You don't have to drive a fancy car
Don't have to quote me Shakespeare
Just to woo me...

Some time ago,
a friend of mine was just sharing about
how some people simply have the incredible power to
make her day simply by changing his MSN nick to reflect
"happy birthday"
while some other,
more unfortunate self,
even after having delivered a cake to her doorstep
at 12 midnight sharp,
merely earned a look of disgust from her.

I was shocked.

I mean,
wouldn't you be touched if somebody were to do that for you?
I thought so.
I thought I would be touched.

The feeling of being touched,
that feeling of warmth travelling all the way
from the top of ur head,
to the ends of ur toes,
shouldn't be caused by a person justby being himself.
But rather,
shouldn't it be the result of an action?

A person shouldn't have that kind of privilege,
to determine your every smile,
ur every tear,
ur every heartbeat.

It should have been the actions that count,
the act itself,
independent of the actor,
that shd speak volumes of the person himself,
that defines what that person is,
and tells u how important you are to him.

Every sweet act should warrant a merit point
in the scorecard of the individual,
while every disappointment should be marred by a black mark.
Isn't this how it should work?

Two days ago,
I experienced myself the intensity of the contrast,
and how flawed my belief was.

How different the emotions the exact same words evoked
when it comes from two different persons.

The unconscious smile,
and that burst of warmth that seemed to come from deep within,
as opposed to the grimace and eye-rolling.
The irrepressible desire to reply to the simple msg with a mischievous one
as opposed to the desire to delete the msg without even bothering to reply.

What is a merit point for one,
can actually be a demerit for the other.

Women are really an irrational lot.

It all boils down to the "who"
after all.

And it doesn't even matter that it's all the "whats"
that makes up the "who",
in the first place.
As long the "who" is alrdy established.

Cos it's your soul that makes me fall in love with you
-Mr Beasley, Corinne May

"We want alot of things in life,
but it doesn't mean that we need them
to be happy," says the pie maker (Pushing Daisies)

I want to be slim and beautiful
I want to be rich
I want to be able to feast on good food without
having to put on weight
or having to work a day in my life.

So unrealistic.

Over the years,
I've simply learnt to only want to be happy.
And being happy is spending precious Saturdays with people who are important to me,
so I can laugh like there's no tomorrow,
eat like a pig,
and be as silly as I want
without a care about consequences.

So last Saturday,
I chose to spend it with my girlfrens from secondary sch (like what's new ?)

It was a beautiful Saturday.
The most precious day of the week,
and I chose to gif it to my fren, WoWo,
who needs to shop for a fridge with four ticks energy-saving level.

We checked out the electrical store in my quiet neighbourhood,
then hopped over to everything-also-have Toa Payoh.
And while we were in the midst of combing Toa Payoh central,
we walked past a hair salon.

No, I did not go in and chop off anymore hair.

Wowo was sharing that that salon was not bad.
At least her hair dresser's not bad.
Curious,
my provider and I prodded her for name,
or descriptions of what that not-bad hairdresser looked like
so that we can go to her to tidy our almost non-existent mane.

And she pointed at me,

"Like you lor, 肥肥 (fat fat) de!!"

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(*^&^%^%#&^()*%$#$#@

The 3 letter word that I worked so hard to disassociate myself from
surfaced once again to haunt me.
I was traumatised enough during my time in "the world's local bank"
when a colleague called me F**.

And just when I've learnt to put it all behind me.....
When I regard regarded her as important enough to give my Saturday evening to......
in search of a fridge with 4 ticks and of a reasonable budget with no dimensions
of her home to reference to somemore.....

*Eyes brimming with tears that are threatening to overflow, daintily (of cos)*
*Dabs edge of eyes with a silk hanky (daintily of cos)*

"So what do you need to be happy?" Asked Chuck to the pie maker.
"You," he replied simply.

As for me,
what I need is even simpler.
I just need to get my butt out of my house,
and run more.

After messing with the zohan last tuesday,
I dragged the homo-dragon-boater to goodwood park with me
in search of the famous durian cake.

Unfortunately,
as soon as we conquered the confusing maze
leading up to the ever more confusing entrance,
and found a fellow human being to ask for directions
to that treasure that I was so determined to own,

"Next time, come before 9."

&**&^&^$&^()*&%$#

So while I was inwardly cursing about my ill-fate,
the homo dragon-boater was going on and on about the updates in his life.
I was so lost.

Well, firstly,
there were so many girls that he was telling me about,
and secondly,
that dumbdumb refused to tell me their names so that I can better tell them apart.

"It's because I like to keep my life compartmentalised" he tells me.

By compartmentalising,
it means keeping different parts of his life segregated in their safe little zones.
It means no possibility of me getting acquainted with
or finding out more of what the other people are really like.

It means sharing updates,
like stories,
with nameless,
faceless characters.

So we identify with situations
but not persons.
So we remain neutral,
or,
according to him,
even if I don't remain neutral,
I'll probably be on his side.

It keeps him safe.
It lets him keep the power to control the impressions that he creates.

Lately, two of my girlfriends ended their respective relationships.
It really says alot about the theory.

Button's relationship ended even before we had adjusted to her being attached.
And contrary to the guy's jubilant announcement of the news of their being together,
and wanting to introduce her to everyone and anyone,
buttons kept her status hush hush,
her life still in their organised files,
and him,
away from the other parts of her life.

When it all ended,
her life remained intact,
and relatively unaffected.
I can't say the same for him though.

Lemonade on the other hand trusted the relationship enough
to remove all the dividers and throw her boyfriend into the blending machine,
together with the other parts of her life.
And when he decided that he wanted more than
just staying in the embrace of her love,
he just walked away,
leaving everyone else to pick up what's left of the destruction he's caused
without a backward glance.

As boundaries are blurred and removed,
we are inevitably thrown into the realm of vulnerability.
Of course,
everyone would want their loved ones to know of one another.
Everyone who has people who are important to them
should feel this way.

At least I believe that people who are important to me,
should know of the existence of the other people who are important to me.
Simply because these people are an integral part of my life,
and naturally,
they should know about the other people
who are the pieces of the jigsaw that makes me who I am.

To compartmentalise,
or not to compartmentalise,
it's eventually,
a question of trust.

How sure are you that after letting that person into your life,
he/she will not hurt the other people you hold dear,
by walking away after they've all learnt to love him/her
because of you?

So the homo-dragon-boater and I settled on a way
to distinguish among his many leading ladies.
We use apt nicknames such as "busty girl" , "the grinder"
just to name a few.

At the end of the night I asked him,

"So, does it mean that if I ever meet your future wife,
I'll only come to know and address her as THE WIFE?"

and I'm glad to hear his response

"Of course not! You'll be invited to our wedding, in case you're wondering.
By then, everyone should already know her name."

I should hope so!
When the time comes dear boy,
it'll bring a smile to your face every time you say her name.
And hopefully,
she'll change you enough so you start enjoying your meals and
none of your guests will walk away with calorie counters as door gifts
for your wedding.

Two days ago,
I turned twenty-two.

No one week celebration and elaborate gifts this time round,
probably because I'm tired of day after day meet-ups,
even though it's to celebrate MY birthday.
And there's no wishlist this year to refer to.

After more than 2 decades of 4th July,
I guess it just does not matter that much anymore.
They say that all birthdays after ur 21st pale in comparison,
and gets more and more insignificant.

I think I agree.

So this year,
I got another "mini-hamper" from AM,
a satisfying meal,
chats all the way into the night,
until the restaurant closes,
until Novena Square is shrouded with a cloud of serenity.

She wished me love.
And I think that is the most valuable gift she can ever give me.
She says I don't believe in love,
and because of that,
unfortunate guys end up taking the rap for the state I'm in.

I knew I was running from myself since a long time ago.
I never doubted that.
And maybe the root of my problem was the very real relunctance of leaving my comfort zone
of being scared,
of finding out the answers because
I don't want to find out that they are not what I had in mind,
that I'm wrong.

It isn't because I refuse to believe in love, my sweet.
It's precisely because I believe in it,
that is why I'm not willing to give it a shot.
My beliefs in this elusive concept called love,
is something I'm unwilling to give up on.

She found love in her own special way.
And judging from the glow she exudes,
no one shd be blaming her, hating her,
or telling her that she's wrong,
even though she might really be.

Life is too short and bitter,
why make it worst? (courtesy of boss!)

As for me,
life is already immersed in mundane bitterness,
why bother to take the risk and have all your illusions shattered?

For now,
I'm happy living in this cocooned state that I'm in.

I have everything that I could possibly want right now.
I 'm temping at my ideal company (although the job is not.)
I earn enough to feed myself good food (well, once in a while)
I can afford to go on a rampage online spree (well...sometimes)
and I've got the most wonderful people in my life,
the best I could ever hope to meet,
to call "MY FRIENDS".

I hate the timetable SIM stuck me with though,
but I don't think anyone can give a GOOD timetable for my BIRTHDAY.

So really,
what more birthday wishes could I have?

For these good things to go on into eternity? (probably not, with the sort of karma I've been accumulating)
For money to fall from the sky? (I wish!)
For excellent academic results (without having to work for it)?
For good health, slim waist, and huge boobs (while injesting junk food)?
More durians (without falling sick)?

Spain winning world cup 2010 (with Tor winning golden boot)?

Nah, simplicity has its virtue.

Happy 22nd to myself :)