Why is it now I feel like I have lost my ability to communicate effectively? Why is it so much more difficult to put abstract thoughts into words, now? It feels like the part of my brain that is committed to that just wandered off. But the thoughts are still rattling in my head, why is that?

Or maybe I never really had to explain things I have always taken for granted. It's not quite like having been thrown into the deep end, but rather... that I'm lost perhaps, in a place or without my gear.

I could use a bit of help. But that would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?

Hello.

I should be okay. I am feeling much better now. I would like to think that everyone has their little moments, where they want to write something like that out of frustration. No, there is no one trying to hurt me, except maybe myself, in which case it doesn't quite count.

Thank you the people on MSN who have prodded me. You know who you are.

----

I thought I wore my heart on my sleeve, apparently not. I thought I let people in easily, apparently I don't. I thought I would fall in love easily, and yet I don't even know what love is. And all of this, I had to find out by way of someone I've known for half a semester.

And along come my friends who say, well yes, that's what you've been all along, really. I have such a dismal sense of self awareness. I'm not even sure if I know myself, who am I and who is Other People.

Things about yourself that you have always taken for granted. And one day you find out that you've been fooling only yourself. And doing a damn fine job at that.

And last week we started philosophy lectures on existentialism. I so win at life.

He goes by the name of Matthew. I have shocked myself by choosing to spend time with him rather than WoW. I am thinking maybe this might mean that I like him more than I am aware of.

Why are you? She can feel you. She can hear you laughing. But yet you keep drawing her in and in and there is blood everywhere.

You tempted her and she stupidly, fell for it. She stupidly followed. Now she is lost in a hall of mirrors. She is trying to find the set of doors, if there are any. She does not know what to do when she gets there. She will smash the mirrors soon.

She cannot breathe or think or feel. She cannot be.

I can see into my neighbour's rooms from my window. There is this particular person who has a bed sheet that looks remarkably like Toria's yellow, tea for two bolster case, the one that she's so fond of.

There is another person, a girl I believe, who is drying a bouquet of flowers on her windowsill. I wonder how she got them, then again, if she weren't happy with them she's probably have thrown them out. So it's sweet anyway. Sweet like how this other guy has his girlfriend over every so often, to see her leaning on him and giggling while pointing at his computer screen makes me smile too.

I see people in the meeting room opposite at all hours of the day. It makes me feel much better when I sit at my desk and do my work. But hey, I do have friends ok. Speaking of which-

This chap who lives down the corridor from me is sort of half kind of courting me. Then my friend (who is also, sort of kind of half courting me) bangs on his door and greets him with how are you and how is Grace? while I am standing there peering around his arm. Amazing how Aladdin's expression can change so fast. No, Aladdin isn't an euphemism for anything, it's his real name, which is exotic even if he is middle eastern.

They continue to joke for a while (I'll beat you up! Oh yeah? How much can you bench? 76! Holy sheet I can only do 72.) When we get into the elevator I ask what makes you say he's chasing me, since he's got a girlfriend. My friend looks at me like I'm completely stupid and says, I've known him a year, he's that kind of guy.

Erm, I don't completely understand this whole thing either. But I won't rush into anything, I promise.

I Am Still Alive. I have Not Dropped Off the Face of the Earth.

Sydney is cold. It's even more of a bitch when the sun is down and the wind blows. But in the day it's fine, you see people lounging on the grass patches around the school. An odd sight for someone from a tropical climate.

I'm living in the school hostel at the edge of the school grounds. I can get anywhere on the school given half an hour, a fact I love. I've met people who take an hour to get to school, that's like when Jenny was living in Seng Kang! You must have to spend a fortune on transport! It really doesn't help that if you're not a PR, you don't get concessions.

I live in a studio apartment, so I'm by myself. There is no kitchen. Therefore I have to figure out Creative Ways to Make Meals, given a mircowave and fridge. But it's a cosy place, very comfortable, with good insulation. Also, for some reason I fall asleep by midnight and I'm up by 10. Which has never in my life happened before. Oh well, I'm not complaining.

But I like this place, when it's daylight and I'm not hungry, because there is no such thing as cheap food. And I like what I'm doing in uni. I'm starting to see why Toria thinks I'll do well here.

Have you ever seen a picture, where the scenery makes you pause? You can nearly feel the breeze, the tickling grass, the worn wood under your fingers. Something that is so beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time, that makes you think, is that place real?

Only to realise, I could live the rest of my life there.

Have you ever?

I'm tired.

So I'm quiting my job at the end of this month. If I keep working like this I'll crash and burn by the time I hit uni. Even then, I'll pop by to help out if they've got a mad reservation or something like that. I really need a holiday, maybe I'll take up my aunt's offer of a 2 week silk road trip. Until then, I must go back to gaming, I've been running on empty for too long.

I'll miss the funny regular customers and food the kitchen whips up for staff meals. I'll even miss the stupid accidents, of wine glasses and bloody hands. And of course, the people who help me hide such accidents from my draconian managers. I'll miss alot of things, but I can't function in this limbo anymore.

Work isn't a substitute for school like I thought it would be. The lifestyle is completely different. For instance, I can't function on two hours of sleep. And I have to dumb myself down or people can't understand what I'm trying to say. It's a bit of a struggle to write properly, work does nothing for my grammar and useage of lingo., can't seem to code switch anymore. I have to start reading again.

I don't know if he's coming back and I don't really care at this point. I will always rememeber that impossible amount of frustration loaded into four simple words. Someone else found him first, and I wish them well. I hope they fix it.

The relief and release after final exams. But do you know what it's like to turn heads on the street? What it's like when your long term crush (yes, even til now) looks at you with new eyes? When half the people you know don't recognise you? Time and situation conspired against us, that much we agree on.

But dangling things in front of me, just to make sure I'd call you back? That was the final straw.

Even then, you're right and I do feel guilty.

Not.

So I was supposed to start part timing on Friday, mid March. And what? Now my boss gets to hear of it and says no? I have to full time till the end of April, at least. On the other hand, he does have a point; my probation period will be over and they'll start paying CPF, along with any medical benefits.

I am such a damned sucker for people who are nice to me. Yet from here the negotiatons start, I need a 5 day work week soon or I'll crack.

My results? I'm good with it, my parents are happy, it's enough.

It's enough.

It's the time of year for hearts, flowers and blog entries denouncing the prominence of hearts and flowers on V-Day. A few days ago, I read an article in that vein by regular New Paper columnist Ivy Ong-Wood which prompted a moment's reflection. It was about a couple she knew who were getting divorced before their 3rd anniversary.

Apparently "marriage killed all romance", where Romance = sending her flowers + taking her to nice restaurants + champagne on private yachts.

Ivy's idea of romance was more mundane, found in everyday actions like her husband going out at 2am to buy kway teow soup for her. That's not far off from my parents' own philosophy; every day is Valentine's Day for them. (Aww... so gross) Once, we were in Paris standing on the steps of the Sacre Coeur on Montmarte Hill, overlooking arguably one of the most romantic views in Europe. I asked them, "Isn't this romantic?" And my father replied, "Yes but your mother and I can be romantic anywhere." (Aww... ew gross)

Turning back to my own relationship, I think if I asked Jamie to go out and buy a specific, hard-to-find dish like kway teow soup, he'd probably tell me to go stuff myself or snack on something healthy like fruit instead since I'm always complaining about being fat. Come to think of it, getting your boyfriend to fetch food for you in the middle of the night seems to be a remarkably Singaporean characteristic. One memorable example of this is a piece of gossip I heard concerning a SGean boy who went to Oxford and was so pussywhipped by this SGean girl he fancied that he would ride his bicycle for miles into town during winter, at night, in the dark, to the MacDonald's just to satisfy her craving for a burger. His name was Philbert, by the way, which might explain things a bit.

Don't get me wrong though, I like romantic gestures, flowers and diamonds as much as the next girl. Especially diamonds. But at the risk of sounding smug, I don't need any of the above from my boyfriend as proof of his love because I already know he loves me.

Here, I'll count the ways:

1. Moving Out For Me

He basically moved all 8 boxes of my stuff into storage at his house for me. Of course I helped but he did most of the heavy lifting.

2. Letting Me Crash In His Room For 3 Weeks During Exams

We didn't fail though.

3. Finding A Flat For Us

Walking around viewing flats in the London chill until his feet blistered and he got the flu. Just so I could spend chinese new year with my family.

4. Moving In For Me

Moving all my boxes into the new flat from his home which is 3 hours drive away on treacherous snowy roads.

5. Braving My Parents + Making Them Like Him

Convinced them that he wasn't a despicable ang moh out to deflower and exploit their innocent daughter.

6. Learning Some Chinese

He has learnt the words

Shark
Enemy
Cockroach
Danger
and
Vampire

He also speaks a bit of Singlish.

7. Resigning Himself To The Fact Of Bolbol

'Nuff said.

No one bothered to tell me that she'd been removed. Suddenly, I have to deal with all the Valentine's Day reservations myself. Oh gee, thanks. Tomorrow, I'll have about 5 hours to know the menu back to front, call and confirm with 14 people and assign tables.

Yes, it'll be easy (it's an eternity of 5 hours for god's sake) but what annoys me is that the most fun bit, labelling tables, has been taken away by my bar manager because he says it's unprofessional. Hahaa, so damn many things about the place can be considered unprofessional that I don't know why he's making noise about this.

Then again, it's also probably because he doesn't trust me enough to do it decently. Not for all my parchment, fountain pens, german nibs and indian ink.

With her gone, I'm back to being a door bitch. I'm paid to stand around and wait for people to walk past, or seat customers, which sounds like a good deal yes? Hahaa. I'd much rather be writing an essay or doing someone else's homework. Hell, I'd be happy in a corner, beta reading the chef's reports.

It's a damned good thing I'm only here til university.

Come home past midnight. Munch on leftovers. Watch half a movie and polish off half a tub of ice cream. Write notes for family members, because I don't get home early enough to talk with them. Chat online with people half way across the world, because the time difference is just right.

I like work. But having so little time left for anything else, is driving me mad. The following is a random thing that's been floating in my head. Work gives me strange ideas.

---

No pressure, just guilt. Yes, your hair is too long for wax but I still love to run my hands through. Scratchy kisses, can't leave a mark. Fogged glasses, will they notice? Soap and a sigh, watching the blue grey patterns from your Marlboroughs fade.

I almost wish for you to leave, would that make me feel better or worse? I think, at least I won't wake up screaming.

Southern Comfort and sangria, with cake on my birthday after hours. That really made up for the horrible one last year, wish everyone had wonderful colleagues like mine!

19! I don't want to get any older!

---

Why are you feeding me bullshit? Really, I may be young but please don't insult my intelligence. I know you flambouyant lying types, along with your wives and kids! I have nothing for you, so stop with the leverage! Oh, and get out of my head please. It does hurt.

TOR:

I can't talk properly or eat solid food for a week because I just had my wisdom tooth operation yesterday. I had 3 teeth out in shards after an arduous surigical operation. For the record-- it was very painful. It felt like parts of my skull and cheekbone were being carved away and wrenched out of my head, which is in effect what happened. I could feel the dentist drilling deep into my jaw. I'm afraid I screamed several times. Some kindly nurses popped in after to calm my blubbering self down. It was all very embarrassing. My mother said it sounded like they were sa-ing zhu in there, i.e. killing pig. I couldn't feel my gums and flesh, but I could feel, in my nerves, the bones in my face being sawn apart.

I heard the dentist ask for bigger pliers twice while violently chiseling into my lower right tooth, shattering it into easy-to-wrench bits. Because my teeth were so close to my nerves, I could feel the drill bit every inch of the way. And there was nothing anyone could do about the pain, since it is not possible to numb the whole damn nerve. This is not a kua-zhang-ated account. I'm already 24-- hard bones; more drilling.

Of course you'd expect me to be on a soft mushy diet of congee, congee and more congee. But in fact I've been able to get away with having more tasty, yet still liquidy stuff without having to resort to rice porridge. Initially, I thought I would be able to lose weight by not eating much during my week of recovery, but this doesn't seem so likely now. With a bit of imagination, it's amazing what yummy (fattening) foods you can think of which do not require chewing.


Vic's recommended diet for the wisdom-toothless convalescent(mastication unnecessary):

Day 1-- post-op

Dinner: Milo cereal drink +mango apple juice for vitamins
Supper: Low-fat hot chocolate drink

Day 2

Breakfast: Orange juice + horlicks energy drink
Lunch: Mashed banana + Birds' nest soup
Dinner: Sharks' fin soup (fake-- from J8 downstairs stall) + bak jio (spicy pork paste-- like mashed up bak ting)

Day 3

Breakfast: Apple pureé + marigold yoghurt drink-- passionfruit and pear flavour
Lunch: Dao huay (beancurd dessert) from Jollibean + orange juice
Dinner: Oyster mee sua from taiwanese chicken shop. (without oyster)

Day 4

Breakfast: Kopi + soft boiled egg from Ya Kun
Lunch: Brekkie To Go smoothie from Boost! (banana, vanilla low fat frozen yoghurt, muesli, milk, honey, ice + I will ask for a spoonful of chocolate)
Dinner: mashed potato + chicken gravy (ready-made from NTUC) + Tow Kae Noi seaweed (melts in mouth)

Day 5

Breakfast: Milk + Khong Guan egg rolls softened in milk
Lunch: Barley drink with dao huay from Ya Kun
Dinner: extremely cooked vegetable stew (easily mashable cauliflower, potato and carrot)


Even a wisdom tooth operation that's left me with chipmunk cheeks, holes in my gums and painful stitches that click when I laugh hasn't dampened my appetite. But I'm not hungrier than I usually am since my present diet is not actually that far off from what I would eat normally anyway. I am so not going to lose any weight lor.

My only gripe with my ravaged gums is that the ache goes right down to the holes in my jaw and cheek bones and it hurts when I laugh, smile, sneeze, cough, yawn or talk like a normal person. I can only speak in a wierd, sleazy, muffled way, through clenched teeth, without really moving my mouth. That's actually worse than my inability to eat solid food, since I've demonstrated that there's a good variety of tasty non-solid foods available in our fair country. It's times like this that I give thanks for the virtues of our bounteous island-state. Can you imagine being in angmoh-land with holes in your gums? You'd be stuck with going to chinatown for pei-dan chok, pei-dan chok and more pei-dan chok!*



*Ok, ok, I jest. I'm sure there's lots of ang-moh food for convalescents, e.g. angmoh soups, porridge, cauliflower pureé, mushy peas, Heinz baby food...

Interesting Things that Have Happened

Tor went for wisdom tooth surgery today. She's ok but still in pain and wants to eat Old Chang Kee curry puffs, as expected. I hope she doesn't bleed all over her pillows tonight, like I did that time I got my last molar extracted.

Bar manager is ill. There is something disconcerting (but at the same time funny), about a heavy set, bald man looking miserable while nursing a cup of tea. He used to be a bouncer, at that.

Peter our dish washer got hit by a motorcycle this morning, on the way to work. He's now in hospital with a broken leg. You'd think that accidents were more likely to happen in a kitchen right? I pointed this out but everyone thinks I'm mad. Hallo, what's the use of fretting? It's just a broken leg, we're not some third world country where you'll get gangrene and die from it.

The various bits of my life are fixing themselves. Also, to date I have conditional acceptance into 2 universities, having applied for 7.

Methinks '07 is starting out pretty good, all things considered.

I never thought the lack of something mentally challenging would drive me nuts. Now the memo pad I use to jot down orders is filled with random scribbles, some of which will make it to the journal in due time. It's starting to resemble my school notepad (or any of the A4 notebooks I used for Lit). Examples of my downtime mental excrement:

Rebound is Bad For You
Starfuckers is Much Love!
Get out of my head, please
and
"Anything red compels us", being from Atwood's Good Bones, a fantastic book that I'm actually planning to buy.

Along with lists of things to do, like "find out what's wrong with iTunes" or "buy new clothes". The latter is due to the fact that I'm losing weight at an alarming rate. I'm eating more, more often (I do work at a restaurant), so it doesn't make sense. This does not combine well with being in an environment I'm not comfortable in yet.

And I need to start WoWing again, or my hormone levels will become unbalanced. Bloody hell, I really need to frostbolt something to death.

I Like My Job.

It isn't perfect or anything fantastic, but it's everything a job should be. Crappy managers, unhappy collegues and not much of a life. That's the point, isn't it? On the other hand, I am very fond of the people I work with, like Sophie and Diana, making this a major reason why I Like My Job. Ok, maybe also too fond of a particular Boy but he only works Saturdays.

I am Not Unhappy with this job, but I just might move, in a while. The managers are really pissing us off and it's ok for them to lose us, since they've got about 50 new applicants in the last few weeks.

I've learnt alot of new things:

Waitressing is not always thankless.
Managers are the spawn of Satan.
The people who own the store are nicer than managers, obviously. They generally have less to stress about.
Guys behind the bar shaking up a martini automatically become Hot. (it works like a +5 charisma or something.)
Carrying 10 cups with one arm is really, dead easy.

Okok, I work at Bungalow, United Square. Ground floor, in the corner where the large beige tents are. We're more a bar than restaurant, though people keep thinking otherwise. Exhaustive list of alcohols and mixes, 4 types of sangria and 3 colours of absinthe might interest some people I know. Our Penffold and One Tree wines also seem very popular with customers.

We open at 11 everyday, close at 11 on Sundays to Thursdays, 2 on Fridays and Saturdays. Last orders for kitchen 9.45pm.

Ok, I quite like my job. For now, at least.

So the place I work at has a bar. I had half a bottle of Asahi, my mum smells it on me and thinks I'm turning into an alcoholic. And if I'm the slightest bit late she freaks if I don't call home. What's the point of asking me to get a job if you don't trust me enough to take care of myself from work to home, in a cab. Cab fare is also free because the management pays.

I start work at 3 and end at midnight everyday til Saturday, the 13th. So don't ask me out for prata or drinks or a movie or whatever unless it's before or after work. Thanks.