I know this may seem like a silly present, but I actually suggested to the BF to buy a giant 6 litre bottle of Camphor Oil (or commonly known as the yellow colour liquid that you pour on cuts and wounds before you paste the plaster) as a Bday present. And then Genie granted me my wish...



It'll be good if I actually become the spokesmodel for this brand of herbal oil, because I'm so accident prone, that I manage to finish in a year, what the bf AND his family took 25 years to finish. Somehow. And I apply it on any fucking place that I feel like applying it on. I think I might be addicted to this grandfather's ointment.

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So I demanded for a Yam cake from my dad the weekend before my birthday, for my birthday.

SO the silly BF went around Singapore to search for the PERFECT Yam Cake because he know I luuurve Yam cakes. He googled, checked forums bla bla bla, and finally found "The Best Yam Cake in SIngapore", and placed an order for a huge one.

So on the day of my birthday, while I was still snoozing in bed, he went out to fetch the "Best Yam cake in SIngapore" hoping to surprise me.

When he picked it up, he saw a small container of chilli sauce nestled comfortably in one corner on top of the box with the "Best Yam Cake". The box was lavishly wrapped, with maroon ribbons that had gold borders. It was after all the "Best Yam Cake" So he catiously asked the auntie there "Auntie ah...why is there chilli sauce? I thought I ordered Yam cake?"

And Yam cake it was... But not the sweet, creamy Western type that I craved, but the savoury, Chinese steamed yam cakes that our ah ma will make occassionally, or what we call the Or Kuey.



The silly baby was so afriad that I'll be angry, that he sweetened me up with a bit of "Singapore's most famous crepe"
Waiting...



then plied me with wine until I was silly, then he asked the staff at Fish & Co. to sing me a birthday jingle immediately after they brought out the cake.


Maybe it was the wine, but I found the whole thing immensely amusing. But I also thought that the Mao is the sweetest mao on earth....

....Despite the fact that he bought me ugly hello kitty (or idunno what cartoon is that) pyjamas from Pasar Malam.
Okie la...to give him credit, he also bought me a nice book, and the Estee Lauder Vinyl Lipstick set that I was searching all over the place for, and brought me to watch a musical. :P

DAMMIT I so wanted to upload my bday video of the people singing the bday jingle with my steamed chinese yam cake

I wonder why the majority of the teachers are so damn fat. I've been screaming out lessons everyday, and I fully utilized my diaphragm and every single biological voice projecting tool in my body. And I scream lessons from 8 to about 1:30pm almost everyday.

I scream history lessons to 5 classes of brats, English class to 1 class of brats, and 1 more history lesson to 1 class of older brats.

And I totter on my usual high heels, carrying tonnes of books to climb up flights of stairs everyday.

I get so exhausted by the end of the day, that I have no appetite for anything for the rest of the day.

Unless I'm the only one being over-worked, I don't see why teachers should be fat. But almost everyone of them are.

On my birthday...

8:00 am: woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. Was slightly pissed that the fucktard of a principal flew me a big aeroplane. When you piss off a bday girl, you can prepare to go eat shit for the rest of your year. Wanted to contract me till late October to teach ART ... of all things. Siao~
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It's raining now...looks a bit like New Zealand in summer in the morning. Cool, crisp air with a slight breeze. Oh wait, the breeze is caused by my fan. Dang~ Well, but it's a nice kinda weather nevertheless. Haven't been up so early for such a loooong time. The times that I do experience 8am mornings, are when I'm still up. And i'm a lil excited that what the bf has in stall for me...

So I'm turning 22.

That day my 10-yr old little brother was told the myth of 牛郎niu2 lang2, 织女zhi3 nu3， the goatherd and the weaving-fairy, who fell in love with other, but had to stay apart because of their difference in status. Hence, they were only allowed to meet once a year via a bridge paved by swallows and clouds. And I happened to be born on that day according to the lunar calender.

SO my brother said to me one day, "Wah jie jie your birthday is so romantic. Got story one..."

Me: Huh? what story? [blur; because i was told the story when i was his age, and at that time, I couldn't make that connection]

Brother: "Doh...the story of the niu lang[cowherd] and ji nu [prostitute], it's so poignant!"

uh.....

OKay, so that's how the cowherd spent his 364 days while he's away from the weaving fairy, with the prostitute.

LOMANTIC MEH???

What a perfect waste of a day, self destructed

***I've decided to self destruct this post, to prevent the whole world from asking me to further elaborate...***

The ex and the girl.

I haven't been checking my tracker for some time, and going on tracker once again, I found it curious that my blog has been linked from some blog addy that is totally unfamiliar to me.

You see, I don't publicize my blog, and I know which blogs that I am linked to, and it's not alot. So imagine my surprise when I saw the link. Out of curiosity, I clicked on it.

It belonged to someone...I would have called her the ex of an ex, whom I've mentioned perviously here. But after reading her entries, I am not so sure if they're still together, or is she really the ex of an ex. So let's just call her Y. And we'll call the ex previously mentioned EPM.

This Y person, she pasted my entire blog address for the amusement of her blog readers, because of something I wrote in mine - A conversation between me and that EPM. And she called him a fucking bastard.

I would have been been inwardly satisfied if this had happened 2 years ago. But I am not. I could have been excessively resentful of her, as I was in the past. I was made to believe she spreaded vile lies about me, and she was the one who came in between my relationship with EPM. My heart used to miss a beat whenever I hear the name or if I see a someone who resembles her in school. And if I do spot her 50 meters away, I'd shoot out evil thoughts towards her, hoping that they'll make her as miserable as she's made me. Or maybe she'll carry some of those evil thoughts that I shot her back to EPM, and make him miserable too. But all I did was to passively allow thoughts like these to swirl in my mind. I never actively did anything. Because I've always believed, that when a relationship ends, no matter how illogical the reason for break-up is, or how hurtful it was to you, when it's over, it's over. And it's no longer appropriate for me to articulate how hurt I was.

Later, I got into a rebound relationship with some guy, and later my mao. With the mao, the Y and EPM quickly fade into nothingness. So I was wondering WHY THE FUCK is my blog addy the highlight of an entry in her blog. And the way she said it, and pasted my goddamn blog addy, it seemed like I did her wrong, with EPM.
I didn't really know what to feel when I saw it. I didn't put up that post to irk her, for I wouldn't have guessed that she'd venture to my blog. Nor do I know that at that point in time, she was still with EPM, because, like I said it's not in me to find out how 'people from the past' are doing. Even though such information can be easily accessed nowadays, I just cannot muster that ounce of courage to find out out people of my past are doing. Or I just generally don't want to know. What can I do with the new found information? Does it do me any good to mock at an ex's new bucked-teeth, greasy-haired gf, or sigh inwardly with jealously if he is going to get engaged to Fiona Xie? And the impression EPM gave me was that he is now a swinging single. I don't even bother remaining friends with most of my ex-es, especially not him.

Instead, I do not know what to feel. Hating her was, surprisingly, the furthest from my mine, and no happiness was evoked. And my heart did not miss a beat when I saw pictures of Y hugging EPM. I felt a myriad of emotions that I cannot identify, which seemed to sink into the pit of my stomach, and settling into nothingness.

But I was definitely disgusted.

She could have done it in so many other ways. I wouldn't even have minded if she had copied out a fucking entire passage from my blog without crediting me can? And none of it needed the inclusion of me, explicitly. I've extricated myself from that life, your lives, long ago, and I have no wish to be in any part of it, anymore. Anyway, I've never ever wanted to be caught in the middle, not then, not now...And I was blissfully ignorant till the aftermath.

Get it?

I think it's pretty sad, when a guy looks like an ah niang.

SKinny, lanky, , mummy's lil' baby, wimpy-looking ah niang.

But I think it's more sad, if the guy, who once looked like an ah niang,
went for a total makeover, buffed himself up etc, and end up looking like an

AH GUA


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I need to do something about my thighs. Actually my whole body. Bumming around hasn't been good for the beauty conscience. I don't even suck in my tummy these days. Too lazy. But in order to fit into that pair of skinny mango jeans that I've been eyeing since the sale, I've gotta work hard.

I wanna look like this.



I need to stop stuffing my face with food. And now that the BF has steered clear of things with "trans-fat" (godknowswhatsthat), I should too.
Strict diet, some excercise, more sleep, early bedtime.

And MAYBE, just a tinge of hope, that from the back, with a fleeting glance, I'll look like VB in skinnies.


PS: The pair of skinnies that I bought for $20 in Taiwan grew so fucking loose that it looks like 2 cylinders encasing my thighs. I wonder how did that happen...

PPS: Which brings me to another thought...How come all the shirts that I buy from Thailand all shrink to a baby size har?? Then all the clothes that were bought in Taiwan, got stretched and expanded so much that it can pass off as a Dorothy Perkins size 14 har???

WHY WHY WHY???