At first you don't succeed, try try again.

The best part of banking in a pay cheque is knowing that i have disposable income to play around with.

That is until reality kicks in and i realise that my bills are still waiting to be cleared!

Last week i even managed to pay a lump sum of my credit card bill, thinking i'd be Little Miss goody2shoes. But Little Miss Forgettable forgot to put into account that her rent is due on the 1st. AND after the very nice finance lady helped me fill out my tax forms, i owed X amount.

And just like that my account continues to deplete itself.

I think i may have miscalculated and NOW i have to go through May knowing that i'm on a tight budget. But if all goes to plan my meds should be officially halved and should mean that my medical bills will be reduced. So i'm SUPER happy over that.

...

MASSIVE NEWS UPDATE:

I have a date tonight!

No, this is not some random stranger i picked up during my lunch break. And i am more than certain he is not a goat herder. I have met this person a few times at Zouk and because i have a habit of forgetting where i meet people, i usually include a description about the person. So in this case, i've put "Piercings" as his surname. Obviously because he has numerous visible piercings. Unfortunately, i can't really remember what he looks like!

"Again," you say. Yea i know i'm horrid. I should really make an effort to boost up my photographic memory cells.

So just now after a short discussion on the phone, he busts out with "I'd like to take you out on a date tonight". Maybe i was still riding on my sugar high and to add to the whole spur of the moment deal, i respond without hesitation, "sure".

I'm sure all those How to Get a Date or Stop Dating Losers books recommend that one should wait a few days before accepting. This bloke has asked me numerous times but usually it's been quite casual and never as direct. But with work commitments, i've always said "i'm busy."

So anyway, i'm going to a wine bar. OoooOoooer how sophisticated. [I guess that beats walking into some random pub in my flip flops and i guess that means i have to dust off my heels again eh?]

Oh gawd, i'm nervous. Please let me NOT drool wine down my top tonight. And please remember to stand up straight and not fall over and injure myself.

One too many speedos and covered in SPF 50.

Prior to moving into my current apartment, i was convinced that the privacy and onlooking forest would entice me to spend my weekends lazing around beside the pool and soaking in some rays.

But since moving in [approximately 10 months ago] i've spent a total of... *thinks* 4 times by my pool.

So i figured since Sunday is the 'day of rest' i might as well dust off one of the many books i have yet to finish and rest by the pool. Even pretend like i'm on holiday at some resort and the only worries on the top of my head are deciding what drink to order next.

...

Unfortunately there was no waiter on hand serving me a fresh coconut nor was there a plethora of eye candy to perve on.

There was only the Russian family that sat in the hut meters away from me. And another Eastern European family cooking up a BBQ and sporting matching speedos.

It wasn't long until i was joined by a couple in their early 30s and their young son. The father continued to praise and comment on his sons freestyle and breast stroke. Possibly in hopes that one day this overactive, sugar induced child would be the next national rising star.

But the boy seemed more interested in swallowing the pool water and of course that was followed by huge coughing fits. The combined moronic behavior and the foreign languages echoed around the enclosed area and destroyed whatever peace was in the air within seconds.

And because i didn't want any part of it, i chose to wade around in the baby pool. With my book still in my hands and looking like a beached dolphin, i bopped around in the water with my arse poking out of the waters' surface every now and then.

The sun eventually hid behind a huge cloud and it wasn't long until i noticed a starving mosquito trying to suck the life out of me. Which was around the time when i decided my day at rest by the pool would come to an end and i made my way back to my sanctuary.

On repeat.

"I'm having a Bimbo Movie weekend"

As if announcing that little fact was any reason to emphasize my already Loser Ville persona.

I have no issues admitting that there are some days that i prefer to watch brainless, love infected, girly-girl, bimbo-tic type movies to occupy my time. Movies that lead to brain fucks or anything that requires serious concentration are usually dismissed especially since i already get that 5 days a week.

However, i will be the first to say NO to Horror flicks. I have an over active imagination and i don't need additional graphic visuals to encourage anymore twisted thoughts/dreams. Yes, i absolutely detest with a passion scary movies.

I gave away my free 2 movie passes to my colleague knowing that she would have more use for them. The fact that they were expiring on Monday was a bit of an issue plus the choice of movies being screened lately aren't up my alley.

Yesterday i was rambling on about how gutted i was that i have to go to work on Monday. Instead of running away for the weekend and enjoying the 2 day public holiday on Tuesday/Wednesday... i'm stuck here!

I had planned to go down South but due to work commitments i had to cancel. I think i'm losing my drive, my passion... my reason to progress. I'm thinking i just need to run away... somewhere on my own.

But that little dare devil in me got lazy again... and instead i spent a huge portion of my day in bed and swam in and out of consciousness.

Apart from laundry, i've done the couch potato in me proud. I've alternated between lounging on my couch watching one movie after another and sneaking back into my room for another siesta.

It's Saturday night and i'm pimpin' my bed head hair like it's a tiara. I will continue to think of YOU and imagine YOU'RE beside me. But as usual my night will involve kickin' back in my hot pink Paul Frank shorts only to pass out and possibly have today repeat itself tomorrow.

Monotony and the lack of stimuli.

Pardon my previous post, the build up of work stress combined with the lack of loving has somehow unleashed an ugly truth.

One could argue that i'm just a hater and that i wallow on self pity. And perhaps they're right, so what if i am. I reckon i'm in a better frame of mind than say a year ago. Yes it's my way of eventually getting through it all and as stubborn as can be, i'm making more of an effort to try and do it on my own.

This funk i've been in has been around for quite some time and i can't say i've done much to improve the situation. Believe me, it won't be long till boredom and hasty decision making takes over.

I've even tried to think of a hobby that might interest/distract me and so far i've come out blank. I spend more time thinking about what i might ACTUALLY like than actually going out there and enjoying myself. And as H simply put it... blogging is your hobby.

But i was thinking more along the lines of something more productive which doesn't focus so much on my mental status. But then again, that really is the only thing that concerns me at this point in time. Even when asked whether i wanted to go on a treasure hunt/wake boarding/climbing, i am quick to reply with "No Thanks" [i'm NOT an outdoorsy kinda girl].

I know i don't make much of an effort to GO OUT and mingle and I know i am to blame. I have learned to accept the Icannotbearsed Syndrome as if it were an additional limb.

I even have accepted that those days of pashing some random stranger/friend/acquaintance are becoming far in between. When alcohol was the driving force for my floozy attempts and drowning myself with booze was just so i could forget.

I know i can't blame my young reckless behavior and it's probably a good thing i tame down my ways and start to focus on more important things. *Thinks* As they say, i ain't gettin' any younger!

Nowadays, you will find me pottering around at home shifting junk from one corner to another. You may even catch me having a conversation with Satan's spawn and then to receive a repetitive two syllable meow as a response. A feline language that can translate to anything ranging from WHY HAVEN'T YOU FED ME to WATCH ME BEND OVER WHILST I LICK MY [**insert body part**].

Confessions of a Bitter Bitch

[courtesy of GettyImages]

In no particular order... I confess.

1. I dislike with a true passion seeing lovey dovey couples oogling at one another whilst they play stupid baby calling games with one another even in the presence of others.

2. I even dislike watching couples whisper sweet nothings into each others ears whilst one giggles with embarrassment and the other attempts to be adorable.

3. It makes me bubble with envy when i see two individuals lost in each others' embrace and i can just imagine the multi-coloured karmic energies projecting off their bodies and suffocating those lonely souls around them.

4. My stomach churns when i see couples bathe in their fuck fest after glow when its' obvious that their permanent smirk on their face is not JUST 'nothing', as they say.

5. I don't like hearing why or how "comfortable" couples are in their relationship and how there's nothing they can't do in front of their beau that would embarrass them.

6. I don't like the fact that sex now is meaningless and being intoxicated is an excuse for everything.

7. I hate having to be constantly a kept secret because i happened to be at the right place and at the right time. Then only later have to pretend like nothing went on whilst THEY fall deeper in love with their beau.

8. The fact that i now know more couples celebrating annual anniversaries as opposed to monthly achievements of staying "faithful." It is a cruel reminder that my only date was with a complete stranger who stood me up.

9. It saddens me when i think back and to remember how deeply in love i was so early in life. How OBSESSED i was with my beau and declaring that should the world end tomorrow we'd be happy because we were with one another.

10. It is true that i write for the sake of releasing my frustrations and writing is the closest thing to talking to an imaginary boyfriend.

It is for those readers who CHOOSE to read as opposed to those people being FORCED to LISTEN.

I haven't seen those first stars for awhile.

Today has to be one of those days where i managed to get off my arse a total of 3 times. Not only was i super productive trying to get my work done [that is not to say i spend a lot of time procrastinating] but i managed to get some illustrations done. My only issue now is waiting for my boss to give me the copy so that i can meet my Friday deadline.

I had intended to take Monday off because Tuesday and Wednesday happens to be a public holiday. But at the rate that information is coming my way, it doesn't look like that's going to happen. And because my deadline is scheduled for Monday, chances that there will be last minute revisions seem highly likely.

And because of the 2 day holiday, i thought i'd apply for leave on Thursday and Friday but looking at it now, i doubt that's going to happen too! I wanted to make a trip down South to see my mom seeing that she's been wondering why her youngest daughter hasn't seen her since the Chinese New Year break. Plus the fact that i was in Melbourne for my birthday meant she could only wish me over the phone and not in person. [Feeling slightly guilty each time i get reminded].

Time seems to be speeding up, i can't believe it's nearly the end of April. That's already a quarter of the year gone. And i wonder, apart from my work commitments and spending more quality time with... myself, i can't say i've done that much.

So far my only achievements were a] getting my arse to Melbourne b] possibly getting my dosage cut down by a third c] reducing my alcohol intake and d] stay employed. Which i must say, i am feeling quite good about. So while i try to get my life back into place i can't help but think what this year holds for me.

...

Recently i've been told that 2 of my friends are now engaged, actually 3. And as much as i am so happy for them and their decision to spend the rest of their lives with their beau, i can't help but look at my own life.

When i asked 2 of my friends how they felt, their initial answer was that they were happy and then it was followed by... "but i'm not getting any younger..."

YOUNGER? One of them is only 1 year older than me!

And with that response, it's made me question whether or not i'll ever find anyone that'll love me that much to even want to commit long term. More importantly, am i ABLE to stay faithful and not get bored? Although the thought of being in love and sharing an attraction for another is ONE of many things i miss. Sharing those miniscule thoughts, random issues and spending time with a certain someone is much different than sharing them with a close friend.

I guess i'm at the age where more people that i know are looking at the big M as the next big chapter in their lives. And i really don't see myself ever reaching that stage anytime soon which is when loneliness starts to hit even harder.

Maybe i'm entering a new chapter and that is i WANT to move on. Whether it's physically or emotionally... i know there must be more to life than... this.

To be honest, when i was younger i always thought i would be the first to get married between my sister and i. I thought i would be in a stable relationship by now and know where i'm going. I even thought i'd be super happy being a graphic designer and even boasted that i'll be "the best muthafuckin' designer".

But none of those things have happened.

Which makes me think whether ANY of my wishes i made upon the first stars i saw in the sky ever was even heard.

*Draws curtains shut*

I like playing with Water...

For those of you who have taken time out to read up on my ever so exciting life will know that my dreams are very much a part of what i usually ramble on about. They might not make sense and more than often they are rated 18 and above. I blame my overactive imagination and its ability to transform practically anything innocent into something sexual. There is no wonder my mind is forever swimming in the gutter.

So much so that if my dreams were produced for public viewing, it would require not only censorship but be noted as either the product of a severely deprived individual or one that is filled with perverse thoughts. In which case i would go with both.

I have admitted that i will be the last to flounce around freely outside the pool in a bikini unless i am partially covered by a towel. Although i am more than happy to be in the water till my fingers resemble prunes. And unless i am drunk or with a partner that i know quite well, i will usually not fully undress in front of them. The same goes for me not ever wanting to wear a boob tube out in public. Call me paranoid or even self conscious.

Which probably explains why my dreams are often my alter ego lashing out and tasting a freedom that i choose to supress.

But last night, although i can't remember the full dream, i know the common theme was Water.

Clearly the shower scene was fit for a B grade porn flick. However, should you view your sexuality as something sacred and see any form of canoodling as filth, i suggest you not read on. In fact, i don't recommend that you continue procrastinating at I SWEAR...
.
.
.

So there i was making an entrance into a steamed filled shower with dark square tiles. And of course i was blessed with a body that any plastic surgeon wished they created. And i see nothing wrong with the fact that one side of the shower wall is glass and is the only thing separating myself from the main corridor.

Much like a pay-per-view erotic session, i know in the corner of my eye that SOMEONE is watching me. I'm not sure if it's a stalker or i am in fact enjoying the attention. One can only imagine cheesy music playing on the loud speaker and soapy suds filling the drain.

And as if my alter ego hadn't washed herself enough, the next scene involves immersing myself in a half filled bathtub. Except this time, i'm entering the tub with another person already seated. I am MORE than certain this was not an act to save water.

...

And although both times i don't see the other figure, it is clear that i have no reservations of exposing myself. Perhaps my thoughts have been stained by Suicide Girls.

So when i did a google search on what "water" meant in dreams, "...it symbolised a fresh start and renewal... when they fall prey to multiple pressures and postpone their own wishes for too long..." [here]

The past few week has brought on a heavy load of work that not only has questioned my creative ability but being forced to look at my current emotional status. How it all makes sense i'm not sure but as long as my alter ego has her share of play time and hasn't transformed into some psychotic serial killer, i know my day will be somewhat easier to digest.

26 hour transit: H is in KL

As usual my weekend has come and gone.

But the past weekend was much different than the ones before. First off one my mates from Melbourne happened to be in India for some training. And he had planned to make a pit stop in KL on his way home. Originally, he intended to stay for 6 days then it was down to 3 but then it ended that he'd only be staying for 1 night.

Which meant having to cram in as much as possible in such a short time frame.

I spent Friday night at home rearranging my clutter after one of the most stressful days at work. The combination of aftermath stress, exhaustion and anxiety of making sure my place was somewhat decent, i passed out some time around 4am. Only to have my alarm clock go off at 7.30am because i had to pick H up at KL Sentral. It so happened that Chook was able to pick me up last minute and we made our way there.

The combination of excitement and the lack of sleep eventually tired everyone out. So with H passed out on the couch and Chook seated by my dining table face down snoring, i figured i might as well catch up on some lost hours.

Having snuck in about 3 hours of nap time we eventually made our way to Bangsar Village and stuffed our faces at Delicious: Ms. Read. Which is where we spent the next few hours chit chatting about H's trip to India, life in general and everything in between. Our deep and meaningful conversation was no match to the thunder storm that was going on. But as serious as the conversation was getting, it was really good catching up and being with great company.

Llama Llama ended up joining us later and we spent a huge portion of the time laughing endlessly over silly sexual innuendos and it all started with a morning "Shake". [I'm sure whoever was eavesdropping must be wondering what was going on].

We soon found ourselves at 1U because H wanted to go to Top Shop to buy 'a certain something' for THE wife. So after walking in and out of stores and me being the temporary Fashion Advisory for the afternoon, H managed to sneak in some personal shopping. It didn't take long for the 3 guys and myself to call it quits. All of our feet were hurting and knowing that we still had a long night ahead of us we decided to head home.

A quick shower and change, i managed to transform my tomboy-i-just-got-out-of-bed look into a feminine-hello-boys outfit. And as H nicely put it... "... woooooh... you clean up gooOOod!" Even though it was only my typical jeans and black top, i'm guessing minus the afternoon's sweat and emphasizing the makeup, such things can do wonders.

After a quick feed and meet up with an ole' friend at Hartamas Square, we made our way to Zouk. Which was where we were meeting up with more people in honor of H's visit. Velvet was packed to the brim! I was constantly having to dodge lit cigarettes and as a result have my toes crushed a few times. But it so happened that Goatboi had forgotten about the dress code and was denied entry so we made our way up to Terrace and that's where we spent the rest of the night.

The night ended with a HUGE fight outside that involved a snatch thief and a whole bunch of people getting involved kicking the shit out of him. But that's only one part of the story apparently there was a string of events that happened prior to the arrest of the snatch thief. And it so happens that one of my friends was involved in the fight and had to get stitches.

It was totally drama and the full story has yet to be put together.

Xes and gang ended up taking H to have supper. I'm not accustomed to stuffing my face post drinking so Chook drove me home and i couldn't be happier to take off my heels.

By the time H got back he had about an hour plus to sleep before he had to leave and check-in. So he crashed on the sofa whilst Chook tried to get my wireless router to work but in the end failed. It wasn't long until both of them were passed out in my living room and i was sitting by myself. And because i was afraid that if i fell asleep too there could be a slight chance that we would ALL oversleep and then H would miss his flight.

So i stayed up and cruised online until it was 6.45am. I served as the human Wake Up call and ushered H to go get ready even though he grumbled about wanting to go back to sleep every other minute.

By the time we got to the ticketing office, i watched him attempt to look sober when talking to the ground staff and trying to upgrade his ticket to Business. And that was when it dawned on me that i was sad to see him go.

But i was so knackered from the past week that the only thoughts swimming in my head was how comfortable my bed is and if it were acceptable i would crawl into a corner and take a nap right there and then.

And although his visit was short and sweet, it was so good to see him and spend some quality time. Hopefully next time, K can come visit as well and they can stay longer than 26 hours.

Well hello there...

It's unlike me to not be long winded in my posts but i've had an action packed weekend and i have a valid reason...

One of my good mates from Melbourne was down for one night.

But until i've sorted out the pictures, inhaled my Veggie Galore minus onions and extra mushrooms large pizza and caught up with more sleep, i'll just have to leave you with this...

Get whaaa? Ghett OH.

So i didn't quite get into the whole "Ghetto bling bling schabang" outfit. As usual for situations like these i choose the next best thing = black top + jeans. I figured my once talked about PeepToeSlingBacks i purchased a few months back at my friends' store: Gossips, were rarely worn and deserved a night out.

However, they ARE an accident waiting to happen and having to walk on anything but carpet feels more like a balancing act on chopsticks.

But i was excited about what the night might have installed for me. It had been ages since i was out on a week day and i had nearly forgotten what it felt like to be temporarily granted a few inches in height. And being the eager beaver that i was, i chose to get ready super early and spent the next 3 hours wasting my time in front of the tv and watching random YouTube videos whilst Chook was at a company dinner.

By the time we arrived it was as if i had stepped onto unfamiliar grounds.

The entrance was littered with faces that looked much younger than i remembered. And as if i had walked into a marked territory, i suddenly felt out of place. But then again it had been at least 5 months since my last Ghetto Heaven visit. And although not a frequent Zouk clubber anymore, the usual pit stop prior to entering was to have a beer or two at Terrace Bar.

Both Chook and i had no idea who was ACTUALLY coming out. Back in the day it was usual to see the SAME faces week in and week out. But that night it seemed like none of our friends were in any mood to be out.

And even though BBoyBrian had managed to get us a table it seemed silly to hog it if it were only the two of us drinking. So without hesitation Chook gave the table away and it didn't take us very long to admit that we really couldn't be arsed to go inside either. So instead of booty shaking and lip synching to familiar tunes played over and over we opted to chill at Terrace for the whole evening with BBoyBrian and Mac.

And just like old times we ordered the famous "Cheesy Fries" that usually are accompanied with various dipping sauces. BBoyBrian has a habit of finding the ultimate cheese soaked chip and watching it drip down. And just how a child likes to play with his food, he flings the cheese around the chip mimicking a helicopter before shoving it into his mouth.

But as we drank our beers and chatted about random things it dawned on me that i much prefer sitting back having a few drinks with individuals whom i can have a conversation with rather than having my ear canal yelled at and me constantly having to say, "sorry... i didn't hear what you were saying" and trying my best not to smear bullets of sweat as they attempt to inch closer.

As they say, it's Quality NOT Quantity that makes the difference.

But then again, having started my intoxicated adventures down the clubbing scene from the puny age of 13, i can now say i've been there and done that. But Laziness continues to follow my shadow around and nothing gives me more pleasure than to hibernate and stay clear of crowds. More specifically those rude, obnoxious little wankers who think they're All That and a Bag of Chips!

Seriously, how hard is it to be polite and courteous to not only elders but to everyone. Yes! The world doesn't evolve around JUST you! [YOU: meaning nobody in particular].

Totally Ghetto

Maybe it's approaching that time of month or i am in fact going slightly nuts but i've decided that the consumption of adult beverages is my solution to release some stress. Having little or barely any contact with the outside world is starting to do my head in slightly.

And i can't believe i'm saying this but...

I WILL be making an appearance at the one place that i used to call home... Zouk KL.

It so happens that tonight is Ghetto Heaven's 3rd Anniversary and if my memory serves me right, one year ago i was there at the peak of my drinking frenzy. I even have photos to prove i wasn't always a hermit [here].

Taking a look back, it was the very club that Chook and i would be found at least 3 times a week drinking our troubles [and money] away! A time where practically EVERYONE thought we were together [and probably still do... ahhahah]...

HELLO! Is it not possible for 2 individuals of the opposite sex to be just good friends?

But tonight i've decided to store away my GAP slippers and will attempt to hoochie myself up [a little] and make an effort to paint on a smile.

Although i am very certain that the minute i walk in, i'll be swamped with little young bitches thinking they're all that strutting their stuff and flouncin' their titties around. I guess that's one of the main reasons why boys come running. But i'll have a chance to say HELLO to those i haven't seen in months and who knows what else.



But yea, i'm just looking forward to a NICE, COLD BEER followed up by some whiskey + water/green tea.... mmmMmmmmmm.

Soapy suds make it worth it.

I admit this post will be as, if not more exciting than the post i made about my black kidney shaped mug i bought at the RM5 store [here].

Apart from work stresses, my life now evolves predominantly around disposing of clusters of kitty litter presents from Satan's Spawn's depository hooded tray. Mmmm FUN! And whinging about how my clutter filled excuse of an apartment is forever in need of help.

So last night i thought, enough is enough i'm going to wash up!

After all it was only one saucepan, a sieve, 2 cups, a glass, a plate and a bunch of cutlery. Perhaps i had chosen to be a cheap arse and buy the cheapest dish washing soap on the shelf and that is the reason why the liquid soap refuses to create enough suds that convinces me that my dishes are free from grease/dirt.

And although i don't consider myself brand conscious, i still ripped the plastic wraparound off the bottle, simply because it looked ugly. And not because i expected it to be used as an art piece but i didn't want it to be the main focus the second i approached the sink and plus [see Above reason].

Then AnBloodyMumNohMore came up with this superb rationalization of How to Tell the Difference between a seriously soapy/sudsy liquid dish washing detergent.

"The tall and skinny bottles are the cheap ones. But the short and fat ones are the good ones and are usually more expensive".

Oddly it sort of makes sense.

And sure enough a trip down to the Village Grocer i was presented with shelves full of multi-coloured liquids ranging from RM2.99 to RM32! Yes this is liquid that will just end up down the drain the minute i pour out of the bottle.

I contemplated between Brand X which was a ridiculous RM18.90 versus BIOCARE: Dishes Concentrate. A biodegradeable and environmentally friendly dishing washing liquid soap which was RM5.99. And although i am not a VERY environmentally tree hugging kind of person, the fact that it's environmentally conscious did steer me towards it. PLUS the packaging is somewhat minimal and it's not like i have to wash after an army!

So being the bored yet easily amused being that i am, i came back to the office and tested it out with my dirty mug and whatever dishes was lying in the sink at the time.

CONCLUSION: It does create suds but no where near the lather that i am after. But then again, i blame the "...minimal impact on environment" sign off. And like typical detergents it has that lemony scent but it doesn't linger on your dishes post washing.

I haven't tested out the grease factor yet but i guess it'll do for now. Which reminds me, i still have to wash my dishes after i cooked dinner last night. ooOOoooer fun fun! Seriously, how sad is that!

Freaky Salad Fingers

I stumbled upon a link that one of the members had posted up in a forum i frequently visit. At first i thought it would be another excuse for animated waste of space but never mind, i still clicked on the link.

After watching the first episode my initial thoughts were, "OMG that's reaaaaally... quite strange." But for some odd reason i found myself clicking on "Next Episode".

Click HERE to view Salad Fingers episodes OR visit www.fat-pie.com

Toes Schmoes...

After coming home close to midnight and working together with 2 other designers to print, spray mount on Art Card and collate at least 60 logos along side the several dozen A3 boards, i came home exhausted.

It wasn't long until i had to excuse myself from a MSN conversation because my brain wasn't thinking straight. For some stupid reason, i still kept thinking about the logos and thinking of ways i could have made them better or give other alternatives. I guess that's one of the downfalls of being a Creative person, one tends to over think it and it's forever embedded in the walls of ones brain.

After realising that i needed sleep and the dodgy late night teeny bopper series was of no interest to me, i headed to bed. As i lay there motionless staring into nothingness i could still hear the tv and if only my apartment was equipped with The Clapper i wouldn't have to haul arse out of bed to switch everything off.

Within seconds of switching off my bedside table light i was out cold.

I soon entered a world bursting with colour laced with a multitude of twisted emotions. Often so real that i can't help but think my waking hours are so mundane in comparison.

...

I was standing in my parents kitchen [although out of the past 27 years of existence i have no recollection of them owning such a house with such a design] but as the brain proves that it is able to configure practically anything out of nothing, i didn't feel out of place. With modern fixtures and a common yellow theme throughout the kitchen, the windows seemed to only emphasize the vast amount of space. A space that could easily house an extended family.

Much like MTV Cribs when they show a superstar's fridge as a MUST SEE, i stand before this huge fridge to take a sneak peak at its contents. I am apparently been asked to make soup.

Soup? And as if i'm in some game show i'm only limited to what is in the fridge. I come across a vegetable that looks more like it's been ripped out of the jungle with roots and foliage still attached. I'm told if you strip the leaves the flower inside can be dissected. At which point in my dream i am fascinated that such a plant even exists and want to examine its family tree. When in reality i'm thinking... WHAT THE FUCK? Hurry up and make soup already!

Which is when my dream somehow transforms itself and i'm lying on this day bed. There's a male figure at the foot of the bed who looks familiar with boyish features. It seems as if we know each other and i feel at ease with him.

As if the conversation needed some spicing up because "just talking" is so common, i allow him to do some reflexology on my feet. And like magic our innocent conversation leads him to expose his top half. [At which point i'm thinking... WELL HELLO THERE!] I'm watching his slightly tanned, well defined muscles in his shoulders and chest flex with every movement. I can only assume this male person is in fact my partner and not some paid service!

It continues to get slightly more X-rated... of course.

And i soon find out he has more than a foot fetish and like a crazed beast he tries to literally bite my toes off! Strangely, i don't fight back and as if being toe-less is part of the whole game i let this animal behavior continue. It is as if i am some dominatrix allowing him to devour my feet knowing very well that such actions will have dire consequences and will lead to some serious punishment.

...

And then my eyes spring open the second the Devils' Spawn's bigger-than-rice-grain teeth takes a nibble on my left foot.

Miss Stress played with alphabets last night.

I managed to get another 14 variations done before my spine screamed mercy and my eyelids tried to fuse itself shut. Determined to get as many done before i fell asleep i continued on working at home.

I was only distracted by the tv for the first hour and i took time out to fold the towels that hung dry on the clothes rack, purely because they were blocking my view. But i did manage to stay somewhat focused *pats own back*.

Then i thought to myself the feng shui energy must be so confused when it comes to my doorstep. There is no wonder that i'm not getting in on any action! The energy can't bloody find me in all this mess! Seriously sometimes i wish sex came in the form of a pill and it was as easy as dipping your hand into a jar. I would proudly display them in the kitchen and have them plotted in air tight containers in every nook and cranny for those just in case moments.

I was MISS STRESS TO THE MAXIMUS last night and was super frustrated not only with work.

Reality hit and my attention turned to other matters. I sat at my dining table irritated that MY dishes that I left unwashed was sitting in MY sink but i couldn't be bothered to tidy up and left it. My clothes remain folded on my couch and as much as i wished they would walk themselves into my cupboard like obedient soldiers, i continued to stare at them taking up half of my couch as if they were on display in a flea market. I seriously wish i had a walk in closet.

CORRECTION: I WISH my place would be forever tidy and picture perfect.

OH WELL. I guess all the hard work, bitching and moaning paid off because upon arriving into the office i receive an email and my boss has picked 8 out the 14 that i've done. So that bunch gets pooled into my collection and i've got another 4 to go.

ONLY 4 MORE TO GO!

Churning 'em out

I am so stressed i could literally throw up!

Since i've walked in the office this morning i've taken 2 breaks. One to run across the road to get a concoction of rice and a mixture of random non-meat products. Of which i practically shoved down my throat in record time. Then the next was to attend to my nicotine habit and consumption only minutes before.

I've been spewing out logo variations out of my arse like there's no tomorrow. And that's not even the best part, i have to come with 2 more variations for one, another 2 for another AND my boss wants me to help out the other designer by instructing me to come up with another 4 for hers.

So that's 8 more logos i have to come up with by tomorrow. In total i'll have 16 different kinds!

My boss has left on a business trip just now and is expecting us to .jpg him our progress between now and tomorrow. With the benefit of being able to connect to the internet via his PDA he will be able to pick the chosen ones [hopefully].

THEN have all 16 logos ready for him to pick up first thing on Wednesday morning so he can present to the client along with the other 20 logos done by the other 2 designers.

Seriously, i can feel the pressure oozing out of my finger tips. I can feel every muscle in my back tense up like a deformed pretzel!

I want to pass out [NOW]. Why couldn't i have chosen to be in a 9 to 5 job that consists of minimal stress levels and a field not prone to heart attacks and burn outs.
.
.
.
But i have to get back to work... BREAK TIME IS OVER! I can already feel myself age with stress.

A slow death triggered thoughts of the future.

I had good intentions of waking up early and attempt to one day be a very good house wife [should i be so lucky];

1. do the dishes,
2. chuck clothes in the washing machine,
3. vacuum the floor,
4. water [my already dying] plants,
5. take out the rubbish,
   
6. make myself a hearty breakfast to fuel me through the day.

More useless information for you to feed on:
I woke up after lunch only to find out that i was down to one 3-in-1 coffee packet. Yes, my laziness proves that i can't be bothered to even scoop out coffee from a jar and then follow it up by a spoonful of sugar. Similar to that concept of 'Why Stand, When You Can Sit', i like to think 'Why Mix, When You Can Just Stir'.

I was running out of clean towels and noticed the dirty ones still sitting crumpled in my laundry bag from the weeks before. My washing machine has been running practically all day and my living room resembles a 2nd hand warehouse with clothes hanging from one chair to another. Which reminds me my king size doona cover is in need for a change.

I would seriously fail as a housekeeper.

Distracted by even the smallest thing and finding every bit of excuse to avoid doing what i am meant to do is how my Sunday went.

And despite knowing that i have a deadline due tomorrow, i spent a portion of today passed out on my half made bed. I later found myself chasing my cat around so he wouldn't swallow the wasp that would eventually meet his slow death by a late night impromptu fumigation. The buzzing echoed from behind the framed picture not because i couldn't find the source but because i feared that the wasp would retaliate and sting me... so i left it to die.

Yes, it was cruel but i didn't want to risk being stung and knocking myself out and only to wake up a few days later with a starving cat gnawing on my bloated body. [OK slight exaggeration there but hey, it makes a good visual... ehehe].

Sometimes i wonder, if it's this much trouble caring for ONE, i can't imagine what it would be like taking care of another being. I can foresee my ad in the Singles' over 40 column decorated with cute hearts in hope of snagging a toy boy to care for my wrinkled arse. With surgical tape attached to my double chin to keep it taut and laugh lines that scream for more collagen. But in reality, all it does is scream DESPERATION and entice stalkers and molesters to track me down. Oh gawd!

In all honesty, i don't know what i want and i'm in no rush to settle down. In fact, all that 'grown up schtuff' freaks me out. I am so glad that women in this day in age are choosing to marry later and that it's OK to have a career rather than be barefoot, pregnant and slaving away in the kitchen.

I'd like to think i live my life as an Organised Mess and although some may see it as a flaw, i think it makes me slightly more... interesting [so i like to tell myself . But it probably explains why i'm very much still single]... ehhehe.

Lazy is, what Lazy does...

The benefits of having no plans or appointments to meet means it wasn't hard for me to spend all day in bed. Much needed rest meant that i skipped breakfast and lunch. Plus wasting my day indoors meant i wasn't tempted to spend money on useless things. My list of errands continue to add up and my bills continue to stare at me.

I can't say i did very much today. I saw daylight creep from under my bedroom curtains for approximately a few seconds. That was because my internal body clock woke me up and for a few moments i thought i was going to be late for work.

Once i figured out that it was in fact the weekend, i crawled out of bed only to lock kitty outside my bedroom to prevent him from knocking over anymore bottles on my dressing table. I soon found myself face down onto my pillow and falling into a deep sleep only to be woken up by the sky grumbling and the rain pounding down on my window.

I love falling asleep to the sound of rain falling. All that was missing [for that moment] was a warm body to cuddle up next to. But that moment had passed and it wasn't long until day turned into night. Which was around the time when my brain whispered that it was time to be medicated.

... And then everything was back to 'normal'.

Seriously, i have no issues with spending quality time on my own doing absolutely nothing. Don't be surprised if one day you see me rotting in the corner because i can't be arsed to move.

In fact, i'm tempted to crawl back into bed. Why? Because i can and i am the definition of Super Lazy.

Planet Unicorn 2... Heyyy

So i receive an email from my writer to watch Planet Unicorn. So i'm thinking, great it's some "My Little Pony" revival moment and soon i'll receive a Care Bears link.

Within seconds of logging into Youtube i'm giggling away at it's stupidity and overall gayness. But then to find out there is a part 2 and that leaves me pissin' myself with laughter whilst my boss looks at me wondering why i'm laughing hysterically behind my screen.

So i just thought i'd share. Ok maybe some of you may think it's not so funny but it sure beats reading any depressing shit. And yes my sense of humor is slightly twisted.

LOL @ "Give it up for Feathers..." and Cadillac's accent!

Brought to you by the Number 13.

Paraskevidekatriaphobics is the term used to describe those who have a fear of 'Friday the 13th'. Some will agree this day is stricken with bad luck and that the number itself spells misfortunes. A superstition that started in the early 1900s and somehow stretched itself to this day.

Although i don't consider myself THAT superstitious, i will take note if an office block or apartment building has no Level 13. And should there be a Friday the 13th i will be more aware of my actions and be slightly more cautious, maybe it's out of habit.

Here's a story for you:
Maybe it's because back when i was 11 or 12 years old some drama unfolded and some how associate bad timing/luck to this fateful day. A time when school dances was at its' height of excitement in my life and that theme parties was an excuse to go shopping. A stage when girls would tower over the boys because the guys hadn't gone through their growth spurt yet.

Yes, once upon a time i wasn't considered that short for my age.

The idea of a slow dance was a couple standing face to face slowly rotating like a kebab stand and rocking side to side to the beat of the music. It was where the popular girls would be constantly on the dance floor and eager boys would have to take turns to dance with the 'it' girl.

Back then i was very shy, one would say unnoticed. Not considered the popular one but more like a sheep that hung around girls that made the boys drool because they were able to fill a cup size. But i remember sitting with my back against the wall watching my 'friend' play fight with another boy because she was playing hard to get [when in reality, i know she was just flirting and liked the attention].

Both creatures beautiful [in my eyes] and projected a confidence that i only dreamed of. And within a few seconds of looking up in anticipation whether she would agree to a slow dance, my night had ended prematurely.

My friend had leaned against the huge glass framed world map that hung above my head and it slid down at least 4 feet and landed edge first on the pinnacle of my coconut head!

At the time it wasn't so much the pain but the embarrassment of having everyone crowd around me while i sat motionless. Then to have the head teacher inform my parents and whisk me away to the hospital with an ice pack fused to my head because i had grown an instant lump [imagine a cartoon character but the only thing missing were birds flying in unison] and then to have my skull scanned to check for any damage.

Perhaps it was a coincidence that fate had led me to the wrong place at the wrong time. Or it could be that i was in fact struck with incredible bad luck and is an example of what 'Friday the 13th' can do.

But one could look at it from another perspective which served as a warning that i shouldn't shy away and spend the whole night sitting on my lazy arse.

Hmmm... words of wisdom for the start of yet another one of my no-expectations or planned weekends.

Four out of Forty-four...

Is the number of logos that the client preferred.

Not necessarily the chosen ones but it just gives me an idea of what exactly they are looking for. So yea that's kind of shit but oh well. So now i have to spew out a bunch more by Monday and hope that i'm on the right track and so my boss can pick and choose what to present. Which isn't a hell of a lot of time but it's better than having it due tomorrow which was my initial thought.

So apart from being slightly relieved that at least i have SOME direction, my brain is slightly numb. I refuse to do anymore work tonight and i can't even be arsed to cook anything right now because i'm lazy.

Plus i forgot to get MYSELF ingredients at the supermarket even though i managed to buy my cat his food. So instead i look forward to inhaling my pizza, veg out on my couch and watch some mindless sitcoms.

And there will be no Ghetto Heaven tonight nor will there will be any hoochiness out on the prowl. [Although the thought of pashing some random hotness and feeling slightly wanted by the opposite sex is definitely inviting].

But seriously as much as i wouldn't mind getting involved in a no-strings attached situation, i am honestly too chicken shit to get involved with a complete stranger. Perhaps i should browse through my little black book and look up some numbers and see who wants to play! HA! But at the rate that people are hooking up with one another, i have to start canceling names out.

I'm joking... There is no black book and there are no more numbers... anymore.

...

As you can tell my life is totally bursting with fruit flavor because as you can see i enjoy having conversations with myself and even answering back. Isn't it great that my life evolves around my kitty litter? Damn right, it's fantabulous!

Missing: Job title.

After a very long day in the office, i return not too long ago only to be welcomed by a screaming feline demanding attention and his share of Friskies. With a quick chit chat and refill, i'm into the shower only to have my thoughts flooded with unnecessary rubbish.

And all i can think about is why has Creativity decided to disappear on me once again.

For some reason whenever my ideas get rejected or when my designs are nothing more than meaningless waste of space, i feel like i've failed not only as a designer but it rips away my confidence.

So much so that my boss has had to rope in a fellow designer to help me out after my meeting today. Which of course i am very grateful for her taking time out to help. [THANKS AnBloodyMumNohMore]. But it's as if i am not capable of doing my job and need saving.

Maybe i do need saving. Sometimes i think i'm not cut out to be a so-called "designer" and i could be better off being a shop assistant that irritates customers by following them around the shop because i'm paranoid they'll steal something. Nah... maybe not. I think customers will take one look at me and think 'i' am the one shop lifting.

But seriously, i'm working against a tight deadline and having to choose a suitable typeface, tweaking, rearranging and using various techniques so it best suits the overall essence of the project is not as simple as smacking down a default font.

It's as if i have to live, breathe and BE THE [**insert name of identity**]!

I try to remind myself that 4 years of training to get a degree is the reason why i have a job to begin with. And with a mere 4 years plus of work experience under my belt, one would think i would be used to the pressure. But each time i get myself in a situation where i question my abilities, i can't help but feel like shit.

I know everyone has their bad days and i've got so much to learn but i just can't help but feel like i'm not worthy of my title. It's moments like these i wish i'd come home to a significant other and have a share of that thing that people call LOVE.

I don't deny it... i miss it. I miss having a someone in my life. Sigh... it's lonely being single sometimes. Oh well fuck it... i'm in no position to whinge and moan, i've got more important things to deal with.

So after spending the whole day in the office and being the last to leave, all i have is an A3 page full of various logo directions. So far out of 20, there is hope for 2.

I just hope i wake up REALLY early tomorrow so i can get my arse to work because i have an internal review before lunch with my boss and the other designers [who are also struggling with the other identities and they too are getting help from the other senior designers].

I foresee a stressful day coming up and my brain hurts just thinking about it.

Preparations for a Come back is in order.

It's already mid week and i've been heaps busy trying to churn out as many identity options for a property job i'm working on. And by the time i get home, i'm so exhausted that the thought of staring at my computer screen any longer would not only further damage my retinas but the thought of slouching can't be good for my posture.

So until something dramatic happens or i have something interesting going on in my life, i don't have that much free time to ramble on. OH WAIT... YES I DO...

INSERT GREAT NEWS: Hard Sequence is back on track!

Was informed yesterday that Da Boss has found us a venue and that there'll be 2 events in May! So now my job is to get in touch with the promoters and see if they're still interested in promoting for HS. Then unleash the Pimpstress and get the kiddies motivated and fired up.

Question i want to know is, is she still alive?

Shit... which reminds me i have to get crackin' on writing the copy for the e-flyer, then send it to Supastar so he can create something fantabulous.

Busy... busy... busy.

Easter weekend: To be continued...

My weekend was great! It was totally unplanned and best of all unexpected! It was really good to see everyone and the many others whom i haven't seen in yonks!

But i can't be arsed to write a detailed summary about my weekend now because I'm super tired. So until i've collected my thoughts and am able to regurgitate my words, you'll have to settle for this instead.

And let me tell you, it took me practically ALL day to sort out since i had to sieve through a whopping 300 photos and that was ONLY between Saturday and Sunday! I admit, i'm a bit of a Happy Snappy Tourist when it comes to my camera.

To view the full set of images, you can visit my flickr: Venturing Out into Another Zone.

Venturing outside into another zone.

I've decided to crawl out of my shell and make an effort to venture outside the comfort of my four walls. Apparently everyone [and their dog - no offense] is going to the Speedzone event tonight.

My previous agency is organising it, so i might just see some ex colleagues. Maybe it'll get me out of this anti-social funk that i'm in. Instead of being cooped up and watching reruns and being the domesticated bunny that i had all planned out but have failed at.

But i did manage to vacuum and do part of my laundry this morning. So there is SOME progress in the domesticating department. Not a hell of a lot but a little.

So for those of you who were wondering whether i'll be making an appearance tonight, my answer is...

Yea why not?

Oh look... it's the weekend.

It's Friday night, well technically it's Saturday morning and i'm sitting by my overly crowded dining table spending the evening cruising online. I am half heartedly watching a rerun of Monster-in-law on HBO just to pass time.

I tried to pass out earlier but my back is super itchy! Yes, one of the dreaded fallbacks of having a healing tatt. Last night i kept waking up wanting to grab the nearest sharp object and scrape my flesh. But as you know, that is a complete SIN to even come close to scratching the surface when it comes to caring for new ink.

I have visions of Baloo in Jungle Book, in the scene when his back was itchy and how he relieved his itch by rubbing his back against a palm tree. If it were acceptable or even hygienic, i'd borrow Smook's scratching post and use it as a loofah! OH how divine!

So my only time of quick relief is when i rub the moisturizer in after my shower which tends to last much longer than usual, slap my back continuously or rub my finger tips lightly over my covered back.

OH I CAN'T WAIT FOR IT TO HEAL!!!

...

Anne Savage is playing at Ruums tonight and guess where i'm at? H.O.M.E. One part of me says i should be out, seeing that it is Friday night and the start of the F1 weekend but for some reason, the i-can't-be-arsed mode has kicked in.

Plus Yoji is playing at an event tomorrow. i'm tempted to go but i'm only interested to see his set. But knowing that it'll end before 3am... it doesn't exactly scream FUCK YEAH! And i'm sure his set will only be an hour and a half. With a limited capacity and tickets being sold at the door it doesn't look too promising. Knowing my luck i'll arrive and it'll be so packed or better still, tickets will be sold out and i'll wish i was sitting back in the car or vegging out on my couch. It's a no win situation.

I remember there was a time when i couldn't wait for the weekend. I'm not sure whether it's just me being anti-social and/or that i don't really have very much in common with people i used to hang out with. That's not to say i don't miss them... I do.

Maybe i just haven't found my groove... yet. Maybe i've misplaced it or it's run away.

I guess they could argue that it is my choice not to call and/or ask what their plans are. Then somehow include myself in their plans like a lost bitch trying to fit in and tagging along. But then again, unless i have my string of adult beverages to accompany me, there is a high chance of finding myself seated in the middle of a conversation that i cannot comprehend because of a language barrier and feeling very much like an outsider because i don't speak their dialect.

It's strange.

I can't emphasise how frustrating it is not being able to understand another language. Sometimes i wish i was bilingual. It would make things so much easier not only for my social life but career too. With my twisted American/Aussie/British twang of an accent, i wonder how i would sound speaking Mandarin... *thinks* ... Pretty damn funny i think.... ahhahah.

So maybe, i'm doing myself a favor.

Not only am i saving my wallet and liver from more damage but looking at the positive side of it, i can parade around in the comfort of my home with fucked up hair and flounce around in my girl boxers and skimpy singlet.

Bass Agents: Website relaunched!

www.bassagents.com

Suicide Girls intrigue me.

I can't stop browsing. It's almost border line of an obsession. Not so much perving on the female body [ok maybe a little] but everything about the girls are intriguing. Their choice in ink, their style, their piercings and of course it does help that majority of them are attractive.

Maybe... one day when i grow up i'll join the ranks of being a Suicide Girl. HA!

Back in high school, i was the girl that changed in the cubicles. I was the one that secretly stared at my friend wondering why i wasn't as well endowed as her. Wondering why my top looked so much better on her. The shortest of the lot and always the one wearing heels hoping that extra inch or two would make me more appealing.

Back in the day i involved myself in extra curricular activities during and after school; Dance, Drama, Swimming, Tennis, Basketball. YES, you read correctly... i was on the Junior Varsity basketball team. Which probably explains why my calves are more prominent than most girls.

And as time moved on, i gave up on the sports. I can barely run on a treadmill let alone run up and down a court. My daily exercise involves walking up 2 flights of stairs to my apartment and walking up to the second floor to my office. And depending on work load and stress level, i will make that trip up and down more frequently for a cigarette break.

But my colleagues managed to grab a 2 week free pass to the new Celebrity Fitness in Bangsar Village 2 and apparently we have all agreed to try out the gym. So once my tattoo has healed and i can handle my t-shirt rubbing up against my back, i'll occupy some of my time sweating more than usual and in return tone up.

Who knows, i may meet some "interesting" people by the water cooler.

My world is changing...

I was going to write about an article i found online, about the misconceptions of tattoos and what my views are towards getting inked... but i can't be arsed to get my head around it, so that post will have to wait.

For some reason my words aren't stringing together properly today. So i'll have to wait a little longer until i gather my thoughts and instead i'll ramble on about what's swimming amongst my thoughts.

Lately, i've started to realise a slight change in myself.

Not so much physical [as any modification to my appearance does not count] but a change of attitude and a deeper appreciation for things. I've read about how when people get oldER they get to a point in their lives where they take a step back and try to make sense of the chaos that surrounds them.

I look at myself [figuratively speaking obviously] and although i am pretty much the same girl that everyone thinks they know, the only difference is, like a prisoner, i find myself wondering what lies behind the guarded wall. With a better grasp on my health [which somehow shook me awake] has forced me to realise what is important in my life.

It's as if there was a party going on in my head and one by one the guests are leaving and i'm left cleaning up the mess and sorting out the damage.

With a work permit and a full-time job keeping me stationery, i can't help but think that the life i choose to lead is quite opposite to what others perceive of me. Things that used to excite me months ago aren't on the top of my To Do list. In fact, i've become quite anti-social lately. And to be honest, i'm not quite sure why but you know what, i'm not too bothered and i don't think they are either.

I look up to mentally strong women and envy their confidence and their unique style, maybe wishing that i too could project such aura. Which is strange because a friend once said, "... i like your style". I laughed and my response was, "... but i'm the off-the-rack kind of girl". I only recently injected costume jewellery ie. necklaces to my daily outfits.

How come i can't see what people see?

Perhaps i portray myself as something else. Those cookie cut smiles that you see is what i want people to remember me by. And when asked that all too familiar question, "How are you?" It's easier to respond with "i'm good, how are you?" rather than listing the many issues that plague ones' thoughts. Sometimes i wonder whether that's just a cue for them to talk about themselves.

And so i let them.

I realised nobody likes to hear sad stories and it's that superficial happy-go-lucky attitude that lures people in. But the minute you opt to go deeper, you open yourself to being emotionally involved. And like creating layouts, the K.I.S.S [Keep It Simple Stupid] theory fits pefectly.

I'm slowly coming to accept that i'm NOT like everyone else particularly girls and trying to be like anyone else would be an insult. But at the same time, i'm very much in the same boat like many others, in search of something else. So in fact, i really am like most people.

Hmmm.

Alternating positions and sleeping solo.

So far i haven't had any trouble with the healing process *knocks on wood*. The process of applying the ROSKEN Skin Repair cream requires a little stretching and twisting especially for those hard to reach sections. I'd like to think those Yoga/Pilates days are responsible for my ability to contort my body.

During the initial stage of healing, i would agree that it's acceptable for women to run around topless. Not because my inner exhibitionist wants to be released but having fabric touching the newly inked surface is like having a bad sunburn and sandpaper rubbing up against it. Not so pleasant.

My first night, i spent lying face down and alternating between the log and the fetal position. It's these kinds of moments that i'm grateful i was blessed with breasts that teenagers rave about when they're struggling through puberty.

And if you've ever had a sunburn, you'll know that as you turn to the other side, it feels like your flesh is being stretched. It's not painful only slightly uncomfortable. Honestly, it just requires some getting used to. And in no time the top layer will shed much like a snake and eventually reveal fresh, shiny coloured flesh where the pigment has been injected.

But it's only Day 3 and i've got another week or so till i get to that stage. So patience is the key and opting for a top that is the softest cotton will minimize the 'itch' effect. Plus keeping yourself distracted that way you don't think about it too much.

Oh and should you be so lucky as to share a bed with your partner or someone you are affectionate towards, have a looksy what it says about your relationship based on how the both of you sleep [click here].

Not quite half but it's better than nothing.

Every month i have a scheduled appointment to see my shrink. A time where i get to summarise what i've been up to in as little or as much detail as i choose. It's not the typical scene that you see in Hollywood movies or sitcoms where the patient lies on a reclining chair and the psychiatrist asks various questions to trigger the psyche to come up with all sorts of information then scribbles his chicken scratchings on an A4 piece of paper.

My visits are usually very casual and i just update her how my mental state has been treating me whilst she scratches her pen in my blue file. A file that contains sheets of A4 notes that i try to read upside down but can never understand. And today after only half an hour i'm already out the door waiting for the cashier to swipe my card and add another RM444.82 to my monthly bill.

I was looking forward to this session, hoping that she would say i could have my medication halved.

I confessed that there are certain days that i forget to take my meds but usually the next day i remember, only because my brain starts to act up and a sensation that can't be compared to anything else but a weird brain jolt that you eventually get used to but a great indicator.

Which is when i usually remember... "OH shit... i forgot... again".

Previously she tried to lower my dosage down to 75mg and i think that was about 6 months ago but i didn't respond very well to that. With constant thoughts dipping down the Valley of Death, i was a complete wreck. She was quick to get me back up to 150mg. [Which was a bit of a disappointment on my side but a HUGE relief].

There are some days that i honestly forget and can go without my meds for a day. So instead of my daily 150mg, she has asked me to alternate my days. The schedule i am "supposed" to keep to is 75mg one day and then 150mg the next. And if after 5 weeks everything goes well and there's no complications then she can officially half my dosage.

So to keep it simple:
Monday, Wednesday, Friday = 75mg
Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, Sunday = 150mg.

Yay for me!

Although it's not quite half but more like a third or two-thirds of my initial dosage, i'm still relieved. And when i asked when she thinks i'll be able to get off the medication, she estimates by the end of year.

[As of May this year, it will be 2 years that i've had this love-hate relationship with Effexor-XR].

A Mother and Daughter conversation.

So i made my weekly phone call to my mother last night, a time to update one another about our lives and for her to check up on my mental status. As i'm sure most mothers out there will agree that they have some secret homing device otherwise known as 'motherly instinct' should there be anything wrong with their child. It must be the tone of my voice since that is usually the biggest give away.

I had just returned home from the tattoo shop and i still had the cling wrap attached to my back. Satan's spawn had just woken up and with his super sonic hearing could hear the crinkle of the medical tape and cling wrap against my singlet. His chit chatter got louder and louder as i continued to speak with my mom. I think he thought i was talking to him and i had to excuse myself just so he would stop.

Then after asking her how she was and if everything was alright, she returned the question and asked me how my day was. Which was when i busted out with, "I've been good. Oh and by the way i got a tattoo... eehhee hee"

"Another one?" Which was then followed with an extended pronunciation of my name as if she meant to say, OH GOD NOT AGAIN.

And with an ounce of worry in her tone she asks, "Where?" And seeing that both my parents agree that the tattoo on the under side of my forearm looks "classy" they feel any additional work on it would lose it's elegance.

She continued with, "Please Chriiiiiiis, not so many tattoos". I think she worries that if i have so many visible tattoos, i won't find a suitable companion and that my tattoos will in fact scare any potential suiters and give them the wrong idea. Clearly, if they judge a book by its' cover they won't go far. I don't think i'm a very scary person.

I replied with, "It's on my back, don't worry". I didn't of course tell her what it was or the size but i imagine she's picturing something small like a little flower or something. I then continue with, "...but it's my 2nd part to my birthday present to myself".

And before she could dive into anymore questions, i quickly changed the topic and that was the end of that. *smiles* But i reckon she'll like it.

I clearly remember when my sister got her first tattoo, my mom's initial response was, "go to the bathroom and wash it off". Hoping that it was temporary and that her first born wouldn't be branded for life. That of course didn't stop there since she continued to ink herself.

And i think deep down my mother hoped that her youngest daughter would keep to the piercings [although she was convinced after my second hole in my ear would be the last] and that i wouldn't even consider getting a tattoo.

She was wrong.

But like with every new piercing or ink i get done, she takes one glance and just smiles. And when it comes to things like that, i think our parents have just come to the point where they just can't say anything anymore because they know we'll just go ahead and do it anyway. I guess they trust our judgments and at the end of the day, it is our body. It's not like we've turned out to be serial killers or have harmed anyone in the process.

I think we turned out alright.

Got Inked!

"It'll take roughly 5 hours maximum but it can take 3 hours IF everything goes smoothly..."

In other words, DO NOT move.

...

I moved. Hence the reason why it took 4 and a half hours [which includes 2 cigarette breaks in between].

With my right leg voluntarily twitching every now and then meant that each fine line that got slightly blotched would need to be retouched. Apparently because of the thin lines it required full concentration and ANY movement would affect the end results.

I had trouble keeping still when he went over my shoulder blades and near the top of my shoulders. I couldn't help but flinch and for some reason that area was extremely sensitive. It's moments like those that i wish i had more fat on my back! With only a thin layer of skin covering my bones, i could feel the vibration eat through my shoulder blade into my marrow. OK i lied, it wasn't that bad but it definitely was very uncomfortable at some points.

By the time it hit the 3 hour mark my back was starting to hurt even though i was lying flat. I can only imagine how Water's back felt as he tried his best to keep the lines as smooth as possible.

At one point i had my iPod on just so i could distract myself. I chanted "THINK HAPPY THOUGHTS" over and over. I even tried to think of random topics ranging from sex, past raves to my time in Melbourne.

At one point i looked up and because the blinds were open, i saw a bunch of boys peering inside happily eating their peanuts, as if i were some freak show. I put my head down, closed my eyes and tried to float along the tunes blaring through my headphones.

Eventually my pain threshold caved and after 4 hours i was already putting pressure on the bar below the flat bed that i was lying on. As he continued to shade areas over a boney section it resembled a sharp pin being jabbed into my skin.

"Half an hour more... and then we're done!"

And let me tell you i was counting down the minutes in my head. Wishing that i had that extra helping of pasta the night before just so it could possibly buffer my skeleton. And then he finally said "Done!" and a gush of relief surged through my body and i was so excited to see the end results.

So in a month's time after it's healed, i'll return so Water can have a looksy and do any touch ups.

[Oh and before i forget, much thanks to Possom and MissSeniorPisces for dropping by and keeping me company during the initial stages and when i went for a smoke].