bang BANG.

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bang; BANG; boom;

Not all murders have a motive
This one certainly didn't

We've reached the end of the road
Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for the ride

mercredi, octobre 28, 2009

I'm ecstatic for having finally gotten my hands on a legit copy of the type encyclopedia.

It's actually a 4cm thick book that lists down over 2000 fonts. In alphabetical order.

And according to type, like, serif, non serif, slab serif, glyphic, script, graphic.

And yes, I'm positively gushing! About an encyclopedia which cost me less than 50 bugs! I'm almost wishing we get a typography assignment soon so I can put it to good use!

Anywayayay, that aside, I've been thinking much.

No wait, I think that's a lie. Put it this way, I've been thinking of school related things for too long, I find myself craving to read up newtonian law.

Or maybe it won't hurt so much to flip through some old math notes.

And don't get me started on g p !

I seem to catch my hands crawling towards my sister's law textbooks recently.

So what I mean, basically, is that, my left brain is revolting. And if I don't bring it out for a walk soon enough, it's gonna start making red banners to walk around the street with.

I get accused of being a math genius in school. I don't exactly know how that happened since me and math had a falling out right about the time I was sitting through my as. And I pretty much told math I never wanted to see him ever again. But there you go, he's back to bite me in the ass.

My lucidity is questionable at this hour, no doubt, but please, just bear with my inane ramblings.

anyway. moving on.

I read soo's blog and he writes about all these hot topics I used to discuss with such furore in here. The operative word being: used to.

And then, I read all my latest posts and feel a stab of shame.

I've been very shallow. Narrow, tunnel vision, self-conceited, narcissistic, hedonistic, whatever. It had almost always been a monologue about a day in the life of glorious ol me.

I've just been taking the easy way out. Looking to things that are directly affecting me instead of the big picture.

I guess I just feel bucketloads of guilt cos I've always pointed fingers at people whose blogs are all about what colour shirt they wore or what they had for dinner.

But hey, I'm doing it too now. So, do I get to point fingers and laugh at myself?

There was a big media shitstorm about a recent beauty queen. Yes? Even the frog under the coconut shell must have heard about it.

Besides, the whole world boomz -ed with it, so to speak.

and nono, I don't mean to make fun of the poor girl or anything. In fact I'm pointing my sticky uhu-stained fingers the other way. At you.

Yes, you, the one who's reminiscing the sweet video of how she made a complete fool of herself.

You, the one who's using all her vocabulary.

I find it ironic, even, to a certain extent, comical that I've had friends who kept referring to the words used in the video whose english aren't all that great either. In fact, they might even be *gasp* worse !

I mean, come on, look to the mirror first, why don't you?

Did you even notice that while you were making fun of her preens in one breath, you were making the same mistake in the next?!

God, humans can be such oblivious fools.

And you know what, amidst all the drama 2 or 3 weeks ago, I dare not comment. Because hey, nobody said my english was perfect.

Not even an A on a ratty ol cert could ever convince me of that. Hahah!

>1:20 AM

mercredi, octobre 21, 2009

For a full 2 minutes, E couldn't stop laughing.

He would pause to breathe in, then, he would make the mistake of looking at me and burst out with a fresh peal of laughter.

I'd say that peal is too mild a word for how he laughed. It was a tremendous bout of laughter. And since it was directed at me, I couldn't help but take offense.

"Why is it always just you?! Hahahaha....!"

"Stop laughing at me! I'm so freaked out by it already!" I said clenched teeth.

It was probably a Candid Camera worthy moment for spectators but for the person it was happening to, ME, it was more like .. a scene from 'drag me to hell'.

We were innocently walking towards the station, arguing about the pros and cons of having lunch as compared to going home. As we walked towards the traffic junction, an old lady came towards us, with a crazy smile, waving 3 fat packets of tissue paper in our faces.

She appealed to E first. She waved the packets in his face and said something in Chinese. He shook his head and walked away quickly. She turned and cocked her head at an angle, trying the same like with B. I happened to be walking about a meter or 2 behind him. By then, I was smiling, she actually looked quite comical, this lady.

That was when she came for me.

Unfazed by the rebuffs she received from the rest, she spread her arms wide, and turned towards me.

I started to say no and tried to walk away to join the others at the traffic light.

She kept on walking towards me, holding her arms wide as if asking for a hug.

Her wrinkled face was almost split in 2 like a melon with the wide smile she had on.

Where her teeth should be, there was a gaping hole with a few protruding brown pieces which, I believe, was what was left of her teeth.

And don't get me started on the crazy hair.

As I said, imagine the old gypsy woman from drag me to hell and you've got the image about right.

So anyway, she turned towards me, cocked her head and said something that sounded strangely like "Please?".

My eyes narrowed when she started moving close, a frown was in the process of making itself show on my face. She was almost an arms length away before I started to dash desperately away.

But she seemed to sense my intentions and swiftly took a step left to block my path.

My mouth gaped open in surprise and panic. I began to glance around anxiously, looking for escape routes. But the gang was already a safe distance away, watching the scene unfold with amusement. The only way to reach them, was to go around this woman.

I started to turn left to go towards them, but again, she didn't miss a beat.

She took another step towards me.

By now, she was uncomfortably close enough that should she attempt to, I would have been caught in her hug.

I shuddered at the thought and almost broke into a run to go around her.

Thank goodness she decided not to give chase so I safely reached the rest of the group and was assaulted by their loud guffaws.

Oh man, that was beyond freaky.

Almost as freaky as the black cat that hissed and bared fangs at me when I was walking home from work last night.

That cat, from it's leisurely position in the shadows suddenly sprang up on all fours, its fur standing on end, and hissed at me as I walked past.

I was fixed in its unblinking gaze as it stood there, with its white fangs out in contrast with the darkness of its fur and the night.

I was frozen for a few seconds. I expected an attack and briefly contemplated throwing the box of cornflakes I just bought towards it. But in the end, I just walked slowly away. All the while, that pale yellow pair of eyes continued to follow me.

When I've moved a few metres away, I risked throwing a glance back towards the cat.

Yep. Still on me.

Then, I picked up my pace, forcing my aching feet to put more distance between me and the freaky black cat.

No, nothing happened to me on the way back, the bus I was in did not crash, nor was I hit by a bus, nor attacked by a thug. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here telling the tale, no?

Still, my conscience just does not bode well after that encounter.

I'm not usually superstitious, but there was something very very very freaky about the old woman and the cat. Both.

Maybe they're in cahoots with each other in a quest to freak me out or something.

Or maybe.. Hmm, no, I didn't see any cameras around the area.

We'll see what plan they come up with tomorrow.

Hahah! And I am almost afraid to face tomorrow.

>8:01 PM

mardi, octobre 20, 2009

“Stand up,” he ordered.

As soon as I did, he got down on one knee in front of me.

‘Whoa isn’t this moving too fast? I barely knew him for 5 minutes!’

But no ring came out of his pocket, hahah!

Instead, he gripped my hips with both hands and ordered, still in that terse voice,

“Turn for me.”

My brain was still halfway through slumberland. It was, after all, an unearthly hour of 9 am.

Still, my stubborn nature caught up with me since I was definitely not a do-first-ask-later person.

“What – “

His grip on my hips tightened just a bit. Enough to cut me off from further protests.

“Just turn,” he said simply, looking up at me through the top of his glasses, “I will be stabilizing your hips as you turn your upper body.”

Oh! So that’s the reason for all this proposal position . . and hands on the hips.. and –

I clamped my mental jaws shut and complied.

And I thought that would be the last of it. As it turns out, it was only the start of a whole series of positions that would have been funny if either of us had cracked a laugh.I had to stifle my laughter so many times over the absurdity of the whole thing since he was being such a robot about it.

“Okay, just relax, “ he said.

I don’t know when the transition occurred but he no longer sounded as terse and rigid as he did 5 minutes ago.

However, at the sound of those words, most of my muscles suddenly became tense. From my experience of 15 minutes with this guy, anything that came after “just relax” is never something entirely pleasant. Mostly, it meant that my body parts were about to be contorted into another compromising position.

He stared at my face without any expression as I took a big breath to calm my nerves and muscles.

“Try to relax,” he said again as he moved closer, putting his hand on my thigh.

I gave a stifled snort of laughter. “Trying!” I remarked as I tried to still my muscles into obedience.

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.Hmmmmm, interesting. Apparently, he’s not a robot after all.

His hand slid under my knee and he lifted up my leg, bending it at the knee. His other hand slid down my calf, guiding my leg through his loose grip on my ankle. I saw my leg being lifted up.. and up and up.

‘Maybe he will attempt to fold me in half again,’ I thought to myself.

My brows knit together almost instantly into a frown when he moved his hand to cup my feet, bending the toes forward as he put my leg on his shoulder.

‘What is this? I never seen this move before,’ I thought as he started to lean forward towards me, bringing my leg with him. He had on a look of intense concentration but he was staring at me, trying to read my reaction.

Apparently, my stunned expression didn’t answer his questions because he had to verbalize it.

“Anything?” he asked, Apparently one word is deemed to be enough of a question these days. As I said, robotic.

I stared up into the ceiling, getting mildly uncomfortable with this position.

He leaned forward more, still staring at some part of me or another. Was he looking at the movement of the hips now? Or the thigh? Or maybe I really didn’t want to know.

My gaze flickered to his face right next to my foot on his shoulder.

Oh god, for his sake, I hope my feet didn’t stink or anything. That would have been bad.

Even I never got that up close and personal with my own feet.

“Well?” he asked again, clearly not accepting silence as an answer.

“Hmmmmmm. No, not really,” I replied, shaking my head.

Over the next few minutes, my body was bent and twisted in ways it never knew before. The whole time, I was peppered with the same questions, over and over.

“Okay, turn over. And lie facedown.”

By this point, I was beyond caring. I did everything he asked, answered all his questions and didn’t even bother grilling him on the rationale for such movements.

He fingered the hem of my tshirt on my back and said, “Uh, do you mind if? Uh, I need- I need to lift your shirt up.”

“Hunphh?!” My head shot up, lifting my face off the mattress.

“Don’t lift your head up,” he said in a lightly chiding tone, “you’ll strain yourself that way.”

“I need to lift your shirt up, to see your uhm, your back.”

I muttered a disgruntled okay before returning my face to the mattress.

I started feeling hands on my back, sometimes lightly pressing, sometimes a shove hard enough to elicit a hiss from me. Overall, it felt good though, like a 5 second back massage. Then he started fumbling with my clothes.

I mean, I know that sounds wrong but it was exactly what he did! Because instead of lifting my shirt up, it felt like he was pulling my pants down.

My mind screamed a “whatthehell is he doing?!” while my hands reached back to slap his hands away and lift up my own shirt.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” he actually managed to sound flustered and embarrassed.

The robot façade definitely showing cracks. Not so perfect, are you?

I was wearing this two-toned pants that had a thick coloured waistband. So I decided, I could not possible get angry at him for not being aware of women’s clothing and how they worked. And proceeded to enjoy breathing in the medicated smell of the bed.

He started pressing fingers into my bared back. Then, he started to run fingers down the left side.

“Hmm, muscular,” he said, suddenly.

My head jerked up in surprise. “What?” I asked as I turned around to see his face which was a stupid gesture, of course because it earned me another scolding about not lifting my head off the bed and also because I was not wearing my glasses. Blinded, turning around didn’t do me any squat of good.

In a quiet tone that suggested he was talking more to himself than to me, he went on to explain how the right is hollow but the left definitely more pronounced.

I left him to his own devices, aka, my back, and started to drift off.

A few minutes later, we discovered a new problem.

“You keep telling me you feel pain on your right. But this part here is painful?!” he asked, exasperated, putting his fingers on the left side of my tailbone.

“Yes! I mean, it didn’t feel that bad before but now I realize that it hurts too! I dunno, it’s different, in a sense but . It’s there, like, ahhhh, I dunno how to explain this!” I rambled on.

He chuckled to himself.

Wait wait wait..

He chuckled ?

Ahh, well, what do you know.. my therapist is not a robot after all.

Especially towards the end where we discovered that another problem area was the right side of my butt,, where I had gotten an injection weeks before. In an attempt to alleviate the mysterious pain, he pushed, he stroked, he rubbed, and pinched my butt in so many different spots.

Right.

Like hell, I paid 40 bucks for this guy to grope my ass.

Sure, call it professional groping if you want to split hairs, but it’s still the act of putting his hands on my butt.

Perhaps professionalism dictates that you should not feel embarrassment at groping the asses of random females but I would feel better all the same if he expressed something other than mild amusement on his face. Hell, after breaking through the façade, I was starting to miss my therapist, the robot of 30 minutes ago who kept his hands to himself. Sure it’s a given that therapy involves touching and maneuvering body parts but maybe he didn’t need to cup my chin every time he told me to tuck my chin in for good posture, or touch the back of my neck to show me which part should touch the wall when I aligned my posture against the wall, or tap my knee to remind me to sit upright.

I probably got it loud and clear the first time he showed me all that anyway.

Maybe I’m just being overly dramatic because my first 2 therapists were both females and fun, cheerful people. And this guy? Definitely not female but the cheerful factor I seriously doubt.

When I told the guys I just paid 40 bucks for a guy to grope my butt, instead of mock horror or indignation at the temporary loss of my dignity, they broke into laughter and said, “God, I wish I had a job like that! Dyou think I’ll qualify?”

Should have known better than to trust boys. Hmmphh.

>5:49 PM

vendredi, octobre 16, 2009

Today was one of those bizarre, beautiful, good, productive days - I guess it's a bit of an overkill to use good and productive together in the same sentence since the 2 are almost always interchangeable to me.

Alas, it is also one of those days when I spout meaningless beautiful tirades. (Which, I suppose, it what this is turning out to be)

But I digress. Today was really one of those beautiful days where the sky is actually sky blue and the clouds white and fluffy enough to make your dunlopillo jealous. One of those days where all you really feel like doing is lie down on a beach somewhere and stare at it until the cows come home.

On top of it being such a beautiful day, I had a good day too... did I mention that yet?

I thought I would be grumpy and pissy waking up after just 3 hours sleep but apparently I was wrong (as nature loved to constantly remind me)

I was upbeat, witty, sarcastic, smart... all those things I loved in myself, if I can say so without sounding narcissistic. And above all, I was nice to everybody. And hey, that actually meant a lot, coming from me. Lest you think I've totally lost my mind -

it was nothing arcane, not really. After a string of downright lousy days, I felt sort of energized after my day off yesterday and woke up on the right side of the bed this morning... or maybe Macs latte really had magical properties.

I felt like I was invincible.

Well, no, not really.

But things worked well and clicked into place.

I still had that gnawing feeling that I'd missed something totally obvious in my designs but didn't dare dwell on it after F gave a loud 'tsk' and took his pupils on a familiar tour towards the ceiling when I mentioned it.

I knew what he was going to say next (which, come to think of it, might be the quote of the month, seeing as he's made the comment close to a dozen times already)

but anyway, I quickly interrupted,

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm being my perfectionist self again."

and proceeded to state the pros of accurate designing and the cons of his "agaration" method for the third time in less than 2 hours.

I just don't understand how someone whose rendering skills could have rivaled Da Vinci (okay, exaggeration) had such bad visualisation skills.

But that aside, I certainly am not the take-charge kind of person, I think, but maybe... perhaps... what made this day so good was the fact that I had been doing just that.

More active, less passive!

>11:59 PM

vendredi, octobre 09, 2009

"... and it's spicy outside but really sweet inside," I whispered rather self-consciously, concluding my 5 seconds explanation and totally aware of the many pairs of eyes watching.

"You mean like you?"

"Huh?!" I exclaimed. My eyesbrows were shooting up and I don't really think that I was purposely misunderstanding him.

And then he reiterated.

"It's like you then? The fruit? You're sweet inside but really spicy outside, right?"

I was stumped for about 5 seconds. Frowning furiously, I managed to stammer, "N - n - noo... ".

I should have just shut up, but I think he's the kind of person who won't let any question go unanswered. And then, there was that sniggering all around. I ground my teeth to keep from screaming in confusion, allowing myself to let out a nervous laughter. If I let myself, I'd probably have turned fire engine red in the face. Oh god. As if it wasn't enough that I was already quaking in fear of him. He had no idea how much courage it took to approach him in front of so many people. Fine, there was only one way about it then. I took a deep breath, and then plunged right into it.

I blinked once as if to gather my wits about me and began, "So I was thinking, I could ... "

Hahah! And you're all probably wondering who I'm talking about.

And it's not what you think it is. Amazing what omission can do. (:

>10:56 PM

lundi, octobre 05, 2009

Deep breaths now.

I really should calm down.

But I'm so scared my hands are shaking.

Or maybe, you should call that paranoid?

I stopped taking my pain meds these days because the thought of eating my meds just make me feel like puking. Perhaps it is some sort of psychological reaction but I hope I'm not that far gone. Because when I finally did force myself to swallow my pain meds, I did puke it out about 2 hours later.

As I was bent over the toilet bowl, puking out my dinner, my back started screaming in pain. My mind was really just thinking about stopping the puke reaction so I could straighten up and then my back would stop burning.

I pressed the flush button frantically because the sight of puke just made me want to puke more. And then ran out to the kitchen sink to wash out the puke taste from my mouth. I was breathing through my mouth so I didn't have to taste anything.

My sister hovered around but said nothing.

When I told her I felt like puking about 10 minutes before, she had told me, "Well, maybe that's because you been lying down too much."

From the kitchen sink, I ran into the bathroom, and started feverishly brushing my teeth.

When I was rinsing colgate out of my mouth, and spit out a mouthful of water mixed with toothpaste and spit, I noticed a whole bunch of red mixed around with the spit.

'That's weird,' I thought, 'i vomited out white stuff.'

The next few rinses, I spit it out on my hand and to my horror, I discovered that the lump of red.. was.. indeed, blood.

After running my tongue around my teeth several times, I found that it wasn't my gums. And there was that taste of coppery twang of blood at the back of my tongue.

I don't know why.

Maybe my throat is bleeding?

I know that chocolate mixed with spit could look like blood.

But I didn't eat anything chocolate or blood coloured.

And my head is spinning, my back is screaming, my throat is sore.

And I'm so sick of blogging about being sick, just as I am sure you're sick of reading about me being sick.

Dear God, please, I don't want to be sick anymore.

>1:06 AM