Mothers' day is coming.

But I have nothing lined up. HOW SCREWED UP IS THAT?

Have no idea what to do. Brother's out (as usual). Its ok. lets brainstorm. like NOW

1) Bring her to that night safari place (too expensive, too far)
2) Pretend mothers' day is next week (option's only viable if I'm prepared to cook, wash, clean up the house for the entire week next week)
3) Commit suicide (NAH!)
4) Burn her a cd (too cheapskate. would work if I had another more solid idea.)
OK I'VE GOT TO TURN OFF THE TV. THEY JUST SCREENED SOME STUPID MOTHERS' DAY THING AT TTSH. WHAT THE HECK????????????? AS IF I WASN'T STRESSED OUT ENOUGH ABOUT THIS. AND WHY ON EARTH DON'T THEY HAVE DAUGHTERS' AND SISTERS' DAYS. ITS NOT LIKE WE DON'T MATTER.
5) Treat her to some spa thing. (good idea, huh. took some time to come up with this one.)
6) Cook for her (That's sooooo not going to happen. Do you want the kitchen to go up in flames?)
Sigh. Don't understand why we have to have special days like these.

Maybe coz people like me don't know how to show appreciation.

I'm such a fat grouch. Don't know how she puts up with me. She takes the most shit from me. She cleans up for me. She drives me around. She listens to what I have to say (sometimes).

She's so goondoo. Uses paper to press lift buttons, but doesn't change her clothes everyday.

Sometimes, she really exasperates me. But there are times I wouldn't know what I'd do without her.

Problem is: I feel so much that I don't know if there's ever enough that I can do to convey what I feel.

I've taken so much from her. Her time, her attention, her love, her care...... I've made her worry, made her cry, laugh, cry some more, made her angry....................

Worst thing is, I've made her give so much, but I've never really given back.

Sometimes, I compare her with my dad, and somehow, she never seems to measure up. How can one ever measure up to someone immortalized in our memories as almost perfect?

Yet, I selfishly demand that she does more, takes on more, works more.

Strange, isn't it? One's always reaching for the stars, for the sky, for higher ground....... not realising the flowers that are waiting to be appreciated...... those that are right under one's feet.

Happy Mothers' Day, mom.

Girls cannot do math. Now, before all you gung-ho feminist types come waving little white posters and protesting, what I have to say is true. (OK! maybe not gospel truth. But let me just state this for the record: What I am saying does not apply to female PRC Scholars and medfac goondoos.)

I've just come back from my cousin's house in Toa Payoh.

She cannot do factorisation, has problem understanding the concept of similar triangles and has problems differentiating between the instructions of solving quadratic equations and factorising them. (Admit it la, all of you also can't differentiate between the two right.)

I see a lot of myself in her. I mean, only in the inability to do math. Unlike me, she's a very normal girl. There's nothing of the psycho in her. Just thought I'd mention that before you guys press the panic button thinking that there's yet another maniac on the loose.

And no, she does not cry or start pulling her hair out if she cannot do math.

Looking back, all this is really easy. But man, was it tough then.

Now, I hear myself echoing my balding uncle (must have been pulling HIS hair out when he was a kid who couldn't math too) who taught me math.

"It comes with practice. Skip your CCA, but not so that you can go out with your friends, but so that you can go home and study."

I'm sorry if I come across as a constipated nerd, but its the TRUTH. The only way to do well is to practise (esp. if you're like me). All the questions you can lay your grubby hands on. At least twice.

All this mugging might be a little premature for a sec two kid, I agree. But, some buggers just take that long to understand the simple fact: The amount of work you put in is directly proportionate to the grades you get at the end of the day.

I don't like frogs. They're slimy, they're cold, and they're freaking ugly.

Ok. So I'm just a superficial freak who will never kiss the frog even if it will turn into a prince.

By the way, has anyone ever had frogs' legs? I'm told that it tastes like chicken. bleargh. The Chinese eat the weirdest stuff. Sigh. Why am I part of this whacked up race that eats dogs, snakes, pigeons and rhinoceros' horns?
Yuck.

Anyway, I digress. I think my fear of frogs started when my dad started making me walk along this pathway next to Kensington Park. I started calling it "Frog Way" and I guess the nickname just stuck. As you have probably already guessed (I take it that all of you are intelligent people) "Frog Way" is home to DOZENS, maybe even HUNDREDS of slimy, cold, eeeeky frogs, toads, amphibians, whatever-you-want-to-call-them. And we had to walk through that dark pathway night or day, come rain or shine.

Sigh.

Why did my dad put us through such torture? ( I say 'us' because my goondoo brother's also scared to death of frogs/toads/those ugly four-legged things but staunchly refuses to admit it. So's my mom really.) I have a feeling my dad used to be scared too, but he was just really good at hiding it.

He didn't want to pay... lemme recall.. i think it was $50 a month to park in the carpark downstairs. So he'd drive to the private estate behind Kensington Park and make us take that 10 minute walk through "Frog Way".

It was especially bad during rainy days. Hansel had a frog jump on his leg before.

Talk about child abuse.

I used to squeeze his arm so tight because I was afraid. He'd make stupid jokes all the time to lessen the tension, but I was always too scared to listen.

I miss him lots. Don't know what I'd give now to have him back. Hell, I'd walk through "Frog Way" every day if it meant that I could hold on to him the way I used to.

But come to think of it, maybe I never really let go of his arm. Or was it the other way around?

I love visiting the library.

Maybe its just the seemingly endless shelves of books, that oddly-comforting smell (is it the air-conditioning there?), the silence and the nice parquet/carpeted floor.

But more than the peace and quiet, more than the volumes of agatha christie books and the uncountable trashy, ditzy romance novels which I can borrow ALL FOR FREE, I love going to the library with friends who share my love of reading.

You learn a lot at the library.

About other countries, other cultures, other people who lead such separate, exciting, out-of-this-world lives, about Man's psyche, his beliefs, his ideals, his ugliness, his beauty.

But when you go with your friends, you learn about them: the books they like/dislike, the books they read when they were young, the books they were reading last month........

Each of those tattered, yellowed pages have stories to tell: stories of how the hero saves the damsel in distress, how the detective solves the crime, and also how the vampire prince and Julian (are they the same person??) would melt Karen's and Melissa's hearts, how Pamela would sigh over Jamie's latest act of bravado, how Farida would spend nights enchanted by the spell with which J.K. Rowling would spin her tale of Harry's latest adventures at Hogwarts, and how Mer would be curled up on her bed with a box of tissues, crying over some soppy love story by Julie Garwood.

Today, Mel, Karen and I went to the library. (Shhhhh... don't tell the supes)

They literally plonked themselves in front of the Night World series and started fighting for the books. Two 19-year-old, very mature and demure looking young ladies clawing each other over a fantasy series they read in their early teens.

It was a sight for any friend to behold. Pity I didn't have a camera then.

Blackmailing people is a very lucrative business these days.

There's simply no denying it. I love the library. Especially when I go there with friends.

help! i can't stop blogging! someone stop me!!!!!!!!!!!

Karen, aren'tcha proud of yourself???
(by the way, i'm bringing those beyblade things to office tomorrow, in case i run out of things to do. Which, if you think about it, is virtually impossible, since I've discovered the wonderful world of blogging.)

ok. since i'm here.... i might as well satisfy all your appetites for more news/rambling/comments/intelligent observations and ruminations about life

Today, I will talk about the similarities between brothers and pet dogs.

1) They smell weird
2) If you're skilful enough, you can get them do fetch you things
3) They bathe only every two days or so. If you're my brother's dog, you bathe every half a year. What can I say, its a dog's life.
4) They drool- a lot.
5) They think with their dicks
6) Their daily activities consist of eating, sleeping and checking out females, and of course occasionally scratching behind the ear, under the armpit....
7) Admit it, they're really cute. Especially when they beg you for stuff.
8) You can hit them as hard as you possibly can, and it has no effect whatsoever on them, they just keep on clawing at you, farting and drooling everywhere.
9) There's absolutely no getting rid of them
10) Underneath all that hostility and crap you give each other you can't help but love em. (awwww... the cute babies.)

YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT GOT POSTED!!!!!!!!!!! WHAHAHAHAHHA.......... CHEW ON THAT, BLOGSPOT!!!!!!!! whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooohooooooo~! :)

I've just won a war with blogspot. Or at least I hope I have. If this page doesn't show on the damn blog, I'll have lost. sigh.

You guys have no idea how I fight to get new blog entries to you.

My brother was wants to spend... i dunno how much. He wants to buy 32 volumes of some martial arts manga. You know, the kind where the guys don't look human.. (actually, the girls don't look human either.) yeah. so.. each volume costs $6.80, multiply that by 32......... that would be......................... a lot.
You lazy asses do the math. I'm already doing my bit by typing all this.

oh. he just said that characters in MY manga don't look human. hmph. what does that neanderthal know? He's practically buying all those lame plastic swords those rabid collectors have.

Anyway, I'm off buying manga for at least 2 months. Coz i spent $1,300 last month. Don't ask me what I spent it on. I'm a woman-fine, girl- I don't know what I spend on!

Well, back to what I was talking about-my brother and his manga fetish. Here comes the interesting part: guess the names of the two main characters? whhahahah......

1) Little Fish-whose power (they all have powers.) is Wu Jue Shen Gong, which enables him to contrary to popular belief, not move rocks and sit under waterfalls and cause things to explode just by flexing his chest muscles, but to use 5 skills.. to make a certain part of his body very hard, attack, defend, and what not. Do you guys think I actually remember this stuff???
2) Flawless Flower-whose power (yes, he has powers too despite his faggoty sounding name, and yes, he's male.) is something to do with flowers

sigh. The youth of today worry me. A lot.