This is weird. I want to talk to you. I want to feel your presence. Yet, staring blankly at the open chat window not knowing what to say is sending little jabs of soreness through my heart. Which makes my eyes water. Just a tad though. I've had this before, i know the drill. Blink a few times, swallow and the eyes would dry up on their own. It's a 3 second process, provided you can successfully berate yourself mentally for being an idiot and suck it in.
Have we reached the phase where there is nothing much to say to each other? Is it because we are technically living separate lives? Or maybe i'm the only one feeling this way because of the disappointment brought upon by the revelation that your plans are unexpectedly different from mine.
Or maybe i'm just spending too much time idling away and being a complete waste of space on earth, thus leading to excessive boredom which then lead to unfounded frustration over the most trivial matters.
Or maybe i just need more food. Even though i had consumed 2 times more than my required calorie intake today.
Its okay. If i ignore the problem, it'll go away.
The author of one of the random blogs which i read has finally broken up with her boyfriend whom she had been consistently complaining about over the past few months due to his lack of concern for her. This isn't a typical case of an attention-hungry girlfriend whining about her boyfriend not being at her beck and call, this is a case of a self-absorbed boy in a man's body, who loves his girlfriend as much as he loves dirt and treats her like it to prove his point, but doesn't have the courtesy to end things with her and stop wasting her time. It even reached a point where he made her brave through the freezing weather on foot because he was too worried to let her drive his car without him sitting beside her. Guys like these disgust me. I hope he marries a hot chick who'd turn into an obese bitch and kick him around (think Norbit's wife) after 3 months of marriage.
With all the problems that they had in their relationship, i've always wondered why she wouldn't just dump him. Perhaps she was half-hearted about letting go because they had been together for a long time and she had envisioned their future together. Besides, she wasn't getting any younger, so there's always the fear of not being able to find someone else.
In fact, this is one of women's most dire problems (right below a broken condom and one step above having not-so-great facial features). I believe in the adage on the negative relationship between a woman's level of attractiveness and her age. Because not all of us can afford, nor have the will, to become Demi Moore and not all men have a strange preference for saggy boobs and wrinkled skin. Therefore, a woman who stays in a relationship with the same man long enough to lose her physical appeal only to find out that the man is so big of a jerk that he's one rung lower than slugs, would soon realise that she's gotten herself into a massive amount of shit.
Because the ideal decision to dump the guy would almost certainly earn her a place in SpinsterVille. Of course, there are people who do get married at 40, but i don't see how fitting into a wedding gown with a chunky, 4-decade-old body and chauffering a 10-year-old kid to tuition classes when you're 52 can be romantic. (I realise that all you feminists may be frowning upon my seemingly desperate need to get hitched but my life long dream is to live off my husband's money, watch tv and stuff my face with unhealthy snacks every single day. So there.)
Hence, women should find ways to alleviate this problem. I propose casually dating other men while being in a committed relationship. This way they would have a basis on which to evaluate the suitability of their current partner to become their potential life partner. Besides, this method is justified because women, unlike men, do not have their minds controlled by their genitals therefore casual dating would be restricted to having friendly conversations over a cup of fruit tea. And maybe classy gourmet dinners once in a while. Add in weekly sponsored shopping sprees and the combination would be perfect. =D
In essence, without fornication, it isn't exactly infidelity. (There, another piece of Princess MeowMeow's precious wisdom passed on to you.)
Last weekend was spent in KL having the most unfulfilling shopping trip ever. Went shopping with Nish on Friday but came back empty handed. (Except for a black tube dress, but according to Princess MeowMeow's Big Book of Life Wisdom, any amount below 5 items is considered "empty handed" when it comes to shopping sprees in KL.)
Stayed in Genting with PotatoPig on Friday night. Somehow it was exceptionally cold. Not the kind of cold which makes the hair on your arms stand, it was more like taking a bath at 4 a.m. in a tub full of ice with the temperature being -5 degrees outside. I was literally shivering, which says a lot about how chilly it was, because i don't normally get shivery very easily since i'm a Disney princess and we Disney princesses are quite strong.
On Saturday i was supposed to continue shopping with Nish while PotatoPig went to class but she wasn't feeling too well so i ended up shopping by myself for 8 hours or so. Didi was free to accompany me but she could only go to 1U and i am useless when it comes to taking public transportation so i decided to just stay put in Times Square. Contemplated calling Juean out but i figured that i'd be better off shopping alone than dragging a guy who thinks of shopping as the next best thing to scrubbing toilet bowls with a toothbrush around.
Nonetheless, i don't really mind shopping alone. In fact, i find it quite comfortable that i can shop at my own pace and be as fickle as i like. And by fickle i mean entering a shop, spotting something i like, trying it on, leaving the shop in pursuit of something else which i might like better, not finding anything that i like better, returning to the first shop and repeating the whole process two more times.
(See, this is why i don't really shop with PotatoPig, because being a hog and all, he would get tired after 2 hours so we would have to take a break, which gives him a good excuse to eat, thus making him even fatter till the point of near explosion.)
Anyway, after 8 hours of solitary shopping i still couldn't find anything i liked therefore, making this shopping trip an utmost failure. However, we checked into Ancasa Hotel later that night and our room had a gorgeous view of KL tower and the bustling roads below. There's a sense of inexplicable coziness that comes from looking at a brightly lit city which is reduced to a miniature size from 4 storeys high. That made up for the botched shopping quest hence, i was contented.
One thing i noticed from this trip is how immaculately made up the girls in the malls were. All of them seemed to have flawless hair and perfect make up. And that made me a teenie bit conscious of the fact that i looked like a slob in my Little Miss t-shirt, fluorescent pink farmer-like pants and no make up. Just a teenie bit though. I got over it in 3 seconds and resumed shopping happily like a fat kid surrounded by colourful cakes and cookies, oblivious to his surroundings and the disapproving looks of all the other skinny people. So all was fine and dandy until PotatoPig showed up and commented that i looked like a lost kid from a rural village.
Then again, that isn't entirely a bad thing. Because now i can try out for this:
I think this blog needs happier posts. All the lugubrious reflections on things which induce self-abhorrence is so not befitting for my sunshine blog. Plus, my mood is very much uplifted seeing that a certain someone seems to be holding up pretty well. =D
Classes start next Monday. That leaves a mere 4 days for me to laze around, watch tv all day, binge on junkfood and literally be an obese version of the worst kind of parasite. Boo!
I hate going to classes. I hate learning new things. I hate those motivational quotes which tell people learning is a lifelong process which can give people super powers to conquer the world. Or some shit like that. Besides, i'd forget everything i learned after the exam, so what's the point.
Okay, maybe it's not so much of the learning new things that i dislike. I'm just not too fond of learning things which i'm supposed to learn. In this case, accounting, the mother of all bitches. But i like discovering useless facts such as the first ever condoms were made of linen and the infamous Casanova actually used the linen condoms. Considering the fact that linen is highly absorbent and linen threads can be easily broken by constant creasing in the same place, i think Casanova is quite lucky they didn't have DNA testing back then.
I also learnt about DIEP, deep inferior epigastric perforator, which is a breast reconstruction surgery for survivors of breast cancer who had undergone masectomy. This procedure basically involves taking the fat and skin from the abdominal area and transferring them to the chest, creating a new breast to replace the one lost. Compared to conventional silicone implants, DIEP gives the added bonus of having a new breast which looks and feel real and eliminates the risk of silicone leakage.
Suddenly breast cancer doesn't seem like something to be mourned anymore. With this technology, getting breast cancer also means getting new, perky (as opposed to saggy), probably bigger boobs and a flat tummy.
My sick mind actually came up with an advantage that comes with breast cancer.
For people who yearn for washboard abs but is too much of a cur to get a tummy tuck, breast cancer serves as a driving force to give them that little push which they need to undergo an abminoplasty. And since that little push comes in the form of get-the-surgery-or-die, all these people would finally be able to live their dreams of having flat tummies.
Isn't this just wonderful. =D
I feel something inside of me. I don't really know how to describe it. Like a dull, throbbing pain coupled with a sense of hollowness which i imagine someone who's trapped in a very deep, dark hole would feel. Traces of fear surfaces now and then, ever so slightly. It makes it a little difficult to breathe. And its keeping me awake at 4am.
The little voice of conscience in my head is harsh and unforgiving. It's telling me that i'm a horrible person. Deep inside, i know it speaks the truth.
I'm sorry i didn't make an effort.
I'm sorry i was never there.
At this moment, I pray that you are not alone.
Betrayal has never felt so real.
Tonight was a lesson learnt with revolting perfection.
Potatopig may have given me a headstart into learning how to trust.
But fear is a much stronger emotion.
I wonder if i can look at men the same way again.
What's for sure, a stigma over certain types of men has already been created and planted firmly in my mind.
Because trust is an extremely fragile thing.
I apparently deleted the old blog because i felt like i needed a change to reflect my new state of mind, which involves more openness towards happy things and more trust in other people.
(I still don't trust doctors though. I just know one of them will screw up and transfuse AIDS infected blood into me.)
But this whole resolution to be more trusting isn't going so well as evident by the nagging thoughts i have about my neighbour trying to put a curse on my house and the people in it. The reason i think that is because between our houses there's a low wall. And my neighbour has placed a bottle of water on that wall. Normally it wouldn't be much reason for concern but in this case its different. I'm certain that they intentionally left the bottle of water there because a few months back it was a different bottle. Now they had replaced it with a new bottle, placed on the same spot. Meaning, these people had deliberately placed the bottle there for some reason. And i suspect its for some black magic purposes.
My suspicion is not baseless. Currently all the residents in this house is sick and can't seem to recover. And few days ago i developed a bruise on my face for no apparent reason and up till now its still not healed. Thus, i've concluded that it's either the black magic working its mojo or i have contracted AIDS, since AIDS patients bruise like a peach and their bruises take a long time to heal.
Oh well, I shall wait and see what happens next. Should give people the benefit of doubt since i resolved to be Fatty the simpleton who doesn't think negatively of other people without solid proof.
I think the force of Potatopiggism has turned me into a mellow pile of mush. (For those who don't get what Potatopiggism is, i can't help you. ) I watched Desperate Housewives today and cried when Lynette killed an opossum. Well, i didn't get all teary because of the creature. I don't even like animals. It was more of the revelation that a destructive decision made when one is filled with pent up frustration about the perceived injustice done unto oneself could turn out to be the source of great remorse later when one realises that one has been showered with too much love and kindness to demand redemption for the unfairness which would then seem so trivial.
Lynette had killed the opossum in the midst of anger and frustration which had been brought upon by her cancer. At that time, the opossum was perceived as a threat, just like her illness thus, she had to destroy it. However, later on when her doctor told her that she had fully recovered, she was relieved. And in the calmness of that relief, she cried for the opossum because she realised that while she had been given another chance to live, another creature had lost its life because of her.
There are times when i get mad at another person for something which that person has done, and in the course of that anger i would say or do things which i would go on to truly regret someday later. Especially when i stumble upon deeper realisation on all the good things which that person has done for me. It makes me feel so small for getting angry in the first place, over things which seem so little when compared to the kindness i have been given.
Lately, i can get extremely sensitive towards the things Potatopig say or do, in which indignation would bring about not-so-positive thoughts on how to handle the situation or how to relieve myself of such indignation. Yet, i would be reminded of the times when Potatopig would cover me up with a big, comfy blanket after i've fallen asleep, the times when he would eat dinner in the car just because i didn't want to get out of the car since doing so would mean i have to take a shower again when i get home because my face has been exposed to filthy air, the times when he would wake up at odd hours of the night to make sure i was still breathing, the times he got me doughnuts, banana pies and pretty chocolates, the times when he would pick places to eat which contain the types of food that i would eat, the time he cleaned his room and washed the bathroom so that i, with my OCD about germs, would be more comfortable, the time he came over at 3am because i was afraid of a nightmare i had about dogs, and the times i would be forgiven even though i refuse to apologise for my wrongs. These gestures may seem so subtle yet, to me, they are profoundly generous. And with that, my indignation and extreme sensitivity suddenly seem quite baseless.
Live and let live.
Sometimes, we should cut other people some slack.
Sometimes, we should learn to forgive.
Sometimes, when anger strikes, we should remain silent and do nothing until we've had the chance to think things through calmly.
Sometimes, regret lasts a lifetime.
I shall remind myself of Lynette and the opossum.
Today marks the 2nd day of the semester holiday and i'm doing absolutely nothing. I'm not bored though. There are lots of things that i could and should get done. I can iron all da clothes in my wardrobe, try baking a cake or two, sort out last semester's books and notes to decide which to keep and which to throw out, learn more chinese characters, download more songs, shop for shoes, shop for belated birthday gifts and clean my room. But no, i like doing nothing. I am enjoying the ability to just stare into space for hours, watch mindless tv shows while bingeing on peanut butter sandwiches and browse through online boutiques looking at clothes which i don't intend to purchase while bingeing on chocolates. Boredom, for me, at this point in life, is a luxury.
I like my new blog layout. It gives me a cheery, springy, sunshine-and-hearts kind of feeling. I think that's what i need; a break from too much scepticism which the old FattyMeow used to have. Too much scepticism translates into too little trust. And you can't love if you can't trust. I think those happy people who are always so upbeat and chirpy and optimistic are more trusting towards mankind and the humanity that its supposed to have. I want to be one of those happy people but not in the expense of getting myself stabbed to death or pushed of a really high cliff or poisoned then placed into a big metal chest and drowned when im not looking, metaphorically speaking. (Do i not have unique metaphors?)
However, having trust in other people isn't exactly the easiest thing to do after years of dubiety and mistrust has been hardwired into your brain. My first instict is usually to wonder what the other person's ulterior motive is when they are nice to me. People believe other people would do unto them what they would do to other people. So i guess that just makes me evil in theory.
But i'm different (i hope). In a way that i'm level headed enough, (I said "enough" so stop snorting) to know how evil people think and use that knowledge to avoid falling into their malicious traps and avoid turning into one of them. Most of the time, at least.
Then again, there are people whom i have had the fortunateness to meet, who has help eased this transition. Like my darling Yuan, my self-proclaimed brother Khai Lip, the apek Mr. Wong who endlessly humour me with his sarcastic mockery of myself, Marc who is never there when i need entertainment and the very sweet kong kong. And of course Potatopig, who can be credited (or blamed) for most of the changes i've undergone.
Part of the reason which had contributed to my willingness to reduce my hardcore scepticism and be a happy, trusting simpleton is because I believe that the powers that be has been very, very kind to me. I used to question the existence of a higher, supernatural power which help people get through life and in a way, determine the course of it depending on a person's good or bad deeds. But now, i believe there is.
It is this force which had assisted me through life. Whenever i make a random decision, somehow, it'll always turn out for the best.
When i daydream while driving, somehow, i'd always manage to snap out of my reverie just in time to hit the brakes before crashing into the car in front or a wall or a person.
When i make less than wise decisions, somehow i'd always be able to avoid the worst consequences.
And whenever i'm in need, somehow, someone would always appear to lend a hand, be it acquaintances or strangers.
This same force has also crossed my path with the people mentioned above which have made me regain some naivety and trust in the innate goodness of man, an element needed for a person to be truly happy.
For that, i am thankful.
To discredit the idea that there may be a higher power which has vigilantly protected me all this time would be unacceptably ungrateful. Hence, i believe.