'Twas But A Tweaketh of Mine Herte

zero: actually, i think i'm one of those nutheads that are oblivious to anyone liking me until someone holds a sign up in front of my face. so i remain completely oblivious to anyone's affections until his ardour fades off, then its like nothing ever happened.

sometimes i wonder why i torture myself and sign up for all sorts of humiliation. like volunteering to be in FOC creative com, digging my brains apart for a camp theme, frying myself to come up with a video script, and when no one wants to play the slutty bimbo chief concubine i end up being immortalized as the hysterically giggling thing onscreen.

then i end up an OGL, and i suffer acts of inhumanity like being held down and tossed into mud puddles, getting pelted by little toilet plungers shot from cheap plastic pistols, made to dance like a performing monkey for the amusement of the freshies and evil creatures by name of Ho Ze Fa, and not to mention having to sleep half frozen to death.

but nothing beats having to do costumes for Rag again this year. why was i so dumb to volunteer last year?! why did i feel sorry for the Rag team, and allow myself to be bullied into stitching pieces of cloth together to clothe the dancers? now i'm stuck with drawing thousands and thousands of lines, drafting patterns for costumes that can't be too revealing (sorry to break USP tradition) and yet versatile enough to be worn under another costume, and having to endure the fits and tantrums of a certain person.

i know i'll probably survive (but barely), and come out of Rag victoriously but blearily with my satin shirred frocks, handkerchief tops and wraparound skirts. i dont really want to think about the guys' costumes. i really dont want to.

then next year.

you'll probably see me at my sewing machine again, weeping at the weakness of my susceptible heart.

Ach, 'Tis Another One

i know i should stop with the "why do all my friends have boyfriends/girlfriends but not me?" nonsense but i regret to inform thee, dear and faithful readers, that this post would be just another whining rant about my current state of singlehood.

but the thing is, i'm happy with being single. as long as i have my brand OPs from MM and JSKs from BABY and everything that makes my heart tingle and my wallet jingle, as long as i have all the time to do what i love most, i can live with it. HELL i'd rather live like that than have some meddlesome boyfriend nagging at me for all the money i spend on my loli clothes, or being embarrassed to be seen with me in public because i'm in a frilly frock or whining that i spend too much time on my own than with him, etc etc.

i had a great time on Monday. i had a date with myself. i slept till noon, then went to the Cathay Picturehouse to catch a weepy art film ("The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros"), then went to the library at Jurong and borrowed a couple of books and had a nice quiet time reading. then i had a wonderful little dinner at Cafe Galilee in the library lobby, where it was totally quiet, and ate while i read Nabokov's Glory. then on the way home i had a nice soy ice-cream in a cone.

perfect date.

i love this life.

then i turn around, and i see one of my girl friends had hooked up with another of my guy friends, and these two people i know who used to chide and tease each other good humoredly are now intimately cuddling and holding hands and making my skin crawl at their lovey-doveyness.

and i wonder, will i end up a lonely old spinster cat lady, clad beautifully in Mary Magdalene, living in a one-room flat holding tea parties for herself?

or maybe i manage to go all the way to S. Korea, find Cho Jae-jin, beat him to submission then bring him back to be my personal love-slave.