The spots of vivid colours
Turn every page vinegrette
And make pale photos
Into high definition film
That remind me that
Such happiness
Can never be replicated
With anyone else.

But as 2011 is drawing to a close, I’m happy to say that I am ending it contented. Yes, my results released a few days ago were satisfactory, my Fyp groupings are settled, my bf is kind and loving, I just came back from a splendid holiday and I’m working at the company of my dreams.

But I think 2011 has taught me to see past circumstantial happiness. Rather, I’ve learned that happiness fluctuates but joy is finding that reason to smile even when life is crummy. I’ve had glimpses of that this year and it will be my resolution in 2012 to be joyful.

Who knows, it may even land me a BMW. (nudge heh nudge heh)

After I watched 2011′s Zeitgeist, I’m reminded that I’m really blessed to have made it through 2011 when so many people didn’t – that I have the luxury of an opinion and rights to fundamental living when people the world over needed to fight for it.

I will be happy with my circumstances in 2012 and learn to make the most of it.

And tadah! I was the man of the match Caught a monster whooper of a prawn that was the size of half my arm.

While we were cooking the prawns, I ran back to our spot to get some satay sticks and the bottom half of a broken ketchup bottle skewered through my lovely Havaiannas and punctured my foot.

T.T

So pain I tell you. I am extremely proud of myself for maintaining my cool.

Went on a hurried search for a clinic to get a Tetanus jab, cause God bless me, there was so much blood.

Really thankful for the best boyfriend ever who piggyback-ed me to see a doctor at 5am in the morning to get my jab, for supporting me every time I needed to use the bathroom, for making me tea and buying me bandages and food and for looking me the best that anyone has ever looked after me.

I think you are the best ‘day-we-met’ anniversary present that I can ever have.

I mean, how can work take precedence over you? Yeah, it gives you money, but put a stack of documents next to you as you sleep and see if it keeps you warm.

You know what, forget it. I have a lot on my plate without being the needy girlfriend.

I can don’t need you at all.

spoke too soon
too loud
too much out of turn
too brutally honest
too empowered by your sense/x/uality
too much of I, I, I, I –
I think
I know
I understand
I love
I, I, I, I.

But I love you for your
I, I, I, I,
pretty kampong girl from the little isle
who kicks sand in the eyes of those who stare
too hard at you — maybe that’s why they got mad
because they got thrashed by the
pretty kampong girl from the little isle;

no one talks about raunchy tales of those
kebaya-clad glamour girls,
behind-the-scenes groin-grabbing of those
in the goggle-box teams,
nocturnal routines of testosterone-driven
army-released hound dogs of boys in dorms.
You took the tabloids by the thorns
and wrote your life with your spilled blood but
they made you the scapegoat of
Nonsense and Insensibility,
called you witch, bitch, itch that plagued the
nation’s innocent minds,
and overnight, you became from a blossoming bouquet
to a faded pressed flower glued
to the margins of your page.

If you hadn’t called the book a
me-moi-r and had
filed it under fiction, you would have been given a prize
for amateurish, over-indulgent, creative invention
but they punished you for being
brash, rash, trash, a gash that gaped open the
mindset of middle-class prudence
and when they saw your red gash in the raw
they screamed “Vagina! Porn!”
From another angle, I thought that what you had drawn
was a broken heart sewn together by blood rocks
with pink new beginnings.

With a suitcase of disappointment and angry tears
you sailed away without saying “Goodbye”
and tried to start over a new life;
years passed, I grew up
and often wondered what happened to that
pretty kampong girl from the little isle
and one day, I saw, as all of us must have seen,
your name
on a list
amongst those who have turned
from flesh to ash
in the instant when the plane crashed.
No one knows what really happened
so they made the crocs the scapegoats
while passports, cards and cash were plundered
and you received instant posthumous forgiveness;
from the Whore of Babyloin you became
Saint Bonny, angel, misunderstood
pretty kampong girl from the little isle,
but I knew all along they were wrong;
you were a woman, then, I was a girl,
and drawing margins with a pencil
in my exercise book when they put you on the stake
and I read your tract in my room
with the door locked to the world
and my eyes locked to your words.

I am a woman now, Bonny, and was once also a
pretty kampong girl from a little isle.
I hold pens, men in my hand and a pencil
sharpened at both ends.
Your spirit in the breath I breathe,
I take in, daily, a woman’s chant, paint my face,
become warrior, live in the den of my own clan
and howl with grief for the mermaid princess
who couldn’t fit in,
whose time ran out,
and whose voice was incomprehensible
deaf-like dolphin shrieks –
she
who turned into bubbles in the risen air
with her unrequited heart.

We can’t choose the cards we’re dealt. If God has decided that an incident (good or bad) is to come, no amount of karma tissues can prevent or induce it.

Being the greedy and self-serving creatures that we are, we only want good things coming our way. After we get it, we forget it almost immediately. If the reverse happens, you end up whining and bitching about it for days.

Maybe all I need is to be reminded of how small I am. How small my problems are. How insignificant is a few pimples and a fat body compared to the bigger picture.

Maybe I just need to finally learn how to be totally comfortable in my skin and with who I am.

1. Preheat oven to 350°C.
2. Mix oil, sugar, eggs, vanilla until well-blended.
3. Mix all the dry ingredients separately.
4. Add dry ingredients to egg mixture.
5. Pour into 9″ x 13″ baking dish.
6. Bake for 30 minutes.

400g Canned apricots in fruit juice
450g Cooking apples, peeled and thickly sliced
100g Plain flour
85g Butter
50g Porridge oats
4 Tbsp Caster sugar
100g Chocolate chips

1. Lightly grease an oven proof dish with a little butter.
2. Drain apricots, reserving 4 tablespoons of the juice. Place the apples & apricots in the prepared ovenproof dish with the reserved apricot juice and toss to mix.
3. Sift the flour into a mixing bowl. Cut the butter into small cubes and rub in with your fingers until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Stir in the porridge oats, caster sugar and chocolate chips.
4. Sprinkle the crumble mixture over the apples & apricots and smooth the top roughly. Do not press the crumble down on the fruit
5. Bake in preheated oven. 180ºC/350ºF for 40-45 minutes or until the topping turns golden.

I just stay at home everyday in my own filth and watch reruns of Big Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother.

Seriously though, I actually don’t know where the time flies to.

I sleep at 4am, wake up at 1230pm, eat lunch, take a nap/surf the web, eat dinner, surf the web some more. Story of my holiday life.

I’ve been trying to get my brother to do calisthenics with me. That’s the most amount of exercise I do between lying on my bed or sitting in front of the computer. But I went to the gym the other day ok! Don’t judge me.

Barrage of photos during my stay in Brunei.

Brother 1

Brother 2

Home cooked meal of Chives Omelette and soba. It was total love.

Teh C Special. I miss this them most when I'm back in sg.

Hot plate noodles from Big Mama's Restaurant.

Unitek aka Pirates' Cove. Rows and levels of pirated DVD. Customer service here is excellent.

Even their plastic bag is pirated.

Kolomee. Another dish I miss alot.

Random monument at Bandar.

Family bonding! Watching Top Chef Masters

Apple Crumble.

Just about to pop it into the oven.

Met up with my hommies. Changing their lives with Monopoly Deal.

She loves Beiber.

That tree looks purdy scary.

Tried making brownies. #Epicfail. Going to try it again tonight!

I can also has Mini!

ZLK

ZLK2

I took a picture a year ago with the exact same shades from Andrew.

Jase was telling an intense murder story. Need to catch the mood on camera.

At this place at Muara. It has fantastic lamb burgers.

Said fantastic lamb burger

KTHNXBAI!

Time home has been good. It feels good to hibernate and not go out and live in my baggy clothes and my plain face.

It’s actually become a pain to use my brain this holiday.

I miss my boyfriend and my friends back home. I miss the boozing and the nights out talking about random topics. I miss the makans at random places and chilling at random coffee shops and ranting about our #firstworldpains.

But time home has been good. It’s really great to spend time with my family.

Between watching copious amounts of TV, I’ve also been catching up with my reading.

Unfortunately, idle hands has made my mind amplify the seriousness of any given situation.

I feel emo and I have no reason for it. I guess I’m just worn out from a hectic year.

I shall get out more soon.

#meaninglesspostoftheyear.