.good shit happens to us too.

The Giant Biatch finally returned my text today… and so our text exchange went something like this… …

 

Giant Biatch: … what happened to your blog? Blog woman blog!

Me: … I’ll blog when there’s sth happy to blog about…

…

…

Giant Biatch: Then you might as well close down your blog!

zzz

I know it’s been ancient since I last blogged.

Everyone has been talking about the New Year… which after sober-ing up, I found incredibly overrated because honestly, what is so fantastic about being 21 and going back to the damn school…

And basically all the good HAPPY stuff… Which I’ve grown to detest.

This new year has been everything but clean and good.

Epiphany of the night: We are too old to give sai about hanging out with people who don’t make you feel good about yourself

Will update more next entry!

love shoelacesuntied

.work hard, party harder.

Today I opened an email from atee and it went…

“Hello friends!

 We are currently missing a plan for New Year’s, but more importantly everyone has a task for new year’s! We have decided that everyone is to come up with something  interesting/exciting/novel that we can all do together next year. We are becoming boring people and that must not continue on if we only have 2 more years to live!!!! So yea, ideas please!…..”

Yes we have become boring people!

Just the other day before Christmas drinking, I met linglingting at sixth ave coffee bean to “chill” and “hang out” (does it sound very ah-lian when I say it? eek). And all we ended up doing was to drink coffee and read our own books/magazines individually. Besides the ocassional grunts about the fugly/pretty clothes shown in the magazines, and the serious discussion of whether my friend who was hankay-pankaying with his girlfriend right IN FRONT of the counter was carrying his girl on his lap… We couldn’t even be bothered to talk to each other zzz!!!

A few things I did over the holidays…

1) Five days with the family in Malaysia… I sent texts to the BFF every other day asking her to “Kill. Me. Now.”. The last night at Genting was surprisingly fun though, slightly surreal but fun. Met the woman over there so we went to some sleezy pub that played Hokkien music to drink our disgust with genting away.

2) Clubbing night with the girlfriends was good fun. I found out a few things: Woo is the most violent dancer ever… her favourite dance move is to punch the air with her fist (beware if you’re dancing with her because she might box you in the face if you stand too close). Keeps has the best stamina, she was still dancing with such rigour when we left zouk at 330a.m it put all the hard-core party queens/kings to shame. Linglingting is a walking compass, she managed to find me standing outside zouk’s toilet half drunk, dragged me fiercely by the arm and jostled her way through the dance crowd to find the rest. The bitch makes me repeat this story to EVERYONE… how she managed to find everyone without a phone. Urgh. 

The one thing I found out about myself: I am the kind of loser drunkard whom people would not know I’m drunk till I mention my memory loss the next day… Gak!

3) In between the krazy drinking and burning of lungs, I managed to kick in some holiday reads. I just completed “paddy clarke ha ha ha” by Roddy Doyle, it was quite an interesting and easy read, the kind that you do not have to mull over paragraphs of boring descriptions about the scenery etc. I’m currently half way through “the catcher in the rye” by J.D. Salinger, another good read. Don’t need to use too much brain, I likeee.

.

.

EJ asked me after training today what would my new year resolution be, and I replied shits like “to grow taller, smarter, thinner…”

But now that I’ve given it some thought, my new year resolution would be to find more excitement in life. My uncle passed away recently over the holidays; heart attack in the middle of the night, extremely sudden. This was the first time I attended the wake of someone I cared about. I wouldn’t say I’m really close to this uncle of mine, but he is the familiar face at the big family gatherings. The thing I remembered most about my uncle was that he was always ready to give grown-up fatherly advice whenever you needed it. I remembered him advicing me on what course to take in university, how important my studies are e.t.c.

The funeral was rather intense and emotional, and as all funerals do, they leave you with a sense of awakening (somewhat).

I remembered texting the bff after the cremation service saying “Life is short, we should work hard, and party harder”.

-_-

.we will do okay zzzz.

The holidays are almost over and I’m left feeling jaded (not from all the par-taying mind you tsk!)… and just wanting to languish in my own melancholy… Or rather, self-pity. Call me narcissistic, but aren’t the holidays meant for you (or your friends) to pick up your broken pieces so you can glue the fragments back together as best as you can? As you prepare yourself for the whole new battle that is about to start, the self-pity comes inevitably. You feel sorry for all the things that you could have done but did not get about doing, you feel sorry for the under-achieving life that you THINK you are living, you feel sorry for being a loser in many aspects of your life (be it in trivial shit like your appearance or things like how your love-life is still non-existant *think shrivelled old woman at 62 drinking a martini by herself at some sleezy pub… Dear friends, please pick me up and pack me home. Thank you*)….

And after the self-indulgence (some would follow with incessant and hysterical crying), comes the empty promises you start making to yourself. That you would work harder in school/work, that you would finally get round to losing weight, that you would stop being afraid and belittling yourself  because you are really the loser you think you are… … then you remember that you make these promises to yourself every hol and so you tell yourself that this would be the last time.

I did the self-pitying.

I did the promises to self.

.

.

.

And with that, as we get our blinking act together and get ready to trudge ahead, we remind ourselves again that we will do okay. Not so much because we really truly believe it, but because we have to. We need to. And when we can’t, we turn to our friends and family to let them remind us.

Happy holidays everyone!

.kill me now.

8.45p.m.- started rummaging through my wardrobe for decent clothes to wear

9.15p.m.- gave up on finding decent clothes (my mum always loses my clothes in the washing machine!) and settled on old faded t-shirts and jeans.

9.30p.m.- went on a frantic search for my passport! (Decided that it was an emergency so I mobilized the whole family! My stupid brother started muttering cuss words and gave me the evil glare because he was in the midst of some lame cartoon… I have such intolerable family members)

10.36p.m.- found my passport chuck deep down in the bag I brought along with me to JB months back

 

Bahhhhhhh

 

 

I am going to Malaysia for FIVE freaking days with the family. Kill me now.

with friends like these…

Me (in a panic): … SHIT my english is like alibaba right now… You have to laugh at me if I pronounce words like a china man or have shit grammar okay okay?

Queen Slut: … … but that would involve me laughing 24/7!!!

 

In a separate text to the L,

 

Me: … I hate interviews… I can’t think on my feet and I SQUEAK… (and for a dramatic finish… I ended my text with)… I’M HOPELESS!!

L: … We can play thinking games!

 

-_-

.fat and fatter.

I FINALLY met rosieflower a few days back for a cup of coffee after a crazy evening at this sleezy pub near school.

For those who don’t know, rosieflower’s an old OLD OLD friend. She has seen me FAT(or shall I say FATTER than now), when I had thick bushy wavy hair that would perpetually cover half of my face (I thought I was cool then)… when I was in a mess and wailing about Ms Leong (this teacher who was a BI-YATCH to me).

I used to see her ALL THE TIME. Before I moved a few blocks down the road, we used to live like a five-mins-walk away from each other. And it didn’t help that her mum used to be my chinese tutor. Every saturday, I would drag myself to her house for tuition LATE, pretending to pant like a dog so I would not get into trouble. After a while, her mum started to get rosieflower to call me at my house phone when tuition started to see if I would pick up. I was busted a few times watching the telly and refusing to leave on time for tuition.

Even when we were young and naive *gag*, we were super calculative with our friendship. We would always insist on meeting at this playground that was right in the middle of our houses. That playground was one of the main reasons why we were such good friends back then I have to say. When we were in primary school, we went on many obstacle races around the playground. We would scratch our knees crawling through the tunnel and racing like mad just to come in first. And when we started to out grow that, we would climb on top of the tunnel and talk about EVERYTHING under the sun. Rosieflower used to praise me for being brave and strong for daring to climb on top of the tunnel till she finally managed to one time and she realised it was no big deal. But I was smug about it for quite a while.

Though it was a really short coffee session, it was good catching up. We were both fighting to get our stories in and update each other about all the exciting things that had happened thus far.

 

 

She said that I’ve changed.

 

 

I told her, I know.

.Here comes November.

September flew by just like THAT *think tyra banks on America’s next top model doing the cool zig-zag-snap-fingers movement…*

Hell, October is almost over!

And I’m a little confused. I have grown a year older but none the wiser. No I did not get drunk on my birthday. No I did not par-teh like Lindsay Lohan when she turned 20. No I have not gotten the rocking tat that I’ve been raving about for the longest time ever (i can imagine the indian friend- let me call her Queen Slut- rolling her eyes right now).

My life has reached a stagnant point really. And to be honest, I have not been feeling very happy for a while now. It’s not because anything bad has happened to me. I mean I did lose my whole fucking wallet and phone a while back. And I did so fuck up school. But it really isn’t all that. (Excuse the profanities… Which does remind me of my older cousin, who came up to me during one of the most boring wedding dinners I have ever attended a while back, and said “wow our baby cousin is all grown up, you used the F-WORD on facebook”. *gag* But that’s besides the point. Oops?)

That aside, I really hate the fact that sometimes, when I just want to sulk in my own misery and be all narcissistic, I feel obliged not to. Because some person out there has a much more serious problem that everyone can identify with and feel sorry for. Someone who actually has a fucking problem. And I don’t! I mean at least not one that I can put my fingers on right now. Alright, I know that this sounds all bull shit and the friends will probably call me on this melodramatic crap and knock me to my senses. But I do hate a lot of things in my life at the moment. Being short for one. All the Not-Happenings for two- is there such an expression? My english is alibab right now-. And honestly, preaching is the last thing I want at the moment.

Alright I shall stop this theatrical melt-down and sort it out in my sleep.

 

Bahhhh.

 

LINGLING: Bitch you left me to rot and dieeeeee in smooo… we need to drink like there’s no tomorrow sooon!

 

 

 

.The Witch.

I am currently sitting at (what I hope to be) an inconspicuous corner of the National Library, patiently waiting for the BFF to be done with class so that we could do coffee together. I haven’t seen the BFF much this hols (even though we had a 4 month -but way too short- break).

 Anyhoo, the reason why I bothered to lug my heavy laptop out from my bag and am typing excitedly right now is because I have spotted The Witch. Again.

 The Witch was sitting at her usual spot on this black armchair at a turn just beside the library entrance when I entered. She has a crooked and -somewhat- hooked nose (kind of like the witches in the Roald Dahl book that was made into a movie), on which her large brown plastic spectacles hung awkwardly. I have to say that the main reason why I had named her The Witch was simply because of the ugly distinct bumps on her nose (much like that of Phua Chu Kang’s mole) which she tries to hide with her huge spectacle frame. I remember coming to this library several times over the holidays; and every time I came, she was always sitting on that particular  armchair with her legs folded comfortably to the side, wrapped with a red blanket-like jacket.  Very often, she would be staring intently at some fiction book, too engrossed to notice anyone who walks pass her (or in my case, who sneaks darting peeks at her). Occasionally, she would put her book down and start biting her nails. She has made herself so comfortable it’s much like she lives on that armchair really.

 

 

Anyhoo, The Witch (no matter how witchy-ly awkward she looks) has become a familiar face that I would expect to see everytime I pop by the National Library.

 

To The Witch: Till our next meeting! Be well cause I know you’re kind.

.to a better life ahead.

And so as the summer holidays came to an end last night, woowoo, yams, yaytee, choonie and I gathered at the “rooftop” bar at the mint museum to catch up on our lives so far. We thanked the universe for our healthy bodies, we sulked when woowoo reminded us that school is about to start, we bitched about the music in the bar till the owner relented and started playing some mambo tunes. We even gave jack neo a piece of our minds for commenting that eric khoo’s movies were too difficult for the average singaporean to understand! As the night progressed and our inane conversations grew more serious, there were clink-clanks of alcohol and many MANY toasts to “a better life“, “money money money“, “more drinks and nights of mayhem” and “a life rid of stupid people“.  (I added the last toast for us).

It was a good night.

 

The past four months have been crazy (and lazy). Just a quick summary of the things I did/ accomplish this hol:

1) Hong Kong

Hong Kong was good fun. Yams and I shopped till we dropped (literally). We almost didn’t have enough cash to cab back to the airport! On one of our most life-changing experiences ever, Yaytee and I dared each other to take The Abyss at Ocean Park. On our way up, I swear she cursed like I’ve never seen her did before. It started with a slow heart-felt “fucccckkkkkkkkkkkkkk fucccccccccccckkkkkkk” which sped up into quick intermittent injections of “fuck this”, “oh fuck” and ”fuck fuck fuck” (her vocabulary is a bit limited) as we shot to the top (awaiting the great free-fall). We were changed people after the ride (thinking about how great this universe is)- well, for at least a half hour.

2) Drinking at Hong Kong

On the plane ride to Hong Kong, yaytee, yams and I kicked start our trip with a can of red shiraz wine. And it was on that note that we clung onto the entire trip. Our drinking night at Lam Kwai Fong definitely made it to top-three on my “greatest-hongkong-moments” list. Despite it being on a hill (which makes it not good for drunken tumbling), Lam Kwai Fong is a pretty cool place to visit at night. Maybe it was because we ended up in a bar opened by a friendly foreigner who bought us alcocol, most probably because we did shots and had quite a few rounds of “nothing” (some specialty drink), I had this sudden urge to move to Hong Kong and never return back. Of course this thought only lasted a few hours till I was reminded how pressurizing it was to live in Hong Kong… the staff at the eateries were always coercing us to order our food IMMEDIATELY upon arrival, people on the streets were often walking at god-light speed, even the trains arrived so fast we didn’t have any excuse to be late anymore! BUT besides all of that, I absolutely heart drinking in Hong Kong!

3) The afternoons

Over the past few months, I’ve spent countless afternoons in bed watching inane reality shows like The Hills, refusing to budge even when the skin-cancerish sunrays have shone THROUGH the lousy curtains my mum bought. As I competed with the menacing sunrays for a cool spot on the bed, I’m often left stuck in an awkward position at the end of the day. Despite the ocassional backaches arising from the clumsy postures I have grown accustomed to lying in, I really enjoyed my afternoons. It was lazy. It was brain-less. And it was me, myself and I.

4) My indian friends

It’s kinda weird how I term this new bunch of friends I made in smoo law “my indian friends”. I think having been in SAP (chinese) schools all my life, I have become rather culturally impaired. I remembered being so shock over coffee at gloria jeans with two of my indian friends (there I go again!) when I discovered that this other indian friend is actually a Punjabi! I had known her for two semesters, I had partied/sheesha-ed with her, and I had met up with her at least once a week over the hols! To think that I had thought the silver bangle that she always wore around her wrist was a fashion statement. Eek. Anyways, this sheesha session at Arab st on a suppossed girl’s night out confirmed my suspicions about my indian friends. They curse like sailors, they know how to have good fun, they work extremely hard when it comes to school but not to the extent that they get competitive and refuse to share their notes with you, And they are all related somehow. Some friend’s friend can, over a few smokes, be another friend’s brother’s best friend. Everyone knows everyone. And finally being the minority race (and the shortest) whenever I hang with them, I curse and swear like I never had before.  :D

 

Anyways, that pretty much sums up my entire holidays.

School (Hell) is starting but we”ll all survive! Yikes!