All grown up and nowhere to go

Archive for the ‘love’ Category

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Eh I discovered the below note under my draft posts… It’s dated back to 2008 I think. Wonder when and if I’ll ever feel this kind of emoness over a guy again.

I miss him.

8 hours of time difference is really cruel. My night is his day, and during the day he has to go to school which leaves us with maybe an hour of decent talk time.

I miss him physically being there. Touching his muscled arms and toned abs, wishing I have a flat tummy too…

I miss shopping with him. I miss hugging each other tightly and trying to walk at the same time.

I miss playing with his hair, flicking up the ends and messing with his parting.

Today, I rediscovered the fact that I’m not a very good poker player. Was so disappointed in myself. I had fantastic hands in which I betted too aggressively too soon. I had mediocre hands in which I betted too aggressively as well. I was impatient the whole night. I suppose quarreling doesn’t help, in which case I shouldn’t have started playing before I cooled down.

But whatever. I was playing a game with unknown stakes, only knew the real stakes after it was over. And it results in me only retiring at 3.30 am in the morning, compounded by the Story of the Pillow.

The Story of The Pillow:

I bought a new pillow yesterday. Jap brand, very pouffy and soft. Syd said all pillows have the same size so I had no qualms. So just now at 3.15 am I was removing the pillow cover off the old, flat, lifeless and probably droolfull old pillow and putting it over the new Jap one.

No matter how much I squeezed, it still wouldn’t go in. Honest. Even the chambermaid at Ritz Carlton who should be expert at making beds would not have managed to squeeze the Jap pillow in. It’s just too pouffy for my flat pillow cover.

So I suppose it’s true that there’s only one pillow size in Singapore, but it’s a different size from the uni-size pillow of Indonesia, which was where my pillow cover was from.

But anyway, that episode left me very frustrated. I’m currently resting my back against a misshapen lump that’s the half-squeezed in Jap pillow. Its shape wouldn’t budge no matter how much I whacked it, as if a testimony of my failure.

But I do digress. Despite the fact that the digression is partly relevant as it results in much added frustration. In fact, I’m starting to feel like a relationship is just like pillow-cover-fitting. Sometimes, when you buy a potentially comfortable-looking pillow, it might not work out. Because the pillow simply wouldn’t fit the cover no matter how hard you squeeze it. In the end, you end up sweaty and upset, your pillow cover ripped and you can’t even punch the stubborn pillow to hurt it because your fist will just bounce right back.

And I’m just wondering, you can’t throw away the pillow after you’ve just bought it. So what, do you take the time to sew a new pillow cover after getting the pillow’s measurements right? Or do you simply hang on day by day, hoping to fit the cover onto the pillow by some lucky break one night? To be honest, the latter sounds quite stupid and it is indeed stupid.

Sewing a new pillow cover takes time though, and it needs the pillow’s co-operation. What if everytime you put a tape measure over it, the pillow slides right through? Despite the fact that you’re showing the pillow that you’re trying your best, the pillow keeps quiet and doesn’t say anything, and repeats its act every night of not getting into the pillow cover.

Frickin’ Japanese pillows. Goddamnit.

It’s been ape years since I last blogged, and don’t wanna talk about work because it’s too depressing so yes, let’s talk about that ex-significant other who got away.

Everyone has them. The Ones Who Got Away, I mean. For each person there’s that particular ex-lover/fling/bf/gf who left and left you devastated. You know, that boy you met and dated for two weeks and then never called you back. Or the one night stand that still burns your mind whenever you think about her. Or the girlfriend of five years who suddenly freaked out and cut off all contacts. Basically, The One Who Got Away is the one person you’re no longer with but still think about from time to time, wondering ‘what if?’, etc etc. The One Who Got Away left you with a scar, but you still sort of fancy them, sort of.

Wonder why that is? I suppose it is human nature to always long for something that you know you can’t have. It’s the idea that attracts you to The One Who Got Away. The person him/herself may not necessarily be all that. My theory is that, if The One Who Got Away did not in fact get away, you may discover that the spark disappears pretty quickly.

But because they DID get away, they become all that more attractive.



Or not. I is gonna sleep. Tired.

Jing needs to air her room badly. Smells like alcohol in there. I woke up earlier and talked to her mum, then her mum wanted to wake her up. Started walking towards the room and I was like OMG CANNOT THE SMELL IS SUPER STRONG. I think I got her out of the room before anything registered, but she saw the fluffy hairband I put on Jing to hold her hair up when she wanted to hurl. Yeah okay I couldn’t find any normal-looking hairband, it was 4.30 am in the morning.

But anyway… this is an emo post. I really miss the cbkia, it’s just a burst of feeling out of a sudden. I talked to him before I slept because I remembered how he took care of me when I was sick following our Amst trip. I kept on whining and he stuck through it all, he kept comforting me and didn’t get pissed at all even when he had to lug most of our barangs AS WELL AS ME, who was teetering all over and generally very unglam.

I think that episode made me love him more, on top of letting me see that he confirm-plus-chops loves me deeply. If he didn’t love me he wouldn’t let me breath snot onto his sweater starting from the plane ride to the transfer bus to the tube to the DLR.

I didn’t tell him all this yesterday night though, because 1) it’s kind of a mouthful and 2) I’m trying to keep my voice down because someone else in the room, oh She with the fluffy hairband, was sleeping peacefully. Actually her sleeping position was quite unglam but I shall not kiss and tell. Hur hur hur. Or hurl hurl hurl? 😛

And then this morning was about to drop him a lovey-dovey message on fb (phone died) and what do I find on his fb wall? Some girls writing looong loooong messages to him with stuff like hee hee and xoxo. But it’s okay, I shall keep cool as cucumber and not let on that I’m irritated that I don’t have guys to FWI with. (flirt without intention)

Nowadays if a fella tries a line on me I probably wouldn’t know how to respond to it. For example, yesterday a paunchy ang moh tried to get us to ‘just have a few drinks’ and to ‘not be afraid’ and all I can say in reply was to shout out ‘we’re not afraid, we’re disgusted’. What kind of comeback was that? I could’ve said, “Sorry, we prefer guys even older than you.” or “Sorry, you’re not bald enough for us” or “Sorry, we’re racist.”


I suck. and I emo. 😦

Was initially very lazy to go on account of extremely pale skin, but I suppose one has to start somewhere. I think Neutrogena was one of the sponsors. The spray-on sunblock is really spiffy. SPF45, no wiping required, and nary a tanline.

Syd was obviously on the platform… 😀 But she looks gorgeous and erm, filled.

We were made to wait for approx 3 years before they started the shoot.

Spot the identical suits!

One of the attractions was a brush-on tattoo booth. Why get real when you can get fake? Speaking of which, I don’t know when I’ll ever find time to get that coupley tattoo with the cbkia, since we cannot for the love of us decide on a theme. cbkia, how about this Maori symbol?

The Single Twist

“It represents the joining together of two people. Even though sometimes people move away, their journey of life will have their paths cross again. The single figure eight represents the path of life, it is the eternity symbol. (The single twist is different to the double or triple twist in that it refers to individual people, where the double and triple twist refers more to the joining of peoples, or cultures)”

This post is about being motionless in all the meanings of the word.

 YZ has flown off back to London. Won’t get to see him for at least another 3 months. I need to book my flight there and book it soon, but I’m kinda afraid of telling my parents that I want to spend at least a month overseas for a grad trip cum boyfriend visit. It’s all fine and dandy if I can afford the trip on my own, but if they disapprove they have the financial strength to stop me from going. So I’m just really scared.

 Anyway. Now that he’s gone, it’s like the motion picture has ended and normal life has to resume. No more cabbing to his place and then walking over to Cold Storage to buy donuts and groceries. Ordering Mac breakfast for him and waiting for him to reach my place. Attempting to study / plan our trip and ending up playing online poker instead. Watching rented DVDs and driving over to Macs in the midst of it because of hunger pangs. The occasional splurge at Orchard. And when he crashed my BP class, he was online shopping for a pair of sneaks from Paul Smith on sale. On impulse (because I just found out I wasn’t gonna be jobless after all) I told him to use my debit card to pay with. He obliged, since his HSBC one wasn’t working.

 His absence just made it all the more obvious how difficult this is gonna be. Especially if he keeps telling me how fat my cheeks are. *Sigh*. Life’s hard.

I can’t seem to get anything together. My citizenship application is still pending, my CFA registration is still pending (because the scholarship code isn’t working), I’ve still got to take fresh passport-sized pictures for job purposes… I guess the latest one was quite a flaky complaint, but then again I can barely walk at normal speed so it really is that troublesome to move my butt down to a photo studio.

The Reason Why I Can Barely Walk at Normal Speed

Last Sunday, after sending YZ off, I was lying on my couch reading Gossip Girl. Fell asleep. Felt uncomfortable on the couch and wanted to shift to my room to continue my nappy nap. Groggily woke up, felt giddy because of a blood condition I have which causes a lack of oxygen. I saw some obstacle blocking my way (think it was my sis or something), tried to avoid it, then tripped. Left foot gave way, something snapped, and then I screamed. It. Was. Fucking. Painful.

Two A&E visits and days later, discovered that not only did I:

a) fracture the side bone
(me: ‘is it what you’ll call a hairline fracture?’
doctor: ‘no. It is a fracture. A small one, but a fracture.’)

I also

b) tore a ligament
(orthopedic: ‘we’ll need to do an MRI, it might be torn completely and you’d have to go for surgery.’
me: ‘what’s the probability that a trip will cause a complete tear?’
orthopedic: ‘… we’ll see after the MRI.’).

So in a day I busted over $1.5k on medical bills and received more drugs than I can pop inside my mouth. Anti-swelling, painkillers, calcium tablets, muscle relaxants, anti-muscle relaxants… Some to be taken after food, three times a day, twice a day, once every morning while avoiding caffeine, twice a day before food, at bedtime… blah di blah di blah. I’d need to draw up a diagram just to get them all right.

 And I get to wear a brace, supposedly for 8 weeks! Yippee! Now what I’ll do is, once the swelling goes down (and it is… very slowly… but it is…) I’d just wear the brace around the house. I can’t keep wearing my mum’s oversized driving slippers to school. It drives me nuts.

 To suspend my life in vacuum for a little bit longer, I’m gonna watch Gossip Girl and pretend that nothing is happening. No school. No injured foot. No boyfriend flying off to acquire a Brit accent (Dr Tan, I want to hear that accent soon! Haha).

I love you. 😦

July 2018
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