there are so many random thoughts swarming in my head now that i just need an outlet to ramble.

like, am i the only person in the world who blogs without saving drafts left, right and centre?
but oh well, guess that's just because i am so random that there's no point saving drafts and slowly deliberating out the perfect entry.
damn, i admire all that professionalism, though.
but so sad too, because that's like stressing yourself out over something that you needn't stress about.

okay, Here Without You by 3 Doors Down is really nice.
i wish i were a guy who could play the guitar so i can strum a tune, sing in my sexy gravelly voice and get all the chicks.
just compiled a playlist of pop songs from my childhood.
i never knew i liked 'N Sync so much, really.
now i think that i was bluffing all that time when i said, "BSB rules, 'N Sync drools."
(okay, so immature i know. shuddup)

one late night call with Phoon the other day to discuss and reminisce the childhood delinquent act of arson.
without meaning to (because we'd actually clean forgotten), we also remembered that along with pyromaniac tendencies, we also on that same school trip raided the hotel minibar one night and drank all the beer available.
and totally slept through morning call the next day.
plus, other acts of hotel room wrecking in varying degrees of destruction.

Yes,
we were livin' the rock&roll lifestyle, aged 11.

envy us.

(smug)

i like destiny's child.
female empowerment, say hurrah!

oh hello, i am so into older men.
and i desperately need to glam up to attract them.
pshaw.

the twin bitches are aspiring to be the next Hitler and Mussolini.
oh, help me.
and why can't twins fucking be identical when they are supposed to be?
it ain't cool trying to pull a MaryKate&Ashley.
no, it ain't.

today was the last day of work,
oh joy.

my god, my right leg is significantly larger than my left leg.
really.
and i swear i have forever lost my killer legs.
somebody needs a cellulite-zapper, pronto.

):

you're not gonna believe this, but i still want to be a vampire.
i find the idea of blood-sucking very stimulating.


when i get married, i gotta have a grand piano in my house.
oh yeeeaaahh.

(this is priceless. note to self: tell phoon next time we talk)

bri's got a label coming up.
i am so mightily excited for her and about the stuff.

OH AND BRI'S SISTER IS ORGANIZING A PARTY 14TH SEPT.
PLEASE GO.

ah, and the poor chanty is ill.
but still perky and bitchy when we talked.

okay, i need to make a trip down to bobbi brown for some major help.

i officially proclaim Unfaithful by Rihanna the most ridiculous song around.
seriously, the lyrics are just whack.
she's like singing so plaintively about not wanting to murder her man, then she still go and cheat on him.
then act like it's cutting her up inside that he's sad.
like, is she not the most confused person around?
if you really like the guy, then what the fuck are you doing cheating.
and if you dont actually like the guy, then what the fuck are you doing with him and then cheating?
fucking stupid.

wow, i didnt realise it was that late.

OOH IM GOING TO SEE WESTLIFE.
hee hee.

i still have a lot of random things to say but i cannot really be bothered to type them now because i just realised that its late and im really tired.

you know, i really like the five people you meet in heaven.
and that line that i quoted really made me damn emo.

ohmygod speaking of emo, i walked past topman yesterday and their mannequins were all dressed in emo garb.
my god, trust singapore to turn the emo subculture mainstream.
that's just wrong.

and i wish the korean drama mania will die down already.
i've had it with korean actors with their pale skins and little eyes.
and gawd, what is up with the whole SNAG thing?
perpetuating this bad, wrong idea that males who cry are hot.
to hell with you la.
where have all the real men gone?
):

okay bye

LEE 5:45 PM
|

"She hummed in his ear and they began to move together, slowly, in a remembered rhythm that a husband shares only with his wife."

the five people you meet in heaven, by Mitch Albom.


it's funny how entire tragedies would be hard-pressed to soften my usual stoicism, and all it takes is for one poignant, strategically placed sentence to make me cry.

the hardest way to write, and the most effective, i think, is to be simple yet heartfelt.

you know, i'm really, really happy now.

i think God loves me.
thank you God for loving me.
(:

LEE 5:18 PM
|

heh, my sister just let me see this video of paul twohill on youtube for his recent idol performance or something.
wow man!
there really is something about seeing an emo-punk angmoh boy sing 5566 (translated: cheesier than cheesy taiwanese opera masquerading as bubblegum pop)
and his chinese is actually pretty good.
much better, in fact, than the tweety bird girl daphne (is that her name?) from the last singapore idol- god, you should've seen the way she butchered that meteor garden song. and she was chinese!

of course my sister let me see it just so she can bitch about his chinese.
but i really think it's fine, you know!
i don't hear any weird accent thing going on.
i mean, obviously my grasp of mandarin chinese leaves much to be desired too, but i don't think it's deplorable to the point of not being able to tell how a proper chinese word is supposed sound like.
anyway, i bet my sister is probably the only person with the slightest inkling of who twohill is who can recite rolls of ancient chinese poems in the perfect Beijing pitch or whatever.

and besides, i like seeing angmohs sing in chinese.
it's like watching some circus freak show, ha ha ha.

and i think the whole emo-hair look is a really good idea.
because he's got some nice black healthy hair thing going on.
and his face looks much better under all that hair.
without it, he's just... fugly.
looks so... filipino, if you know what i mean.
i don't care if he's whatever european race mix chinese or whatever.
he looks fucking filipino to me.

hah, he sang a 5566 song!
i think i have a crush on him.

okay no, bad joke.
little emo boys are not my kinda thing.

yay, if the boy makes it to the finals, i want to watch.
but someone will have to tell me if he's made it in, because i don't think anybody in my family watches it and i really have better things to do with my time.

ha ha, man if only i were 13 now.
sure will like this paul twohill one.
even though i will probably pretend that i don't and bitch about him a lot.
ha ha.

i think i am still a little bit into the whole eurasian deal.
i mean, my sister shows me one video of this guy (who isn't even nice looking) singing a chinese song and i get all amazed and obsessed.
i bet he's like, younger than me.
small kid.

doesn't help that Jos and i are always sniggering at emo people, mostly influenced by Geoff.

oh well, i hope Clare gets her skinny ass back fastfastfast.

my chest is threatening to take over the world.
oh woe betide me.
just now i became so frustrated at it that i stormed outside to the living room where my parents were peacefully watching TV and shrieked,"MY CHEST IS SO BIG IT'S GOING TO APPLY FOR STATEHOOD. WHOSE FAULT IS IT."
and my dad giggled, pointed to my mom and said,"her fault, her fault."

but anyway, the point is they were so deeply and nonchalantly unsympathetic i wonder if they actually hate me deep inside.
and my daddy doesn't want to buy me a plastic surgeon.
miser.
):

my god, oreo has a fiancee.
they're all growing up on me.

LEE 5:38 PM
|

omg why is everybody going to the UK.
i feel so unspecial now.

everybody.
my brother is a hairy pussy.
he cannot even drink beer.
and he's a cam whore.

okay whatever. look at that cannot make it act cool face.

he think he so hawt.

LEE 5:50 AM
|

there are times when i almost wish i had friends.
that is to say, the plural of friend.

but most times, i'm just grateful for the uni-friend'd status i have in Singapore when the rest are all over the world.

other times, i take immense twisted pleasure in seeing people's faces contort with confusion and then amazement when i happily rhapsodize about going home so i can hang out with friend.
said with massive emphasis placed on end consonant to make clear the singularity of the word.

today's one of those times when i wished i had truckloads of friends who i didn't give a shit about, just so that i can listen to their mindless chatter.
just chill for a bit and not have to hear nor utter a single SATs-worthy word.
or to contemplate anything more than the dominating colours this season.
except that fashion-talk irritates me immensely.
but i am always willing to talk about the weather, you know.

this is also one of those days when i wish i wasn't so perverted that i view all mainstream activities and the basic human need to be socially accepted as a sign of weakness.
if i could only stop viewing the need to have friends with such contempt and disdain.
and just be normal for a day.

to actually be able to enjoy the company of others and do conventional things like caring about what people think of me.
and thinking like everyone else does.

then maybe the fact that my brother has the need for friends and is doing what every other teenage boy does (that is, cavorting with girls, however skanky, just because they are small and thin with a bouncy ponytail) wouldn't fill me with such disgust.
and i wouldn't spend days on end just ignoring him because all i see when i look at him, is contemptible weakness.

i don't understand the need for social acceptance.
and like i told my brother, i don't understand him; and i don't like things i don't understand.

not only do i not understand why he's the way he is now, i also don't understand how he deals with my taunting.
it's oddly benign.
almost radiantly christian.
and i don't understand it.

my mother thinks i'm just being difficult and emotionless.
not caring about other people, and never bothering with everything else.

but you know, sometimes people just have to realise that there's a difference between the words unwilling and unable.

and lay off me for a bit.

so now i wonder, did i use to be this way?
something happened to me in the past year and a half.
and i need to find me again.

and actually, i really want to do that.
because i think, there was once upon a time when i was actually nice.
when i still didn't care, but at least bothered to pretend that i did.

yeah, sometimes i wish i could be normal with friends and with an abnormal-normal desire for shoes in every colour.
have sleek long hair and... stuff, you know.
whatever to be the normal sort of person who flits from social scene to social scene with a, what's that, lychee martini in hand.

but the most confusing thing is, even though i spend time talking about these things, deep down, i still don't care.
maybe my mother's right and i really need to seek treatment.

but i definitely want to be the person i was in school again, because i need the relief it can give me.
to be back to the time when i didn't need to prey unnecessarily on the disadvantaged just to gain a short-lived vacuous exhilaration from the discomfort it gives them.
when i could be stupid and raucous.
and really not give a damn.

sometimes i think how laughable a caricacture of a human being i have become and i wonder why i got myself to that state.
it's almost as if in the past year, i've been doing a parody of myself.
so pathetic, and cheap.
like those parrots in The Jaguar poem by Ted Hughes.

it's also weird how i have been discussing myself, and all through typing, it's felt like i'm merely a disinterested observer talking about someone else.

and all i really want to think of now is when the 1st of september will finally present itself and i no longer have to sit in this cubby hole and have my skin and hair completely ruined by the aircon.
i happen to invest quite a lot of my limited emotion in my hair and it could really be less damaged.

i'm glad i had that epiphany on charlotte's birthday.
i feel more like myself now.

okay, bugger off.

LEE 3:41 AM
|

last night, i discovered that french food is prettier and very much less edible than italian food.

i managed to beg off work today.
props to my mom who was immediately sympathetic at 6 in the morning when i gave her a graphic description of the mollusks and bird organs prettied up as food i was served as dinner the night before.

there were just moments when the food just made me feel acutely awkward.
or rather, the volatile french sensibilities i'd bruised were making me squirm quite a bit.
that is, until it hit me that i was a paying customer and i was paying good money, so i should have the right to decide what i will or will not eat.

there was one thing, though.
i suppose i should have felt the sting of exclusion.
but it just amused me greatly.

see, i couldn't bring myself to ingest escargot-
those seemingly innocuous shrivelled black creatures blending in with the nice bed of mushrooms and raw water cress (which, i much prefer cooked. chinese style)
and the unfortunate timing of the whole fiasco saw to it that the french guy, who i assumed was a waiter but who charlotte and brendan later decided must've been the maitre grand chef (or whatever, you know), witnessed me confessing my inabilty to appreciate glorified garden creatures.
oh, you should've seen the glare he gave me.
like, my good man, i just don't wanna eat your snails! don't look at me like i've just killed your mother.

10 minutes later, he asked charlotte if she wanted more bread (this restaurant, they have eccentric food. but their bread and butter cannot be faulted. they have made it an art, i swear)
she replied affirmative.
he mildly got out the bread basket and handed bread to charlotte and brendan.
and the moment he placed the bread on brendan's platter, he looked to his side as if i had ceased to exist and then just as blatantly, walked away.

i was so caught between surprise and amusement at that... brusque snub that i squeaked out to charlotte, "he doesn't want to give me bread! mmmpf."
and when he was safely out of earshot, couldn't take it.
laughed like the world was ending.

oh, the french.
such a charming race.

but we were all under the impression that since we only at the fourth course, i still had time to make amends and the man will relent and give me my bread.

it was not to be.
the next dish saw us being served foie gras.
ever since secondary three, after i heard teri cheng's (i think that is her name) extremely impassioned speech against foie gras, i have not been able to look at the delicacy squarely in the face without seeing sharp flashes of teri's stern face saying,"DOWN WITH FOIE GRAS! DOWN WITH FORCE-FEEDING!" in my peripheral vision (my mindeye's, that is)

as i hurriedly tried to offer my slab of duck liver to either one of the other two,
brendan drily observed,"you're never going to get your bread."

that.
that set us off, truly it did.
such brilliant comic timing, i really am stumped by it.

by the by, brendan also managed to learn the F-language just by listening to charlotte and i speak.
(and we spoke rapidly, too. i mean, we weren't going to make allowances for anyone, were we now?)
i wonder what's it like to have the mind of a gep'er.
must be nice, not having to struggle with learning.

during dinner, i also had an epiphany.
suddenly everything was so clear to me, and it was odd because it came so subtly that by the time i realised that i was experiencing some sort of enlightenment, it was already so clear.
on everything, and nothing.
i cannot explain it, but... wow.

last night, i was happy.
really happy.
not ecstatic-happy.
just plainly, quietly, calmly happy.

and i realised that as i was about to sleep.
how things are not perfect, and how they never will be, but they're perfect enough for me.

other things too, but i will not bore you with those.
those came later as an introspection sort of thing.

but all in all,
it's good.
it's all goooood.

charlotte makes a bloody hot 18-year-old, btw.
but then again, moot point, as she also made bloody hot, 17-, 16, 15- year olds.
and so on and so forth.

there might be other things i'd planned to say, but i really cannot for the life of me think what they could be.

ha ha ha, man.
if i could be any more peacejoyandlaughter than i am now, i'd be turning hippie.

(:

LEE 5:56 AM
|

i am suddenly reminded of a friend i had in Primary 5, Evelyn Yeow.
she wasn't particularly close to me, not particularly articulate or intelligent.
and her english, frankly, left much to be desired.
but still, i liked her.
in fact, even though she wasn't even someone i could really understand and communicate with, i still, even right now, feel a weird camaraderie towards her.
and oddly, a sense of gratitude.

little things, really little things.
but till this day, i still remember her as someone who was there.
there when no one else was.

definitely one of the more significant people i met that year.
the other being Amanda Phoon who proceeded to introduce me into a whole new chaotic world of lunacy and deliquent antics, and who, through subsequent complicating events along with other key people (ahem, ClareBri) made me the delightfully crazed Nazi i am today.

Phoon, if i hadn't met you, i don't even know what kind of a sad, passive loser i would be right now.
here's to you, for being who you are.
and making me who i am.
i do love you, even though most parts of our friendship you almost drove me to homicide.

funny isn't it, how we are such sensible people now and soon to become fine, upstanding members of society (ha ha ha!) when just a few years ago we were the psychotic eleven-year-olds who set fire to a hotel room on a school trip.
Fred and George couldn't have done better.
i'm proud of us.

looking back, i'm frankly surprised at the number of ex-friends i have accumulated.
though i don't see why i should be... knowing me.

my mother thinks i should seek treatment, but i don't think so.
hardly necessary, seeing that it's not socially crippling and i am perfectly capable of manipulating social situations when i want to.
i also refuse to believe that i might have a borderline mental illness.

my fingertips are frozen and they will not unfreeze.

charlotte's exulted eighteenth tomorrow.
this time, we are sampling exotic foods.
will surely have wonderful time as brendan will be there.
oh, happy days.

as a post-script, i would also like to give written (or typed) recognition to Anthony Tan's brilliant performace for the A-levels. congratulations, and thank you for giving us a perfect example of how pure hard work trumps any amount of intelligence any day.

LEE 5:32 AM
|

oh, i am so mightily irritated now.
lawnet is acting up and i cannot stand it when computers do not work like they are supposed to.
and my mother almost delegated what i was supposed to do to that nasty minah.
as if i will allow it.
i will have absolutely no affiliation with that pseudo-bitch.
even if i have to die of irritation wrestling with the computer.
(gives mighty battle roar!)

oh, grrr. GRRR!

i'm still waiting for the bitch webpage to load.
and i just devoured about half an egg tart and i now feel ill.
i don't know why i still persist in eating egg tarts when they invariably make me ill.
plus i was supposed to be aiming for anorexia.
anorexics and egg tarts do not mix, i am thinking.

oh, motherf~@#$%^&*!

now the page's loaded, but it's all wrong.
this isn't working out.
i want a divorce.

ohboy, if that hyperlink shows in my published entry i will throw a very big bitchfit for sure.

my attempts to contact Sanny have proved futile.
i don't know what to do, contacting people not being a forte of mine.

it's funny how when you deliberately stop blogging at first because of some weird reason which will remain unknown to the masses, you're all, gad i'm bored what shall i do now that i'm not blogging, and when you lift the ban you realize that you've conquered the addiction anyway and you sincerely don't feel like blogging anymore.

that was a very long sentence and i am certain there will be some structural problem there but i really cannot be fucked to re-read what i wrote to make sure.

oh, Hail God, MotherMary and Christ!
it works!

i am going out to find out what PDF version means.

i meant to bitch about something that's been niggling me for a long time, but now that the stupid page has decided to take pity on me, i really am much too pleased to dreg up all my vicious spite.

i have become very moral, btw.
and i dearly wish to be a childbride, if only for the shock value.

sometimes i don't mean the things i say to my mother,
but the way she reacts never fails to amuse me.
just yesterday, she almost went into palpitations when i coolly told her that my marriage shall be a business arrangement with a much older man who will not be at all interested in having any relationship and is merely getting married for the name.

contrary to popular belief, i really do believe in the sanctity of marriage.
though i find my actual belief in marriage fast diminishing working under my mother (matrimonial lawyer, divorces- myriad of petty isues)

i really don't understand how my mother could possibly be a divorce lawyer and still get married, especially when my daddy isn't all the perfect kind man and everything (don't get me wrong, my dad's brilliant. but i mean, hello he is practically a philosophical satanist and my mother is a devout christian, i just don't see how they managed to happen)
love does funny things to you.

i also told my mother that i was not going to get caught up in that nonsense until i am one foot in the grave.
i think she was almost going to start telling me how i shouldn't be so abnormal when she realized how this little vow of mine was going to give her a lot more peace of mind then if i was out there being normal.
and so she just gave a noncommital little snort.

i bet mothers wished they had a daughter like me.
no worries about suddenly getting grandchildren, or the kid dropping out of school to elope with a sex god.

but then again,
maybe not.

LEE 4:06 AM
|

i've never quite known terror like this.
and to think that in all my 17 years, the one thing that manages to get me so severely unhinged is related to academia.

i really have to hand it to 'em examiners.

LEE 8:52 AM
|

How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot;
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd.

if you'd told me a day ago that Jim Carrey could give me funny twinkly feelings in the abdominal regions, i would've laughed in your face.

but guess i was wrong, huh.

LEE 5:44 PM
|

i am deeply shamed.
of the top 10 of The 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 1999-2000, i have read but a mere two of the entries.
one being the Harry Potter books, which is hardly the intellectually tillitating sort.
and the other, Of Mice and Men which just makes me unspeakably sad.
the rest, i have never even heard of, much less read.
oh, i am deeply shamed.

(insert: Lord, i just heard rustling noises from the living room- not welcome in the seventh month, please)

can you believe No. 16 on the abovementioned list is the Goosebumps series by R.L Stine?
how could those amusing little pseudo-horror books make it up there.
and so many Judy Blume books.
which i religiously keep away from because of the bewildering sort of melancholy that sets in upon reading much reminiscient of Oscar Wilde stories (refer: The Nightingale and The Rose:- oh, stab me deep Oscar, why don't you. sometimes i cannot quite believe that a story i read eight years ago can affect me so tremendously still)

Roald Dahl's on No. 56
but i understand that.
he's a twisted one, that man.
i will never forget the horror i felt at the end of The Witches.

i will cease perusing this list.
it makes me sad.

watching Grey's Anatomy yesterday reminded me again of the reason behind my past fervour for neurosurgeons and plastic surgeons.
McDreamy and Mark Sloan.
if it were me, i wouldn't know which to choose either.
one meddles (literally!) with people's brains.
(which is so cool because i like brain meddling in the figurative sense. what a mighty duo we'd make!)
the other one is hawwwwt.
and what is it about these plastic surgeons that makes it all so glam?

was totally dying over Nip/Tuck too.
seeing a vanquished ex-TheSource/ex Mr. Phoebe Halliwell making people pretty?
i like.
i so like.

favourite is Cristina Yang, though.
i just adore her.
i wish i was her, actually.

so even though a month ago, i decided that i was definitely more into mathematicians (Harvard banker, yes please!) than scientists,
now i'm not too sure again.

Desperate Housewives has ended, though.
so sad.
i know it's trash.
but it's top-quality trash.

and besides, i think i have a crush on Lynette.
the harrassed blonde thing is so......
okay, no i'm kidding.
blonde is so yesteryear.
but i like her anyway.

and i like Bree.
she is so Stepford Wives gone psycho.
such a joy to watch.

don't like Gabrielle.
infidelity is something i don't understand.
(McDreamy exempted from rule because i like his eyelashes)
oh! but did you know that insipid china maid working for her is Singaporean?
and not only that, she's like the niece of some minister guy.
so says wikipedia, my new best friend. ha ha
i wonder how the guy feels, seeing his niece pretending that she cannot speak english after all that first class effectively bilingual education and banging a fat hispanic guy, no less.

also, saw ad for Dolce&Gabbana moto razr on one of those snazzy Tatler-esque magazines.
so entranced by it.
firstly because Dolce and Gabbana were looking all hot italian gay men with the deep tans and sparkling eyes.
and mostly because Gabbana was sporting a sexy scratch on his cheek (the ad's slogan being that the D&G razr was 'cutting edge'. so witty)

God, i love men with wounds.

the whole deal with the blood and pain just does me in.
same reason why i love scars too.
gad, so sexy.

hur, such a deviant.

quite into Draco Malfoy for the past few days too.
he's like a miniature Spike, who i've been deeply in lust with since forever.
the only blondes i like these days are the peroxide ones.
unfortunately, Tom Felton has been hit by the child-star curse and is sadly quite hideous now.
but who cares.
Draco Malfoy is my main concern.
i adore him for the evil, cowardly, fucked-up Nazi he is.

then there's still that one good, kind (insert happy adjective as yet unknown to self) that makes me go mushy and sickeningly smile-y.
and refutes all the hotness listed above, making this post completely pointless.
but that's so out of point here that i'm not even going to bother.
my secret sweetheart.
(:

ha ha ha!

okay, whatever la.

it's approaching 5:00AM and my maid has just woken up.
my body clock is very screwed again.

but that's okay because tomorrow's National Day and i plan to sleep through the entire day.
never was the patriotic sort, anyway.

LEE 8:47 PM
|

i find immense education in the mundane.

today, i am struck by the length of my thumbs.

LEE 9:39 AM
|