Who says only dirty old men wear white singlets?

Selamat Hari Raya

It has always been a favourite pastime of mine; people-watching. Only at this time of the year, it gets a lot more interesting.

I like the Hari Raya festival. I always make it a point to get out of house, and simply feast my eyes on the explosion of colours. The malay traditional costumes are simply breathtaking. Creamy whites, brillant golds and silvers, velvety blacks and browns, lovely soft lilac and rose pastels, striking emeralds and sapphires. A smorgasboard of colours, sometimes it gets too a little too much for the eyes. But 'tis such a pleasant visual strain.

Their dresses never fail to make every woman look like a princess. (Nudges Khairyn!) Those long graceful outfits, some painstakingly embroidered with intricate designs, some bejeweled with sparkling rhinestones, some mysteriously veiled with a wisp of chiffon. It hints of the curves that the silk hides, but yet never really revealing them. The femmine cut of the gown lends elegance to the wearer, and portrays grace. Can't you tell by now, how absolutely enamoured I am by the malay traditional costume? (:

It's always such a novelty to me, when I see families donning the same shade of colour. It warms the heart, to see such displays of family unity. You might not have it, but hell nobody will ever know from looking at your bloodkins. A cluster of purple, a flock of red. Teenage daughters looking gorgeous in peacock blue, younger brothers looking equally adorable in the same shade. Some think it's humliating, but I for one, admire the togetherness the costumes displays. If you ain't afraid of wearing your class tee shirt with about 20 other people, why should you cower in shame wearing the same colour as your own blood? Come on, hold your head up high and walk a little straighter, you should be proud. Do you think the other races can do the same? Not very likely. Be proud of your culture, I would if I were you. Your culture is rich and your traditions are still not that long lost yet. It's something worth gloating.

Tell me, when the Lunar New Year rolls around, what are the chances you will be able to get a glimpse of a qipao or a cheongsam? Not very high. You can't really blame us either, the form-fitting oriental dress seem to be made for women with disgustingly perfect proportions. Flat chest, big ass or a tummy? Forget it. You will never look good. Admittedly, when one has the figure, the dress will look infinitely sexy. But tell me, how many women in the world has barbie-like silhouttes?

Oh well, you might call it a blessing in disguise. Because of our impossible traditional costumes, nobody ever wears it now. Hence, chinese new year is another excuse for us youths to spend daddy or mommy's bucks to get trendy new skirts, tops and the latest jeans. Don't get all self-righteous on me, you know that as well as I do. But hey, who's complaining? (:

Alright so I'm way digressing now. But veering back to topic, to all muslims out there, Selemat Hari Raya and wear your gorgeous clothes with pride! You've got the envy of the lady here.

P.S Lisda, Khairyn, Shahril(s) - I still want those photos!

Grammer, where art thou?

Why do people like to say they are SADDED? Does that make sense to you? Fine if you're SAD, okay with me if you're sadder than sad, or even saddest. But you DO NOT become SADDED.
It's as if they have attained the optimum level of sadness in their lives, and felt that sad cannot justify their depression anymore and they go around wrecking the English language with words like SADDED. Bloody hell, you do not try to make an adjective a tense. That's like trying to wear plaid with stripes. It clashes. Dig up that old primary one grammer guide, you ought to be burying your face into the book and never coming out until you know the difference between a verb and an adjective.

If you think I sound like a prissy old maid of an english teacher with a rod up her ass, think again. Would you rather go around moaning to people that you are SADDED, and have them trying to stifle their snickers instead of doling out sympathy or would you rather express your unhappiness eloquently? Good God, I know you're broken inside and yadda bam bam, but at least retain a bit of your brain matter please.

Another day, another rant. It seems like the world is in abundance of things for the lady to be pissed off about.

A page out of Tim Burton's

Stick Boy noticed that his Christmas tree looked healthier than he did.

Happy Birthday Adri

The princess is finally seventeen. She with her wisecracks and megawatt smile. She with the silliest expressions and endless energy. The girl always seemed to know exactly when I'm not at my best, and never failed to cheer me up in some way. Love the times at Cafe Galilee, Pizza Hut and Banquet. Life in IJ is never as much fun without you around, sunshine. You're my one and only Khairyn Adriana, and always will be. You can never imagine how many times I asked myself what would have happened if you did not transfer back here. Life would be different and certainly not as fabulous. Happy happy 17th, darling.

I hope you enjoyed the surprise today, the cupcakes and the dinner. Although because of Lissie, Flora and I had to wander like foolish tourists around the blocks trying to find the bloody place to collect the cupcakes. But tt was the usual madness to be around you nuts. The times with you four dears are intoxicating and addictive, it got me hooked and wanting more. So get your act together, people, and GEL! Laughs.

P.S I'm PMSy right now. Not in the mood to talk much. Good night, readers.

This is the 123rd post...

and when I'm up for the 456th post, I'll let you know.

We started out with the intention to meet up for breakfast at Coffee Bean's and heading for school after that. But Eils, was outstandingly late for about an hour and half (Clap for her, please) and by the time she cabbed down, it was already 9. Impulse is a dangerous little thing, it led us to get tickets for 1045's John Tucker Must Die. But every cent of that 7bucks spent was bloody worth it, not only because the movie was my kind of flick, crammed full of uber itchiness, fluffy romances and beautiful people, but the movie theatre had a grand total of three viewers; us. Put three giggling girls into an empty theatre with a gorgeous lead actor, it doesn't take much to guess what will ensue, does it. I will tell you the answer, but my throat still hurts from all the screaming.

The flick left us all swooning and sighing, and Eils had to rush back to school to meet up her PW mates. The transition was a tad blurry, I had no idea how it happened, but somehow Flor and me met up with Lissie (silly girl ditched us in the morning because she overslept and ended up moaning about nobody is going to watch John Tucker with her anymore) to work out at Yishun's gym. I have never been in a public gym before and it was an experience, with people milling around and sour-faced instructors glaring surly at you as if you were about to lug the treadmill and run. But it was overall fun, because of the company. Working out with friends is definitely better than working alone.

So now I'm back home, wiped from the day's shimgles and my folks thought I had an exhausting day in school. Tsk, I hope my conscience would not eat me up alive. Anyhoots, back to school tomorrow and ProjectWork is ready to screw me in the ass all over again.

Good Night, people.

Good Morning

It's 7.18 and I'm still in my jammies, wasting my existence away in front of this marvellous piece of technology called the computer. School's still on today, don't get you panties up ina bunch. I'm skipping school in the morning for Coffee Bean's breakfast with Flor and Eils. And my parents are in blissful oblivion because they are still sleeping their asses off.

This is a meaningless bigmouthnobrain entry simply because I'm bitching hungry and nobody interesting is online. But alright, I'm going to be late in meeting them and all, so toodles darlings. And classmates, if you're reading this, have fun in school! Rat on us, and thou shall perish.

Big hooters

The definition of junior means being smaller than the usual size. Either the people think it's such a hoot to pull off a prank on the customers, or their language just plain sucked. Because the burgers in Carl's Junior is anything but. In fact, it's like the motherlode of burgers. The big momma.

Tong, Mel and I almost gagged ourselves to death trying to fnish two burgers between three of us. But people, the burgers are heaven. It blows your diet completely and absolutely, but damned its good. Burger King and Macdonald's cannot hold a candle to the mighty one. I jest you not. And the onion rings are madness.

Even SHE thinks its good,



But from the looks of it, I will bet my non-anorexic ass that she has never tried any of the burgers before. Or she probably scarfed it down and threw it up when the crew weren't looking.

If Americans eat like this everyday, it's no wonder more than half of their people are overweight. One burger alone is probably enough to clog up your arteries.

And now, I'm off to the gym to burn away all those beef.

P.S It was fun today, girls. It was great seeing you again and the shopping was marvellous. Meet up soon and good luck for the first day of school!

The Magic

I scrambled to find words to describe that moment, digging deep into my apparently fluff-filled frontal lobe. That moment magic, was not worthy of words, somehow or rather, that was what I felt. But Lisda changed my mind when she offered me this quote :

"As happens sometimes a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment. And then the moment was gone."

Fits like old washed out jeans we all love to wear on sloppy days.

Thrashing

PW : 8
TZE : 0

I'm fighting a losing battle over here.

Happy Mid Autumn

It was hard to decipher exactly what that particular sensation falls under. Was it a giddy joy, a mindless ecstasy or maybe a wee bit too much nescafe? And you will try your utmost to locate this feeling, but it slips and slides, like water through cupped palms. You squeezed your fingers tightly together, but futile would best describe your effort. You will always feel like you are on the verge of tasting that sweet taste of knowledge, of the know-who, the know-how, but somehow, something tips you back and its back to square one all over again. The frustration of not being able to identify it but only being able to experience in the briefest nano-second is hair-wrenchingly vexing, yes. (:

Sometimes, you crave to plunge down into that bottomless recess and yank that damned thing out. Shake it by its shoulders and demand to ask what the hell it actually is. so the next time you ever crave to feel like this again, you might have a chance to conjour it up. But these little tingles and slivers of sensations are intangible, something like the shadow of your midnight silhoutte, or the tiny circles of rainbows in pools of raindrops. Blink and you will miss it, try to grasp it and it's gone. All you can do is pause and stare, stop and concentrate. Savour that fleeting moment, don't try to understand it, but just feel, for you will never come this close again.

The low down

Let's take this step by step.

You don't leave a friendly tag at somebody's blog and proceed to thrash his entry on your own blog. It doesn't make sense. I could diassociate your actions shred by miserable shred if i wanted to, and you will, no doubt, look like a pre-school kindergardener with oats for brains. But no, I want to be on Santa's good list this year and will refrain from completely humiliating you via this wonderful thing we call the internet.

But still.

Here's the wisest advice anyone is going to give you, so listen up hon.

Before ripping your classmate's reputation to shreds on your blog, pause and look in the mirror. Regarding the first incident you wrote about, I can't really comment much since I wasn't there and didn't know what happened until they told me. (By the way, that's an advice if you don't know shit, and gotten your information through the grapevine: STUFF IT.) Regarding the second, yes I concede that the guy was a jerk about the whole thing, but pray tell, from the very start till the end, which microscopic part has it got to do with you?

Before the whole saga, weren't you as sweet as sugar to him? You leave little notes on his tagboard, all sunshine and smiles. But because he was embroiled in a conflict with his PW group and yes it was his fault, you decided to detest him? And your justifications for your disdain for him? Laughable. Because you HEARD he feeds guys, because his blog is pink. Yes when your reasons are written here, they look so foolish and petty, dont they? If you need an excuse to bitch about him, at least find plausible ones please.

Sometimes it's for the better if you step back and take a look at yourself first before deprecating others. Get off that self-righteous throne you're on and ask yourself, am I in the position to be reprimanding others right now?

Life's full of hypocrisy and lies. Everybody is a hypocrite, you will have to be to sustain in this society. But sometimes, some people cross the threshold and things just turn plain ugly. Know your limits dear girl, before you trap yourself in your tangle of double-sided opinions.

I know you're going to read this, and you are probably either trembling with anger or crying by now, and yes, you will think I'm the ultimate biatch. But you should be very clear by now that my opinion of you have changed since the first three months. I think my indifference towards was quite obvious. Yeapp you're probably thinking of a snappy comeback for this entry for your blog and who knows? You might blacklist me because my blog has dots or something.

But quoting from Rhys,
The more you throw things at me, the harder I'll fling it back at you. At the end of the day, the one feeling like an idiot won't be me. Wake up, think about it. Call me when you're sober.

Another controversial entry, let the proverbial shit hit the fan. It's another open can of worms all over again.