I know I am totally slacking in the blogging scheme of things. I should be doing something about this, after all it could be my claim to fame. As recommended by Siew and Auntie Fang. I am sure I can impress the socks of creative people with my Slightly Singapore centric command of english and constant (if not boring) rant about mundane issues.

Nevermind about that. I need to record the details of my life before it goes by like the weekends, in a blink.

It was at lunch today when I saw him. Him being the idiot that broke up with my dearest friend after dating her for many years. After she given all and more for the crap that he already was before he sunk to the lowest level of stink, when everyone did not see what and why she saw in him. He was cheating on her. Which is a Big Surprise considering that he was such a disgusting lazy person that no one suspected it when he started acting cold around her.

I told her that I would go up to him and curse him when I saw him ever. And I wanted to. To walk over and say a few choice bad swear words to him and fling his bowl of beef noodles in his face. I was thinking of the names to call him in my head. But in the end, I did not. I let my dearest friend down. Maybe next time I will. No, next time I will.

What happens when my friends who see ‘Him who cannot be mentioned’? I told them never to tell me when they bump into him anywhere. The only time I want to hear of him is when he is dead. I wonder, did they feel the same way I did this lunch time. Did they want to go up to him to give him a slap on his face or curse the day he was born? If they did even in their heads, I thank them for all their silent and mental standing up for me. I really appreciate that.

This weekend is about rekindling the memories of JC.

Today, I followed The Laney to watch him prance around the soccer field at New Town Secondary. And then I saw him. He walked past me and my heart stopped. He sat a distance away from where I was sitting as he put on his kit. I sneaked glances while I talked to The Laney’s friend’s girlfriend. And then he saw me.

He seemed a little excited to see me and trotted over, soccer boots and everything. He sat on the step below me and turned back to talk.

Conversation recorded as remembered in my head:
C: Are you still working at the same place?
A: Yah, and you?
C: Yah, I bet you don’t know where I am working.
A: I know lah, DBS right.
C: Yah, I bet Wei told you.
A: Yah, who else.
C: You still look the same.
A: Yah of course.
C: It’s ten years ago.
A: Really? Oh yah. *Loss for words* You look the same too.
C: No lah, I am handsomer.
A: *Cannot take it* Go warm up lah.

Was it really ten years ago? Yes it was. Was it really so long time ago, when I had the biggest crush on him and did stupid ridiculous things? Yes it was. Did ten years really erase all the heart racing and hurt from the humiliation from having that silly infatuation on him? Yes it has. But why did I feel my cheeks starting to burn from just the jolt of seeing him again? Sigh, what a silly one sided puppy love.

Life is so funny.

Do you remember your first crush? Your first love? Your first kiss? Not really do you?

I had the biggest crush on Daniel Chan when I was in secondary school. Who is that you may ask? He came into fame around the same time as Nicholas Tse. Yes I am that old. He was so cute. Like totally formulated Japanese/Taiwanese/Chinese heartthrob cute that sells magazines, movies and CDs even if there is a lack of certain talent. Apparently he could sing, somehow but of course I did not care much about that. Teenage daydreams about pretty boys. Which girl did not have those?

The dreams from real life. What you learn from movies, songs, books. How a boy is supposed to treat you on a date. How a boy asks you out. Hand holding. Kisses. How a girl goes all coy when a boy is around. Leaning the head on the shoulder. It all bursts in flames and into thin vapour once the cold water of reality hits you.

I just watched a movie, one of Stephen Chow and Shu Qi (so hot!) and Daniel Chan were in it. Watching the once teeny bop screen hunk on screen, I just want to be back when I was a kid. When it seemed that everyone grew up into the happy ending that they deserved. When it was all wishing and hoping and even when it did not work out, you continued wishing and hoping because you believed that it would happen one day.

Do you understand how it is? To wish to attain this perfect-ness in your life.

I went for yoga three times last week and played tennis with Sam, Hsing and Jeryl. On the exercise front, I guess I am doing well. Though I have not played tennis since last August and my strokes are totally lost. I got five blisters on my right hand. Sam asked why I did not bring my glove. It is a laugh, sometimes I wear a golf glove to play tennis. As long as I do not get blisters. The weather was brilliant, it was cloudy overhead and then it began to drizzle.

I had lunch with Sam at KFC at Bukit Panjang, then we went to Daily Scoop at Sunset Way. We had nutty macadamia (yum!), lychee martini and chendol (er..). Catching up is always a treat, especially when we have not seen each other in some time. That is something I have always taken for granted, especially living in hall when my friends were only a few steps away.

But the other stuff on my plate is overwhelming and some really distasteful. I am so so so so tired of everything.

-why two people have to speak to each other in fake accents. It is not as if one person is an angmoh and the other person has to speak slower and more precise so that the angmoh will understand her/him.

-Singaporean girls.

- waiting up in the mornings before 9am is pure torture, no matter what time you slept the night before

- the life section of the straits times publishes pure dribble. For instance, this morning’s woman drivers cannot drive. I do not disagree but that dude (forgot the writer/journalist’s name)’s argument was all left right centre. (I wonder how he passed GP, let alone become a newspaper writer). If he drives the way he writes, he must be the few males he thinks that drive worse than women. Another example, yesterday’s pip on ‘Walter Wong’ (what a name). No further comments.

They say that Beckham going to the LA Galaxy is akin to another British invasion.

For crying out loud, Beckham-mania is not EQUAL to Beatlemania.

David Beckham IS NOT EQUAL to John, Paul, George and Ringo.

I listen to Gold 90.5. That is old news. Last night when I was in the car, the laney’s car (yay!), the radio station played Yesterday Once More. The laney and I sang along to it.

When I was young
I’d listened to the radio
Waitin’ for my favorite songs
Waiting they played I’d sing along
It made me smile
Those were such happy times
And not so long ago
How I wondered where they’d gone
But they’re back again
Just like a long lost friend
All the songs I loved so well

I had the Carpenters Greatest Hits cassette tape when I was in primary school. In primary four, I brought my walkman to school and listened to it under the flag pole and was caught by a prefect for bringing contraband items to school. I was not that gungho then and was rather terrified by that incident.

Every Sha-la-la-la
Every Wo-wo-wo
Still shines
Every shing-a-ling-a-ling
That they’re starting to sing’s
So fine

I was only perhaps seven or eight or nine when I knew every single word to each and every Carpenters Song. The words about love never made sense at that age. It was only when I grew a little older that I found out that Karen Carpenter, her of the golden silky voice, starved herself to death. In their music videos, she would be this little skeletal person wearing loose long dresses.

When they get to the part
Where he’s breakin’ her heart
It can really make me cry
Just like before
It’s yesterday once more

Lookin’ back on how it was
In years gone by
And the good times that I had
Makes today seem rather sad
So much has changed

Now I am all grown up, and I have the Greatest Hits on CD. The lyrics to this song resonate such emotion in me. I never knew that I would think of this song so fondly. Back then, I listened to these songs every day and sang along as my daily activity. The little me would never have realised that the grown up me would feel this way when I sang along to the same song so many years later.

It was songs of love that
I would sing to then
And I’d memorize each word
Those old melodies
Still sound so good to me
As they melt the years away

All my best memories
Come back clearly to me
Some can even make me cry
Just like before
It’s yesterday once more

If I told you how I felt, would you understand?

Or would you tell me the same things that you, you and you have told me in different permutations?

If I had to explain myself one last time, or rather why do I even have to explain myself one more time?

Sometimes I wish I would bump into you and look at you as though you are a stranger. One of the passer bys and a faceless dot in the sea of people.

She said that one day, he will get his just desserts and justice will be served. Revenge served cold on a platter is always the best. She asked whether I believe in karma. I want to believe in karma. How does it work? I have a calculative mind. Does it mean for every time I cry and weep, he will always cry and weep one time?

I am tired of this. I really am. I just sit here and do nothing. I do not go out and put myself out there. I do not court trouble. But why does it come to haunt me?

Here are some songs that still mean alot but instead of my heart soaring when I hear them, there is a numb ache instead.

Sweet life, Paul Davies
Just one look, every version is fabulous but I would go with the one by Linda Ronstadt
Knocks me off my feet, Stevie Wonder

All these lyrics were bookmarked on my favourites. It is time to get rid of the clutter in my favourites and plow through the hundred odd (maybe even two hundred?) links.