My weekend is burnt by the volunteer work I do. This is a good weekend.

1. I helped out at Pelangi Pride Centre, it felt very good knowing so many booklovers in Singapore and they are a bunch of very very nice people. I was in my element, took the initiative to say hi to everyone, remembered all their names and added them on facebook. I should be in PR.

2. Then I drove to Sentosa to meet morbidity80 and his boyfriend who had a suite at Sentosa Resort. We had dinner by the beach, and took a stroll down the beach, passing several bars. And then I wished Nature Boy was here. How nice it would be to hold his hand on this cold, cold day. One day, I'll drive him all over Singapore just to touch all the beaches.

We returned to the hotel to hang out. The hotel, surrounded by only trees and darkness, is Balinese-styled and very quiet , only the crowing of peacocks and peahens. In the morning, the monkeys will vie for breakfast at the complimentary buffet. If you don't have time to travel overseas, you can resort to the Resorts. (And at this point, seeing how dark and quiet and romantic and bucolic the place was, I thought of Nature Boy again, of bringing him here. Today, after telling my sister how great the place is, she said that maybe we should book a room for New Year, but if things go smoothly, maybe my sister and I (+Nature) need separate rooms. However, checking the rates of the hotels, $2000 for 2 nights for 2 rooms! Sorry, Nature Boy, we have to pitch a tent at Pulau Ubin.)

Back to Saturday night after dinner by the beach and returning to the hotel to watch Monsters VS Aliens--which is a very smart animation, with references to E.T., Mars Attack, The Fly, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, etc--I felt like I was intruding on their privacy but Oh well.

1.BBQ last weekend. Over facebook, XH asked if I invited Cynthia. I said, no. I should have said I don't like Cynthia. [Reasons later.]

XH: And did you invite Nick?

Me: No but don't invite him!

XH: Ok, I'll invite him now.

Me: No no no no no! Don't!

Xh: I'm calling him...

Me: NO! There are 6 of us and if he comes, I've to prepare food for 10 people.

2. I dislike Cynthia because she is boring. My sister said, "But you cannot dislike people just because they are boring."

I said, "I don't mind people who are boring but she is boring and yet she thinks she's very interesting. She always has to say something when we finish telling our stories. When we talk, when we WITTY people talk, we have a punch line and our punch line allows someone else to comment so there is actually a conversation. But Cynthia's stories are not funny at all and when she finishes the story, no one laughs, and no one has anything more to add. For her, it's all about 'listen to ME ME ME ME ME!' but for us, we C.O.M.M.U.N.I.C.A.T.E. and share. She is fine as an acquaintance but I won't let her in my inner circle."

3. Had a hot date with Lydia today. Went for a movie preview of "Spread"--2 stars-- then fine-dining at CHALK which overlooks the city. I love the place, a hiatus from the city, within the city. Great, romantic ambiance. Quiet, atop a hill. We shared an entree (Confit of Calamari, divine!), ordered champagne, I had lamb, she had duck, we shared a dessert platter consisting creme brulee, sticky date pudding with butterscotch sauce and ginger ice cream, rhubarb pie with cinnamon ice cream and vanilla pannacotta with blueberries. Lydia knew everyone there and the chef and the pastry chef and the waitress all came to chat with us. Felt so great, knowing people from a decent restaurant as if I was a regular, like in those movies in which a rich guy will know the waiters who reserve a special table for him. And the impressed chef thought that I was a--since it's a French restaurant, let's use a bit of French--bon vivant although I am merely a cormorant. My mother too used to say that I'm the only one in my family who is a gourmand, I should have been a chef.

4. Lydia told me XH's epigram: 不要脸才会长大. You can only grow up when you're shameless. Which is so true. Which is what I've been doing by outing my family secrets, by outing myself to people I meet, and so on. The people who get promoted are those who march up to their bosses and demand for it. The ones who get the person they love are those who actually ask the person out in the first place.

5. At the movie preview, I saw Eric. I'm the shy sort but I'm also not afraid of making my move. However, running into him so suddenly put me in a flustered mood and I couldn't be calm enough to say hi. This is in fact the second time I saw him. The first time: we brushed past each other at a mall but I couldn't recall who he was until he was long gone. Never mind, I'll devise a way to reach out to him.

 

1. Prologue the bookshop deserves nothing less than me wearing my pristine Bally Shoes. speedo28 was SUPER DUPER SWEET. Not only did he give me a 20% discount, he, knowing that I needed $6 to make $60 for some voucher, spent his own money on a useless magazine which he probably wouldn't read to make the sum. He was using his dedication of being a great employee to mask the fact that he is in love with me. Kidding, the truth is he's a very, very nice guy. Sometimes he pretends to be bitchy but only idiots can't see through that facade. I was sick today and couldn't match his playfulness. He was tired at the end of a day. It'll be fun sparring one-liners with him when we're on top form.

2. A Japanese-looking, American-accented late-20s, early-30s boyish man picked me up at Kinokuniya, the rival bookshop of Prologue. I was holding onto many books clumsily and he asked if I was buying them all. Asked if I read a lot. Asked if I was still browsing. Yes, I am. Ok, I'll leave you to your browsing but can we exchange telephone numbers first? Ok, I said, give me yours and I'll call. He's cute, I've his number, but don't think I'll call.

Ray said he never got picked up at "normal," non-gay places.

I said, "Well, if you're cute, you get picked up anywhere." Heh heh heh. In New York, cars often stopped and asked me to hop on - I should tell that story to Ray one day.

3. Was exhausted and sick when I met morbidity80 and Ray. Passed morbidity80 his birthday present, the Nike-Ipod pacer, which was cheaper than I had expected. Went to TWG, "the place to be seen" in the words of Ray, such expensive tea, costing up to $20 a pot- that's insane. The service was both good and bad - good because the staff was courteous and attentive, bad because they didn't know their menu well, didn't know what to recommend, what was available. 

Ray wanted to get the "Midsummer Night's Dream Tea" but after the order was made, the waiter returned 5 minutes later to tell us that the tea was finished and Ray had changed it for something else. I asked Ray and morbidity80 to describe their tea and all they could say was "It tastes Indian."

"What? Jasmine?"

"No, it's just Indian."

"Like chai?"

"No, Indian." What the hell is an Indian taste? These doctors.

My tea is named "Timeless" and tasted like sweet berries. Wanted to order "Sexy" tea or "Love me" tea but thought they sounded too raffish.

We sipped tea as Carrie Underwood shopped in the same mall.

1. Ran into Kim the Air Stewardess at the French Film Fest and, together with Isaac, we watched Water Lilies and The Witnesses. Kim has quit her job, which she hates, and is a lot happier. She has lost some weight but is still very pretty. She remains untainted, as ingenuous as before. She is one of the few people who agree with me when I say, "Nothing--not even money--is more important than happiness." If I were straight, I'd go for her.

2. Badminton twice in two weeks; the second week was with morbidity80 and his boyfriend whom he neglected me for. And oh no no no no no my right buttock aches, which means it is developing muscles, which means my right ass will be bigger than my left. My sister saidmorbidity80 and his boyfriend are very sticky. I replied, "I don't mind, at least they're compatible and the feeling is mutual. You should have seen how morbidity80's ex stuck to him like a leech. It was quite revolting. It was like watching the princess with the golden ball and the toad that never turned into a prince. Bestiality is so not cool. Neither is a hanger-on."

3. My gym has organized a 100km challenge. The participant can only clock in 3km each time, no matter how far she runs for the day, and the first to reach 100km wins. My routine is 3-4 times a week, 30-40minutes each time, 9 to 10km/hr, averaging a distance of 5-6km for each run. AND I NAIVELY THOUGHT I WOULD WIN. But damn those housewives and retirees! They run everyday. Don't they have husbands to poison, children to pack to school, or taiji classes to go?

And so I concede defeat to mothers of three and people three times older than me. Now, housewives and retirees, you can relax, don't need to risk your life. Running can trigger heart attacks. We wouldn't want that --- do we?

4. Trevor is flying back to Singapore from Canada for a holiday. The last time he was back, it was tragic. So I texted morbidity80 andbudderfry, "See! I told you Trev only talks to us [on facebook chat] only when he is coming back. Are you ready for a grueling, irritating faux Canadian accent?"

5. Sis and I treated our cousin, Eugene, to dinner for his 21st. His dad is my uncle who had an affair with an Indonesian prostitute. I have suspected that Eugene is gay because, on Friendster, we have common gay friends, friends who are too old for him to know. He's very sensible but lacks a gay sensibility; he's a geek, doesn't club, doesn't dress up, doesn't know fashion; has nerdy, straight friends; is boring and nice; in other words, he defies all stereotypes of a gay man. After he left, my sister asked if I still thought he is gay. I replied, "If he is, then he needs to be very, very, very successful." This is not said in a mean spirit; I mean it as an observation. He lacks all the natural endowments that would make a gay man love him and women are generally less cruel and may treat him better.

Eugene told me that Samuel, our cousin, is so poor that he has to constantly drink water to sate his hunger; Sam has no money to buy food. I felt so guilty for studying at Starbucks everyday; a drink is as much as Sam's two meals.

We gossiped about Yvette (my ex-mother) too and it seems like everyone hates her. Did I tell you the 150k story? It happened a few years ago. My mother asked my millionaire aunt, "hansel25's grad studies is 150k. Do you have it?" Utter nonsense. I'm on a scholarship. How unforgiveable is that? She was not only making use of me, she was lying to her own sister and I don't even know why she needed so much money. She's evil to the core.

6. I finished reading Ali Smith's Girl Meets Boy for my Queer Book Club this Thursday. I love love love the book. The way it is written, it is beautiful, very poetic. Will update more after the book club. But these lines "screamz me!"

"Anthea, do you really think you'll change the world as single jot by vandalizing public property with slogans? You really think you'll make a single bit of difference to all the unfair things and all the suffering and all the injustice and all the hardship with a few words?"

"Yes," she says.

"Okay," I say.

1. Dashed into the gym's steam room today and their hands hastily withdrew from each other's crotch. I sat down for three seconds, giggled inwardly, wanted to leave immediately without saying anything but thought I should assure them, so I said giggly, "Erm.. you guys go ahead and do whatever you're doing. I'm leaving."

heh heh heh.

2. Last Saturday. Out with XH's friends. First time that I met Nick. We went for dinner. Nick and his girlfriend ordered 4 portions of food (including salad) and after they finished, Nick ate ours! His fork just obtrusively poked into our food without permission; his action was so swift I didn't have time to react. I am fine with people eating MY food, but from the plate to my seat there is an imaginary space and this space is MYspace. His fork invaded and ravished my defense; I felt like being raped. After that, I dared not even look at him in the eyes in case I betrayed my disgust of him.

I told XH that he has an eating disorder and then I realized I have one too. I eat so much that at the end of the day I feel like imploding, so from today on, I'll keep a log of what I eat.When my elder brother was at my current age, he already has high cholesterol and gout. I only ate organic in New York but in Singapore... MY HEALTH! Die, die, die.

3 eggs (240 calories)
Chocolate (910)
2 Old Chang Kee sotong sticks (500)
Hor Fun (600)
Green Tea, 2 cups (0)
Chocolate molten cake (500)
Black pepper chicken steak (400)
Bak Kwa, 1 slice (200)
Ice cream (150)
Diet Coke (0)
Treadmill (-600)
Total: 2900

2900 calories, that isn't too bad - then why do I feel so bloated now?!

Edit: I intend to eat mutton biryani tomorrow and one serving is 1000 calories?! WTH. No wonder Indians have such a high rate of heart diseases.

1.  The new tuition student whom I met for the first time today scored 1/100 for her school essay on Women in Love. After coaching her for the first hour, I realized that she is very slow. Later I learnt from her mother that the child needed special help in primary school. How the hell does she make it to JC (high school, grade 11)?

From how the mother spoke, I detected a hint of--I don't know how to put this delicately--mental retardation. This hint is strongly supported by the fact that their Filipino maid handles the finance, showing how incapable the mother is and how foolishly, naively trusting she is. So the student's mental ability is probably inherited.

What pique me most is that these not-so-bright people are so rich--my tutoring fees are exorbitant--while my very intelligent family is in the slums. Say what I want about my not-mother, she's prodigiously astute. She is ambidextrous; she knows 6 languages (more fluent in some than others); she never loses an argument even though it is always her fault; she never forgets a phone number even if she happens to glance at it only once; she isn't wise but her memory is photographic.  And although I know many, many clever people, including my professors, I must admit my not-mother is on par with them.

My youngest uncle, the criminal who spent the best years of his life in jail, doesn't need to arrange the tiles during mahjong; can memorize them immediately; and spots the winning card at a glance. While chatting, he can memorize the tiles the other players discard so that he knows what tile the players are calling for.

My sister and I conclude that our brilliant brains are made to plan malevolent things - but why can't we plan to rob the bank and get rich!

2. Waited at Alliance Francais to watch The Diving Bell and the Butterfly withmorbidity80 and his boyfriend. Tried contacting him several times but no response. The tickets were with him and after waiting stupidly outside the theatre for 45 minutes, I left. I was worried that something bad might happen to him since he has always been very responsible. Then, just now, he texted me saying he left his phone at home and thought I didn't want to watch. humph. Now that he has his boyfriend, he forgets about me! And to make him feel even worse if and when he reads this entry, I brought him a present. Guilt-tripping is my forte! I learn it from the best, I learn it from my not-mama.
 

1. If you're on my facebook, check out my karaoke videos. They are very funny.

2. I spent some time considering what a date movie is and rejected District 9 (which I want to watch very badly) and Ugly Truth and opted for Time Traveler's Wife to melt Bert Bert's cold cold heart and he sniffled although I didn't like it much. This is our first movie! Then we went back to his place and he told me about his past loves and family background. So much drama.

3. Speaking of drama, my family is brewing some with a series of emails. I am quite detached from it since it has to do with Yvette, my former mother. I do think, however, her sms is very hurting - but that's how she is, abusive psychologically.

4. My married friend called me at 7am on Saturday morning and cried. The man she used to love, who dumped her and dated her friend, came back to her and she was miserable. I asked her to come back to Singapore where I can protect her from this creep. She said the 20s sucks, luckily we are going to be 30. We should hold a valediction party to bid our miserable 20s farewell.

5. Retro pic of the day with my brother. The mottled marble flooring was from my old apartment. I think we kept the bear until we were quite old but I don't remember whose bear it was or if I liked it much. The photo is so retro that the edges are rounded! You can tell how much I craved for attention by my attention seeking pose.
 

1. Harry is posted to Singapore from New York for work and his fiancee, Celest, is coincidentally my schoolmate in New York.

On Monday, she facebook-chatted me and even in the online chat, her anxiety and distress came across very strongly. She suspected that Harry was seeing someone in Singapore and she, being in New York, could not check on him. The lady Harry was allegedly dating is, like us, a teacher specializing in Victorian literature. Celest said it would have been such an irony if Harry leaves her for Teacher; I found this very funny and laughed. She received a piece of secret information--I suspect that Celest hacked into Harry's emails--that Harry and Teacher would go to a Japanese restaurant the next day and asked me to spy on them. She said she invested her entire self into the relationship and felt sure that Harry was keeping things from her, such as telling her that it was a group of people meeting for dinner, instead of merely both of them, and switching off his phone to be uncontactable. Her persistent pleading and piteous pathos made it impossible for me to reject her request.

The next day, Bert and I went on our Mission Impossible. During which, Celest long-distance-telephoned me twice and texted me several times; it was 5am New York time. Her affliction must have been unbearable.

Harry still had his engagement ring on and seemed merely to be on friendly but not intimate terms with the lady. He was wearing a shopworn putrid-green and white striped polo, fraying at the collar. They sat at the sushi bar--not a cozy counter, which was where Bert and I sat, arranged by the butch head-waitress, playing footsie and fingersie. They left before Bert and I, which means the dinner was too short to be a date.

I wasn't seated near him and could only observe thus much in 15 seconds and I told Celest everything I knew on facebook-chat. She bombarded with me questions after questions and although to some people her paranoid line of interrogation may seem annoying, I empathized with her, was patient. I was in her shoes and knew exactly how she felt. I was at that point of time so troubled that much of my luscious black hair turned gray from worrying and even started to lose much hair. But that was over. And Celest wrote on her facebook: "What a difference a day makes." I'm glad she's comforted.

2. Bert and I just had our first lovers' tiff in the car. We're not exactly lovers yet but when I went out with Rusty today, my sister said, "Why waste your time?" and I couldn't help but to agree. Bert told me that because he is a Marine, he can never, never hold hands with me in public. I am thankful to hamkey's sympathy that she finds it sad that two persons in love cannot express their love through such a simple action as holding hands. I've always taken for granted that it is right that two men or two women not to hold hands in public to show their affections but hamkey's comment makes me see how abnormal the situation is and how perverse the society is for imposing such distorted notions on gay people.

I told Bert all my arguments. I told him his gay officer who gave himself the nickname Genie, as in Christina Aguilera's "Genie in a Bottle," who was spotted holding another man's hand, isn't fired at all. I told him people need to know that gay people contribute to the society too, that he, who is gay, was picked to be the Best Marine of the year out of thousands and thousands of candidates; gay people are just as capable as straight people even in what is traditionally known as masculine fields; gay people are not psychotic crossdressing serial killers, abducting big women to make body suits of pendulous breasts. He, likesorra, said I have so much gay pride. Honestly, I don't know what gay pride is but if it means that I can live an open, honest, truthful, aboveboard life, then it's true, I've a lot of gay pride. In fact, if I have to name my pride, I would say I have world-pride in wanting to change the world, I told him, wanting to make the world a better and more equal place, not merely for gay people, but also for straight people, Malays, Indians, married couples, children, disabled, everyone. Which is why I volunteer not only at Action for AIDS, but also at Mendaki (Malay organization), SINDA (Indian organization) and intend to pick up sign language at the Singapore Deaf Association. I told him I'm old enough not to have a rosy view of the world, I know it is impossible to achieve a peaceful, equal world but that doesn't mean we should stop trying.

Behind Bert, I saw a man walking towards our car with a possiblity of seeing us hold hands and I wondered for a second if I should let go for his hand but I didn't. To let go off his hand is against my philosophy and against my heart's wishes. To let go is for Bert to lose a change of learning there is no shame, and of what equality and affections can withstand. The man did walk past and did see and Bert was slightly irked but not irked enough not to leave me a goodnight kiss. He said, "What if I cannot change? We're two different kinds of people. I cannot be like you."

I said, "I'm not bending you into the shape I want but I'm trying to liberate you. I don't want you to be like me. But I want you to feel free to express how you feel. You said communication is important and body language is one form of communication. Unless of course you don't like me then you don't have to express it."

3. Me: Dear Mario, I just received a new financial aid letter, increasing my grant. I'm pretty sure you've something to do with it. Thank you so much!

Mario: Yes, indeed I did. You better come back in the spring.

I LOVE MY TEACHERS!

We had a picnic and serendipitously Singapore Symphony Orchestra was playing in the park. There was a huge turn-out and while everyone around us was really there for the music, we ate and played Taboo. Children blew bubbles which flew around us; it was magical. Lydia even baked a bukkake cake, quite delicious but a little dry.

Then went to meet Bert Bert, Contestant #5. It's too early to tell but I gave him a rose so that he can stay in my game of "The Happy Bachelor" in which I'm the star. But when am I never the star?

SMS after I sent him home:

1. Every gym has a dirty old pedophilic man who preys on young flesh. I've been seeing this Old Man in my gym for years and all of a sudden, he lost so much weight. This was 8 weeks ago. He doesn't do any cardio, so there are only three reasons for his weight loss: 1. liposuction, 2. anorexia or 3. major illness. Today I saw him again and he is slowly but surely putting on weight.

The boy whom the Old Man was picking up said, "Wow, that guy has a great figure."

Old Man said, "He's probably gay."

The reason why Old Man would reply with such a non sequitur is because he was testing the water, to gauge from the boy's reaction whether the boy can be ensnared - but Old Man's method is ignoble and vile. He's entering my Burn Book.

2. Why I shouldn't buy expensive things: my Marc Jacob bag is rended at the seams. It's barely 3 months old. Banana Republic polos and G-Star berms are stained pink; Ralph Lauren shirt has curry--I love curry!--all over it; embroidery on Ed Hardy cap is unravelling.

I really adore my MJ bag because it's huge--I love big bags--and functional, allowing me to put 3 books, 2 stacks of exam papers, dirty gym wear, shoes, showering paraphernalia and more.

I must clarify that I'm the least materialistic person. I'm an academic! And most academics aren't that shallow. I don't look down on people who buy cheap things and I am not envious of people who buy expensive things. I do not mind buying, wearing, carrying cheap apparel but I figure that expensive clothing may last longer and in the long run, it is more value for money. Besides the quality, the design and fit are better. And furthermore, buying a few expensive items makes me happy--and I shop very very seldom--and if I can afford it, why not? People ask me if my Prada bag is real, I answer, "I don't buy counterfeits." It is not that I'm uppish, it's just that if I cannot afford it, then I won't buy it. There is no shame. These material goods are feel-good consumers' products; they're a "want", not a necessity. Which is the reason why I am so careless with these expensive things, why I wasn't angry when my parents stained my clothes pink. It's not because I'm rich but because it's just material and there are many, many more things more important than material. Sorry, Madonna, I'm not a material girl.

In fact, and whoever says that this is untrue doesn't know me well, I'd rather receive a hand-made present or a book or a present that is carefully picked--that is a gift that is suited for my character and needs--than expensive presents unless it has to do with books, like Mont Blanc pens, first edition signed books, Amazon's Kindle, etc. Honestly, my love don't cost a thing! I'm still Jenny Jenny from the block!

3. I've been volunteering and my new friends are bitchy and hilarious.

Vince: What is your status?

Me: I'm very, very single.

Vince: What does that mean?!

Russ: It means he's a slut!

Vince: Let me guess your type. You like Whites?

Me: Hm... not really. I'm race-blind, I can date any race.

Russ: See, he's a slut!

XH: Who's bringing what for the picnic?

Me: Lydia is baking an orange cake.

XH (without skipping a beat): Then you better not eat it.

Then I secretly, immediately backstabbed XH by telling Lydia what she said. I am a friend indeed.

*

KX: I'll bring frisbee. Who else is going for the picnic?

Me: XH, Lydia.

KX: Hm.. Not exactly frisbee gang. Maybe I'll bring chess set or jigsaw puzzle.

Hairstylist: You have so much white hair.

Me: Having white hair is better than having no hair!

A trip to the hairstylist always cheers me up. There was a white guy sitting next to me and I spoke to the fag hag who was cutting his hair in Mandarin.

Me: Ask him if I'm his type.

She: I dare not ask. What if he beats you up?

Me: You can ask indirectly. Like "Do you prefer me or him?" 

She: Maybe he understands Mandarin.

Me: If he does, he would have asked for my number.

When White Guy took a hand mirror to look at his nape, the reflective surface was in my direction and I said to my stylist, "Stop staring at me. Take action, ask for my number!"

My stylist was so tickled by me that he spent 1.5 hours on my very short hair.

Stylist: Shall I gel your hair?

Me: No, I'm not going out, not meeting anyone.

Stylist: Then you won't get to see any hotties.

Me: You must change your concept. When we go out, it's the people who will stare at us, we NEVER hunt for hotties.

*

I ran into Ms Low today at a bookshop. She was my high school teacher and remembers my name.

Me: I've always wanted to look for you. I returned once but someone said you were no longer teaching there. I even searched for you on facebook because you were the only teacher who was concerned for me. I wanted to let you know that I haven't committed suicide, that I turn out fine, that you shouldn't worry.

Low: I'm so glad to hear that but I really hadn't done much.

Me: Do your students give you as much difficulty as I did?

Low: Were you difficult? I can't remember. I only remember you were going through a rough patch.

Me: Yes, growing up was especially tough for me but I've now sorted things out and I hope no teenagers should go through what I went through.

Low: I still have the teddy bear you gave me ten years ago.

Me: Now I feel so old I shouldn't be calling you Ms Low.

Low: No, you haven't aged at all, you look the same except you look better now. 

Honestly, the only sentence I remember is the last one; I made up the rest of the colloquy. What is true is meeting Ms Low left me with a fuzzy feeling.

*

I genuinely like Raymond, my bff's bf--and it's not often I like my friends' choices--because I am comfortable with him. I no longer have to ask my bff not to bring his boyfriend out or to hide things from him; what I can say in front of my bff, I can say in front of his boyfriend.

Dr Ray: I was trying to ask a (Chinese) patient whether she had sex recently. How do you say "have sex" in Mandarin?

BFF: You say 行房 (act in the room).

Ray: No one understands that! That's so archaic!  

Me: You say 做爱 (make love).

Ray: That's so vulgar.

BFF: That's a direct translation from English, the Chinese will never understand you. 

Me: What's so vulgar? Of course the Chinese understand. We'll ask the gay [Chinese] waiter over there.

BFF: You're not serious are you? 

Me [to Ray]: So what did you say to the patient in the end?

Ray: I said, "Did you..." *thrusting action with his hands by the sides and pelvis jabbing*

Me: YOU DID THE ACTION?!

Ray: Yeah...

Me: And you called me vulgar?!

BFF: Don't do that again, it may be misconstrued as harassment.

On my way home in the train, I thought of the perfect word. It's 洞房 (enter the room). To think Ray and I got A1 for our Cambridge Chinese exams.
 

Me: What do you think your (twin) brother would say about your choice in boyfriend?

Ray: He'd approve it! After all, not everyone gets on the Law dean's list for four years. My brother is a bit---

Me: Elitist?

Ray: Yes, sorry to say I cannot think of another word... 

Me: I can. Snobbish, uppish, arrogant, snooty....

Ray is a little, well, elitist too, like my bff's ex-boyfriend but the difference between them is Ray is not judgmental and EX-boyfriend is discerning to the point that he only associates with people he deems worthy of his social status.
 
 Melville, BFF's steroid-pumped friend, who came later said that he heard that I was happy for my BFF. He thought that I was happy because BFF has gotten rid of the evil EX but I was happy because my BFF is a good person and deserves to be happy. It is true that I dislike the EX but I am not that sinister to ask my BFF to break up if I knew the EX would give him great happiness.

I left shortly after Melville arrived because I didn't want to socialize, feeling a mournful state, to enclose, embalm myself from the world for a while. My desolation forbid me to let myself be entirely, uninhibitedly, undeniably happy.

Melville didn't pay his part of the bill. At first I thought he simply forgot to return me the money, then I remember how BFF used to complain about Melville's penny-pinching ways. He's a doctor! And I don't even have a decent job. That's it, no more going out with Cheapskate Melville. He's so miserly Cheapskate is not even his middle name; it's his first.

*

I bought the Australia Guidebook for my 2010 travel!
 

I wavered whether to go tosorra 's hotpot dinner in the evening because Liz would be there too but the location was just beside where I was giving tuition. But Closee convinced me because of my text to her. In the day, I saw a boy who looked like Melvin, one of the best looking men in Singapore. Melvin was so geisha-hot --"stop men in their tracks with a single glance"--- that when I saw him jogging topless while I was driving, I nearly accelerated into a lamp-post. (Hot as Melvin is, luckily he has a major character flaw: having no character is his character.) So I just had to text Closee, which led to a series of texts:

Me: Saw someone who looks like Melvin. Same height, same face same body but too young and with a hip haircut. But so hot in a white singlet! Ooh! Rape!

Closee: Hey u sure u dun wanna steamboat with us? Just come eat la. Can talk and eat tgt. so fun.

Me: I'll come if I can talk about Brandonna.

Closee: Dun avoid me. Look into my eyes. Say u will come. Come. Coming.

Closee: Oh I just got to know that I have a melvin coming to join us for dinner too. Melvin leh.

Me: Is he hot?

Closee: I will ask him to take off his top to let u see. 

Me: So tempting!

Closee: Come la. We go shopping at supermarket tgt after your tuition? No one help me carry all e food leh. 

How could I have not gone after Closee's hardsell persuasion?

When I saw Melvin, I whispered to Closee, "You can tell him to keep his shirt on." But I like Melvin; he's very witty and says things like "What's the point of winning without style?" and we all switched to our left hands to play tennis...on wii. He has character and wit. sorra should get to know him more.

But as the evening wore on, I felt increasingly uncomfortable being in proximity with Liz (and to a certain extend, Nora,) up to a point which I felt sad. It is difficult to say why or how. I felt as if I was bounded, unable to be myself, to be free. There were things I wanted to say but didn't. So now I am more resolute in not going out in an intimate group with her.
 

sorra, Closee and I met to celebrate sorra's birthday.  It was very fun and heartwarming. Closee is a school teacher, about to marry, having a crush on her student, Brandon.

sorra

sorra

ryken24

Friday night. Went to the Adlus Night Hike with Yisa and a group of strangers to celebrate the Pink Month. Someone asked why not hike in the day. I should have replied, "Because UV causes irreversible damage to the skin and faggots, like vampires, are afraid of UV." It was so dark you had to use your mobile phone to light the way - like how gay men see in dark rooms of saunas.

morbidity80 asked, "But what's there to see at night?"

I said, "Government flats." and a blood moon.

 

It is nice to see an old white guy with an old Asian guy, instead of the stereotype of old rice queens with young (Malay) potato queens.



Saturday. Had fun at XH's birthday party (played Wii) and atmorbidity80 's BBQ.

Monday. Had mushroom pot at the indoor stadium with my sister, Shovan andmorbidity80 and then took a walk down the river.

morbidity said, "This is romantic, too bad I'm with you."

I said, "Now that you've recce-d this place, you can bring your partner here in the future - but remember who you gave your first time to."

When I was younger, I used to think that K knew me very well because we're of the same temperament. In the late years, we seem, however, to diverge in our thoughts and when we talked yesterday, he articulated our difference very well:

"You're too idealist and will end up in disappointment; I'm resigned and jaded but contented."

We're such sad people! And we revel in our sadness! His fire has long gone cold and mine will never be quenched.