abalone

I detest the pivotal moment of crossing over the threshold into adulthood, or rather, auntyhood. With Chinese New Year looming up just around the corner and KC's incessant pestering about my not-so-presentable wardrobe contents; I tagged along dutifully behind KC into the mall. And discovered the joy of swooshing someone else's card to get clothes for myself. The thrill of not having to feel the cash leave my hands and watch my wallet size dwindle almost had me grabbing clothes from their hangers and march right up to the cashier in a trance.

Then the not-so-fun part began.

Traipsing into the supermarket section, I received a text message from Cindy (cousin) asking if I'm getting anything for Popo (grandma) for Chinese New Year. KC promptly snatched the opportunity to unleash a 10-minute lecture about how I'm getting older and should act more proper and adultlike, which, translated into layman terms, means buying overpriced unnecessary exotic foodstuff for the older generation of relatives whom I'm going to meet during Chinese New Year who probably have tons of such foodstuff already and would just cluck at my exorbitant spending habits and proceed to stash the goodies away for private consumption much later while dismissing me with an oozing-with-insincerity "oh you shouldn't have" then return to gossiping with other older generation of relatives about how un-filial whose and whose children are for not buying them anything for Chinese New Year. And the scariest part is, once I start this terrifying annual cycle of buying inflated gifts... I'm not allowed to stop. Ever.

I don't want to step into auntyhood so soon! Gaaaaaaah!

I bought a nicely-packaged nifty abalone and pacific clam canned set for Popo. Then I imagined Dad throwing a tantrum at me for not getting his mother anything. And I took another set reluctantly. Then I thought "Like hell am I going to spend hundreds on these babies and not even get a chance to taste what they're like" and promptly grabbed another set from the shelf. It's high time I fulfill my filial duties towards my parents anyways, right?

post script: I did my maths later last night to come up with how much I need to pay KC back for the reckless shopping spree... and my calculator overheated and exploded, its red-hot battery shooting out and punched a hole through my heart right out of my back. With blood splattering down my torso, I weakly text-messaged my company's account personnel to just put KC's name on my next paycheck.

the ring

Subsequent to my recent post about my phobia with men and their simple gold rings... KC took its off a few days after. I pretended not to notice (my heart was whooping with glee and a rather evil sense of success) until it mentioned the fact to me, claiming a rush of guilt when it read my disturbing entry. Holding hands have never been sweeter after that. (What? You're dry heaving already?)

We got ourselves a pair of rings today. They're supposed to be our 2-month milestone keepsake cum Valentine's gift, but we couldn't wait for the exact day to come, so we mentally donned our time-travelling protective gear, took an elevator down to the centre of the universe and fast-forwarded time.

Knowing how much a ring from a loved one means to me (never had one from anyone except my mum when I was 17), KC tried with immense effort to say something really meaningful when it put the ring on for me.

" Sweetie... I promise you... (all's going perfectly well till this instant)... this ring won't be your first."

Grey matter inside my skull went into fits. What the heck?
I managed a feeble, "Huh?"
KC repeated the exact sentence verbatim.
I didn't know to laugh or to throw a royal bitch fit, because (a) KC knew perfectly well the ring was my first from any boyfriend/girlfriend; (b) maybe KC meant that the ring wasn't ITS first, but why would it say that when I made it very clear how I hate to be reminded that it had a wonderful 7-year relationship with another female species...
Reaction-wise, I chose the former. And laugh hard I did.
KC realised something was terribly wrong with the romantic heartfelt confession, and tried to salvage.
And repeated the same freaking line again.
I swear, laughing till the bed shakes with tears of exasperation running down one's face is indeed a sensation beyond description. I decided to call it quits and put my hands on KC's shoulders and said, "Could it be what you meant is that this ring won't be my last?"
Sheepish grin. Shoulders sagged. Dejected face. I couldn't resist a bear hug and passionate smooch. And when I put KC's on, I flashed my killer sweet smile (works every time, my acting cute) and opted for the safest line, "Darling, I promise you... this ring is my first."

cuddling with sistahs

What was initially planned as a close-knit, warm little cosy gathering with 2 of my SB Sistahs, E/E and Ange, turned into a dreary affair of meeting half my old highschool classmates (we extended a lunch invitation to HJ, and he asked someone else, and someone else asked another someone else). Translated into layman terms, the "lunch meet-up" simply meant waiting for this person to appear, waiting for that to finish eating, waiting for another to finish trying on clothes etc.
I'm not saying this full-fledged highschool reunion wasn't fun, but as I exchanged emails with the Sistahs, we all lamented that we didn't spend enough time talking and cuddling. The sole participant of this weekend getaway that thoroughly enjoyed it all was KC. What KC got out of our first holiday away together:

(1) Deep meaningful conversations with me in the car interrupted by my occasional bursting into song when something groovy came on the radio. (Actually I don't quite understand why KC treasured our car-chat so much. I normally can't stop myself from yakking at 120mph and end up with a smelly-stockinged foot in my mouth, so why is the car-chat any different? Hmmmph.)

(2) Free 18-hour amusement and giggles watching us Sistahs outdoing each other in wit and sarcasm AND dirty dancing at Madam Wong's. (Who in their right mind would give a discotheque some kopitiam's name?!)

(3) Chance to fall asleep holding hands together in a king-sized bed with air-conditioning and wake up to the smell of bacon frying and Sistahs screaming obscenities at each other to add more butter/get the fruit juice from the fridge/stop laughing at the size of the chicken wieners.

(4) Ogle at Ange. (It's okay. I want a piece of Ange too. She's hotter than chilli.)

holidaying

I'm going to Singapore for the weekend. Unwind, relax... and to meet my beloved SB Sistahs who've been bugging me forever to visit. Can't wait to see Angela's new apartment and her permanent piece of furniture called Tyler. Can't wait to drool over Eryn's ever-pubertising boobies. I'm sure the girls have a fun weekend ahead planned.

Yay, plenty of materials to blog about! *rub palms in glee*

wring wring wring

Work is picking up pace at the office, which is good. I pissed off Boss for the 185th time in a week, which is not good. I feel stupid. And the fact that we're seriously not busy AT ALL around the office for the past month and still I manage to make such idiotic mistakes makes me feel like snapping off my left wrist with a pair of blunt scissors. Or quit my job and work full-time at Starbucks as a barista. But then, memorizing the exact amount of each ingredient for 30 different beverages might prove too taxing for my dwindling brains. Am I actively murdering my brains from all the cigarettes? Let me go smoke one and think about it.

blank

I'm completely out of ideas for blogging material. Well, not out of ideas literally but I'm just down with a mild case of disgustingus lazyassus, where my mind would just go on screensaver mode once I click on Blogger's dashboard. My days have been moving past me so quickly that it's hard enough to keep my mind focused on what I'm supposed to be doing, let alone trying to come up with something entertaining to blog about. Unless, of course, I write about the few days of depression when I chain-smoked 7 cigarettes in an hour and moaned and whined about my bottleneck situation at work. Brain simply went on strike and refused to churn up even a belch of a headline for my bank client, but you can't really blame Brain because after 2 years of unceasing, merciless bitchslapping in the accounting/finance industry, writing something positive and cheery about a financial institution is as likely as Brain's master (yup, that's me) enjoying a leisurely stroll along the beach with CSI Greg Sanders watching dolphins doing water acrobatics.

Or, I could bore everyone to death (nope, no eyebrow-raising stuff) with my detailed, blow-by-blow account of time spent with KC and stuff we do together. Not sure if it's a good idea though, because my coherent and witty self would dissipate into a blubbering, babytalking doe-eyed high school girl whenever I think of those pretty eyelashes and KC's cologne.

I just got news that the whole country would be having electricity shortage soon. So I shall shut up and fantasize about how to make use of the extra time should Boss let us off earlier today.

holding on

"What is there left to hold on to, when this glorious thing called life itself is so ephemeral? When everything we seem to have really fade, change or disappear completely with time? Our emotions, convictions, relationships are never constant; happiness and love are found and lost in turns; we live and then at a certain moment we don't anymore... where is the sense in this all?

Yet, holding on can be something beautiful. Even when we know that it will be all in vain at the end, even though it will bring us the most difficult times ahead, it is the only thing that we as humans can try to do in the face of sorrow, loss, bewilderment or incomprehension. We are going to try holding on anyway, because there are so many things that are worth the while -- feelings and memories that remind us just what warmth, bliss, pride, comfort, or pure happiness really is about. Holding on will make it harder for us, but why should life be easy anyway?"

I stole this from the late Grace Chow's blog, because it stole my breath and a few heartbeats. And yes, albeit being rather un-Christianlike, her entry is honest and beautiful. I stole her strength to hold on.

It's my first-month-anniversary with KC tomorrow. I feel warm and nice.

new year

There are 3 kinds of people in this world: those that want things to happen, those that make things happen, and those who just wonder what the hell happened. And it's amazing how I can be all those at the same point of time. My mind is still on vacation. Happy 2005, all.