one week and i'm still sober

it's french open men final nadal vs federer now on super sports.

but here i am writing blog instead of following the match. you know, despite having waited the whole day for it.

the truth is, i can't bare to watch. i could have a heart attack. plus, i must stop all this swearings and cursings now otherwise i risk myself becoming an unpleasant person.

wait. ok federer just levelled the match one set to one.

damn.

well, worst comes to worst, it's their lives and not mine. so one will get the 1.3 millon dollars prize, and and the loser about half a million. big deal. i'd still have the same amount of money in my account tomorrow.

ok maybe less $15 to pay for this sports channel monthly subscription.

but still, gosh i hope nadal wins. at least i won't have the urge to chain the main door and pull my trigger tomorrow at work everytime anybody dare to bring up the result.

which they would. totally would. people just need to learn to keep things to themselves sometimes and see how harmonic the world would be. it would be plain boring, but at least it's peaceful.

my parents didn't say anything last week when they first saw my golden striked hair. man, i was scared shit when i went to pick them up at the bus stop. when i greeted them under the hot sun, which surely made my highlighted hair 10 times more obvious, i wished i were a tortoise so that i could pull my head in.

but then there were no comment. as if they thought i was born a blonde. it was a bit like heroes season finale when you anticipated that big blow up in new york city but in the end it never came true.

only that in my case, i never wished anybody to blow up. in fact, i'm grateful because i didn't have to go through the whole prepared reasoning speech.

i guess this is just a stage every parents must go through. 'out of hand children' phases. at least i coloured my hair. not taking drugs, kill people or anything. be grateful.

we attended the wedding ceremony of my father's cousin in tampines and punggol. i must say, i never expected the wedding ceremony here to be so eventful. there were so many performances, i felt like i was on a night out for a concert or something.

you know i never prefer those posh hotel wedding dinners. have you seen your colleagues' face when they were handed the red invitation card? it's like, 'oh no i'm invited. you're not? man, you're so lucky..'.

which truly is. i mean, how can you pray for any couple's long lasting love together when you have to spend late night at their wedding (most of the time during weekdays when you have to work the next day), being pinned to your prearranged seat with zero chance to interact with other people, eating from the mere mercy of the waiters and waitresses, and still being charged a fortune (hong bao) for it?

the only reason we do not curse for a divorce is that we are afraid they would marry again with other people and still invite us.

on the other hand, the wedding held in house blocks are more personal. you get to mingle around and bond between the two families. that's what the whole point is, right?

although i don't think i bonded with anybody that night but still, it was great fun. thanks for inviting me.

happy wedding day!!

now my parents are safely back in their hometown, leaving me alone and full of freedom again in between these stone walls.

which apparently also housed a badly molded kitchen cabinet. urghh. i accidentally discovered it while searching for the plunger underneath the sink. it was so bad that parts of the wood already turned black and fell apart.

man, that surely needs replacement. i can bet it's not cheap. oh this sucks. i use that kitchen like 5 times since i bought this place and it still breaks down. it's almost like no justice already in this world, we might as well pisses off the next person we see.

i don't even know who to call or where to go to get this fixed. add that with a couple of light points that are not working and water flowing too slowly down the drain in the bathroom and it's official i live in a cave. a damn expensive cave that takes my whole prime life to pay for, that is.

a cave with life threatening basement car park that is full with cars that can hit your accurately-inside-the-white-line still-with-a-price-tag beloved car at front, back and sides anytime of the day.

by the way, i just met the guy who hit my car few weeks ago. i was parking mine and he had just parked his hyundai matrix. now see who has the better parking skill, at least i didn't hit anybody.

he was polite as i had expected when he introduced himself. we just corresponded via sms last time so this was the first time we met face to face. i was eager actually to see who is this out-of-this-world responsible person. for all i know, he could be the reincarnation of mahatma gandhi or something.

turned out he's young and good looking too. i wonder that bitch in the front seat know what a good catch she had made.

ok i'm kidding! scratch that last sentence.

i guess i'm just jealous everytime i see a perfect guy. even one with horrible driving skills. i just have to be one. a perfect guy i mean. not one with horrible driving skills. though i don't mind having a horrible driving skills whilst being a perfect guy.

i'm blabbering. i better return to the match, so later..



...ed