on this and that

on detoxification and dieting

i survived the detoxification stint, with the last two days on the chart hanging in limbo somewhere, tempted the entire way by co-conspirators of the devil with local delicacies, thick argentinian steaks, good wine and multi-course dinners. the funny thing about asians is celebrations are always marked by eating, eating and more eating. so is death, if you think about it and any other occasion between the two. sunday's dinner was supposed to be in celebration of my little nephew's birthday but everybody was so busy stuffing their faces that i did not even glimpse the cream on the elusive cake nor raise glasses in toast of his smoke screen celebration.


the question most want to know is so, did the detoxification work? in terms of cleaning my entire 30 feet of intestines, i think it was very successful, judging from my new-found closeness with the bathroom . the cons, however, come when you stuff your face silly with food again after leaving your stomach slightly hungrier than normal for so many days. the feeling's almost akin to rolling in mud after taking a nice rose-smelling bubble bath. the stomach wants to throw its contents out and you're just so tempted to step over the line to the bulimic dark side. but food, glorious food, i shall not forsaken ye. by the way, detoxification leads to unstability in the mind, or was that already there previously?


on pride and peculiarity

on sunday, the little ones were invited to their friend's birthday party at the little birthday boy's home. i don't know the parents very well, aside from the usual nodding and hellos goodbyes at the gate of the school every now and then. being the very gracious hosts that they were, they invited us in and gave us a personal tour of their house, every .....single..... inch of the newly-constructed abode, which i must add is really quite nice. the ackward thing, perhaps only on my own part, was the sudden transition from not even knowing their names to knowing what colour towels they use, what bedsheet they sleep on and even what they do in their jacuzzi bath. urgh! a little information overload at such a short time frame, don't you think? i think people do that all the time, showing off their pride and the labour of their sweat. heck, i do that too when i see friends' eyes glaze over with that curious nosy stare when they come over. but i've seen way too much and i still don't know their last names.

i'm just letting out a sigh of relief at not having to see the condoms that were lying around the bedside. or maybe i just wasn't looking hard enough?!


on relationship and reality

was reading a book that claims many relationships are formed from a common source of interest. amusing, considering that the man is as different from me as night and day, coal and snow (him being the coal, of course). suffice to say, we have nothing much in common, except from the single fact that we both agree i am wonderful (kakaka). the list can go on and on about how different he is from me, from taste to lifestyle, behaviour, personality and interest. still, we have made it thus far and the diverse poles of our being does not seem to come into friction very often, except perhaps for when he wakes me up every morning with his very noisy routines i feel a little like smothering him with my pillow (ok, i jest). textbook theories are not always holy gospel and reality often brings pleasant surprises, as long as you keep an open mind. a relationship is how the partners make it.


on procrastination and passivity

i have a set of keys which i keep on a u-shaped key chain, with a ball on one end and a mickey's glove on the other. a simplistic piece of beauty which i immediately like when i laid eyes on it. then again, i'm so fickle with materialistic things, it's only a matter of time before i grow tiresome of it. in my bag, the little ball rubs against other things and over time, it loosens to the point where it comes off. always when i'm in a rush and always at the worst possible moments. once undone, the keys will fly out to every possible corner on the floor and so it lies whilst i grumble and curse putting them back in, one at a time. each and every time, i swear it will be the very last i'm using the key-chain. i'm staring at it now as it is still sitting innocently on the table, that wicked devilish piece of contraption, which is probably laughing mockingly at me inside. it doesn't take me 2 minutes to change it. it doesn't take me 2 seconds to apply some glue into the ball end of the chain. still, i do nothing. sometimes, i wonder at this person i call myself and wonder how my mind works. is it simply procrastination or is it attachment, i do not know. or do i revel in chaos?


on phobias and perturb

there is so much i fear, from the scampering cockroaches to losing loved ones. experts say that to get over your phobias, you have to face them. i say crap. there is no way i will stand still while you bring a cockroach, with its little legs flinging everywhere so disgustingly, within 100metres of me nor do i see any need to. what exactly would overcoming my fear of cockroaches do for me and my bright future? zilch. except to save the ears of cockroaches (yes, i know they do not have ears) from being deafened each and every time they see me.

but i'm going hot air ballooning. soon. too soon for my comfort now. i'm absolutely terrified, petrified, terrorised and cowed of heights. i don't quite mind being immobilised by the prospect of heights because that means at the very least my legs would be glued onto the floor. i tend to sway. damn! talking about heights make me want to crouch down on the floor and get as low to ground as i can. again, i don't understand my motives, probably stemming from the need to experience everything at least once in my lifetime. i went into the planning, booking, arranging with such gusto when i suddenly realised, shit! what am i doing? i'm going to be flying soooo high up. my question now is can i squat in a hot-air balloon? must remember to use the bathroom before i jump into the balloon, lest there is a unplanned 'accident' from between my legs when they start to shiver and shake.

if i go m.i.a, you can imagine me screaming for escape from high up in the sky. if i go m.i.a. for an extended span of time, please think of me fondly in your memories.