Homework's DRAINING Me!

Some people can be the blindest and most guilt-free assholes in the world. It makes me sad :(

School's been terribly hectic, which I hope explains the sorry state of my blog. There's never time for anything these days, except homework, research and more homework. The weekends are a blessing that never seem to last. Because seeing as to how time just zips past me these days, the Sundays come and go, leaving the MONDAYS in their dust-trails. Still, the weekends now are no more like the weekends then.

Homework, research, homework, f*ckin research! ARGH!

After spending a few hours in the company of Zen Jie and Hannah last Saturday, I came back home feeling nastily guilty about being away from my books for so long! When in fact, I should have been revelling in the joy of having met my favourite debaters together again after so long. The guilt should have been felt had I not made that trip to Secret Recipe.

Proof that I suck.

I wish I never crossed over to the life of an Upper Sixer. Lower Six life was so fun, but the pressure's setting in now. However, there's just so much to do, what with co-curriculum and all, that I can't give my studies as much time as I want to. But then again, co-curriculum is probably the only thing that's keeping me sane; being with my friends outside class. Just the other day, Rowie, Shaheena, Kugi, Azlin, Sharleen, Joel and I were in the school canteen with our lunch from Esso, and damn, it felt like last year again. It had been so long since we last had the chance to sit back together and laugh at the smallest things, without having something to rush off for.

It felt good, I swear. And apparently I don't laugh, but I giggle. I'm working on repairing that flaw. Hmm.

Other than the time-consuming pain that is school these days, all is well. *grin*

I have something that distracts me from all the negativity in my own head. *grin grin grinnn*

I'm so happyyyyyyyyyyyyy :))))))))))))))))))))

A Siggle?

The need to heave a heavy sigh and the itch to let out a burst of giggles does not go hand in hand.

Not at the same time.

Ahhh :)

Off My Chest

I spent a considerable amount of time trying to get the right words out to start off this post, but the more I tried, the more pretentious, fake and baseless it felt. And since this is something that’s coming from someplace deep in my heart, the last thing I want this post to come across as is shallow.

Self-reflection didn’t do me much good yesterday, in the sense that the wrongs that I’ve done overshadowed whatever I think happened right. I owe a lot of people apologies. People I’ve known for long, people I’ve considered my best friends, someone who was a very good friend, a good person, and someone whom I never knew well enough, but went ahead anyway with the biased and prejudiced opinions about her. A couple who still love me after I’ve disappointed them countless of times. And maybe some others will come up as I keep writing.

To Amanda Anne Felix.
I was terrible to you. I was a bitch. I let a boy get in between our friendship of 6 years. A boy who was not worth the misery and the pain that comes with breaking up all sorts of communication and acknowledgement between two best friends. I was a bitch to have hated you for it, I was a bitch to have held a grudge against you for it, and I was a bitch to have suspected you at first when we attempted mending the friendship.

I was a bitch to have let a boy whom I always knew was never right for me, to be able to tear us apart. Jealousy ruins the best of things, and we were both victims. I lost a great friend, a confidante, a trustee. But I got her back.

Once again, I hate myself for not being the first to have come to my senses, and to have made the first move to initiate the repair of our relationship. When I feel I was in the wrong. I was stupid, and there is no way to deny that.

Was he even worth all of the negativity between us for that long 3-month period? NO.

I am so glad, so thankful, that that stint apart from each other (in every sense of the word) has only made us stronger. Wiser about friendship, we know what not to sacrifice in the name of stupid puppy love.

There certainly was truth as great as the universe when it was said that boyfriends come and go, but best friends are forever. Tell me what we haven’t been through together, since the age of 11. Ups and downs. A “down” that lasted months.

Look where we are now.

I love you.

Juanita Ramayah
I was a bitch.

You were a new student at school, and the first thing that hit me when I saw you was how nice you looked. “Nice” in terms of your personality.

But I never got to find that out for real, did I? For reasons pretty much unclear to me, you and A had issues with each other. And for the sole reason that A and I were friends, and we in the same clique (how I hate the word now), I found I hated you too.

I was a bitch to have held something against you, when your actions were not for me to judge. Who was I to participate in trash talk, when I was absolutely nobody to judge anyone? It seemed like everything you did came under great scrutiny; I’m sorry that I was one of those foul-mouthed.

I knew nothing about you; the little bit I did came not from you; and there are always two sides to a story. I am sorry if your last year at high school, your first at ours, was made rough. I do not know how affected you may have been, but in order to get my conscience clear, I apologise for whatever rude comments I have passed about you; many of which were without logical basis. If you had a problem with anyone, no matter what they’re relationship status with me, it should have been of no need for me to butt in and have my say. Especially not behind your back.

I’m so very sorry for my part in this unfair play.

Saravanen Marimuthu
I was a bitch, of the highest degree.

All your trust in me, I just chucked aside and went on doing everything my instinct was against. I wonder if you have noticed that I can never hold your gaze for long whenever we’re in a conversation, ever since that time? The guilt envelopes me, and I recall the last time I could look at you without flinching inwardly at the memory; prom.

You were the best. And I ruined it. I am so sorry for hurting you the way I know I did. I know we’re past all that now, I hope you’ve forgiven me. And I hope nothing like “us” happens to you again. I was a jinx.

You did not deserve that treatment. And I got what I deserved for putting you through that. The slap that I received after that was two times as hard, as very well asked for.

Because, like I said, you were the best. I never truly did any better.

I wish you well, always :)

Sofia Amira
I could not sleep last night without bursting into sudden convulsions, and then tears, when I thought about where we were before and where we are now. I do not know what has happened, but compared to before, it feels like we’re worlds apart now. I have never cried that much over a friend before.

And that really does feel terrible, because you were one of my best-est friends, ever. I could never keep anything away from you, you know you’re one of the very few people who know the exact events that took place in my life, almost like from A to Z. My little diary.

When you first came to our school, you brought tales of life abroad; in that way, you opened my mind, broadened my horizons on so many issues. If there’s any ounce of confidence I have when I speak to people, you should know that you helped me gain that. It was how you carried yourself, your mentality that was way up there, in comparison to mine, that brought me out of my own way. And God knows I owe you the world for all that.

But now it feels like we’re growing apart. The less we speak, the more agitated I become. I know I have not been the greatest at keeping in touch, but I will not make excuses for myself. Not now. I read that one text you sent me once, about how friends slowly lose contact with one another. First, because they do not intend to “disturb” the other. Then, it becomes, “Let them text first”. In the end, hate is what’s left.

How many times have I picked up the phone to dial your number, only to hang up even before the first ring, not wanting to intrude? I do not want the people in your SMS to be us. Because you have no idea how much I treasure you and your friendship.

You’ve shared my joy, you’ve helped me lift my burdens. You’ve talked me into sense, and out of being trampled on and used. You have had my every trust, and it suffices to say that your presence always put a smile (if not barrels of laughter) on my face.

College and Form 6. Are those the reasons behind this distance I suddenly feel? The emptiness?

I could call you now, but I’m too much of a coward. What, and how, do I say all that I want to say to you?

I love you to bits. The tears helped me realize that fact.

Amma and Acha
My parents. I do not know where to begin.

For everything, every time I’ve betrayed your trust in me, every time I’ve embarrassed you, every time I’ve made you cry. The worst sin of the worst kind is making one’s own mother and father cry. You’ve never shown me your tears, but I know enough. And I also know enough to promise you that never again will I do anything for you to question your upbringing of me.

I have disappointed the both of you many a time, but still, you carry me with pride on your shoulders. And I will too, when the day comes for me to show you how indebted and grateful I am to have been a part of this family.

I love you so so so so SO much. No matter the differences in opinions and years and ideas. No matter the number of yellings I’ve received and deserved. I love you.

I HATE YOU, CHEMISTRY.

DD

The Danish Donut has made a return.

It's haunting.

1964

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOMMA!

*a grand shower of confetti*

Here’s to many many more happy years ahead of you, peppered with comments from various sources about the "youth" in your features, despite already hitting the 5th year after 40! (Something you're tremendously proud of!)

And once again, here's to being born on the last day of the last month of the year! Just a day later, and you'd have been the oldest in every one of your classes when you were studying, year after year. As it turned out to be, forever the youngest. :)

Love you, amma.

ps. 45 years ago, at this time, you'd have been tiny!

Unreceived

How do you forgive someone who hasn't asked for an apology?

Thus, you are not forgiven.

Even if you did say you're sorry, you will not be fully forgiven for letting things reach this horrid place.

:)

Eighteen

17th December 2009

8pm
Divanesh texts me, and as the SMS conversation flows, he nonchanantly asks about my plans for the next day. It wasn't the fact that he was asking that held a teeny-weeny element of suspicion for me, but the detail with which he was asking. It was a lighter version of what Amanda was trying to do earlier that day; she was forcing details about the next day out of me:

"Will you be going anywhere? What time will you be waking up? What time do you usually go to the temple on your birthday? How long do you spend there?"

Such interrogation. Divanesh's questions weren't as drilling as that. Just a little "So I suppose you'll be a good girl and daughter and go to the temple, eh? What time does that mean you'll have to wake up?"


So I tell him what I had just gathered from my father. I'll be waking up at 6.45am the next day, to hit the temple early. Our conversation ends there.


11.10pm
Shaheena sends me a text, saying only two words: "50 minutes!"


11.20pm
The telephone rings. My sister picks it up and starts speaking sotto voce. Mum's temper shows signs of flaring when she hisses, "Who's calling her at this time of the night?" I shrugged, feeling bad for my sister. A few minutes later, after hanging up the phone, my sister beckons mum over, and they go to the back of the house to speak. When they return, I ask them what their "secret" conversation was about, and the both of them tell me about some Christmas dinner my sister was invited to. Case closed.


11.45pm
I was in my parents' bedroom with my sister, sprawled on the bed, watching TV. Mum was sleeping off on the comforter on the floor, while Dad was working on the computer just outside the room. Yes, my sister and I were sleeping with our parents, as they requested...for the big day ahead.


I checked the time, grinned slyly, and fixed my innocent eyes on the back of my sister's head. I inched closer to her, and threw one leg over her unassuming body. I hugged her close and tight, and whispered, "15 more minutes. I hope you've got my present ready."


She turned around, looked at me with eyes as huge as turkey eggs, and squealed, "Lemme goooo!!"


11.58pm
Dad bangs into the room, and rushes over to shake Mum awake. At that very moment, my cellphone vibrates. One glance at the screen tells me that Dinesh is the caller. If it was any other day that I was in the same room with my parents and my phone rings at that hour, I'd not pick up. But considering what day it was, I pressed the green button on the phone to speak to him, while Mum and Dad speak in hushed tones, with my sister watching all three of us.


I go out of the room to speak to Din. He starts off with the usual, "Hey Pav! How are you?", to which I reply, "I'm fine, I'm fine, how are you?" Then he asks what I'm doing. So I decide to cut to the chase.


"Isn't there something you're supposed to say to me, Din?", I grin. He pauses, to check the time I assume, because he says, "It's not time yet, Pav. It's only 11.59." Fine by me.



18th December 2009


12am
Dinesh yells into the phone, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PAV!!!!"


Then he tells me he called before the 12am mark, so that I wouldn't be on the line with anyone else, thus clearing the way for him to be the first to greet me. Well, plan worked, didn't it? :)While I laugh with him, and squeal about finally turning 18, and talk about whatever that's going on in our lives up to that point, I find I have another call waiting. A call from Phav. Still unsure about how to deal with these calls-in-waiting, I continue listening to what Din had to say about his new job.


Then Dad approaches me, and says, "Come here", pointing towards the master bedroom. I hurriedly say goodbye to Din, he bids me goodnight, and then I "casually" trot after my dad back into the room. My phone starts vibrating, but I ignore it for the time being.


12.02am
Mum and Dad envelope me in huge bear-hugs, while my sister looks for an opening where she can slide in and take her place in the group hug. Dad bends over, and from a little paper bag, conjures a small pouch, within which was a tiny red box. My first birthday gift: A gold anklet from my parents. The type that I like; thin and subtle, with a tiny bell at the end of it.


Mum could not stop saying things like, "You're 18, darling. 18 years ago, at this time, I'd be having my contractions!"


My phone continues vibrating, and Mum sighs. She's never liked my tendencies to be hooked to the little contraption. Dad asks me which friend of mine beat them to be the first to give me my greetings. When I told them it was Dinesh, Dad suspiciously went "Ooooh", and gave a small whistle, while Momma was all, "Who? Who's Dinesh?"


Geez.


12.05am
After replying texts from Kugi, Shaheena (who had been consistently counting down the hours, then the minutes to the moment I turn 18), ChayF and some others, I call Phav back. A lot of high-pitched squeals erupt spontaneously, not to mention giggles. Again, I laugh, joke, laugh some more, yak yak yak. I love the girl.


I return to the room after the call, to the suddenly-stiff figure that is my sister.


I give her an angelic smile, and ask politely for my gift. She hides her face in the pillow. Mum tries to rescue her, by saying Keera contributed to the anklet that I was now wearing. Judging by the reaction of my sister, I knew it was a lie.


12.15am
Kept sending out "thank you" messages to those who had remembered, while still trying to coerce my sister into getting me something.


"I can't believe this, Keerthana... This is my 18th birthday, and you didn't get me anything? You really didn't? Aww come on, I'm sure you did! What, you seriously didn't...? But I'm 18 today! How could you not have got me anything...? I bought you those earrings for your birthday, and you never wear them... You could at least have made me a birthday card, I really would have liked that!!"


And it went on that way, till I decided I'd said enough, and let the disturbed girl sleep peacefully without having to deal my nudges in her ribs. Haha.

12.28am
My phone starts vibrating again. This time, it's Rowie! I pick up her call, and she sings the mangled version of "Happy Birthday". I really hope I don't truly don't smell like a monkey! I crawled out of the room, when Rowie asked why I was speaking so politely. How to speak like I always do (at the top of my voice) when my parents are in the room, no? So I shut the door behind me, and stepped into the privacy of my own room.

I then accuse the girl of being more than 20 minutes late in greeting me. 20 minutes! So she embarks on her tale of how she waited for the time display on the PC to read 12am. But at 12.01am, when she checked, it didn't strike her that it was my birthday already. So she continued with her duties on MSN and Facebook faithfully, when finally it hits her that she'd forgotten to greet me.

And so we talk. Exchange stories. The colours that fill our lives. The dark and the bright.

A while later, out of the generosity of her heart, she allowed me to hit the sack. "I'll leave you to your family-time," she said. I miss you, Rowie, I wouldn't have minded speaking to you through the night if phone bills had no significance!

Shortly after I climb back into bed, Albert's SMS comes in. Perfect timing, genius. Haha.


6.45am
Dad woke me up. Time to get ready for the temple! Donned a Punjabi suit, put on my new jimmki's from Singapore. They're the typical Indian earrings that look like mini umbrellas. Mine are colourful! Pretty!


8.30am
Dad and I get home from the temple.


8.35am
The whole family gets ready for breakfast like any other day. The same old Gardenia, butter, Nutella, cereal, and milk sat on the table. And we jumped into the first meal of the day like vultures.


8.45am
The home phone rings, and since Mum's sitting the closest to it, she picks up. When she hears who it is on the line, her voice goes up an octave as she says, "Yes, of course!" She gets up from the table, to the clueless gaze of my father, sister and I. She walks to the kitchen, the phone still glued to her ear. Dad and I look at each other and shrug it off. My sister stares at the back of Mum's profile.


Mum walks back to us, and places the cordless back on the whatever-you-call-it, and struts to the door to look outside. When I ask her who that was on the phone, she mutters something about the gardener, while she and my sister exchange a look of glee.


My mother speaking to the gardener the way she did on the phone? Yeah, sure.


From my seat at the dining table, I have a decent view of the road outside. I saw 3 heads walking towards my front gate. My mum noticed too, and she made a dash for the door, and welcomed those 3 who had just arrived. My sister's grin, at the table, was too wide for it to be innocent. I strode to the door, looked over my mother's shoulder, and what I saw made my jaw drop to the bottom of the universe.


Amanda, Divanesh and Pauline, walking through the front gate of my house, without letting me know they were coming!


I ran out, in my old shorts and older Tee, and together, all of us screamed. After exchanging hugs and whatever not, I led them into the house, still in a bit of a daze. Mind you, my right hand was still gripping quarter of a slice of bread.


I heard the whole story, before I could gather my senses well enough to figure out what had happened myself. Manda had tried calling my home phone many times the day before, for a chance to speak to any one of my family members (excluding me, of course!), to get permission to come over and also to ask about the family's plans. However, to her utter dismay, it was I who kept running to the phone; so she kept hanging up, which made me angry. (This is where a caller ID comes in handy people. Too bad I don't have one.)


It was she who called the previous night at 11, when my sister picked up. The Xmas dinner gathering that I was told about was just bull, an attempt to keep me in the dark. Worked, anyway! Then there was also the case of Divanesh texting me. Like I expected, he was trying to get information out of me!


Whether or not I had cooperated, they managed to plan things out, and give me a shocker! :)


I got cupcakes from Cupcake Chic, a fancy belt from Manda, and earrings from Divanesh! Ahhh! Me loves!


The four of us went out for breakfast together in Old Town. Fooled around, spoke without caring to lower our volumes for the benefit of the other customers, and in the end, fought over the bill. I felt obliged to pay for what we ate, being the birthday girl and all. But they wouldn't give in without a fight.


Divanesh : PAV! You're the birthday girl! Don't pay!

Me: I'M THE BIRTHDAY GIRL, I MUST PAY!

Diva: Manda, hold her! Take her outside!

Me: Shut up!


I end up paying for half, while Diva paid the other. Of course, they tried forcing a RM10 note into my tightly-clenched fists, buttttttttt to no avail.


Then they left, after another round of super-tight hugs.


Great start to the day. :)


Noon.
Lunch at home with ze familia, much to my sister's distress. She demands to know why we were breaking away from tradition and eating in on a birthday. I cruelly tell her that's what she gets for not getting me a gift! Mwahahahahaha :D


4.40pm
We all leave home; my parents and sister, to drop me off at tuition in USJ. I know what you're thinking, that only a sad and irrevocably boring girl would attend extra classes on her birthday, on a holiday, nevertheless! But hey, I'd need to get some knowledge into my head at some point of this 2-month long holiday, right?

On the drive to the teacher's house, Azlin sends me a text to ask for my coordinates. I realise that I'm a minute late for class, and tell her that I'm just around the corner. I really was!

5.05pm
I walk through the front gate of the tuition teacher's house, and I see Shaheena walking out to embrace me, which took me by surprise. I squeeze her right back, and after a kiss on the cheek, she wishes me a happy birthday again. As we walk into the house, I ask if class hadn't already started. That's when I notice that the teacher, Ms.Elizabeth, in the living room. Then I register Kugi and Azlin standing just there too.

With a small cake. You know the teeny-weeny types? Mine had a toy Garfield stuck into the it. Not to mention a solitary candle. I was really taken aback; I was so touched! I only got to make a wish and blow the candle, before the teacher asked for us to get back into class. Haha.

It was later when I saw what Garfield was doing on my cake. It was a representation of who I am! Fat and lazy; just not a cat. Sha, who was the one who purchased the cake, denied buying the Garfield cake with a hidden agenda, instead she claimed that it was the cutest cake in the store! Better than Tweety Bird (I think) and some cartoon. Mmhmmm ;)

7pm
Class ends, and I get into my parents' car. Apparently, after dropping me off in the evening, my sister has insisted on getting me a gift, no matter how many hours late overdue it was. And so, when I join them after class, my sister slides towards me and put a bag in my hands. A blouse! She got me a blouse! I squealed, "You didn't have to get me anything! I was just kidding earlier!!" Which of course, no one in the car bought.

What a sweetie pie Keerthana can be. Gotta give her credit when it's due. :)

8.15pm
In my room, I busied myself with getting ready for dinner, and also with picking my earrings for the night, from the four pairs that Divanesh got me. Then my sister barges in, with the telephone held out in front of her. "It's Zen Jie!" she exclaims.

I jump up real high and grab the phone from her hands. And there he was, on the other end, sounding every bit an Australian as he did before. He sang me one line of "Happy Birthday" before we started laughing. And after that, it was mostly us discussing his return to Malaysia and the house opposite mine, STPM, our futures, his talents, etc etc.

Then, just as I was telling him about my day, Dad called out to me. Dinner-time. I really didn't want to, but I had to bid Zenj adieu. He whined, but the jerk could have considered calling at a time when I wouldn't be in the midst of rushing for dinner! Though, granted, he was at some farewell party, and he'd called when he got back.

Which was really very sweet of him. I miss you, buster!

The rest of the night
Following a scrumptious dinner, we headed over to my uncle's crib. Spent around an hour there, and I felt Mum's curious eyes watching me every now and then as I texted myself out of the boredom. One reason I never leave my phone unattended is because I don't like the idea of my mother rummaging through the messages contained in there; I've learnt from experience that the curiosity of mothers is rarely ever satiated.

*****

And so the day ended. It wasn't a big day in the way that many people would expect it to have been, with a whole lot of partying and booze. Sure, I've turned 18 finally, and that officially makes me an adult. I should be allowed to do a whole host of things I wouldn't have had access to even a day before my 18th birthday. But just because the law allowes me to go berserk in clubs and what not, doesn't necessarily mean I want to.

That's one thing many people don't seem to get. People whose lives revolve around late nights with a bottle in their hands. They throw me funny looks when I say I'm not interested in socializing, if our definition of the word is worlds apart.

I enjoyed how my birthday was spent, thank you very much, with my family and friends. I am blessed. :)

Though I felt the pinch when a couple of people dear to me didn't acknowledge my "big day". Heh.

The Saree, and the Rest of December

*flexes fingers*
*tests the flow of words tentatively*

SET!

It's been so long since I last squeezed a proper post out of myself, that it feels so welcoming to be back, if not a little nerve-wracking; the latter because I know I've lost the ability to write with the confidence of before, and with it, whatever little vocabulary and... I can't find the word. Go figure.

We're hurtling towards the end of the one-month-and-half holidays, and I have accomplished nothing, nothing, where school obligations are concerned. And I don't want to even begin stating down all that I haven't done; the list might go on for too long to hold anyone's interest. Including mine.

So I'll tell you most of what I did. You know, for those who may be interested in the slightest. I've got the events numbered, just so you get to skip whatever it is you wish to. :)

1. On the 29th of November, my Aunt Aarathi's wedding took place at the temple at the foot of the Batu Caves. But that's none of the two interesting parts; it's just the backdrop. *grin* I played the role of a bridesmaid. In a traditional Indian wedding, that means the other bridesmaids and I had to "escort" the bride and the groom to the altar, at different intervals, carrying little oil lamps on little trays.

But the part that got me in a frenzy weeks before the wedding itself was the idea of me doing all that in a SAREE! I had never been dressed in a saree prior to that; the closest I got to donning a saree was when Rowie draped a dusty curtain around me. And that probably looked more like a toga than anything else.

And so I practised at home, a few days before the big day. Walked up and down in one of my mum's sarees. Tried to "kick and walk", the way my grandma and Rowie kept reminding me to. As a result, I was victimised by my father who said casually, "You don't have the poise and elegance that you need to carry a saree well. You're more of a trouser-wearing girl." Yeah, that sure went a far way to encourage me!

So anyway, I managed to keep both feet firmly on the ground; my immense nightmare of tripping over the hem of my saree and lighting the place up on fire with my oil lamp did not slap me in the face of reality, you'll be happy to hear! :) The ceremony went on without any glitches, and hey, I saw a cute guy! He was at the dinner reception that night too, wearing a black button-down striped shirt which looked reeeeeeeeal good on him. I was in a black dress, so we were matching! :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

The time when we all went crazy on the dance floor was fantastic. Excluding the little kids, who were getting cranky because of the late hour, everybody was shaking their "thang" to rock music from back in the day. My MJ-obsessed uncle stunned us with some of his moves, and my father, my own PADRE, drew so many eyes with the way he was rockin'! Apparently, they were moves he practised in his 20's. Huh, air guitar?

*gag*

2. December 1st was Dad's 49th birthday. With James' help, my sister and I managed to go to town and get a birthday cake for the old guy. Absolutely no prezzies because we'd lost track of time! One minute we were safely wrapped in the midst of November, and the next, we've hit December. Of course, realising at the last instant that Daddy's birthday was around the corner didn't help... Why did he have to be born on the first day of the month?!

3. The whole family left to Singapore on the 4th! The main reason we went was to attend the wedding of another relative, but we managed to force in a fair amount of sight-seeing for a period of 3 days. We took the KTM there, it was a 6-hour journey, but GOD, I have never had so much fun on a train ride before! When we disembarked at the Singapore station, and as we walked out of the building and onto the road, the thrill of being in a different country seized me and I shook with the mere pleasure of it. Almost like how it felt each time I went to India.

We checked into a hotel on Serangoon Road, and this time, it sure as hell felt like I had accidentally got off the train in India, however impossible that is, instead of in Singapore. You see, this Serangoon Road was primarily an Indian haunt, kinda like the Little India of Klang. And I loved it!

I missed India so very much, while I was in Singapore.

One thing that I loved about Singapore was the speed of things. Not cars, no, but their MRTs. They make our Malaysian LRTs look like a network of painfully-slow-moving millipedes! And their escalators.. WOW. One instant, you're at the head of the moving steps, and two seconds later, you're hopping off it at the other end. The difference between those and their Malaysian counterparts were so tremendous, that upon hitting motherland again, my family and I had to keep from grunting impatiently at the never-ending crawl we were moving at.

Then there's the cleanliness. Nowhere around us, neither in Chinatown, nor anywhere along the Singapore River did we see even a single scrunched up paper ball, lying abandoned. Oh, the river........................................... Tres tantalising!

I wanted so much to visit the famed Orchard Road, but when it came down to us visiting either Orchard or Chinatown, I instantly fell for the latter choice! And I didn't regret it at all. The architechture of the shophouses were so mesmerizing, and I loved the buzz that filled the air. The prices of the various items on sale were reasonable too. Oh, heaven!

Hopped onto a boat ride at Clarke Quay for a little tour, and that's where we experienced the luxury of a clean river. Then we stepped into the mall. My eyes fell a sign in a boutique that read "Skinny Jeans, $15". They came in colours, and I wanted them bad. So I happily skipped into the little store, and got the size that looked appropriate for me. In a bright yellow tone. I dashed into the changing room, dropped the pants I was wearing (hahaha), and tried on the jeans. Or at least, I tried. They didn't fit. And the store was out of stock on jeans a size bigger. I tugged and pulled, and sucked every muscle of my body in, to get the jeans to fit, but NO.

I WAS DEPRESSED. CHAGRINED. ANGRY.

I do not want to talk about skinny jeans for some time, now. Shut up.

4. MY BIRTHDAY WAS ON THE 18TH! But that calls for a post of its own. :)

5. I have BLOGGED!!!!

I'M BACK

....and I really should update about the constant exhiliration that is my life.

Pfft.