I will NEVER live in the East. I will never live in Siglap nor Joo Chiat nor Marine Parade nor at the Esta. Everytime I got there, bad things happen. Remember that parking ticket, Missy Teo? I just do not like it there. It gives me bad vibes. The small one lane roads give me a headache and is hard to maneuver. Even GPS doesn’t like that area. A bump to the back of the car? I officially really will not move there unless someone pays me to.

But everything with fries is quite good. Sorry Addy my dear. The poor thing waited for me an hour as I drove around in circles.

Saturday, today is a very busy day for me. I have an important thing to do, my Ahma’s birthday dinner and a hen party to attend. Keke, Xiuru’s friend is getting married and she asked me along for the ride. Apparently, the bride to be does not have many friends who drink. Heh.

Just back from Seow and CT’s birthday dinner at Chili’s (yum) and karaoke at KBox Cineleisure. When discussing tomorrow’s plans, Xiuru said no way Keke was going to get drunk although it was her night so someone else had to be the fall guy (or rather fall girl in this case). We are going to have each other’s backs apparently tonight. Heh. We will see about that.

But my resolve to cut down on the liquid poison is going strong this year. Besides weird drinking games on New Year’s Eve which carried into the first day of the new year and Xiuru’s last day clubbing festivities, I have been sober. I even ordered a strawberry smoothie at KPO.

My mother cannot shut up. Does being alone at home all by herself mean that when I get home she has to keep on talking and talking and talking until I want to smack her? I cannot ignore her for those who have told me to for the nth time. Our royal highness requires answers even when you are playing Cooking Dash (which I completed tonight! Apparently, there is one thing that the magic mouse sucks in, playing speed games) It is intensively annoying. I may be an only child but I like peace and quiet. I feel lost when I am in the midst of noise and crowd. Hence, my dislike for Orchard on weekends and big families.

I pray to God (the one that I believe in, the same one that made that bird shit on me twice in the same day to remind me that the shitty can only get shittier) that I will not grow up to be like her.

How was your Chinese New Year? I love Chinese New Year. I love the ang bao collection. I love the feasting. When I was a young child, I could not give half hoot about food. But somehow things changed and food is my solace right now. Food is my pal and happy food makes me happy.

Some bo liao photos to add colour to my words only blog.

(Top to bottom)
*I have been ‘collecting’ new clothes since my Tokyo trip. It was an new outfit a day for the Lunar New Year for Awful and I reveled in brand new clothes every day from the first day. On the first day of Chinese New Year (chu yi), I wore my first long maxi dress (to the ankle) from Egg3, red Vita star studded leather bracelet, red Alldressedup wooden ring, certain Oui ring and red Zara flats. Red is great. My first experience in a long skirt is that there is no ventilation and my legs were in their own sauna under all that cloth. Alas, I do not have nice legs so they have to hidden. Actually I just inflict damage to the public by constantly airing my scarred legs and thunder thighs.
* One Sunday awhile ago, I went to Seow’s house to ‘make’ pineapple tarts. We had brunch at Casa Seow with pancakes, bacon, ham and eggs anyway you ordered. I had scrambled. Thank you Chef Seow!
* Seow, Jas and Joy hard at work. I was only in charge of painting the tarts with egg white and putting the tray into the oven and pulling out baked goods.
* Pineapple jam that the rest made the week before with five real pineapples and one fake pineapple jam.
* Before sending the balls of fattiness into the oven.
* Baked to perfection! At this point it was pointed out that all containers (gong) had to have even numbers in which BB was in charge of filling and counting the tarts. Even with a larger gong (points at BB), you only had the same number of tarts as the rest which was I think twenty four or something (twenty six?). I was informed that I would not be bringing home any tarts because I had not brought any gongs to contain them in. When asked when did anyone tell me that I had to bring a gong to tote my hard work home, Seow gamely told me that she informed me of the memorandum the Friday night before. We were at Phuture that night for Xiuru’s farewell party. Who does that? Memos are not sent when alcohol is involved. Anyway I do not care for Pineapple tarts. What I cared for was Seow’s double chocolate cookies that she very generously let me bring home (gong and all) which I wolfed down in two days.
* My favourite little girl in the world.

Eusoff had some reunion thing tonight but I did not attend. The hall years were the best years of my life and every single little crook and cranny is imprinted in my brain. Four years, four different rooms and the best friends forever.

And good paper smells good!

to have a children’s bookstore. Just like this one at Club Street. I was at Ann Siang today for work and had abit of time. I walked to Books Actually that used to be near Amoy where I got my Moleskine London Guide. It has three stories now and I had to exercise all willpower not to buy anything. I went into Little Drom Store and looked at the cakes at K Ki. I wished very much to be a tai tai to spend afternoons roaming in bookstores and little quaint stores (and having the money to buy things even though I do not work). But the pang I felt in Books Actually did not prepare me for the longing I would feel when I walked into Books in the Woods. All the Dr Seuss, Richard Scarry’s, Madelines just sat there. Just like a dream. There were Chinese kids books and even Japanese (I think, I could not look too close in case I could not leave). A book called ‘Wo Tao Yen Mama’ ‘I hate Mama’ made me laugh.

I would give my kidney to have a shop like that. I would even give my heart or my liver but that kind of defeats the purpose. I would even be nice to children if they visited because their parents would buy the books and children who read are alright in my book. I would have a helium tank and have fresh balloons all the time. For children who were funny, I would give them candy if they did not scream. (Point aside: I made a baby cry in Far East on Monday. It was ridiculous but hilarious. I did not do anything though.)

As dreams go, the one I am currently chasing seems to be leading in a dead end. Yesterday I was at the most magical little store. The owner had a bowl haircut too and she loved the Beatles too. But as I attempted to make conversation, it was not very forthcoming and I felt a tiny shy and stupid. Have you ever met someone whom you wanted to make friends with so much but they did not seem to want to give you the time of the day?

It happened today again. I was just trying to fill the silence in the air with a PR girl. I wanted to say that ‘For god’s sake, you are in PR!’. Maybe I have not been long in this and maybe she was tired and not feeling it.

It is true, I am not cut out for publishing. My style of writing is not what they require for magazines and I wear my feelings on my sleeve. I smile when I do not feel like but I do not like to show a face to people especially when they do not deserve it. Am polite even when the situation may not call for it. I know where I stand but … Maybe I was wrong. I guess twenty seven is really too old to start over again.

Jupes left for New York last night. The lucky girl had an entire village to send her off and her JC friends wearing specially printed T-shirts with her Missus Bon Bon website screen all matching and standing in one line, it was like one of the parties that she loves to throw.

We had dinner on Saturday night and dancing at Butter afterwards. Auntie Fang and Leng had a birthday party to go to after dinner but not before the Auntie dropped a bomb of her own. Our darling Auntie will finally be an Auntie. She has a bun in her oven. The rest have christened it ‘Boo-ster’ and I have christened it Tweedledum Boo (the original name for her guinea pigs). As I attempted to arrange my face into some semblance of congratulations, I got chided by Missy Teo. But I guess I am happy because as long as the Auntie is happy, I will be happy. Plus she can finally Baby Talk a proper baby instead of like baby talking the rest of the world who are above one meter. So Congratulations Mr and Mrs and Future Small Boo.

So it seems that pregnancy or rather pregnant people are everywhere. The yoga class that I attended on the Sunday after, the yoga teacher was sporting a small bump of her own. Apparently, pregnancy is contagious.

Awful has the iPhone 3GS. I am such a Apple slut.

I have the MacBook, Magic Mouse, iPod Classic and shuffle. I had the Apple Mini and the Nano. Now I have the iPhone.

I am not that techie. I do not know how to use internet on a mobile phone. My phone plan has always been the cheapo, cheapest monthly subscription. Before this internship, I had never exceeded the 500 sms limit.

But hello iPhone!

Erich Segal, the author and screenwrite of Love Story has passed away. Now who is Erich Segal? What is Love Story? Love Story is the ultimate tear jerker starring Ali McGraw in all her black straight hair finery and Ryan O’Neal. I never watched the movie. (Duh.) But I know of Ali McGraw with her hippie chic and Ryan O’Neal when he was young and hot. (You may know Mr O’Neal as Faye Dunaway’s long time companion, Faye Dunaway being the queen of Angel Wings hair and original Charlie’s Angel).

My point actually is the movie spawned an ultra disgusting line to date (no offence to Mr Segal): Love means never having to say you’re sorry. (Cue hurling)

I do not have patience for love stories. Tortured unhappy endings maybe.

For the nth time, I do not want to get married in a church. I do very much hate myself. I am gross. No dress could salvage the situation. Not even a 13 K Birkin.