and then the guy tending the counter saunters out of his ticket booth and dropped the bomb on us, "The bum boat service is over, no more boats coming back for the day."

We were stranded on foreign land (it's Malaysia, so what! Still foreign what!), away from city life and totally unprepared to spend the night; and worse, we're told there may not be enough taxi(s) coming by to send us all back to Johor, from which we can get back to Singapore.

When we eventually got lucky to share a cab with a couple, we spent close to 2 hours in the cab back to Johor, Larkin if I'm not wrong and paid a sum of $40 for us both (as opposed to a 45 minute boat ride at $12 per person) and had to "transit" to take yet another cab back to '2nd Link' and eventually home. Mind you, by the time we reached Singapore, it was already close to 9pm. Had we rode to Changi Point in the morning, we would've have to cab ALL the way back to Changi to collect the bike and ride back home, again.

The boy was commenting it felt like the Chinese New Year movie, "The Homecoming" starring Jack Neo as 'Karen Neo' where they experienced problems with the transport and took a biggg round just to get back home.

Other than this damper, the day was worth every single bruise, scratch and burn I endured.

Though I'm kinda sad that I'm going to look every bit like a freak show at D&D tomorrow night later tonight.

My whole body's aching from all the bumps and falls it endured and the bruises are all garnering attention by showing up in their ghastly green, brown, red and purple. SIGHHH.

And I look like a "Something Tapir" with my two-tone hands. That animal with grey and white tones? "African Tapir"? Whatever. I saw it in the zoo twice.

& to the wonderful boyfriend who played guardian to me throughout the trip, THANK YOU for planning the trip and taking care of ALL the details prior to the trip, right down to my attire for the bike trail and spending close to a bomb on everything, especially my boots.

On top of that, you did an incredible job taking such good care of me during the trip and I love you even more for not holding it against me for running you down and injuring you when I lost control of the bike! ):

I'm sure this trip'll go down as one of the most eventful "First(s)" in our memory bank!

Lastly, thank you for accompanying me in "Cat A" and spending the bulk of your time "learning" stuff you've known for 5 years. And chronicling my "debut" bike riding with so many videos and pictures!

I especially love this shot you snapped when I was totally unaware. [:

95. March into March.

MARCHING W MY HEAD HELD HIGH.

March came pre-packed with the dreaded exams but in every "horrible" gift, there's always something nice. Likewise in every person. I resolve to see the good in everyone until I'm shown the bad, that's a good movement, right?

It has been one helluva busy 2 months of the new year for me and so many things have happened! Some bad, mostly good. I wish I could share it with you. It really sucks that I can't pick up the phone and tell you about my life and plans like how I'm going to intern at a prestigious fine-dining restaurant, and that I'm finally going to learn bike-riding and hopefully get my license by the end of the year! There's just SO MANY things I want to share with you, knowing YOU of all people, will be so damn happy and proud of me. I've been pushing thoughts of you to the back of my mind for fear of breaking down when I think of you. You've taught me to be a strong, independent person and I've always thought I am too until lately it seems I'm just good at deceiving myself.

But, this March, I'm setting aside some time for friends, myself and you. We'll re-visit those wonderful memories of us that I've denied myself for so long and then I can give in and have myself a good, long cry. I'll never stop missing you but I can come to terms with your death. I need to. It is 'March' after all, it's the month for 'Marching forward'. Yes, I made that up but it does make a good reason for me to start.

Till then, I love you so, so, so much Papa, don't you forget.

94. Dream a little dream

IF I COULD TURN BACK THE HANDS OF TIME.

It was you on Monday. It sounds so silly, it's not like I'm the ghost whisperer or something but it felt so real, I'm pretty damn sure it was for real.

We had a conversation, you held my hand like you used to when I was little. We talked. You even mentioned about my tattoo! Then you showed me two drawings and suggested I do a tattoo of one of them. I have the coolest dad.

It was short, and it could very well be our last conversation; but it's okayy, it felt so good to watch you laugh.

I still miss you, maybe more than ever. I love you Papa, your birthday's in about a week's time. I'll still wish you like I always do! (:

93. This void can't be filled.

What's so great about the New Year?

92. Remember

"AT THE START OF THE NEW YEAR, WE WOULD GATHER

ON THE DECK OF THE SHIP & SING 'AULD LANG SYNE'."

Funny that I should recall you telling me that. I googled "Auld Lang Syne" and found out that it is often sung to celebrate a New Year as well as a farewell to other occasions.

"People say you don't know what you've got till it's gone.

Truth is, you knew what you had, you just never thought you'd lose it."

3 more days to the start of 2011; it's going to take a bit of getting used to not having you in my life in the years to come.

91. This entry's for the 3 persons I love most.

WE WERE SO WRAPPED UP IN ALL OF OUR DREAMS

WE DIDN'T CARE WHAT THE FUTURE WOULD BRING

These days I'm afraid to be alone because that's when I miss you most. I was at work today when this song played and it's true what people say; songs convey what the heart yearns to say.

Another day has gone

I'm still all alone

How could this be

You're not here with me

You never said goodbye

Someone tell me why

Did you have to go

And leave my world so cold

"....though we're far apart, you're always in my heart."

This is for you Papa; I know you felt that little bit of jealousy when you found out that my tattoo had nothing to do with you or the family, you silly old man. So here it is, one that says it all and covers the ugly scars that you hate to see.

-

On another note, things have pretty much settled down to normal; for me at least. And this little Padawan here has been with me through the toughest times - tears, mucus, anguish and all. THANK YOU, naughtygirl.

....and next, the most important man next to my father: THANK YOU for being patient during this crazy period - handling my rollercoaster moodswings and the emotional wreck that I sometimes become. The effort to leave camp earlier, the picking me up when I came back, the packed dinner and short game at Marina Barrage and the endless hugs, kisses and assurance you gave me really made each day more bearable than the last. I know you felt bad that you were stuck in the jungle and couldn't see my dad off but hey, my dad would've given you the stamp of approval without a second's delay seeing the way you take care of me.

I love you three.

90. Marketing together.

I dreamt of you last night. We went on bike rides and did marketing. Just you, me and Vennie. You were goofing around as usual as you browsed through the freshest produce of the day and irritated the grocer lady. We met Vincent for breakfast after marketing and you even teased him about the holiday trip he brought his girlfriend on, saying that you've brought Mommy to better places before.

Can I choose to believe that it was your way of spending time with me for the last time and not some buried memories my subconscious dug up?

89. I love you so, so much.

THE WIND WILL TAKE ME AWAY UP HIGH,
INTO THE CLOUDS TO A PLACE I KNOW NOT BUT WILL LEARN TO LOVE LOTS.

Over the years of being apart from you, I thought I've been made "immune" to family ties and all that emotional baggages that comes with it. Still, I tear as easily as a hormonal teen watching Hallmark commercials at the thought of losing you. You were my favourite, and I was yours. You made it clear. I was the one you would proudly "show off" to your friends like a trophy (I grimaced every time you do that "This is my daughter..." pitch, but I was secretly pleased); the one who could do no wrong in your eyes, the only one capable of making you laugh no matter how upset you were; the one who's most alike you; "chip off the old block", people who knew us would say. And I was the one who "keeps you going" you often told me.

So why did you leave me now?

It's been about 9 hours since I got news of your passing on and I haven't come to terms with it. I've had enough time alone to digest the truth but part of me refuse to believe that you're gone. It feels surreal. My head hurts so bad from all the throbbing, I want to go to sleep and wake up to you goofing on the phone telling me you're in Paris or Japan and I'd play along, despite knowing that you're most likely lounging in the kitchen chair. I feel so sad, I feel so lost, I feel so angry and I feel so empty. I feel like a part of me has been rudely yanked out. I thought a lot about your death but I convinced myself it wouldn't happen soon, not before I graduate and earn a decent paycheck; not before we spend some "Father Daughter" time together. For the last few hours I've been hating myself, and I don't think I'll be able to forgive myself ever.

My heart broke and I'm overwhelmed with guilt when Vincent told me you kept asking to see me even during your last moments. I am so sorry papa, please don't think that I didn't love you enough to go back. I avoided going back because I was a coward. Because you and I always put up a strong front in front of each other; we were each other's pillar of strength and because you always said a daughter of yours never cries, I made sure I don't ever cry; not in front of you. But as your health deteriorates, holding back my tears became harder. It hurts me to see you in pain but I could do nothing to ease your pain and so I avoided going back. I thought crying in front of you would break your heart, but not having been there hurt you more I suppose.

Now I wish for just one minute, enough for you to lift your eyebrow in acknowledgement like you always do, when I tell you I love you. I wish I was there holding you and assuring you that you were the best father when you breathed your last. I know you feel like you let us down but we know you tried your best, I know. In many aspect, you tried to give me the best that you can give. Me, I was the lucky first born; you gave me your time and your love. Looking back, you loved being my father and that alone makes me so proud to be your daughter.

Now I'm missing the only figure of authority I respect in my life but I tell myself that even though you're gone physically, you live in me. I am like you in so many, many, many ways. I have your nose, your fingers and jellybean toes I used to wriggle beside yours. Physical attributes aside, I tell stories like you used to, sometimes exaggerating to crazy extends just to amuse our "audience", we have the same sense of "justice" that more often than not land us in hot soup with the higher authorities. We share the same sense of humour, the same goofiness, the same temperament and the same "when people make us mad, we don't get mad, we get even" attitude. Even miles apart, I am who I am because of YOU. I hope you approved of the choices I've made in my life and I will continue to live up to the high standards you set for me. Papa, I miss you sooo much. I hope you're finally liberated from the pain you endured for the past 2 years. Wherever you are, remember I love you as much as you love me, if not more.

88. December babies

AND A SONG SOMEONE SINGS, ONCE UPON A DECEMBER.

I used to like the theme song in Disney's Anastasia -"Once upon a December" for a very shallow reason; because it had 'December' in it and I'm a December baby.

And it's that time of the year again. Birthdays, they've never really made me happy. Okayy, they do, for awhile. Then the happiness dissipates, like the fizz in a champagne during a celebration. After the merrymaking, the fizz dies out and what's left is a sad, flat, sweet reminder of what had been a bubbly, happy drink earlier. That's how I feel about birthdays.

But don't get me wrong; it's not like I do not enjoy birthdays. I do, just not mine.

But this year (and last year), I've got someone sharing my December -- and I will make sure I enjoy our December and our birthdays; no matter how hard (what with tests and assignments piling up to my neck), all for that special someone.

87. I wish you knew.

WHEN NO NEWS, IS GOOD NEWS.

I would ride on your shoulders
And look out on the world
Pretending I was big and tall like you
When you were there to hold me
I never was afraid
You made me feel there's nothing I can't do

If I'd spread my wings to fly
When I was very small
I knew that you'd be standing by
To catch me if I fall

You're my hero
Chasing the monsters from my room
Going on trips around the moon
The one who's always been there faithfully
You're my hero
And 'cause you're my Dad...
I'm twice as blessed and lucky to be me

As I keep getting older
We often disagreed
But you let me find myself in my own way
And it's funny, how just lately
I've come to recognize
How wise you are becoming every day
There's so much you've given me
I hope I've made you proud
You're everything a Dad should be
And it's time to tell you now

You're my hero
You didn't have to say a word
Your love was the message that I heard
Inspiring me to be all I can be
You're my hero
And 'cause you're my Dad...
I'm twice as blessed and lucky to be me

86. HOLI-DAZE.

I AM THE QUEEN, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?

Can't believe I actually convinced Nic and her sis to print that on a shirt for me. I only managed to wear it once though (lousy quality, shrunk and printing faded after the first wash). Pity. Would've lifted my sinking spirits a great deal if I could wear it now and strut it around town.

It's the start of my long awaited break from school and for the first time in my life, I am bored to the bones. Usually I have my days jam-packed with work and meet ups with friends but this time round, I've been mopping around the house, exploring my 'domesticated side', even turned to BAKING. You can almost smell my desperation. Next time I plan on baking, for the good of all mankind; please, someone tie me to a lamp post. Likewise when I plan on having a haircut. I swear my hair only grew 1/2 an inch since I last cut it 1 month+ back. Yes, 1/2 a bloody inch.

The cupcakes. They don't look half as bad in the oven, that I must admit.

To be honest, the banana cupcakes tastes pretty good but they all came out with scorched bottoms. Then the second batch that went in came out looking half-baked (colour-wise) and tasted... well, the hazelnut flavour could have come across stronger. Ahh, disappointments, they go hand in hand with baking. For me, at least.

So, back to why this holiday is particularly depressing? This is why:

"No bees, no honey. No work, no money."

For a person used to juggling two jobs, I am now down to one. Which means I'm experiencing a major pay-cut. Which then means I'm suffering from 'No Shopping', 'No Indulging in Expensive Food' withdrawal symptoms. No more being even a little extravagant with money. And it also means I can't keep running out to meet friends since meeting friends often = to spending $. I am deprived of work and enjoyment. I complain about work but I actually enjoy being busy and buzzing around simply because it's rewarding. Argh. On the brink of going crazy if I don't land a job soon.

In other news, I'm so free now, I tagged along Cheryl on one of her pet sitting stints and met this awesome ball of fur named Snowball. More like Abominable "Snowman" if you ask me.

Mr Gentle Giant & Miss Desperate-to-be-employed.

Snowball doesn't play "Catch" but he loves "Catching" :D

Happy Holidaze to me.

Why are my fonts all "scrunched up" and different from the rest of the entries? Awesome, blogger's against me too.

85. Deviled Bell.

JUST GONNA STAND THERE & WATCH ME BURN

...burn the midnight oil while you bloody snore away~

!@#$%&!?

I'm drunk from hate now. Sick and tired, literally. (Sniffles)
Despite all the downs in life, I still have to count the little blessings in life.

"Couldn't have done it without you, Soldier."

What I long to do to some of my "team" mates leeches now could get me jailed for life.

84. Going green.

LIVING UNDER YOUR SPOTLIGHT.

I have no issues 'living under' Mr Ng Junda's 'spotlight' cause he has done nothing but showered me with love these days. Recalling the past two weeks...it would've taken a saint to be even minimally nice to me. I was, what you would've classified a psychotic, unbearable, prissy emotional wreck. And poor Mr Ng Junda not only had to put up with the tantrums, he literally bend over backwards to please me. THANK YOU!!! (: I know this won't suffice for the "torture" I put you through but I really, really appreciate the effort you made to keep a rein on your temper while mine went berserk and snapped at anything/anyone who drifted into my orbit.

Stress and lack of sleep. That's the best reason I can give for my intolerable behaivour. Even the doctor said what I experience is nothing that cannot be rememdied with a few days of sleeping in and sleeping in I did for the weekend! Do I feel better? Kinda. Particularly so with a doting boyfriend.

I think he's the best prescription ever.

On another note, Going Green holds two different meanings; besides reducing the usage of plastic spoons and saving Gaia (doing my part to Reduce, Reuse, Recycle), I've been hunting down these little green figures with the boyfriend. New obsession? Not quite. Let's just say he and Legos goes a long way back...

And though I consider myself quite a "creator", creating something of Lego didn't quite make it to my list of 'Successful Creations'. Legos never were my choice of toys. Toys were meant to bring joy to me and Legos... well, they made me frown. Nothing I create looks like what I INTENDED them to be and stubby fingers + no nails made it doubly hard to pry those darn 'bricks' apart.

Now, the boyfriend on the other hard has quite a knack for Legos and I'm just... playing along! (Poor pun) I've decided that Legos are fun, so long as I'm not the one putting them together!


*Spelling correction: Racce Recce

-

I'm so in love with Edith Piaf’s “Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien.” Yes, you heard it from the movie Inception, the cue-song for the characters to wake up from their sleep.



Abrupt end, I need to get back to work. Oh, little green men, we've treated you well so be nice and pray along with me will you? To a better week ahead! (Flying kiss)

83. Worst day of 2010.

IF YOU DON'T KNOW ME BY NOW
YOU WILL NEVER NEVER NEVER KNOW ME.

They say the reason people resisted getting out of bed sometimes is linked to the natural desire to regress to the womb. A place of solace. A place where we're totally protected from the chaotic world outside.

I feel like I'm in need of the "retreat to the womb" therapy today. Today was the classic bad day - a series of unfortunate events. And I seriously mean series. Funny thing is, I didn't wake up tripping out of my bed, slipping on the bathroom floor or missing my bus. In fact, the bus came the very minute I stepped into the sheltered bus stop and I'd naively taken that as a sign of a good day to come. Can I be more wrong. Right after the piece of good news Miss Wilson shared with us regarding our grades, I envision them slipping to the point of no return.

Being in Baking and Pastry scares the hell of me, yes. I feel totally out of place in there. Like a caveman in Willy Wonka's factory - I love looking at everything in there and of course eating but other than that, I am totally useless in the bakeshop. It's...so foreign to me.

Well, I didn't exactly do anything "wrong", but I didn't do anything right either. And the cherry on top of the sundae was spilling a jug of milk all over the floor. That highlighted my clumsy existence to the Chefs (particularly Chef Fum) and I can imagine all the profiteroles on the table singing in harmony, "..there's no point crying over spilled milk."

Fast forwarding to the evening, I accepted an offer to buy tissue from a handicapped in hope to ward off my bad karma & I was ripped off $2 for a SINGLE pack of tissue.

The madness won't stop, will it.

82. Thirst-day.

YOU BELONG TO ME.

Booty Clap from Kirsten Lepore on Vimeo.

81. Wake up.

THERE'S SOMEONE I FEEL LIKE PUTTING THROUGH A BLENDER.

Sluts are good enough to make a sloven's porridge.
--Old Proverb.

It's sad that you protect her like she's under the endangered species list. Well, she probably is...under 'World's Ugliest Animal'.

How much more misery and humiliation do you want to be put through before you wake up?

80. Beethoven reincarnate.

MUSIC CALMS YOUR SOUL.

Tears In Heaven


Right Here Waiting


More Than Words


The Rose


♥ www.SunghaJung.com
I could listen to him all day.

79. Unexpected.

THERE'S A MOMENT IN TIME AND IT'S STUCK IN MY MIND.

I woke up feeling under the weather and sluggish. Walking out of the lift and seeing you wait by the road with your bike really lifted my spirit. Thanks for the extra trip down to the shop, this time with my packed lunch and Horlicks McFlurry.

Work's slow and unchallenging, so I have only the memories of your earlier visit and the lingering taste of sweet, malty and salty Horlicks in my mouth, accompanied by songs from the 80s - 90s on the radio. Hmmm... Friday can't get any better once the churning in my stomach stops.

78. Tsamina mina zangalewa, this time for reflection.

FOREVER YOUNG, I WANNA BE FOREVER YOUNG.

"It's now 8:03 pm."

I feel like going Africa just listening to this song.

-

I'm surprised at my eagerness to talk about my day and the frequency of my blogging too. It's a good thing I guess, all these thoughts has to go somewhere, there's only this much my mind can contain.



Two weeks in Garde Manger flew by in a blink of an eye then it's onto another kitchen for us next week. Maybe it's too soon to say but it's a safe bet to say that Garde Manger might be, could be, HAS GOT TO BE the best kitchen to be in, out of all 5 kitchens. Gbye Garde Manger, Hello Top Table.

The past week has been all about kitchen boot camp (duh) and rushing of 500 word essay and entrepreneurship assignment; which resulted in an ongoing debate (with myself) about my choice of study and possibly my career in the hospitality, Food & Beverage industry, as well as my dream of running a small cafe. One component of the assignment was to work out the business start up cost and the figures I drew up scared me. I am, after all, a self-proclaimed numerophobic.

There have been other routes to take but stubborn as I am (plus the opportunity to continue studying was too great to turn down), I chose to press on. I'm not regretting my decision but I'm just so worn out sometimes, I feel like throwing in the towel, especially when the fear of a "better tomorrow" that I'm working towards never coming creeps up on me.

I have dreams and when I dream, I dream BIG. I'm not content with letting my dreams drag on year after year and remain as 'just dreams'. So I push myself to work hard in hope of turning my dreams into reality and that means high expectation of myself and high expectation means higher chance of suffering a disappointment or disappointment(s).

On days like this, I just want the affirmation that I'm doing fine.

Like this, "This is definitely feasible."

Thank you. (:

77. There's much to look forward to.

FRIDAY I'M IN LOVE.

...cos it's a PUBLIC HOLIDAY, I can finally not wake up at 5:30 am.

Following that, there's a long-awaited 2 weeks break the week after next. Thank God for small favors, and a doting boyfriend, too.



All I did was made a passing remark that it would be nice to have a folder in which I can keep all my recipes in order and poof! Houdini appeared at my workplace a day after with a personalized folder. What more can I say?

76. Draw yourself a map.

THE ONLY THING CONSTANT IS CHANGE.

"It's hard to watch people change right in front of you..but the worst part is remembering who they used to be."

That above applies for two people in my life. But I'm done talking about the other.
Today it's Nic.

Hey you pugzywugzy:

I feel sad whenever I see you not smiling the way you used to. It wrenches my heart out when I read those entries of yours that spills with heartbreaking sadness and honesty that you're too proud to let the rest of the world know. It strucked me most when I read the entry you wrote about Junda and I, urging us not to quarrel and to cherish what we have and how anger poisons and clouds our ability to make sensible decisions. And because I've always been your unofficial "guardian", I feel a teeny weeny bit guilty when I am out enjoying being in love while you mopped around the house out of love.

Almost everyday without fail, I spot a bit of sadness and longing in your eyes and much as I want to offer you the world, I know nothing I can give will fill the gaping void in your heart. I was telling Junda about your current state and the metaphor I gave was that you have lost your anchor, which is why you're floating around without an aim now. And he surprised me with a totally different point of view. He said, "She has just been RID OF the anchor, which means she's free to move on now and needs to draw herself a map."

Come to think of it, it makes perfect sense. I guess that's what a partner and being in a relationship has been for you - An anchor. Says who do we need to be anchored down? It gives us a temporary feeling of "safe haven" but it leads us nowhere. So what you really need to do is get your "bearings" right, get used to this sudden found freedom, draw yourself a map and sail away from this depressing chapter of your life. Just like how you're a captain of your own ship, you're the one responsible for your own happiness.

Stop beating yourself up, stop clinging unto the ghost of a 'it could have worked out' relationship. The world would say "It wasn't worth it" but its worth and value can only be measured by how it made you a better person and how much you learnt from it. If She chose to embark on her journey of self-development during her relationship with you, then her value of this relationship must have been real high. And if this relationship wizened you up and made you grow up, then perhaps the world will start to see that it was worthwhile after all.

75. Putting a rein on that swinging mood.

COS YOU HAD A BAD DAY.

We all have bad days; days when we just don't feel like talking, smiling, being happy. For us girls, we attribute it to our monthly 'Pre-menstrual symptoms'. For the rest of the human kind, we call it the 'Moodswings'. Though moodswings are inevitable and ok from time to time, it crosses the line of being ok when it affects everyone you come within 2 metre-radius contact with.

For me, it was the accumulated lack of sleep, endless to-do list AND PMS which resulted in me feeling totally rotten the whole of last week. Not only was I easily irritable, I was an emotional wreck and almost nothing pleases me, not even the weekend that was jammed-packed with exciting events. Looking back, I must've been a company from hell and poor, poor boyfriend had to suck it up and take everything in.

This week started off on a slower pace considering that I took days off to clear my sleep debts (notice this word surfaces from time to time) and not having to work means I get to come home earlier, which means I get to sleep earlier, which then means I wake up to the world a happier and less grumpy person!



So as the title of this entry suggests, 'Putting a rein on that swinging mood' and donning on what I call the 'Happy Glasses' (I just really like this picture so I'm clearly finding ways to insinuate it into the entry).

Mid-year resolution: To take things a little more lightly and not be such a grouchy, snappy bitch and hard-to-please girlfriend.

Thank you for bearing with me. (:

-

Overdue Pictures to welcome the weekend:

This Saturday's must-have:



Alright! 500 word essay awaits me, so is the weekend!

Edit: The 'anal' in me is kicking in. I feel like kicking blogger if it was something tangible now cos the font, ohgod, the FONT!!! WHY IS IT SO SMALL and no matter how I look at it, doesn't look at all like all the previous entries?! (Takes a couple of deep breathes)

74. This is my best explanation.

I'M TOO TIRED TO FEED YOUR NEED.

I always begin my entries with a little quote or some line from a song. It acts sort of like a pre-cursor to the entry if it's somewhat related to it or totally random and unrelated to the entry itself. And today, while I waited for the usual 'brainfart' to kick start my entry, that came to mind.

As my fingers did a hopscotch across the keyboard (seriously, they do cos I type with both my index, only), I watch the words that materialize across the screen and form the foreboding sentence. Only then did I allow myself to admit that this thought has been on my mind for most of the time I am conscious.

It is always 'I' who wasn't there for you, 'I' who neglected you, 'I' who wasn't there to nurse your heartbreak, 'I' who left you lonely, 'I' who shoulders the blame and take on the patchwork-repair of our friendship.

I don't even want to start asking, "What about you?"

'I' am NOT ok. 'I' have overestimated my tolerance level and 'I' am weak and exhausted and it's time to admit that I need to give up this act of pretence. The pretence that things are good, or will get BETTER, the pretence that not a single thread of our patchwork friendship is out of place. The truth is ugly and the truth is, everything is unravelling, everything is bursting at the seams.

I'm feeling the strain. The strain of having my feet in a pair of shoes that I grew up wearing and loved that doesn't fit anymore. It's painfully plain and straightforward - both the wearer and the shoe feels the strain and one or the other will call it quits one day.

We've changed. You love to bask in the company of friends whereas I now seek solace in solitude and rejoice when I could snooze for an extra 3 minutes without missing the morning bus. You reminisce the times we talk every night. Truth is I hardly talk on the phone to ANYONE and when I do, I end up spitting fire at my boyfriend because I'm too tired.

You talk about vulnerability of friendships but has it occurred to you that I am human and feel vulnerable too? You make me feel like I have the responsibility to fill up all the empty pockets in your timeslot, that I have to give you priority slot of my time - how can I do so when I hardly have time for myself? You then attribute it to the presence of a partner in my life. If I may summon a witness in this "court and jury", I would put my boyfriend on the stand and make him declare how much of my time he has and during the measly time, how much cheerlessness, disquietude and angst he had to put up with.

You feel the strain of not having me around. I feel the strain of being constantly needed by you and the strain of feeling 'indebted' when you complain I'm never there.

I'm way below the expectation you have set for me. To meet it I need to give up all that I have meticulously calculated and allocated time for and I don't have it in me to watch the world I carefully built crumble.

I explained to you before and I thought you understood. There is no such thing as a 'flawless' person. This is the best I can give you. I'm sorry I don't have time to be the bestfriend you want me to be.

73. Late for late call.

WE'RE ALL ADDICTED TO PERFECTION,
CRITICS OF OUR CREATIONS.

I mentioned few posts earlier that I now have to re-adjust my body clock to conform to my new culinary practicum aka "bootcamp" hours: 10pm Bedtime / 5:30am Wake-up call.

Have I succeeded? Hmm..uh..eh.. More or less.
Am I enjoying it or growing to like it a teeny weeny bit? NOOO.

However, up till yesterday, I actually did fine and was never, (was close) but NEVER late. (Applause please) Then, yesterday morning I woke up at the first sound of my alarm and DELIBERATELY snoozed it, saying outloud, "The soup is not ready yet."

Minutes went by and suddenly, by some unseen force of nature, I opened my eyes and caught the faint rays of sunshine spilling in from the window. The birds were chirping exceptionally loud (it's usually still dark and quiet if I woke up on time at 5:30 am). My eyes darted to the clock sitting atop the television and propelled by the time it showed AND my heart attack, I sprang out of bed and made it in/out of the shower, out of the house and onto the bus in record time. The way I ran, you would've thought I was training for the Youth Olympics.

I'm no Gordon Ramsey-wannabe to actually eat, drink, breathe and dream about cooking. I think it's probably the number of hours I spent cooking during culi prac and the lack of sleep that has my body conditioned to thinking it hasn't "stopped" cooking even during the 4 hours of my supposed "periodic state of rest".

And after all that psycobabble, I've yet come to the mainpoint; in which the title was a derivation of. Yesterday, I came close to being late for Culi prac (notice how I always say 'Culi prac' instead of 'school'), today, I WAS LATE.

The reason why I emphasize on 'Culi prac' is because our grades for the semester is base on a daily marking system, as well as that of exams and practicals. Attendance and punctuality, much to my dismay, is one of the components. And because of a certain 6-wheeled public transportation, I was late.

The lecturers were apparently unimpressed by my "Youth Olympic-worthy-sprint". And I am not the least bit impressed with them brandishing their pens (like a fairy would her wand) and just like fairy magic, my marks for the day went "POOF!" right before my contacts-enhanced bambi eyes. At that instant I really wanted to stomp my feet on the ground and stab my stubby finger at the bus's direction and whine, "It's not meee! It's the BUSSS!!! It was stuck at the junction right outside school for TWENNY MEEENITESSS!!!"

But I didn't, would love to, but I didn't. Just gotta suck it up and chalk it to up to a bad day. The irony. I survived reaching school by 7:20 am for a good 3 weeks, but I was late for that ONE day lesson starts at 8:20 am.

72. GO SHOPPING.

WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH, GO SHOPPING.

Or find me at
Candelicious

71. Culinary Prac Preview.

STOP, ROCK & ROLL.



Hola! Culinary practicum orientation today left me high and dry. The "high" came from the excitement of being in an actual Kitchen uniform as a 'Commis Chef' and sitting through the I'd-better-stay-awake-or-die-trying lecture sucked me "dry". I was so tired towards the end of the day I almost fell out of my seat during my power nap on the bus, TWICE. For the past 365 days I've anticipated and waited for this. Now I'm 4 days away from the actual Culinary Practicum and I'm...nervous. My emotions are colliding and creating chaos in me; it's so nerve-wrecking that if I had balls, they would've shrunk.

Next week marks the start of my 18 weeks training in the kitchen; from Garde Manger to Ethnic Cuisine to Baking & Pastry (I'm looking forward to this the least). For someone who has been used to throwing ingredients in by instinct, I can't foresee how I 'm going to survive the rigor of these 18 weeks of stringent "oz by oz, 60 mm by 60 mm" training. That and the biggest obstacle - the MAJOR alteration of my body clock: Bedtime by 10:00pm, awake by 5:30am?! (insert horror music)

On a much much lighter note, I am high to the skies for our flight's booked & we're left with Hotel confirmation! In exactly 6 month's time, I'll bid Singapore gbye and say "SARWADEEKAP THAILAND"! With the beloved boyfriend and Nic in tow, we shall shop till our toes scream "STOP!" Would love to write more but I'm about to be chased off the comp, peace out for now.

All that I'm after is a life full of laughter
As long as I'm laughing with you
I'm thinkin' that all that still matters is love ever after

Last note: I miss you Soldier. Smile as you read this (:

70. Sleep threatens to take over my consciouness.

YOU NEED TO HAVE A SIT-DOWN WITH YOUR EGO.

I can't decide if I like her because of this song or because she sounds like Pink.

Scars
Allison Iraheta

Did I say something stupid?
There goes one more mistake
Do I bore you with my problems?
Is that why you turn away?
Do you know how hard I tried
To become what you want me to be?

Take me
This is all that I've got
This is all that I'm not
All that I'll ever be
I've got flaws, I've got faults
Keep searching for your perfect heart
It doesn't matter who you are
We all have our scars
We all have our scars

You say don't act like a child
But what if it's a father I need?
It's not like you don't know what you got yourself into
Don't tell me I'm the one who's naive
Do you know how hard I've tried
To become what you want me to be?

Take me
This is all that I've got
This is all that I'm not
All that I'll ever be
I've got flaws, I've got faults
Keep searching for your perfect heart
It doesn't matter who you are
We all have our scars
We all have our scars

Come on, just let it go
These are things you can't control
Your expectations, your explanations
Don't make sense to me
You and your alternatives
Don't send me to your therapists
Deep down, I know what you mean
And I'm not sure that's what I wanna be
No

Take me
This is all that I've got
This is all that I'm not
All that I'll ever be
I've got flaws, I've got faults
Keep searching for your perfect heart
It doesn't matter who you are
We all have our scars
We all have our scars
Oh no no no

Did I say something stupid
There goes one more mistake

69. GDP = Great Depression Pusher

MACRO, MICRO, ALL THE SAME.
NUMBERS & I DON'T GEL & THAT'S A SHAME.

Monandry
[n] having one husband at a time

I didn't know there was a word for that! I thought Monogamy applies across the board for both sexes. Ha!

In any case, I figured memories (esp happy ones) have to go down in record (somewhere) so what better place than on an online journal? Unless blogger goes bust one day and closes down, taking along all our journal entries; or something greater and more vicious than the feared Y2K bug eats up all cyber connection and cuts us away from this wonderful creation...I think this cyber-journal should be a safe and ideal place to chronicle my self-deemed 'life-changing' events.

-

On a totally unrelated note, I suddenly recall a particular event that never fails to let me experience the bliss of being in love all over again and sticking by my belief of "Never missing an opportunity to tell someone how much you love and appreciate them", I suppose this long overdue 'after action review' is better late than never.

Mr JD:
Recalling our '100th day' mini celebration, I loved the part where you presented me with an empty bouquet made from scrap pieces of baking paper look-alike most. No doubt waking up to breakfast in bed and himalayan tea latte and carrying my first bouquet of Calla Lilies was one of the best feelings in the world. And it holds so much more meaning only because it's from you.

The past 9 months have been rather tumultuous for both us. Stressful, yes. Trying, yes. Emotionally draining, yes. But we've had our share of happy times and if I were to put it on a scale to measure 'Happy vs Unhappy' moments, I'd proudly say the scale would tip towards the 'Happy' moments.

Alike every relationship, ours wasn't smooth sailing like the Himalayan snow caps (I've never been there so it could be filled with potholes for all we know). We have our own idea and "standards" of perfection and sometimes in the process of finding that "perfection" molded by our individual expectations, we overlook the attraction of our differences that got us both together in the first place.

In the midst of anger and frustration, we wear our defenses high and words being our only weapon to defend our pride, may unknowingly hurt each other and cast the shadow of doubt in us and put a dent in our faith. Judging from our last conversation, the feeling of dejection was strong enough to keep my thoughts straying and awake at this ungodly hour. I don't deny thinking about our constant bickering occurring from our differences and despite it being taxing and putting everything I ever believed in on the line - Between walking away and giving it another shot, I'd choose the latter. (: Plus, it helps that I cast all unhappy memories and differences out the window whenever you're in close proximity.

That said, I love you, differences and all. It seems almost impossible but Alice in Wonderland believed in as many as six impossible things before breakfast; I believe in just one. And that's not impossible!

68. Exhausted.

I ♥ you.

But I am:

tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tried tired tired tired cried tried tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired.

67. To feel is crime.

HUSH, HUSH DARLIN' HUSH HUSH.

I'd be lying if I say "I feel much better" after our phone conversation.
I'd be lying if I say hearing you call yourself a "fucker" didn't break my heart.
I'd be lying if I say it wasn't difficult for me to wear my heart on my sleeve and pour my insecurities out to you.

Adding it all up, it seems the situation would have been better off if I'd lied.

-

Everytime I yearn for something, I trade a bit of "me" to the devil himself. I live in a deluded world where all that matters is that something I yearn for - it seems that with that little bit, the sun shines brighter, the birds fly higher and my world seems better. So I keep up with this trade-off with the devil and keep giving away that little bit of myself until one day I get what I yearn for. Maybe by then, I wouldn't want it anymore because the trade-off took away more than I bargained for.



I wish I could communicate my feelings without hurting yours.

66. Skinny LatteR.

HOPE THIS FEELING LASTS, THE REST OF MY LIFE.


Usually, the first thought that comes into mind when I wake up is, "Shit. I'm late." Not today. I woke up (late as usual), but with an agenda. I washed up and changed into running gear and started with a slow jog down the stairs and to the park. Now I'm back and I've decided that Sugarcult's 'Memory' makes a good running song.

And I've also decided that I still detest running but I need to face the demons in order to lose weight, right?

I have a touch of PMS, which means:

I'm bloated.
I feel fat.
I don't feel beautiful.
Did I mention FAT?!

And at 23 (coming), I still have a hell lot of teenage angst. Whoever told me I was beautiful? You're full of crap. I looked into the mirror today and it struck me that fat can never be beautiful. Everything associated with 'Skinny' is cool and sells. Ever heard of people buying 'Fatties'??? No! Everyone wants a pair of 'Skinnies', in every shade possible.

Today's one of those days I can't find anything to wear, everything makes my stomach stick out, my already big thighs huge and bigger than Mount Everest and my breasts feel compressed; like your face pressed against the glass door in a crowded train. Add to that the fact that I have been screwing up my body alarm and kept semi-conscious for the past few nights for fear of menstruation leaking unto the mattress.

This may never start.
We could fall apart
And I'd be your memory.

I'm sitting here, still clad in my running gear and I smell the sweat. Skinny people perspire - fat people sweat.

I can never get bored of writing to nobody.

65. Everything will fall in place.

IT'S ONE OF THOSE SONGS YOU'LL PLAY ON REPEAT BECAUSE IT COMFORTS YOU.

It comes to you when you least expects it; and you think to yourself, "This is it." Then, some unforeseen circumstances comes along and yanks it rudely out of your reach; along with your dreams and hopes now built around it - just as unexpectedly as the opportunity presented itself in the first place. And you think to yourself, "This is it."

Fate teases you; yet somehow, everything will fall in place.

64. Excited much.

80 by 80.

It's been so long. The idea of painting again has got me quivering with anticipation.

63. Lucky me for having you.

THE CHARMING ONE WHOSE BIRTHDAY FALLS ON 1ST DECEMBER.

If I had to write down the name of the person responsible for the smile on my face each time, your name would fill up the book.

-

I should be so lucky
...to have you.

62. First post in 2010.

BABY, YOU'RE THE BEST PART OF MY DAY.



2009 was great 'cause that's when I got you.
Wonder what 2010 has got in store for me?

61. December 2009

SOMETIMES YOU'VE GOT TO SACRIFICE THE THINGS YOU LIKE.

This blog has been overwhelmingly quiet; neglected. December has always been a busy month. In the weeks that has gone by, I celebrated the soldier's birthday (along with many other December-babies), survived my mid-term tests, met up with some friends (not as many as I'd love to) and had a full-fledge Birthday Party.



I never got around to jolt down on this little cyber "diary" of mine the events that took place during the birthday and the party, but if I read this entry years later and forget why it's the best birthday party of 2009, I must be stupid.














♥ ♥ ♥

& really, I'm not showing off. HELL YEAH I AM.
This is what you get for having an utterly creative and artistic boyfriend (not to mention wickedly good at giving surprises, too).

Never one to be mooshy mushy but never one to be wishy washy either;
so thank you for letting me live my dream of life full of laughter.

I ♥ you very much yo.

60. Sinful Wishlist

SINFUL INDULGENCE(S).

This Mocha Baby


...or this.

59. Rainbow in a syringe.

RAINBOW IN A SYRINGE. MANY SYRINGES ACTUALLY.



If each coloured syringe represents an emotion, I'd have the ability to choose how I want to 'feel' simply by injecting myself with it. Wouldn't that be nice.

58. My House!

THIS IS JUNDA TYPING HERE FOR BELL...


This is my house.
I love my house.
I love the trees.
House loves me.


My House!

57. Three Words For My Boyfriend.

YOU'VE HEARD THIS MORE THAN A THOUSAND TIMES;
but nothing's gonna stop me from saying it over & over again.

1 more week;
7 days;
168 hours;
till I see you again.

56. Re-connecting.

PRISSY, TIRED & DEPRIVED OF FOOD, SHOPPING & BOYFRIEND'S HUGS.
Upon reading this "forewarning", it would be wise to clear the path and steer out my wrath.

But nooo, somebody just had to do a dance on my last nerve. I'm surprised I was able to bite my tongue and hold back the things I was dying to say. I know my anger often reveals me as a spoilt, insensitive 'bitch' who's best at shooting people down with angry words (half of which are brutal honesty, the other half are, of course, a figment of my imagination) and often, when I read the entries in retrospect, I feel I'd somehow over-reacted and the situation then seemed very much more amusing than it actually seemed when emotions were clouding my judgement.

Whew. All that in one breath. And if I'd actually built the suspense unintentionally, I apologize for I am not revealing the trigger factor of my anger. Let's just chalk it up to a "bad day" and consider it the last favour free labour I'm doing for her.

Stars. Ha! I feel like making those little Ninja throw-knives and use them on you instead. Ahhh, the joys of being a door-mat.

Keep calm & carry on.



Yes, disconnected. Especially with Mister JD aka Boyfriend. 26 days in some ulu desert in Australia with poor reception and whatever coverage. We can't even enjoy a decent 5 minute phonecall without either one of us hollering into the phone after a minute or two cause of the poor reception. Oh did I already mention poor reception?

Apart from being 'disconnected' from him, there's also the friends cause I'm always on the ball - running off to work and whatnots but, on a lighter note, I'm making progression and have been catching up with friends. "Awesome" -Nic

I had Dane for lunch (deliberate pun) and Hazel & Twins for dinner (dinner comprised of bread & sushi actually), throw in a tear-jerking movie - perfecto.


Our "60-minute Extreme Lunch date" as he calls it; complete with Ice Kacang and Camwhoring.

Ha! Judging from this one shot, you'd be able to guess without a doubt who edited these pictures!


...& a mini-me!!! Now, I've always wanted one of this!


:D

Next on the meet-up list: Gloria & Denise and Nart.
Meanwhile it's still work, school, work and counting down to Mister JD's return.

-

I just opened the room door to let the cat out and the gush of nice, air-condition-cooled air rushed out and tickled my nose with a very pleasant scent of Glades green tea; thanks to Nic. and I guess that would make a nice epilogue to today's entry. gnight.

55. Officially missing you, Ng Junda.

OFFICIALLY MISSING YOU, NG JUNDA.
It's been a billion months since I last wrote.



It's official, you know I'm missing you.

54. Gif Surprise.

FRIDAY I'M IN LOVE.

"SUPPLIES."

53. Second Best.

SCRUMP GRUMP.

As long as I don't think about it, I feel okay.
I'll be back with a happier entry tomorrow because this aside, there are happier events.

52. 想太多

LOVE SONGS HAVE EMOTIONS BLEEDING OUT OF THEM.

“ 他霸占了你的心中属于我的角落。”

Chinese love songs are so poignant.