It has been an eventful week! Say apart from this one day which my brain decided to be a wanderlust for a day, and one specific hater at work who has been trying to bend the truth and painstakingly attempted to dig me in, I am a self proclaimed lucky girl. Seeing how everyone rejoices at the fact of us being together, it almost feel as if they are giving their true and sincere heartfelt blessings. I think the both of us fit into this category of a 'one' quite well. =)

And that hater really did spend a significant amount of effort and time just to try. How devious, how apparent, how so funnily childish, how lousily plotted her scheme was. Which makes me conclude, the lesser one's educated, the more insecure one is. I'll sing my own praise here, she's doing a right thing in order to keep her ass warm. Because I am infinitely stronger, no doubt. But that shall depends on how far my ego is willing to compromise because right now, I am very well aware that I don't suck balls even though it's seriously just a will of my mind. I don't need to have this job as much as she does. It's a scary thing about playing punk with someone who has nothing to lose. 

"If you are this way because of your upcoming promotion, let me gently remind you, that you would still be glued low in this hierarchy of social status. You can pretend that you are high and you would have to bleed in order to beat me. Psst." 

Garbage - Stupid Girl.

Ok. Bye peeps! I'm off to do nails for this fourth date with this very hot man! 

One short update.

Let's go insanely unsound with these really cool stuffs that I would really die to own. 

Marc by MJ - Locket Pocket Big Collapsible Tote.

The white patches look like clouds to some.

But they sure look like sheeps to me! That's the cuteness of it.

Balenciaga's the Giant Lattice City.

It's seriously not very costly.

Just USD2695.00.

/rolls eyes

This is USD2825.00. 

Just when we thought Bottega Veneta was the only one good at doing woven leather...

Finally! Another designer flip phone after D&G's collaboration with Motorola!

I can wear those pistol heels to play CS!

I hope I won't see em when I walk past Chanel this September. 

Really.

"Lord, just gimme either one of the Balenciagas and that pair of Chanel heels. And I'll stay contented for the rest of my life. Thank you."

"Oh in case you don't know my shoe size, it's size 6."

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Reading Butterfly's blog never fails to be captivating and sure enough, it triggers off thinking neurons in my mind, which now, I call a blank field. He may be portraying an image of being an asshole but he's downright honest, no doubt. As for the haters out there who strongly think that the world would be a better place less of him, I think you are merely being delusional. That's because you are choosing not to see what's actually happening right in front of your eyes. 

Okay. My mind, as I have so mentioned, has been such rot that I could soon be applying for a pigeon's nest for a home. The reasons why I am such walking dead could be the undue stress from work which I have been piling up inside me, it could be the lack of sleep, or it could have been the fact that I am now dating my superior. Which of course, definitely and infinitely sounds damn kinky to anyone who's reading this, and those who know my innate nature. Haha. And if you are feeling happy for me, I thank you because I am feeling good about this 'whole thing' myself. 'Whole thing' here is ambiguous. Please rack your brains for my sake. 

Yaladayee... I am such happy girl now that I can have marshmallows for meals. 

I had a dream last night that my guinea pigs were dying. The strangest thing of the dream was that the symptoms that they presented before their deaths were, Brownie turned itself into grey/white with her rugby color eyes and Sparky changed into scary electric blue with her current black eyes. I was seriously traumatized that I think I almost jumped out of bed. The pain was so real I think I almost shed a tear. Now come to think of which, they sound so much like zombiepigs instead of dying ones. 

Okay. I gotta really go change out the piggies before they really turn themselves into zombies and kill me.

Karma.

After having made fun of Alienated.B for possessing a single digit for his IQ, I was coincidentally, having one for today. 

What.the.fuck.

I have never experienced this way until today. The ever-raging and overwhelming neurons transmitters seemed to have taken flight. My brain was practically a blank field. I was so disappointed and ashamed of myself. I thought that good karma danced his way around me today and had almost wanted to chiong to the nearest temple to offer my respects to buy a peace of mind. 

I tell you. My mommyo is uber cute because I just had this convo with her which goes like this:

Mum: Do you want dinner tomorrow?

Me: No. I'm going out after work.

Mum: Are you coming home?

Me: You forgot 'what time'.

I hope the later today, would be better. After all, I think I have gotten this very hot date with a very hot guy. :p

Janet totally turns me on in this vid luh. OMG.

Someone please sing me a lullaby to sleep tonight?!

Mars attack!

I didn't actually think that ugly and fucked up people do exist until this new guy came into the company. Let's just call him Alienated.B or rather, freak. 

Alienated.B was (so I've heard) with the IT industry, and I really wonder what the schools have been teaching these days. And when the news broke out to me that he is about to enter SIM or SMU, I tried to call up to enquire on their level of criteria for their students intake. 

"Oh perhaps he's all mixed up on the abbreviation and is actually about to be admitted to IMH instead?" says Chrissey.

I never would have even thought that single digit IQ level do exists until I met him.

It's really fine that you are born to be mentally challenged. But what if when one is, and one thinks he's not and tries to be smart, act smart, be cool, act cool? Please call this conscious incompetence and the need for him to validate this insecurity by pretending/defending that he's not. Because he's relatively new to this whole fashion thingii, all at work tried to patiently coach and teach him the ropes. All except for me. I am very much known to be an impatient person, and I hate repeating myself. But one thing for sure, which I very much would love to repeat over and over again, is this: "Clearly unequal people certainly do not deserve equal chances." 

Seriously, if I had taught you once, and you don't want to fucking learn, I can force myself to teach you twice. If you still come knocking on my door for the third time asking the same god damn question, I will let my dogs out to bite you, rape you and pwn you. If you don't know, find your ways to seek the answers through observation and research, instead of troubling the person next to you while she or he is trying to work. Always try your best to seek unknown before you ask. That makes people feel that you have in fact, been trying to make an effort to learn on your own and people will in return, be more tolerant with you. To make my working days worse, the mistakes he has been committing never fail to propel me to question his common sense, if he has any. 

Which so explains why I call him Alienated.B. Because he's not human.

And he almost made me throw up the yummy romantic dim sum I had this morning, today.

He always says, "I know. I know." Oh fuck it! He obviously doesn't know if he cannot actually differentiate purple from black and brown from navy. And when someone kind actually tried to tell him that he had gotten the colour wrong, he talked back, "I know I know"?!?!? Hello?! These colours are so much light years apart that if I were to ask a blind to sniff the respective different colours out, I am sure the blind can fare better than him.

He should really count himself lucky that he hasn't asked me anything and talked back with a "I know I know" when I try to look at him in his face and help him. (Did I mention that I was deprived of aesthetics every time I look at him when I converse with him?) Because I know for sure, if he was to ask me for a help and tries to prove his wishful intellectual level by saying "I know I know", I will make sure I screw his insides out with perfect pull-downs and insults and ask him to show me what he actually knows. If he can't, Chrissy does what she does best. 

That is, being such a god damn bitch.

Don't you just love me being bad? =)

I am your stranger. Jump.

So it has been a while since the day I decided to drop my sketch book/journal and leave it at home. My tendencies to read and do poetry certainly has dropped. Strings of emotions and thoughts were neatly packed away, in accord with the avoidance of them. I had spare time to waste today after a very meaningless early meeting. And after having caught a movie and sending my dress to alteration, I took a long bus ride home, remembering that I need to sort out my thoughts. 

The objective being the want to tell him that I fancy him and the need to tell myself not to. 

It's peculiar to even have an objective in the first place. Because in the end, no conviction was concluded. However, the slow walk through the tiny shops at FEP were soothing enough to stop thinking about this for a spur. 

One very unfamiliar door may seem uninviting, but it opens welcomely to another. The fear of not wanting to venture into an uncomfortable zone seems natural enough. But what if I happen to be one of those who needs risks and challenges in order to grow and yet, too proud to not want to risk any sort of rejection? I would call contingency plan. But what if there's none? And it backfires till this extent that the platform both he and I are standing on begin to tumble? If there's no room for salvation, things would get ugly. One thing for sure, I am still trying hard to will my emotions. 

I had an emphatically urge breaking out of my threshold, wanting to tell him that I do indeed feel for him. It was an almost reckless idea because given my impatient nature, I know I would worsen this whole thing. And if I had told him, he may not need to reciprocate and leave it unrequited. But what if the aftermath of my confession, was the gravity of my feelings being too heavy for him to handle? I had the text typed, and decided not to send it with a very loud shut of my phone. I stared out of the window, and suddenly, the leaves around me started to fall from where they branched. At that point of time, I thought I saw AT's shadow. A very vague image of his smug face, a confident one, which tells everyone around him that he knows he's good. The same face I saw the afternoon I left him. I haven't felt this strong towards anyone after AT. And the fear of another bad ending taunts and daunts me. My genesis of this ego now, cannot risk any form of fragmentation. And just when I was done with the idea of being alone, the intrusion of his presence had to call on me.

I swayed my beliefs again. And I want to fall in love this badly, that I think I need to turn psychotic on myself. Let's not forget that I am a cryptic crossword ninja and I absolutely love mind games with little teases and flirts. 

Freedom

when gravity loses its grip,

the lightness on your feet,

time stands still.

"...the saddest girl wants to love so that she could die."

P.S who on earth, told me that safari web browser was good when it just hanged on me thrice!

If you are single and not celebrating V'day with a few single friends, sick of CS, dota, l4d, maple and sims 2 like me, try this link here for really nice flash games. Games I used to play with that idiot, Bennett. Oh, and Bennett, cheer up luh. You suck, still, as always. You remember all about Stefan and nothing about me luh. Fark you.

I am in such deep shit with myself that I most prolly need two days to sort out my thoughts at least. My ego has always been such merciless on myself and I cannot seem to escape it's wretched chokehold. I am in a state of confusion, not knowing what to do with myself. Being too proud to even bow to anyone, I won't be saying anything positively suggestive to you. Yet, all I can do, is just to rant here, doodle and dream, about us - you, you and you.

Argh. Wretched me, wretched cupid with his fucked up marksmanship. Wrong time, wrong person.

-

I uploaded the songs I used to listen to when I was in primary school and fell in love with em all over again, totally! /glee

Feel loved.V'day '09.

A look through ajar doors;

I couldn't tell.

I couldn't tell you nothing more.

I didn't feel.

I couldn't feel.

The world sank in;

warped we, silent.

Materialized a thousands thoughts;

of glee, of joy,

or melancholy?

Backs turned, and walked.

Far, 

and away from an equal point of inevitability.

What blossoms out?

Of a snowflake on a stove.

-

-

Something big happened luh. Jude's cuzzy was diagnosed with Aids, and wtf? Totally traumatizing and please, if you, who's reading this, happens to sleep with any Tom, Dick and Harry or Jane, Ann and Mary, please go for your check ups. We don't need an epidemic of Aids. I heard on the news some time back that they are training dogs to sniff cancer outta patients. Maybe I should train my guinea pigs to sniff Aids outta everyone around me luh. So Chrissy can save the world, I should just save the world.

I don't apprehend why everyone is wishing one another a Happy Vday when it isn't even a holiday to begin with.  You must be thinking, I sound sore because I am single? Hmm... MEH!! You fuck shit don't know me at all. Haha. 

 

Shoot forth thunder.

Shoot forth thunder.

Shoot the dog.

Pull the trigger,

say,

I wanna be next to you, like

Black & Gold.

Bags Craze.Hello

Goyard's St Louis collaboration with Japan's Mastermind.

Hello peeps! I have absolutely nothing to talk on about the bag above. Because it's simply, totally hot. When the Guccis and the LVs are so over-rated these days till the extent that when we walk past those vege-buying aunties at the market talking about them, Goyard made it's way into this whole bag brazen craze (please google it). Not forgetting Balenciaga's very pretty Motorcycle bag, and Chanel's really must-have 2.55, Goyard St Louis is infinitely hotter than the LV's Neverfull and definitely Gucci's Tofu bag. So please, don't be upset just because you aren't owning any LVs or Guccis, because to me, LVs and Guccis are just common leathergoods. LOL. Do I just sound like a bitch? Haha. Whatever.

Today I had a training class at iShop. It was fun because not only was both leaders hilariously quick-witted, they are very interesting people to begin with. And the bonus being the chance to meet so many individuals from other brands - first lines, second lines, third lines and the list goes on. And having observed everyone, I have realised that somehow, working with the higher end fashion industry, you tend to 'brand' yourself up.  Everyone was carrying very expensive bags, and wearing expensive clothes. /applause Man. I love all these brands-slapped faces and contours.

The month is slowly coming to a death, and I heard a rumour that something good is happening at the end of this month, which should be the direct cause for me to charge into Chanel and throw the cash. Someone with a good heart and soul, please talk me out of getting a Chanel. Because I can easily get almost 9 Wiis with that money, and of course, the lasik surgery. 

But hey, I think I heard the news that I can use my CPF to offset my lasik cost? =D double glee man.

The World's On Fire.

Women smoking hatred - at their sexiest.

Ironic aphorism.

-

There isn't a word to better express my hate, loathe, despise towards this shit/hell-hole Jurong. Having being stayed here for more than two freaking years, I am proud to say still, I am unfamiliar with this precinct - that if you were to drop me 10 blocks away, I wouldn't be able to make my own way home without hailing a taxi. This isn't really my fault. I was not born to grow up in a can of tuna. And I wonder how deprived of parents-taught social etiquette, privacy and solitude, these residents who have stayed here all their lives.

Anyway, the issue being the people here. As "Noose" on Channel 5 had previously suggested to build the dormitory for those blacks here instead of Serangoon Gardens, I can't help it but to raise my toes in agreement. To speak justifiably, the residents at Serangoon Gardens paid more for their abodes, their own pieces of heaven. Imagine a school full of those people standing out of nowhere amongst the beautiful semi Ds and terraces? Don't mean racism, don't get me wrong. I do appreciate the things they do for us which of course, includes the cleaning up of my house for CNY'09.

The second kind of people. 

Darn, we are all trying to pretend that the MIC club is seriously just an stagnant iota of poisonous gases beyond the ozone layer above and that they will never be walking beside you, taking the train with you, or be in the cubicle next to you at Ngee Ann City's toilet. That pretence could be made valid, but not when you reside in Jurong. I assure you that they are so widely dispersed that the explosive seed dispersal method used by some plants is considered minor.

There are two species of mankind in which I would never be able to read, nor do I wish to comprehend.

Having slept most nights away here in Jurong for the last 2 years, I haven't had a night which I fantasized a neighbour nor haven't I met one who looks tasty enough to awaken the temptress in me. The only one who apparently stood out from the rest, was this Butch staying just a few blocks away or something with her own way of style and dress sense. 

The girls/boys here look like they need to subscribe to Vogue all their lives. What's so difficult with watching a few runways and sourcing for looks through Google? Perhaps staying put in a rural area has somewhat managed to alter these chamber of neurons, and convinced the Mind that the Body is indeed somewhere far away from civilisation. It's horrifying when I try to take the train/bus because it feels as if I am watching Dawn of the Dead all the time. And why Dawn of the Dead? Because the first category never fails to carry this fetid smelling rot with them wherever they venture.

Bad day #463543.

I hate China.

Because of them, imitations are everywhere. 

And that means no buying on eBay.

And I swear I would always pay a full authentic price for everything I am going to purchase in the future.

-

I ripped a pair of stockings and wore it with my high cut red converse today. With a DKNY low neck black dress and a butterfly sleeves cardigan from M:)phosis. Because I was (still am) so totally pissed off with today, I didn't feel like snapping any photos although I really fancy my 'look' today. I was asked by so many people whether I had accidentally torn my stockings and I am very upset that Singapore's always a tad lagged behind, fashion-wise.

It's 12.14am now and my nails look horrible. And I haven't thought of what to wear later.  

Omen Breathe Voodoo People

So the above pic says it all! It was fucking awesome luh! But I saw a few aunties there. Perhaps they've thought that it's Rod Stewart and excitedly they came, disappointedly they left? Meh. I am such a bitch.

This is Glenn da self proclaimed hunk! Psycho-ed me early in da morning! And knowing that it's hard for myself to resist this kind of temptation, for a better excuse to attend the gig, I rang Trac up to check whether she is going. Darn. The next moment I was at sistic charging to my card for an event-day ticket which was 108 moolah. 

On a bus. I am so broke that I have to take a bus. Damn Dylan for playing me out. Boo to you! Don't say you'll make it up to me!

No Regrets! The Prodigy still rocks!

-

Oooh. Thanks fireburn for this setlist yall?!

The equation for today is CN4=85.

Man, I can't quit watching that Live performance of "Fairground" by Simply Red. It gives me creeps every single time. 

The first bouquet of flowers which was sent to ma crib was for my Mom, from some Norwegian guy. Meh, drop jaw man, my mom is a SPG. Haha. And sulky furrowed brows because it's neither for me or Dawn. 

Note to myself:

If it's four months', 75.89% sure on getting a Chanel.

If it's three months', 88.34% sure on getting a Wii.