Slippery slope...

I adore flat shoes. Flat ballet slippers and all the new variations that are out there.

My previous problem with them was imbedded by the fact that i am vertically challenged, so i really relied on shoes that gave me the extra height.

So, for a very long time i would just look and pine over these utterly cute and gorgeous flat shoes that i could never actually wear and do my outfit justice.

But then on a not so sunny day...I played touch footy and broke my ankle.

Then my life did a drastic turn.

I had no choice but to wear flat shoes. I had to make amends with my outfits and find a way to wear the flats with my clothes so that i wouldnt look absolutely fugly.

Its a dramatic analogy, but breaking my ankle was like a get out of jail card. Even if i didnt look good in my attire with the flat shoes, well too bad mate, i broke my ankle and i cant help that!!!

In a very long and painful process, i gained my freedom. Freedom from stilettos!

Don't get me wrong, i now look at stilettos with lust and i envy all the women who can balance and parade in sky-high heels. I use to be the girl who could run in 3 inch heels. Now, i can barely stand a half hour in them - even with minimum movement. The closest i have gotten to wearing high heels with comfort are actually wedged heels shoes, which provides much more support and is the only way i can wear anything high attached to my feet.

So, now that i often wear flats, and i absolutely love the ability to...i have another problem that is annoying me.

Am i the only girl who has noticed how slippery most of these shoes are? And this isnt just when the floor is wet either. Even when the floor is dry. When wet, is just the worst case scenario.

Hello??? Mister Shoemaker, have you considered that we wear flat shoes for comfort...and if we wear your pretty flat shoes for comfort, do you think we want to slip and slide and potentially fall and land on our bottoms with your pretty flat shoes attached to our feet??? Or worse, where your pretty flat shoes have been hurled across a walk way and smacking some poor guy in the head???

I dont want to slide and land on my butt, especially not while im in a skirt, while im walking to or from work! And i especially dont want to be caught falling by a cute guy, simply because my shoes are slippery!

So, please Mister Shoemaker, could you please make your comfy flat shoes not so slippery???

Loose lips sink ships...

After having a scrummy breakfast at the Glasshouse, Hilton with our GM...

I was walking back to the office along George Street. As i walk past one of those Mission Australia people, I thought to myself that i'm going to side step this guy. He happened to be talking to someone else...but just my luck...as i walk by he stops talking that guy and says to me: "Excuse me Miss, you dropped your..." and he trails off.

I had my scarf drapped on my handbag and since it was the only thing that could drop, i absentmindedly thought that he was referring to my scarf. So, i actually stopped and turned around and noticed nothing was on the floor. I looked at my handbag and my scarf was snuggly hanging off the handles, just where i had left it.

I looked up and he finally decides to finish that his statement with: "You dropped your smile..."

I gave him a grimace and then chatised myself for being rude, it was barely 9:30 in the morning...i thought i should give him a break, so i offered him a smile.

I think he noticed the grimace, because he asked for confirmation that it was a pretty good line. I told him it was creative. And i continued my way back to work.

After a long day, being told that my role in the programme is to basically do 1/3 of what my Programme Manager is supposed to do, that is, take care of all the finances from start to finish and make sure that we are in the black and not in the red...i thought i NEED a drink tonight. (I'm an IT person...not an accountant or anyone that is even slightly proficient in managing finances!)

I caught up to have dinner with a friend. Then afterwards we went for a drink. I met an acquaintance after getting my glass of white at the bar. I had the most bizarre conversation with this acquaintance (that i haven't seen in a year)...i actually think it was highly inappropriate, the things he said to me.

Below is a recount of our conversation. Its not exact, its close to...i'm thankful that i dont remember it word for word!

Me: Hey, how have you been?
Him: Good, you?
Me: Yeah, im good too. (Lie. Blatant lie, but i thought i should pretend to be pleasant).
Him: Where is M these days? How come you didnt bring her? (I met him through M).
Me: Oh, she's busy, probably playing bball or with her bf...(Another lie...I improvised). So, what have you been up to, what are you doing now? You changed jobs, right? (Rapidly changing subject...)
Him: I'm in recruitment now. (Previously in Software Testing - i think).
Me: Really? Thats a huge change...who for? How are you liking it?
Him: For "said company"...its been 5 months and im over it. But its okay, i'm just more interested in starting my own thing.
Me: Recruitment? *Baffled look, saying "what?"* You want to start your own recruitment agency?
Him: No, but something like it... (Hmm...right...)
Me: So, you're one of these guys with the new ideas...what is it? (The friend i had dinner with, was also into this whole "new idea - get rich" sense of mentality).
Him: If i tell you, i'd have to kill you.
Me: Right, haha, did you notice how far my eyes rolled back? (Me thinking, "like i really care about acting your idea". I'm not even into being innovative!)
Him: Well, if i tell you, you might have a really long, unforgettable...(some other supposedly interesting adjectives)...orgasm! (He laughs so loud, i think the floor was shaking).
Me: Err, right... *Eyes rolling back since he said it loud enough for everyone one around us to hear, and its a noisy bar!*
Him: (Proceeds to make fake orgasm sounds!!!) "Oh...oh...oh...OOOoooHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhh..."
Me: *Cough* ...right...and it would be fake! *eyes roll back so far i thought they would get stuck* (I should have added that i'd just be faking it to shut him up ASAP...but that would be even more slack. So, i didnt!)

Girl to the right of the table gives him a disgusted glare. I think anyone within a 5m radius from him heard his pathetic attempt to orgasm like a female enamored by her lover. Just picture a really packed bar, and everyone going silent because this guy was being a complete d!ck in public. Everyone heard him.

Thankfully (only in the sense it offered me an escape route), the acquaintance's friend, who happens to be this really offensive, arrogant, 'I-think-I'm-God's-gift-to-women' turned up and joined us.

Him: Oh, you remember "said friend"?
Me: Yes. *eyes roll AGAIN* I think im going to go and mingle. See ya.
Him: I thought you would say that, bye. (Him implying that the friend would make me run, not realising it was actually his disgusting display of bad-taste-left-in-mouth sense of humour!)

Guys like that make me feel *icK!!!*

Mental note - acquaintance is now demoted to hi/bye person. Conversations = nil. Make no attempt to reacquaint one's self to hi/bye person. If hi/bye person tries to hold conversation, make effort to make eye contact so he gets it through his head that you mean it when you tell him, you need to excuse yourself to go to the ladies!

Hi/bye person should learn when to shut the f@#$ up...especially when the ship is sinking.

A Venetian Affair...

They kept each other at a safe distance: lovemaking was mostly limited to what their eyes could see and what their eyes could say. It is easy to imagine how, in a city where both men and women wore masks during a good portion of the year, the language of the eyes would become all-important...

"Today my lips will not be able to tell you how much i love you...But there will be other ways...Will you understand what my eyes will be saying to you?"
--Andrea Memmo, in a letter to Giustiniana Wynne.


I just started reading "A Venetian Affair" by Andrea di Robilant yesterday afternoon. What makes this such an interesting read, is that this book is based upon the love letters between Andrea Memmo and Giustiniana Wynne, which were written in the 18th century.

So, its real. The book isn't written in a prose of a fictional novel. Its a man telling a love story that his father was unable to tell before he died from a terrible death. I'm not naive to believe every word of it. Obviously some letters have been lost or disintegrated because they were so old. And obviously the letters were from only the two lovers perspective, so they would be considerably biased. Some gaps would need to be filled, but the author has tried to keep the account as true as possible. The fact that he is writing about his own ancestor, makes this book all the more intriguing to me.

I've only just started and its taking me a while to get my head around reading it, names are Italian and long, there are too many Piazza's that they refer to that keeps me wondering which is which. And i had just finished reading another book which was from the present, so flicking between centuries is taking a toll on me, i think.

Even though its a struggle, i cant stop reading. Its absorbing and i didnt think a man could tell a love story based on letters so old and make it riveting, especially when it appears to be written like a history book or book of essays. There are direct quotes, there are footnotes and explanations, a summary at the beginning...and there is possibly a conclusion at the end - i have yet to confirm this.

Its quite an exotic read.

The letters were actually written in a type of hieroglyphs. So, they were in themself a task to translate without losing the essence of the lover's words.

I'm going to be glued for a while to this book.

I may go MIA.

If you dont hear from me, im just reading.

I'll get back to you when i finish the book.

Smile just to smile...

For the sake of trying to be happy...

I will endeavour to fake some smiles.

My weekend was an emotional tirade of one thing to another.

I am overwhelmingly tired now.

I want to rest in an unadulterated blissful slumber.

100 nights without disturbance.

At least i found my "Christmas in July" present for my Chris Kringle.

One thing less to think about.

Just tired...

I feel like i have been working overtime for the past month and a half...and although im getting into the swing of things, its wearing me sickingly thin.

Pity i cant say that im actually losing weight over this.

I'm the opposite to almost everyone.

I put on weight for almost every reason under the sun, even when im sick! The only exception is when i am happy.

So, i guess its a clear indicator that my life sucks when i put on weight. When i lose weight, you will know that my life is on track and everything is hunky-dory!

The funny thing is that i havent worked overtime. I dont ever work overtime. I get pushed out the door at the hint that i might stay back an extra hour that no one is expected to pay. Basically, no one wants me to stay back for anything. Fine by me - really.

Why am i tired?

I think its all the crap that i have been going through in the past month. A non stop ride on the emotional rollercoaster to last a lifetime!

Its not just the potential stalker that i am referring to. Its EVERYTHING that i have yet to mention (and maybe never will), but have had to deal with on my own.

This month has been disturbingly intense, to put it extremely mildly.

My mind is running at 110kph and yet im trying to hold it still. I think everyone knows that that is just suicide. Who would ever consider standing in front of a car driving at that speed, thinking that they will be able to stop it? No one. And yet here i am trying to stop my mind racing at that speed.

I think its partially due to the fact that im sick, and grasping things is like 5 times more difficult if you are inducing really strong antibiotics into your system. If you are trying to make decisions while the drugs are inhibiting your ability to - it just doesnt work!

I need a break. I need to take time off. But i want to save my leave for next year so that i can spend more time in Europe.

It will be a relief when i can work from home. I can sleep an extra 2 hours. I can go to the gym during lunch...and it can be for 2 hours!

Work will provide me with a laptop and wireless broadband for me to use.

Hopefully i will be less tired. Hopefully i will lose some of the weight i have put on. Because, hopefully, i will actually be a bit happier.

Victim...

I hate the feeling of being a victim.

It probably explains why i am hesitant about speaking with the authorities. Because that would force me to admit that I am a victim of some sort. That i, as a victim am seeking their advice/protection/help for something that i can not control myself!

But thats the thing, when someone is trying to hurt you or scare you - they are also betting on the fact that you will be too afraid to tell anyone. Which is why i started my own assault, in informing all the people near and dear to me what freakish things have been happening. The events, the time of events, the frequency of the events, what i think is happening, why i think it is happening.

I also made a clear decision to speak to the police.

Yes, you heard me! I told the police. I reported the events to the police.

I admit that i am a victim. And i say it loud and clear. So, everyone knows now.

I want you to stop. And i say that loud and clear.

Paranoia...

Its weird...I get home and i walk through the door. First thing Mum asks me is whether some guy had called my mobile or not?

O_O

No, noone has called me. But i check my personal mobile and there was a missed call and an empty voice message at 11:10:59AM. Checked my work mobile and it was clear.

I asked her what was this guy's name? She said she cant remember...

I asked what did he say, she said he didnt say anything, just that he was calling from work.

You see, the thing that freaks me out is the fact that no one at work knows my home phone number. Only person who does is my boss, and he would never contact me at home unless he has left a zillion messages on my work mobile and i havent responded in a couple of hours and he actually feared for my life.

But the call to my house was at about 17:10-17:15PM. Whoever called from work would have known better, if they were in fact someone from work. And it doesnt explain how they got my home number. I work at my clients site where most of the employees think that im one of them. Noone would think to actually get my number off my boss. And even if they managed to ask him, he wouldnt give it out to anyone; im sure of it!

No number appeared on the missed call on my personal mobile. It was "unknown" and it shits me that the message they had left on my voicemail was just of some background noise.

What is freaking me out even more is that someone had given my mobile number as their "mother's" contact when they got arrested for a breaking and entering. A supposed policeman had called my mobile in search of the culprit's mother. This was about a 3-4 weeks ago. It was a Wednesday afternoon, im not sure about the date...possibly the 14 June, when i got this call.

He had asked me confirmation of my mobile number. He told me that the culprit was arrested and gave this number as contact for his mother. He asked if i was from a nearing suburb. I told him that i was near that suburb, but i didnt know of any woman by that name. I told him that i was sorry that i couldnt help. He advised me that he will update the "database" so that no one else will bother me.

In hindsight, i should have written down his name and badge number, and asked him from which police station he was from. As far as i know now, the person who called could have been an imposter, posing as a police officer.

But the truth of the matter is, i didnt feel as though i had given him any personal details about myself. I didnt feel as though i was under any threat.

Now with this weird phone call last night, i am beginning to worry. I'm worried that there is a connection. I'm worried that someone is trying to hurt me. Why would someone call and say they are from work, when its obvious to me that noone at work would do that!!!

The more important question is what do they want from me???

I have this problem, well not really problem, but if i dont listen to my gut feelings, the worst of what my gut is telling me seems to happen to me. So, i'm listening to my gut but i dont know what to do, short of going on a witch hunt!

If someone is fishing for details about me, they potentially now know my personal mobile number, home number and address. I'm worried that someone is trying to get my details to commit something fraudulent.

I know this sounds like im going crazy, but its hard not to worry about this when a woman at work is having problems with her "identity" (being assumed by another) and the bank.

I hate you Fruit!

I'm on the train minding my own business, book out, nano plugged in. I happen to be sitting on a 2-seater bench, by the window with my bags on my lap, leaving the seat beside me on the aisle very clear for another passenger. I make sure that i am only taking up my half of the seat, if less - i dont like thigh rubbing on the train.

The thing is, its really early morning. This particular train never gets full. Its usually half empty. Like the 3-seater benches might only have 1 person sitting by the window and the other two seats would be free.

This f@#$ing fruit hopped on the same carriage as i was on, when the train stopped at Strathfield.

There were 3-seater benches with only 1 person sitting in them. There were a few 2-seater benches with only a person sitting by the window, just like moi, that were closer to him. BUT noooooooooo, the F@#$ing FRUIT had to pick the seat next to me, didnt he???

I wouldnt have had a problem with this, if he didnt have such an appalled look on his face. He made a clicking sound like i had done something wrong. That my bag was on the seat, thereby making that seat unavailable, when the bags were actually on my lap and the seat was very free for someone to sit on!!!

I'm not bothering anyone, YOU F#$%ING NITWIT!!! I am minding my own business. The seat was an attractive seat, because it was clean and i was sitting on my side of the seat, not blocking your half!!!

In any case, he didnt have to sit next to me. If he wanted more space he should have sat where there was a 3-seater that was occupied by only 1 person!!!

So this half-wit, precious fruit cake sits down precariously and places his bag on the floor. He crosses his right leg over his left, swings his body away from me like im harbouring some disease that could be passed through my coat, opens his newspaper with a complete "huff"!!!

I was soooo close to turning around and asking him what his f#$%ing problem was???

When it was time for me to get off the train, I stood up and he picks up his bag off the floor, and instead of standing up and getting out of his seat, he swings both his legs over the armrest while hugging his bag to his chest. Blocking all the other passengers trying to get off, from walking down the aisle in a very ungentlemanly manner.

I couldnt be f#$%ed to say thank you. And i always say thank you to people, even if they do that stupid "sit-as-close-to-the-seat-as-possible" instead of getting up from their seat for me. Come off it, who wants to be kicked in the knees from a person who is trying to get off the train. Younger girls have gotten up from their seat to let me walk past. But this guy couldnt be bothered, and so he didnt deserve any politeness from me.

I should have given him a "huff" back as i walked past, but im not a petty fruit cake. I'll just bag him out on a forum like my blog.

I was always under the assumption that fruits were nice, this one must have been pms-ing...and taking it out on me, when it wasnt even warranted!!!

I hate it when someone makes me feel bad for something i havent done. I dont know what he was imagining that i had done wrong...but i f#$%en hate him for making me feel inferior. I want an apology...unfortunately, its something i will never get.

So, this is my rant and rave...

I will now put the issue to rest.

Welcome back...

I put the Service Request through about an hour ago.

They will move my PC and all my belongings back to the city sometime within a week or so...my casual relaxed stint in Glebe will come to an end.

I was suppose to move 2 months ago, but that fell through.

Now that some team members have been reunited with the others in Glebe, there are empty workstations in the Head Office. My PM's have readily fought with other managers to acquire a workstation for me.

I once was eager to move back to the city, but when moving back was knocking on my door, i realised how good i had it in Glebe.

Its quiet (when the loud lady who sits behind isnt talking so much)...i dont have anyone hovering around me or watching my every move. I have a shuttle bus that i can use almost like a taxi, except, i dont have to pay for the trip! My managers are not around me to ask me something every 5 seconds. They have to pick up a phone to contact me, therefore, they will be inclined to try and find the answer first before contacting me. When that fails, then they email or call me.

Back in the city, they will delegate everything to me. They will be sitting near me. They wont bother with finding the answer on their own, they will just walk over to my desk and ask me to find it while im trying to juggle the usual responsibilities for the 1 programme (containing 14 projects, as of today) and 2 projects. They will make me attend meetings which i would normally just conference myself in and do work at my PC while listening.

What a shame, what a shame, what a shame...

Its crowded in the CBD office. Too many people. Too noisy. The floor shakes when there is a strong wind (i think they built it that way since the building is so tall, its been designed with some flexibility in case of emergencies). I've managed to avoid shopping on a regular basis, because im located on the quiet side of Glebe. Back in the city, there are shops just beneath me. And Town Hall is a short stroll one way, Chinatown the other. I feel broke just thinking about the temptations.

And i dont like the frequent thoroughfare passing by each workstation. Knowing my luck, i will have a desk where everyone can see my monitor as they walk to the exit or the printer or the toilets, maybe its an even suckier desk where people will walk past for all three of those things!!!

=(

The move will come at a crazy time as well...

I'll move from Glebe to the CBD...get settled in...then disappear for 2 days doing my PM course...go to a breakfast function for work at the Hilton...try to get the project billings out of the way and the numerous reports that need to be done before i go on my PM course...bloody...grrrr...

I'll miss the guys from the EMC though. I think i know them far better than my own team. But they will be permanent fixtures at Glebe...so, i wont ever see them again, unless we all get invited to a work thing.

*sigh*

I dont want to move...

>_<~

Hazy weekender...

I went to Paddington on Saturday. I got f@#$en depressed.

Everywhere i turned there were beautiful couples. Every second beautiful couple was asian. Talk, slim, good looking and trendy. They were everywhere!!! I walked into the markets thinking i could escape the masses on the street, but to no avail. They had infiltrated my market!!!

I went in a mad search for my ice cream cookie man, thinking that the ice cream sandwiched between two yummy cake like cookies would ease the pain and insult of seeing all these beautiful people...but alas, it was not meant to be. He must be hibernating during the winter...

=(

I think i would have bursted out crying had i not talked myself out of it. Instead, i walked on with my head held high, at a stealthy pace to get to the bus stop and head back towards inner city...away from the gorgeous and trendy in Paddington.

My usual pick-me-up became a let-me-down. What was it about that Saturday? Were they holding some convention for the beautiful and down right handsome? And what i really want to know, is where the hell can i find a good looking partner like that who will carry my bags? Cos other than that Saturday, i hadnt seen any around!!! Albeit, these were holding hands with their partners (very far from single)...and i really shouldnt have been looking...and im not even thinking about stealing them either...thats karma i dont want to have!

Point being, it made me feel shit for the rest of the day...

Which brings me to the house party i attended to that evening...L and E were invited to their Italian teacher's housewarming sorta shindig. I was a tag-along and so was G. On the car ride to L's place, i was complaining to E...when we got to L's place and went inside, i complained to L. To add to the mix, it was freezing in L's place...its spacious with just us in the living room...no body heat to keep us all warm.

Then its revealed that this house party is going to be in the backyard. That was the last straw, we needed liquor to keep us warm...to at least get us started before we freeze our butts off! L went to the kitchen and brought back some watermelon schnapps and 3 shot glasses. I basically had the equivalent of 1.5 shots. But i dont do shots...so this really got me going.

When G arrived we all piled into E's car and headed off. We started talking about something and i started laughing and i just couldnt stop. I knew i was laughing too, but i couldnt stop myself!!! And then L started laughing because i couldnt stop laughing...G was just getting freakin scared sitting next to me!

I think the plan, although unsaid, was to get me happy with booze, since i was so f#$%ing depressed.

When we arrived we couldnt find a way into the backyard for the party, and then we realised we could go via the side of the house. There was a rush of seeing a number of people who had started the party. There was a gas outdoor heater to help keep us warm. There was also this wonderous warm boiling wine in a pot - Glühwein [usually prepared from (not too expensive, sometimes outright cheap) red wine, which is heated and spiced with cinnamon sticks, cloves and sugar]. L had brought with her some strawberries and apples dipped in chocolate, and some coconut macaroons. Which was all very yum!!!

There was so much delicious food, and im glad that i had tried a few things and i had eaten more there (even though i had dinner at home), because after my first cup of Glühwein, i had some Canei - sparkling white wine. It was so good that L suggested that we should finish the bottle. So, she went and grabbed it, poured me a full cup, her a full cup, E half a cup and thats how we finished the bottle (already half empty)!

After the Canei, we went back to the Glühwein, just before that ran out too. And after the Glühwein we had some muscat. I think by the time we had the muscat, i was a goner...i was definitely happy...but i didnt feel like puking, so i can only assume that my tolerance of alcohol has upped a level.

As the drunkeness progressed, there were a lot of interrogating questions from L & E, and those questions were thrown back in their direction. I think G was the only one who walked away from that party sober and was probably wishing he was drunk so that he could forget our conversations. I like the fact that we can be frank and then we can turn around the next day and say that we were drunk. I'm glad i was depressed, because i really needed a drink to unwind (although, i ended up with more than 1 drink...)!

I'm also glad, because after Saturday night's events, i had the courage to make contact with my ex but i couldnt get through, so i left him a message.

In my drunken state i heard the first message on my mobile, replied something along the lines of "im a bit drunk right now, speak to you tomorrow..." then it appears to me that he tried to call to check up on me, because i'm never drunk. I obviously fell into a deep slumber and didnt pick up. So, instead he left me a message that i didnt see until 9am the next morning.

Amazingly, no hang over.

So, it was Sunday morning and i called him back. We chatted. There are still some things at his house that are mine and i wanted to go pick them up...like an apron (xmas present), a bathrobe (xmas present), a moose, cookbook, etc. So, i arranged to pick them up Sunday afternoon.

I went over, he had just finished his soccer game and he was in the shower...so there i was, freezing my butt off in the cold waiting for him to get out of the shower to open the door for me. He then pointed out that the door was opened, i could have let myself in. I was wondering if that was something i coulda/woulda/shoulda done? I mean, yeah if i was still his gf...of course. But im not.

We chatted and i asked him for the truth. I told him i needed closure. I needed to know exactly what went wrong - if it was me, i dont want to make the same mistake. I told him that its been over 3 months! I gave him space...now he owed me the truth.

He said it wasnt me, it was him. He didnt think he was good enough. He didnt think that he was the right guy for me. He was at a place where he had no direction, he was going no where. He needed out. He admits it was his fault, he shouldnt have talked marriage with me. Things just didnt work out the way he had planned.

To be honest, in his state, he looked like someone i should pity.

And if we had tried to stick it through, i might have broken up with him a month later anyway...i have a bit more patience than i use to, but i was running low at that point.

I'm just glad to know the truth. Now it doesnt feel all that bad. Because it was him, not me. No matter what i could have done, all correct by him, he would sooner or later drift away from me, because he was at a point in his life where he needed to be free.

I did that to my ex before him. I broke up with that ex because I needed space to find myself. I needed to nurture me. I needed to be on my own. That ex didnt quite understand, because we were young. I am older, and i have worn those shoes. So, i understand that this was meant to be. (Karma coming back at me???)

I can now be glad that he did what he had to do. I couldnt see it before, but i do now. Its hard to break up with someone, especially when you genuinely care about them - i know. I believe him when he says that he loves me still - its just not love in that way. But he really needs to find himself. We will remain friends.

I saw that in his room, the collage i made for him with photos of us together and various ticket stubs, etc. was still hanging on his wall. If he really wanted me out of the picture - out of his life, that would have been taken off the wall a long time ago...so, i still mean something to him.

The photos of us in my room are still there where i had first placed them. They are small, and i could easily pack them away in a box. But i dont want to. Is it weird that i keep it there to remind me that someone use to love me? I have various cutesy things he gave me that i have put up in my room to add to the colour. I dont want to take them down, but shouldnt i? Shouldnt i detox him out of my life? He did break my heart...but i dont want to annihilate him from my world?

I feel that i should do something, but i dont know what.

And is it really necessary that i do do something?

French Kiss...

Book 12 from the Plum series, finally went on sale last week.

Kat bought the book as there was a $10 saving. She is currently reading the Chronicles of Narnia, so she kindly suggested that i read it first. I hesitated. I told her that it was a new book and she bought it, so she should read it first. I guess im finicky that way. If i bought a book, id want to read it before lending it to someone. I told her that i might ruin it some way. She then pointed out that all the other books she had lent me, they always come back in pristine condition.

We started talking about her wedding and stuff. And then we were talking about me becoming godmother to her kids...I was joking about something...and then she joked saying "you're not asking for much are you?" And the joke continued to her thinking that i would talk openly about sex in front of her kids! Still a joke but implications are there...

I was shocked! I would never do that! I might accidentally get caught talking to another adult about the "cheeky" topic in another room without realising there was a kid who had just joined us. But i would never openly talk about such matters in front of a child!!!

Kat thought she could justify it by saying that it was "I" who enjoyed the juicy bits in the Plum series. I told her that she was wrong. What i liked the best about the books, were its outright humour and the sexual tension between the characters. And i enjoy them because of all the sweet PG-rated tactile experiences the main character has with Morelli (the hot cop in the book) and Ranger (the hot bounty hunter/mentor in the book).

The hand holding, the hand behind the waist, the short but ultimate chocolate melting kisses without tongue, the knight in shining armour saving moments, the tender kisses in the palm of the hand...the list just goes on...and its completely clichéd, but i love it!

And i love it so much because its intimate, its personal, and i use to have such moments...

Book 12 is absolutely brilliant, i didnt think Evanovich could out do herself, but im only half way through the book and i wonder whether i should stop reading, because she only just released this book, Book 13 wont be out yet, i dont think she has even started writing it...and then i would have to wait a year or more waiting for it to be written and the released! *gasp*

But the book is so addictive...i think i will finish it tonight and then re-read it on Saturday and then re-read it on Sunday.

While on the train reading the book this morning, I had to let out a sigh when i came to a passage where Ranger kissed the palm of Stephanie's hand while they were in the car.

I use to get those. It was one of the "special" things that only he did. They would make my body go all tingley and a rush of warmth makes me glow from within. I had felt utterly loved and adored. I sighed for reminiscing something that has now become a piece of history...i felt complete nostalgia. It made me think what if the next guy doesnt do those little things? They are little, but are significant to me...

I had to verbally tell myself, in my head, to quit thinking!!!

I guess, im just missing that intimacy these days...i thought i could do without, but obviously not...

hmm...

PS: There is no tongue action in this post. Sorry to get you all excited!

;)

Myer Madness...

I have probably contributed immensely to the madness. I went to Myer just as the doors opened at 8am today.

Allow me to firstly clarify that I usually start work early, around 7:45-8:00AM. Since i was planning on staying back today, as i have a drinks thing to meet up with a friend i havent seen in 2-3 years (cos he has been working in Vietnam and China). I figured i had the time to go and hunt down some bargains and just finish work a couple of hours later than the norm. (I'm lucky to have the flexibility to do so).

I went to Myers specifically to get some wine glasses. I bought some bottles of wine from the Hunter, but didnt have a bottle opener, and during the stocktake sale I had bought this really cool one that came with a foil cutter and a wine stopper. But then i realised that Mum didnt have any wine glasses. So, in true vino style i had to buy some wine glasses!

I popped into Myers before the concert (i was going to listen to at Angel Place) last night. I found some really simple and chic glasses named after moi! It was meant to be and at $10, a third of its price, it was a match made in heaven...BUT i couldnt put them on hold or layby or anything in a way to reserve them. They were laid out for the sale that was to happen today!

It was resolved, i had to come back in the morn and secure my stash of wine glasses. I bought 4 white glasses and 2 red glasses - all $10 each. I was such a happy camper...And then i noticed how it was pretty quiet where i was in the home section. I wondered where all the women i saw marching into the store had disappeared to???

I went back down and found them in the lingerie section. Prior to going into the store, i promised myself that i didnt need to buy anymore bras or underwear. I have soo many that i have yet to wear. A lot of my stuff still have tags on them. I only bought a pretty lacey set from CK 2 months ago that i havent even brought out of the bag...

=(

But i got to tell you, its infectious to stand there and see a crowd of crazy women nabbing all these really great bargains. Stand clear. Dont block a woman from chasing down her bra size on a rack. She will ram you out of the way. I had to be a bit precious, since i had my wine glasses in hand and the 2 reds were only wrapped in paper, (there were no boxes for them). So, i was worried when i was around groups of women, worried that the glasses might get broken. I backed away to some racks where the women werent strip searching. I happily found some really snazzy bargains.

Biggest bargain was the Elle Macpherson Bodyfit bras. Originally, one retailed at $49.95. Then they packaged them as a 2 bra pack and sold them for $69.95 (a saving of $29.95). But at the sale today, it was being sold at $20 for the 2 pack. Talk about a saving - $80!!! Now, how can a girl resist that? There were pretty Crystelle sets, but i was so lucky, there were only big sizes left, and only one in my size. Another girl came to the rack just moments after me and couldnt find her size - which was the same as mine. So, i slowly retreated in the opposite direction to her...so she couldnt see me holding on to it and pounce on me!

All cash registers on the floor, and im talking about the one in the PJ's section, the mens shoe section, the mens clothing section were all surrounded by women trying to pay for their bras and briefs!!! The registers in the lingerie section was swamped. The line was getting too long, which is why the women were being directed to other registers.

Its like, OMG, its not even 9:00AM and thats how crazy the sale was. I walked out of Myers at 8:45AM in time to catch a bus back to the office. I was in the office by 9:05AM and if i didnt have a big Myers bag, no one would have been the wiser. They would have just assumed that i was starting at 9:00AM today. *LoL*

Word of advice, if you have many shopping bags with you and you are catching a bus...and there are 3 buses coming at the same time which are on the same route, with the same Bus Route number, choose the old looking bus to hop on. You get a whole seat to yourself so you can put your bags on the seat, and you dont have to put it on the floor blocking the walkway. No one chooses to hop on to the old looking bus if there are 2 other "newer" looking buses that arrive at the same time.

I'll have to hide my glasses at work today and bring them home tomorrow night. Its too cumbersome to transport to a bar for drinks after work tonight. It will probably get broken too. But i'm so happy, i can crack open my Ernest Hill Semillon...*yum*...yeah i know i swore i would reduce my drinking...but these bargain buys deserve a toasting to! Its a cause for celebration!!!

*^_^*

hahahaha...

The dissemination of petals...

I was going to rip myself to shreads with a critical self analysis. Its what i do at this stage, the 3 month mark. Its not that i was setting out to achieve anything in particular either. I dont want anything to happen. Thats the irony of it all. I dont want to meet new people. I dont want to find a new boyfriend. People keep asking me to get out and meet new people. Get out and you never know, you might meet Mr Right.

But, I just dont want to meet Mr Right. Maybe later, but definitely not right now.

Part of my healing process from the shift and changes is to analyse myself. I break myself down to little pieces and I usually end up feeling really crap about myself wishing that i was better in many many ways. Its like tearing the petals off a flower. Its selfish, filled with self loathing. I am left feeling completely naked and raw.

In a sadistic yet revitalising way - I have enjoyed it. But that was simply because i thought it was a way to help transform me into that better person I have wanted to be. In this bare state after being stripped down, its like having a blank canvas again. Maybe thats why i enjoy it? Its like when i draw or paint. If its blank, i can start all over again.

I was going to pursue the same route of emotionally abusing myself, but I fought myself against it.

I'm older now. Maybe not much wiser, but I've done it too many times before. What is the point of it if it hasnt helped me achieve the "better" me? What is the "better" me? I do change a little after the extensive review of my life. But nothing drastically, where hurting myself is warranted. If anything, its more the realisation and understanding of the good things i enjoy and the outcome is a review of all the things i have yet to achieve and want to go out and do.

So, i dont need to mutilate my soul to figure those things out. I just need to kick back and review my goals in life.

There are some things in the works already. I'm glad i have decided not to waste a couple of months tearing petals off, scattering them around, trampling on the petals, only to start gluing them back on to make a new flower.

Maybe i am a bit wiser?

Artistic ménagerie...

So, I whipped out my easel this weekend and I actually used it to paint a picture.

It is no longer a virgin...after 2+ years!

I said i would paint my friend something out of gratitude for her generosity. And i did. But i am not pleased with it. It should be beautiful. I think its an awful attempt, but i dont want to fix anything...it might make it look worse off. Which makes me question my ability. Thankfully, im not an artist by trade...i wouldnt make any money from it! Luckily i have a degree to fall back on, right?

*sigh*

I know im being self critical.

I should accept that it was my 3rd attempt at actually painting something!

Although, its a painting on primed canvas stretched over a wooden frame...the fact that i painted it, backed on an easel...the idea that i used acrylic paint with a variety of paint brushes...Does that make it a "painting"? Does this make me an artist?

I felt a lot of pleasure in bringing the picture to life...but i dont know...maybe im not seeing dark and light as the way it should be seen. My portrayal of dark and light is, well, a bit more dark than it is light.

The picture that i based the painting on, I feel as though I havent done it any justice. The only comfort that i have, is that i can say my 4 year old niece knew what it was supposed to be. She looked at it and said "Ooo...Aunty, thats a flower..." So, at least its recognisable. I mean, kids are brutally honest. If she didnt know what it was, she would have just asked "Aunty, what is that?"

I spent most of my weekend painting. If my nieces didnt come over on Saturday, I might have finished it earlier. But they popped over on Saturday afternoon. So, I packed up shop at that time to play with them.

I thought it would be good to see if they could paint. I mean, they enjoy drawing...why not let them try painting?

I grabbed my palette of watercolours. Its easier to work/clean up with and less messier than acrylic. While i was setting up, i grabbed some paper and asked them to draw the outlines of things they wanted to paint. I showed Chloe, for instance, the sun...she could just draw the circle and then later she can fill it in with paint.

I left them both to their own devices and got some water and some brushes that would be easier for them to use. I set some newspaper to line the floor and put the palette, brushes and water down. Then I showed them how to wet their brushes and dip the brush on to a colour they wanted to use on the palette.

They both loved it.

Aimee, being 2.5 y/o, didnt quite grasp the water dipping and the changing of colours...so i did that for her, and every time she wanted to use another colour I would ask her which one? She would then start with an "ummm..." *thinkingthinkingthinking* "...this one...no no...this one!" She was absolutely adorable! (Mind you, were talking baby voice here! It just melts your heart!!!)

They both love colours and try to use every colour on the palette. Chloe painted the rainbow with some rain and flowers in a garden...she even painted an underwater feature...she painted a clock...then she painted something that looked abstract to me. Aimee, I helped draw a fish, so she also had an underwater feature...then she painted something on her own...i have no idea what it was meant to be, but she knew what it was. I just dont quite understand her mix of english and baby gibberish sometimes. But i think the variety of dots were supposed to represent our family. Her mother, father, sister, grandmother, grandfather, aunty and uncle.

After they painted a few pictures, we went outside to play badmington. It was fun, they laughed so much...its a delight to have them around when they are behaving! (Obviously!)
=P

After i completed my painting on Sunday, the girls came over again. The first thing Chloe said to me was "Aunty, i want to do some more painting." Unfortunately, my eyes were tired from adding the final details on my picture. So, in true "Aunty" form, i promised her that we would have another painting session next weekend. And knowing Chloe, she wont forget the promise. So, i better make myself available to paint with them.

Its fun playing with my nieces...as they get older, its gets easier, because i understand them more, as they understand me more. I actually played Barbie with Chloe the other time. And the fact is, i didnt even play with Barbie when i was a kid. I actually spent my time making clothes for some other dolls. This is probably why i thought i was going to be a fashion designer...because i was making clothes for my dolls. Mum taught me how to sew with a needle and thread.

Its not that i didnt have a Barbie. I did, but i liked the free accessories and stuff that came with Barbie, not Barbie the doll. Like, Barbie - the Rockstar, came with a cassette with some songs on it. I was more into the cassette than the doll. Then I got this Barbie "Architecture's Desk" that had a lamp attached to it that actually worked! It was the best birthday present that year, because i could use the light during the night - not because my Barbie had a desk! (The light was bright enough for me to see in the dark, but not bright enough for my parents to know that i was awake).

Being with my nieces, they bring me back to my childhood. Most importantly, they make me laugh. Aimee, when she is feeling fiesty, goes up to her dad and suggests that they go into her uncle's room and "smash her uncle"!!! By smashing, she means, tickling, poking his tummy and fake punches. They recruit Chloe and the three of them go nuts when they attack their uncle! I laugh, because were talking about 2 little girls and their father here.

My brother has brought up two little girls who like bashing their uncle up. And its funny, because they are the cutest little girls you could ever meet! They are the type of little girls that if you saw, you'd want to give them lollies. And people do. Take them to a restaurant and the waitress will give them lollies - just because they are cute. Take them to people's houses, they bring out cakes/biscuits/lollies for the girls. We took them to my mother's boss' place and she gave them lollies because they were cute! I see a trend.

So, if you ever witnessed how they bash their uncle up...its hilarious!!! They are like a pack of monkeys. *LoL*

Hmm...i think i went way off course with this post. Too much gushing.

I'm going to end this abruptly, right about now.

Weighty issues...

When i was in Year 3, there was a new girl who joined our class. Her parents were newly divorced, which is probably why her siblings moved with her mother to our suburb, perhaps to start anew.

She had gorgeous blond hair and very sparkly blue eyes. She did dance classes outside of school and said that when she grew up, she would be a dancer for a dance studio. I admired her. She was everything i had wanted and wished i could be. Funny how you want and wish for weird things when you are young. Mind you i also wanted to be an archeologist, doctor, interior designer, architect, teacher, lawyer, etc. Those things didnt amount, obviously.

She was sat at my table and we became friends.

When we went to highschool we started out as friends but were placed in different classes. I was placed with all the smart people because i did well in my entrance exams. She was placed a couple of classes below. We sort of drifted apart. She hung out with the popular westerners. I was with all the smart asians who really cared about their studies.

When we finished high school, our grade was segregated between the asians, arabs, caucasians, others who made their own group. Its not that we werent civil towards each other, we were, but there was still a fine line between the groups.

When i finished high school i focused on fixing my asthma and becoming healthy. It was during summer that i started going to the gym. To swim and do aqua aerobics. Then i found that my allergy to chlorine didnt go away as i had hoped. So, i started going to the gym and did classes. Body Combat was awesome. Its like the down under version of Tae Bo.

This was when i met her again. She was actually doing the classes too. And then later she became an instructor.

The funny thing is, since we parted from high school in very civil manners...actually i dont even recall saying good bye...i didnt think she would acknowledge me, upon seeing me again.

You know those people that you know their names, but if you saw them on the street, you're hoping that they didnt see you, so that you dont have to stop and make idle conversations???

Well, thats what i thought it would be like at the gym. But she said hello, and i said hello back and we did have idle chit chat. Over the years, we mellowed, and we are not really friends, but we chat like we are. Since at the gym, I technically know her the best among all the strangers.

She not only instructs for Body Combat, but also Body Balance. Since i stopped doing Body Combat, we only chat in Body Balance now.

To me she has always been very pretty. During school her she was tall and slim with the right curves. When she started teaching classes at the gym, she was curvy but fit. Recently, i had noticed that she was looking slim. Well, she had been looking that way since i returned from my ankle injury.

Last night i asked her about her weight loss. She said it started about this time last year and she dropped 10 kilos by December (2005). She was getting married in October (2005) and when she realised that she could have lost 10 kilos instead of 6 kilos (by wedding day), she wished she had started earlier.

I asked her what did she do? She said she stopped eating junk food. But it was a very slow process. She would drop about a kilo in 3 weeks, instead of a kilo a week. She really likes dairy as well, and so she changed that by having alternatives and eating less. Instead of milk, she drinks soy milk instead. But she loves her baileys on ice, but she limits that now too.

Her mother is a regular at the gym, as well. And as we were discussing our weight, she provided her input. She said that her daughter would be complaining about her weight, but she recalls that she would stuff herself with comfort food. Like at Christmas, her mother would only make potato salad (with sour cream and mayo) for the celebrations and no other time. Her daughter declares that she loves potato salad, and instead of scooping some onto a plate, she would sit there scooping it straight out of the salad bowl.

Her mother remembers her when she was a dancer, "very long and slim", she describes her as. Thats my memory of her too. I thought the curves were just from the teen years, growing into a woman. But i guess she has proven me wrong. Because now, she is long and slim again.

It was funny how she was retelling stories about looking at her photo album and when she saw some bikini shots of herself. She thought that she was being "rude". A year earlier, she was curvy, ie. busty, and her bust was filling the bikini top. And on her holidays she would be on the beach and people would stare. She always wondered what it was, and now she thinks its because it was "rude" of her for fronting it.

I never thought of her as a prude. But from the way she was talking about it, it seems i was wrong, yet again. Because she was the pretty girl who was also popular, i assumed that she was confident and didnt have the same issues as myself. (She reminds me of Jennifer Hawkins). I mean, she did wear a bikini around the beach. While i would be in boardshorts and a tee would cover my bikini top.

Its not that she doesnt have curves now, but they have been shavened down a lot and her bust has reduced immensely too.

Her mother reminded me of a good point that just hasnt sunken into my brain. A guy at the gym once told her, when she was overweight (which i dont recall her ever being, and i see her regularly) that the ratio of "Food : Exercise" isnt "20 : 80", but it is "80 : 20".

Its all about the food. Very little about the exercising. And if you are exercising heaps and you are not seeing results, that is the big indicator.

Her daughter loves hot chips and burgers, use to eat heaps and heaps of junk. So, she cut it out. She eats it once in a while, now, otherwise she would go nuts. But she is relieved and happy that she has lost weight and has been keeping it off for a year now.

I was thinking about what junk i could cut out from my diet. And honestly, i dont eat the kind of junk that you can replace with a healthier meal. I dont eat Maccas, KFC, i like pizzas, but i prefer the woodfired kind which i dont eat often, so i am capable of avoiding that. I try to minimise the "cream" in take these days, replacing it with tomato base instead.

My problem is sugar. I'm a sugar addict. I love chocolate (which i have now replaced with dark choc of the organic kind). I love well made cakes. I love ice cream. I love lollies. I love biscuits and cookies.

Okay, there you have it. I have admitted to my addiction.

Next plan of action is to cut it out of my diet.

Hmm...thats going to be tough.

Look, i remember when i was young. I was slender. Actually i was a skeleton, because i was sick and couldnt eat properly. I dont know if i should genetically be thin. Throughout my years, i was chubby, skinny, chubby, slender, chubby, fit, then sorta in between, thin, chubby, fit. And thats only from when i was born until i was 15.

CM (the instructor from the gym) was always thin until she put on the weight in high school. Losing the weight now just restored her back to her slender self like the days of when she was a dancer. So, this is typically, what she should look like if she never put on the weight. But she tricked herself into believing that she was meant to be a "Heavy Girl" or a "Big Girl"...continuing the junk haul thinking that the class she was teaching that night would work it off!

Its weird. This girl always seemed so confident, but secretly she was worried about her looks too. And all the women attending her classes were aspiring to look like the curvier her, and were not talking just the heavy girls, im referring to the slightly chubby girls who just needed to drop 2-3kg.

Everyone thought that she was fit and healthy, the ideal shape. Yet, she saw herself as fat. But she was far from fat. And she wasnt Marilyn Monroe curvy either. She was a size 10-12 tall, fit girl. She now looks like a size 8, but for her height it is bordering the skinny side. Thankfully, she isnt trying to lose anymore. I dont want to see a waif training me in the classes.

I guess its motivation, nonetheless, that an instructor who you didnt think could lose weight - since they were already fit, managed to do it by changing their diet only.

So, bye-bye "Sugar!"

And "Hello World!"

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair...

There is an allure with long shiny healthy hair. I never understood it before, until i looked in the mirror one day and admired the reflection of my own long hair.

Which is why I was blasé about what kind of haircut i should have at my hairdressers on Saturday. I am attached to my long hair now. The reason why i was making a visit with my hair guy was because i had noticed some split ends and wanted to get rid of them.

But when i told K that i was going to the hairdressers, she said i should do something wild! I've had my long hair for 2 years now. So, something different was long overdue. But i wasnt sure if i was ready to do the short hair thing now. So, i left that pressure on my hairdresser. The plan was to sit down and tell him that i was 50/50 on short or long. And let him decide what he felt like doing that day.

*LoL*

It may sound like a risk, but i've been visiting him for 5 years now, and he has cut my hair in all various shapes. In other words, i trust him with my hair. He is the only one who I would trust to cut my hair short and do my face and features justice.

The thing is, i know he likes long hair. On the hair front, he sides with my mother, who also likes my hair long. She almost passed out when i told her that i might be cutting it short this time. She told me it would be a waste if i cut it now. But i told her that i didnt want my hair to be skimming my butt! Its already at my waist!

So, when he sat me down and I asked him what he felt like? He responded by telling me that long hair was in fashion right now. That i had really healthy hair (at this length), which would be a waste if he cut it all off and that he would trim about 2.5 inches and layer the front to bring more shape to it. Which is exactly what my mother would have wanted if i was to do anything to my hair! *LoL* Funny how things work out the way she wants it, without her even being involved.

He ended up cutting about 8cm off the bottom and added more layers to the front. My hair looks almost the same, but much healthier than it was moments earlier. The ends felt thicker and fuller - more robust.

When i arrived home, my mother was ecstatic that it looked almost the same as before. Relief washed over her. I wonder why it is so important to her that i keep my hair long??? Whatever the reason, i'm just happy that she is happy.

And im also glad for my own sake. I'm not ready to go short. Healthy long hair should be left alone. Cutting it would be like murder!

***

Saturday night was filled with a lot of food, a lot of chocolate, a lot of wine, a lot of laughter.

There were 6 of us at K & H's place. We were wrapping rice paper rolls with salad and some buttered beef. Sort of in celebration for A's belated bday, that was last week. But the funny thing was that he came bearing gifts for the rest of us!!!

He had just come back from 5 weeks in Europe...and i was given a choice of potpourri from France or a mini bottle of sangria form Spain. One guess as to which i chose!

Since the rest of the party had just come back from Hunter...the wine was just spilling over our glasses. There were cab sav's, semillon's, shiraz, muscat and K cracked open her bottle of Ernest Hill's Silver Moon. H had baked a chocolate cake which we had vanilla ice cream with. They had fudge brought back from the Hunter and some really nice marinated olives too. We also had chocolates from the Hunter and A brought back some chocs from Belgium.

In a drunken state, we started playing cranium. One of the funniest things was when us girls had to play the "Hummdinger" round, where you whistle or hum a tune and your team has to guess what the song is. K had the song "Wake me up before you go-go" by Wham. For some reason, she ended up humming what sounded like the death march of Darth Vader in Star Wars.

There was also a charade game we had to play and my word was roller coaster. I raised my arms up and pretended to scream, then lowered my arms and sort of shook. T screamed the answer and was right. The guys were astonished because they didnt understand how that looked like "roller coaster"! T was like "its the most typical reaction on a roller coaster ride!!!" *LoL*

I left to go home sober with two bottles of Ernest Hills 2005 Semillon and my present from A.

It was an ejoyable night.

"Thinking" Kills.

My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach, residing against my spine. I could feel the pressure on my spine pushing against the back of my seat on the train. My lungs must have collapsed. I couldnt breathe. It felt as though my ribs fell and caged in my lungs.

I choked. My throat was tight, particularly on the right side.

Then tears started to fall from my eyes.

I felt so sad and it was barely 7am.

Moments earlier i was on the phone with the fanatical L, talking about Socceroo's draw against Croatia...although im not a fan, i felt ecstatic from her enthusiasm. I was cheery to a point where i thought i might burst out laughing on the train.

Some minutes had passed and my mind went to a place where it was quiet to think. And when it crossed the word "Hope", that was when i felt sad. Thats when i cried.

Its been over a year and my burden feels really heavy on my shoulders. I feel hopeless, almost at a breaking point. I cant share how i exactly feel with anyone, but on Wednesday night I had told my mother, which i didnt really want to do. She has enough to worry about without me telling her my woes.

I was driving her to get some groceries because we were out of milk. It was just after work. I'm pretty sure i was PMS-ing. I was just so frustrated with life. So angry at my brother for something so insignificant and yet so poignant in my life. I told her i was tired of trying to hold things together. I told her i that i didnt know how long i could take "this" anymore. I told her that no one knows, which is why no one understands.

We both rely on "hope" and the truth is i know she is the only one who understands me, even though i said it in English. "Hope" is now my only lifeline, but it also feels like an enemy.

I'm getting that same sad feeling (on the train) right now, writing this, admitting to this. I cant believe tears have escaped my eyes again.

On the drive back, my mother tried to comfort me by telling me a story. She told me that when she was pregnant with me she felt really lucky. When she gave birth to me she felt an overwhelming sense of luck and fortune. She thought she had given birth to a lucky child. She believes that i am lucky. Everyone in my family believes that im lucky. Which is why my Chinese name is what it is.

I thought my name had meant strength/foundation. Well, that was what i was told when i was younger. But apparently, its a derivative of "Gia Boh" (which you really have to say in Teo Chiew). My Aunt Linda wanted to name me that, but my mother said it sounded too harsh in the Vietnamese translation...so my mother changed it to what it is today. Apparently, "gia boh" is meant to be the word in Chinese for "unique" or "one of a kind" in the sense of luck and good fortune. For my relatives my birth was this special, one of a kind, a lucky gift that descended upon them. I was the only grand daughter, the only niece to be born. Everyone else had given birth to sons. Since, I brought them the good fortune of a girl in the family, that meant that i was a lucky person.

I know what she was trying to tell me, but it didnt help.

It only started this whole sad, choking feeling...helping the tears fall from my eyes.

My brain must be awfully powerful. I'm not trying to be arrogant, insinuating that i am uber smart. What i mean is that it must be powerful, since it is capable of unimaginable things. From a single word, my brain can invoke intense emotions that are negative and have no correllations to that word. "Hope" is like a double edged sword to me now, but it never was before. One thought and my brain has turned it into one of my worst enemies.

The grey mass inside my head conjures and processes thoughts that tortures me from within. I know i think too much. Which is why i try to distract myself as much as possible. Its ironic that something that doesnt physically exist may be the one thing that will lead me to destruction.

Please dont take this as a suicide note. Its not. I am not going to hurt myself. Funny how the grey mass is smart enough to decide NOT to take that path. I still know what is right and what is wrong. I just feel so sad. The shade of sadness is not pale blue, its more the shade that is soo deep that it is almost black. But im giving in to that speck of light that i see as my guide in all the dark shades of blue.

You know how there are signs on the packaging of cigarettes that say "Smoking Kills"? I just wished someone had packaged my brain with a sign that read "Thinking Kills". At least then i couldnt deny the warning.

Keyboard Basher.

There is a tosser in the midst of my floor at work. He talks SOOO loudly on his mobile with no regard for the people around him. If he can be f@#$ed, he uses the landline that is at the desk next to me, as the desk that he is currently using does not have a landline. AND that frustrates me more. I can barely think. I pretty much stop working because I am unable to function with all the racket he is causing.

I have decided to classify this guy as a "tosser", after i read Xtn's post.

We are sharing an open floor plan. The partitions between each cubicle is actually very low. There are no partitions between the people to your left or right. Only between the people who sit across from you. This guy is actually in the next pod of cubicles.

When he is typing, he bashes the keys!!! Its so loud, that when i walk to the kitchen which is 100m away, i can still hear him tapping!!! Wait. "Tapping" is too delicate a word, that doesnt even begin to describe what he is doing to the keys.

He is one of those people who uses his 2 index fingers to type. Fair enough, the guy doesnt know how to type properly...and so to compensate for this, he types really fast by bashing the keys at a ridiculous rate. I'm surprised he manages to get anything done...you would assume that by typing with two fingers, at that rate, there would be numerous spelling mistakes!!!

If you had a migraine, his key bashing would be like a hammer to your temples.

*bang*
*bang*
*bang*

He has unkempt longish hair which he ties in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He doesnt seem to shave all that often, as he has this ragged 5 o'clock shadow. He also seems to have only one beige shirt and one pair of brownish trousers that he wears every day of the week to work.

In terms of work, i have nfi what it is that he does. But it seems that he doesnt want to do anything, because from the way he argues to on the phone about the work he is supposed to do...he is telling whomever that he either cant, wont, or will not be able to do it!

O_O

He also has this thing where he goes into a meeting room, dials a conference call number, puts the speaker on the phone to the loudest volume, leave the meeting room with the doors wide open to go and make a cup of coffee. Meanwhile, people from other offices are dialling into the same number and are talking like there is no tomorrow. Everyone else in our office can hear their conversations, because the f@#$ing door is left wide open, while the tosser is getting a f@#$ing coffee from the kitchen!

This hasnt happened on just one occasion. Nor has it happened on two occasions. It has happened on a number of occasions. And just as we are about to do something about it, he rushes back to the meeting room with his coffee in hand and *bangs* the door shut. Then we cant be f@#$ed to say anything as their meeting is underway.

I cant believe how much he frustrates me. But i cant be bothered since im stuck doing end of month client billing to actually start a war with him.

*pfft*

Good Morning Sunshine!

Was i the only one to witness the glory of 2 rainbows early in the morn yesterday?

It was about 7:15am. I was on the train. It started to drizzle. Then the rainbows appeared.

It was so pretty. One was intense in colour. The other was pastel and faint.

Their arcs were formed concentrically.

I'm pretty sure that it was in fact only one rainbow - the inner intense coloured one. I am also pretty sure that the outer fainter coloured one was the shadow of the former. Probably caused by the rain and refractive light of the sun that happened to have risen at the right time.

But that doesnt stop it from being a sight to behold!!!

There is something about the geometry. That the arcs are concentric. Who has ever seen a shadow form around an actual shape? Making the shape the item in the centre. The only time i can think of a shadow doing that, is when you are directly on top of an object/thing and you are getting a birds eye view. But i was sitting on the train. The angles were not aligned with a birds eye view or even a straight on view. I was so far from being perpendicular to the centre of the rainbow.

Hold up! Why didnt it occur to me earlier...? (derr petals!) The sun. The sun is what was aligned perpendicularly with the formation of the rainbow. If anything is going to cause a shadow up in the heavens, it would be the sun!

Anyhoo, it was awesome!

I didnt think anything surprising would occur this morning. Or that anything would occur to match what happened yesterday. But this morning, the sun was just rising...behind some clouds...and it was GLORIOUS! Just behind the clouds, the sun was yawning, the rays were reaching out. I wanted to capture it.

I dont know how, i didnt think about the method i would use to catch it. I considered taking my mobile out and snapping a photo, but when i decided to, the train had progressed and the angle was now wrong. Even if i tried, from where i was sitting, i wouldnt get a nice shot.

I decided that there is no point in capturing a photo of it. I'll paint it. And if i have photographic evidence and my painting didnt measure up to the photo, i would be devastated. So, i will rely on my memory.

I had promised myself that i would paint another picture before the end of this year. A present for someone. This person doesnt know it, as i havent told them. It will be a surprise. They have been lovely and i appreciate their generosity immensely. I had better start cracking if i plan to paint that picture as well as today's sunrise.

I wonder if tomorrow will present itself with another wonderful "hello" to me? Third times the charm...so they say.

My parents celebrated 31 years of marriage yesterday.

Yesterday, also marked my 1 year anniversary with my contracting company. I've worked in project management for a year. I sent an email to my manager to say thank you. He replied by telling me that i had made his day and he hoped that i had a lovely one too.

Today, marks the 1 year anniversary of my touch footy career. Well, it was the first and last day - since I broke my ankle playing. My ankle is still not 100% and i have been told that it never will be. But i can walk. I can run. I can do almost anything but hop too long on my left leg - and who wants to do that anyway? So, i really cant complain...until i try to do balancing yoga acts on my left leg. *LoL*

Today is the 1 year anniversary of seeing my Doctor in the city. He's my alternate to my local GP. He looked after me straight after i broke my ankle, because he was located in my building and the PM (I was working with at the time) had recommended him. He did a wonderful job. I now see him whenever i have an issue and i am unable to see my local GP.

Sleeping Beauty and her Illicit Affair...

For some reason in the past 3 weeks, I have slept for about 12 hours from Saturday night and waking at 12 noon on Sunday.

I dont know what has gotten into me...albeit, i did have the flu during the long weekend...but the weekend earlier and the weekend that just past...im not sure how to explain it. I am naturally an early riser. I havent been sleeping in since the days of Uni and clubbing, which is a good 3-4 years ago. I havent slept over 8 hours for about a year.

I wonder what is going on with my mind and body???

It seems to be spazzing out on me.

Btw, I have found the real culprit for my wrinkle too! I was brushing my teeth on Saturday morning and realised that when get rid of the toothpaste in my mouth, my lips/mouth does a funny face and its this funny face that i pull which is the reason why i have that wrinkle.

And since wrinkles come from repetitive actions causing the elasticity to diminish under the skin...my wrinkle is also from the face pulling when i am putting lipbalm/lipstick on and putting cream on my face.

I cant help the face pulling. 25 years worth of doing these innocent tweaks to the face is very hard to undo. So, i have to just live with it...and try my best to be "graceful".

The "Illicit Affair" mentioned in the title, isnt quite illicit. I just like over-dramatising things for the sake of it.

My Will isnt gay. Although, i like to pretend he is. He is in fact a guy i had dated 4 years back. We got along fine then, but i didnt love him. And so i broke it off. We have always shared mutual interests in art, film, food, culture, books, music and travel.

It would be a dream come true for me if he was in fact gay. I mean, then he could be my date to things when i didnt have one. And it would be great for him if i was a lesbian. Sadly, we prefer the opposite of our sexes. And from previous experience, we know that we dont work as anything other than really good friends.

Friday night, i went and watched Bell Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" with My Will. Out of curiosity over dinner at Young Alfred, i asked whether his friends knew about us "hanging out" together, like we do? He said no - that it was a secret.

I'm not really surprised that it has been kept a secret. But at the same time, i wonder at how juvenile some guys can be? It wasnt an uber bad break up...it wasnt like we broke up because one of us had cheated. It was done as amicably as possible once it was realised that things werent working out. And he himself is over it...so, why would his friends be uncool about the fact that we hang out as plutonic friends? Why do guys care so much whether a mate was hanging with his ex (of yonks ago) or not? And is it really about his mates or is it really about his own fears - if his mates found out?

I just ignored the whole "oooh...were seeing eachother in secret" because my friends know that im hanging out with him. And my friends are cool with it, because its my life and my choices. Were not doing anything wrong. Were company for eachother to do the things that no one else but us enjoy doing. He is the friend i ask if i want to go and watch a foreign film. I'm the friend he asks to join him if there is an exhibition he knows no one else will want to go to. There is a mutual understanding and appreciation for all things cultural and visual/mentally stimulating.

It is a shame that it didnt work out previously, but i love the fact that we can be friends. And if our relationship - this hanging out with one another - must be kept a secret, then so it shall be.

Speaking of Illicit Affairs...I watched Season 3 of Sex and the City again. I know, i know...its an addiction now! But what i wanted to point out is that i cant sit and stomach the way Carrie cheats on Aidan Shaw with Mr Big (who is married at the time).

I frown on any form of cheating in relationships. I dont believe in lying. I dont believe in grass-cutting. I dont believe in affairs with married or attached men. It is wrong. WRONG! And I really hate Carrie for cheating on Aidan. Aidan was a lovely, good looking, talented, tender loving man. Honest and devoted...he was the rock for her to hold on to...their relationship was really good and then she f@#$ed it up by sleeping with Mr Big. Mr Big is married with Natasha at this point in time. Even though he says its not working...they shouldnt have had the affair. If it wasnt working, he should have just divorced Natasha. Not have the affair and then divorce. Carrie, being attached to Aidan and telling him that she loves him, goes and bonks Mr Big anyway...even though she knows it is wrong.

I cant tolerate people who lack will power. I know some are not as strong as I am. And I am not declaring that i have the strongest power of will either, I am human after all. But something like cheating with a married man, while you are attached to a loving boyfriend that you declare that you love - its a BIG no-no in my books! Its a cardinal sin that i dont believe that anyone should commit to the person they love, if they truly love them...

The only time where I would forgive a person for doing "the wrong" is when they didnt know that they were doing it. Specifically, i mean if a guy has lied to a girl or when asked if he was single, led the girl to believe that he was actually available when he was attached. Then i wouldnt blame the girl for not knowing the wiser. He lied to her. He lied to his current girlfriend/wife. But if you find that you have been misled, get out as quick as you can. Dont think that a cheater will change his ways for you. Salvage yourself and your dignity from that disaster. We all have standards, dont let your standards be so low.

* Vice versa too, if a girl had lied to a guy about her status...then the guy isnt in the wrong for being misled by the girl.

Thats my thoughts on the subject.

In future, i might just skip Season 3...i cant keep cringing each time i watch it. The face pulling will give me more wrinkles!

=P