A year later...

In the blink of an eye, she did her disappearing act, without a word, and left us standing there. It was totally out of character -- then again, it's probably just a show of her true colours. Frankly, it didn't bother me, although I was fascinated with her efforts to avoid hanging out together. Like Anwar says, opportunities abound for "social experiments". Bloody Aquarians. Heh.

This makes 2 more on my list of friends who don't like each other, and a mental note that one of them strongly prefers not being in the vicinity of the other. (Aside: But one should never lose heart. I remember how I tried to avoid SF in the early days. But look how far we've come since then? And I've learnt too, that resistance is futile! Hehehehe!)

Anyway, the launch wasn't as happening as expected -- although we did get asked for a couple of photos.

Since good window dressing shouldn't be taken down before they have been done sufficient justice, SF got another friend out to pub. Now, while I was comfortably minding my own business at Sound Bar, some guy from the next table came by and asked me to tell one of the women at his table that her red top didn't go with red shoes and red underwear. Har??? Wah lau, crazy angmoh. Like, say that again? Your accent a bit hard to understand, and you talk too fast. So, I was caught off-guard, but managed to find the words to say that I thought she looked perfectly fine in her ensemble, and laughed it off. Like, what a clown. But, since I managed a lucid response, expected him to walk back to his table to continue whatever amusement he was engaged in with his companions, so that I could return to my comfortable idling mode. Except, he continued standing there, and continued talking, and wouldn't stop looking into my eyes. And then it dawned on my feeble brain that the chubby angmoh was chatting me up. Gaaahhh!!!

Interestingly, in spite of my surprise (I don't exactly get chatted up on a regular basis, much lest by an angmoh), I didn't freak out or clammed up -- maybe coz my friends were there too, or I chose to just go with the flow. Oh, wait, I did gain a decent amount of XP (Multi User Dungeons & Dragons speak for eXperience Points) from that brief episode with Mr Separated Pending Divorce, didn't I? It probably helped too, that the guy was as funny as he was overwhelming. And believe me you, he overwhelmed me alright. French-Italian. 'Nuff said?

E dropped by our table a couple more times, to entertain everyone, and gaaahhh, he made me feel like a zoo exhibit -- in a very small enclosure. A Chinese chap from his table, J, also dropped by a couple of times, to chat SF up. Also known as the hit-and-run man, coz he didn't really have the mental agility to follow through quick enough. Well, I guess "love goddesses" need much more skillful handling, especially the quick-witted ones. Laugh.

- - - - - - - - - -

Saturday had me fending off E's invitations to lunch and dinner. Well, I did have to work Saturday morning, and then there was that dinner with SF and Jack. Heh. Heh.

After dinner with Jack, I called E about meeting up. So, with SF as "immoral" support -- well, there's hardly anything "moral" about using E as target practice, is there? Heh. Anyway, tried casting a Summon Spell (more MUDD speak) and got both E and J to join us at Siam -- they were already at Next Page, but what the heck, let's just try that Summon Spell, and hey, what do you know, it worked. Smug. Unfortunately for the guys, their Charm Creature Spell didn't work on us, and they had to leave later in the night, without us, to join their friends at Velvet Underground. Snicker.

The rest of the night continued to be interesting. SF was chatted up by 2 green horns, and come to think of it, they actually helped her to rediscover her mojo, or rather, pinpoint the source. And so, after her legendary raindance, the ocean started to teem. Heh. Amidst some fly-fishing, a public whipping of an obnoxious creature who chose to mess with the wrong woman, SF discovered her groove. Cool :-) Of coz, yours sincerely, the default proximal beneficiary, has no cause for any complaints, whatsoever. Yep, the Force is definitely strong in this one. Heh.

- - - - - - - - - -

Was actually intending to join E for Sunday lunch or dinner, if he called to ask. But he had to leave a day earlier than expected. He'll be back in August to take up the new job in credit derivatives (what the hell is that, but sounds interesting, yah?). Ah well...

- - - - - - - - - -

Do you know that it's almost been a year since the cogs of destiny began their inevitable grind?

I wish...I wish...

She: When he dies, will any one of you miss him at all?

I: No. I guess we'll be sad for a while. But no, we won't miss him.

Striking the lottery should be a happy affair. Not in my family -- not when HE is the one who strikes the lottery. Because it becomes his ticket to more bad behaviour.

The truth is, when I say he's an alcoholic, I don't mean he just drinks. He drinks, and has to drink, compulsively and excessively. Yes, it's a problem. To be more precise, it's OUR problem.

When we came home tonight, he went straight for the dog, and having ensured that he had the audience, whacked her with orchestrated ferocity. All to display his displeasure with us. I wanted to hit him too. My sister stared at him with such hatred and took the dog away into her room. After that, having gotten our attention, he went to bed. I pity mum who shares a bed with him -- at least we could return to the sanctity of our own bedrooms. Oh, no...it's not that he would hit her. He doesn't have the balls to. And that's why he takes it out on a defenceless little animal.

We had expected something like this -- he was already drunk when he babbled into my mother's handphone earlier.

My father is the dirty family secret that you wish you could stash away in the darkest corner of the closet when you have visitors, or attend a social event. I often pray that he would die before my mum does. Nobody wants to be saddled with him as the single surviving parent.

One of the dog's eyes has a bright red rim. I would not want to come home one day to find that she's gone blind or limp. Because then, I swear...I will...

Hello, again.

Re-opening the closed door to a sorely tried friendship demands a lot of soul-searching, forgiveness and patience. And sometimes, having "bloody thick skin" helps too, especially when dealing with past embarrassements. Of course, don't forget the poop scoop while you're at it.

Forgive and forget, some say. But I don't believe in forgetting. It would certainly be easy enough to sweep unpleasant memories into a dark corner, pretend they aren't there, and hope that in time, you and everyone else might even forget that they even happened. But skeletons have a way of slipping a bony foot out of the closet, when you least expect it.

It is harder to forgive when the unhappy circumstances remain fresh in your mind; but if you can take a step back and reflect on the situation and your reactions, then I believe, forgiveness given in this context, will be of a sturdier stock, and will be more able to withstand future trials.

So, have you ever truly forgiven someone? Or simply, and conveniently, chosen to just "forget"?

Detached.

He really wanted to meet me; guess he hasn't seen me before (or has forgotten what I looked like after all those years -- heck, neither could I). So yesterday, he song4 shang4 men2 to my workplace. And, we finally met.

All I can say is: I can understand why he might have an inferiority complex. Snicker. And since there hasn't been a squeak from him since, I guess he didn't like what he saw either. Grinz.

- - - - - - - - - -

A week, a month, three months, six months, and a year from the day that you broke up with your ex, do you tell your story differently? Do you find yourself reading from a new script? Are you still the same hapless victim; or are you now the strong one who had been in the driver's seat all along? Does it say anything about how you have come out of the entire episode?

I spy with my little eye.

My friend was in a cab when he passed me waiting to cross the junction to my block. This, he told me the next day, to my immediate outburst of anxiety and embarrassment. He didn't see what was so embarrassing about waiting to cross the road. Well, yes...

I guess this comes from not being on my "best behaviour" all the time. Laugh. I just can't bear the thought of being observed (and to my neurotic mind, very possibly scrutinised as well) without MY knowing. It creeps me out, sometimes.

So today, while waiting to pay at the pet shop, it unnerved me when I realised something in the narrow passageway was just standing there and looking in my direction. Quick look: OK...one of those open and guileless faces, pleasant looks, round rosy cheeks, but...erm...on the festively plump side. Uh...he's smiling right at me. Uhhh...pretended I didn't see and looked away. When I was done with the cashier, he asked her about getting a playpen for his dwarf hamster. Eeee..a furry rodent for a pet??? IMHO, the hamster ranks, like, dowwwn therrre, with fishes and birds, as pets. Wuss. Heh.

After leaving the shop, my sister and I ended up just behind the watcher and his friend, going up the escalator. He tried to look back casually, and then when they reached the top, they went down the other side, on the adjoining belt. Duh...continue to pretend not to notice. Heh.