fellow lodgers (1 - 4)

'Fellow' not being a reference to their gender (as that'd be extremely lame), but rather to the fact that I too am very much one.

The point of this exercise, apart from demonstrating my utter oblivion to my physical surroundings, will reveal itself to me one day. In the meantime, and in order of arrival:

#1 Macau-C. Fails to rectify any of my prejudices against spawn of rich Asian folk. Skirt-chasing enthusiast. Never pays board on time. Delivers pizza in a BMW. Skips school for said activity. Crashes BMW while doing same (though I shouldn't talk). Gambles. High turnover rate of friends due to inability to grasp concept of loan repayment. Deterred from ever bumming another lift off me, by my icy demeanour and solemn demands for payment.

#2 Indo-S. Smoker. Shy and courteous. Fashion-insensitive to a point even I daren't go, let alone young men of his age and means. Doormat to his more streetwise 'pals' (see e.g. above) - often seen carrying someone else's shopping, after having paid for it. Now lives with sis and cousins in Sth Pth family property. Visits sometimes sweet thing (or, perhaps, because yet to overcome doormat mentality and is summoned by one of aforementioned 'pals').

#3 Brunei-W. Speaks Hokkien. Loves to smoke with dad on our verandah. Currently experiencing dad-withdrawal so severe as to literally dream of his return. Not on chummiest of terms with maths and therefore in considerable and unjustified awe of me following one brief consultation.

#4 HK-N. Ring on each nipple (umm... I thought symmetry was sooo '80s?). Picky with food and not in a healthy way - packet of mee goreng a day, around midnight. Bag of bones. Pic of Jap AV actress as laptop wallpaper. Funny. Most studious of the 3 atm, I think, though I could be seriously mislead.

hoo haa

Oh I'm gonna charm the pants off 'em. Just you watch.

Not talking about girls. For once. SB Firm called me back.

Something else he said at the interview:

If you're still thinking about other options, Plan Bs, worse-comes-to-worsts, then you're not ready for this. You do this because nothing else will do.

1st thought: What was he, a struggling artist?
2nd thought: Such snobbery (me, not him).

He was right-on, of course. How does one live otherwise? Obviously it's not a sentiment shared by many in the profession; in any profession for that matter. But that doesn't make it any less instructive.

boys on the side

Out the front, actually. 'Twas Women Only Night (WON) at the Meat Market. All those with Y chromosomes were barred from the courtyard.

Wouldn't've gone but for Cherry's birthday drinks. Ahh the things we do for girls. Even wore makeup (!) and slutty jeans (ripped in a wikid place). Unfortunately, by the time I got there (11pm) she'd drunk to a state of contented oblivion, and my decent sensible side took hold and quelled any compulsion to seduce. Who am I kidding, there's something, and it ain't goin' nowhere.

Turned out to be a great night all the same! Suga and Foxxy (S&F - as yet unofficial but what the heck) are always fun to hang out with and tease the crap out of. Also met E, Suga's very own boy minion - an absolute riot, and roughly (no pun intended) her male equivalent. Of all the nights he could've chosen to make his comeback onto the Market... (To eliminate confusion, boys and/or those ideologically opposed to the concept of WON were confined to the indoors area, so it wasn't like E had to cross-dress to sneak in.)

People I didn't expect to see / who didn't expect to see me:

• Ex of Nobel-Laureate-to-be (NL2b) / current of ex-pal and Prime-Minister-to-be (PM2b). She claimed to swing occasionally but I could tell she was just another garden-variety hetero dag. *g* Still, we moved some dirty for the ladies. Can't wait to hear PM2b's reaction when I'm finally outed. It'll be simply delicious.
• S, sister of Cat (my adopted sister). I knew about S (who didn't?), but Cat hasn't told her about me. S and I were friends in Year 9, then she became troubled (not referring to the fence jumping - that came much later) and drifted away.
• V, Honours comrade. She seemed slightly rattled to be spotted at such establishment, even though her bf was with her, and stressed that they came to support a friend. *rolls eyes*

Fuck-me outfit was sending out wrong signals (or rather, right signals in wrong directions), so I stayed close to my crew. Bad move! They loaded me up with champagne (so nice not having to drive) then let me loose. Lucky I had ample self-restraint... Well, not really. All it took was residual clarity of mind to perceive the ferality abound, to not want to partake therein.

Admittedly it's been a looong time since I got this tipsy. But I played it up a bit to excuse bad behaviour. What a hideous cliche I've become.

Oh I did spot one hottie, whom I bummed a light off. (Chill folks - queer as I am, I haven't taken up smoking. Was only helping out S&F who were busy with you-can-guess-what.)

Afterwards, McHappy Meal in hand, we headed to Foxxy's for a brief recovery session. A very trashed E continued to blab about his priest bf and his trophies for the night (too vulgar to repeat even here). I continued to apologise repeatedly to S&F for myself and E. Poor things.

weekend again

And I haven't earned it.

My scarce movements this week:

N got her ears pierced on Wednesday. An autonomous decision met with little maternal resistance. I, on the other hand, experienced some distress. Thankfully procedure was by-the-book, no nasty reactions so far. But it wasn't just that - before we know it she'll be asking for a car (or worse, a motorcycle) and her bf to stay over (or worse, her gf). Woah talk about a bad case of vicarious growing pains.

Wednesday night: Indian-themed cook-up at the Albanyan's shared house. She and I have most heartily welcomed each other back into our respective lives. We're so good together (not in an exchanging-bodily-fluids kinda way!) it's a crime to stay apart. Couple of her housemates joined us for the feast in their backyard. A quinessential Australian experience, save for the stimulating conversation. *dodges assaults by the patriots among you*

My thriving match-making career: Bro and HM2, Suga and Foxxy. Not bad huh. All beautiful people who deserve TLC. *breaks into song (what about me, it isn't fair, ...)* - jk!

Hit the shops yesterday morning, to gather bits for a present, which entailed considerable wandering around. Now not just any occasion could force me to confront - let alone so extensively - my great, permanent and indiscriminate loathing of shopping complexes. *wink*

retention rate

Interview at SB Firm this arvo. Standard duration for these things is 15 to 30 min; today's one went for an hour plus!

Had a great time. He really talked up the firm, the work, the lifestyle. And not in the extravagant and/or debaucherous ways that us high-minded folk might expect to scoff at. I was actually inspired to aspire (which, given my apathetic state of late, was a truly astonishing feat). So much so that halfway through I began visualising morning tea with would-be colleagues, poring over deathly boring documents with delirious contentment, and picking out my very own robe and wig.

He said a whole heap of legit stuff. The rather bland 'retention rate' is only what popped into my head first as I reflect upon the experience.

Btw I looked hott in my power suit and uncomfortable-but-worth-it heels. (Hmm methinks the stench of Suga's narcicissm is rubbing off on me!) If I get an offer I'll know that my devastating intelligence and wit had nothing to do with it.

good Good Friday

Despite:
- getting 5 hours' sleep over two days
- doing the boys' washing
- straining to keep mum away from my homo-ies
- nursing a thoroughly wasted Yes

Thursday night a very wound-up Suga Babe came over for a drink, which turned into yet another deep-and-meaningful about the 'complexity of being Asian and gay'. We are very much enjoying each other's company. This surprised me initially because it seemed that apart from the Asianness and the gayness, we couldn't be more different. Turns out that was only my lousy first-impression-forming faculty playing up.

She ended up crashing in my bed (while I took to the sofa, mind you). Her alarm went off at 5.30am (then at 6, 6.30, 7) - the woman never rests! So the D&M continued with us snuggling up on the sofa. At one point she insisted that I examine closely her perfect legs - the woman is Narcissus-reincarnate! Albeit consciously so, which I suppose is a bit less bad not to mention funnier.

Later in the morning, after much pleasure-free contact with men's underwear (see above), I went to see Yes. A rare treat, given that she works 40+ hrs/wk at the Sunflower, on top of full-time uni and traveling by public transport. Breaks my heart.

A wander in KP and a pizza on the curb later, I took Yes home as a surprise for N who, as you know, is thrifty with her affection but makes quite an exception for Yes. For the rest of the afternoon I happily delegated all sisterly duties and played in the kitchen instead.

Dinner was DIY Vietnamese ricepaper rolls. Major success. I invited Bro, in an effort to dispel (or fuel? oh who cares...) the highly elaborate affair between him and me which mother has extrapolated with her mighty imagination. 'Twas as big an Easter gathering as our home has ever seen, with the boys practising their obscenities-around-the-world at one end of the table, N flitting around making rolls for mum and herself, and Bro Yes and I doing our best to be cryptic with uncompromising vulgarity.

After the feed things started to go downhill. Yes passed around the champers she brought. Bro implored me to sing for/with him while he worked his self-taught-virtuoso magic over the keyboard. Unfortunately, my sheet music collection consisted largely of pitiful lamentations of loves unrequited and/or lost. Suffice it to say that some among us gave in to thinking about precisely the wrong things/people. Before long Bro was belting it out with moist eyes while Yes crouched silently in a corner sipping on a red (fast drinker, that one). I did my best to reassure C (19yo friend-of-an-old-friend, visiting from next street up) that not everyone grows up to be a loon like those two, washed up, made dessert, etc., whilst inside I too was going a bit lala. Mine is a seriously disturbed family.

As mum and N prepared to retire for the night, HM2 (Husband Material No. 2; for Bro will forever be No. 1) was summoned to the after-party. [An aside: how incestuous must I appear to the unsuspecting browser-by, all this talk of 'me and my Bro'.] Even though he and Bro would probably bid premature farewell on the path-to-coupledom, I couldn't help but request that they behave themselves in my room - into which mum tends to wander at will - and felt like an enormous prude for doing so. Later HM2, the sweetheart that he was, was given the third degree by my re-emerged mother. Bless him.

That's all folks. The only bits omitted are the hurling and cleaning and nursing which you'll agree are best left that way.

registry of births deaths marriages

Little Rose is on my mind. Last we MSNed she was in HK nursing her father, who has advanced lung cancer. He went to high school with my mum. Haven't seen Rose online for a few days; before then she was on all the time. It's making me think sinister thoughts. You know you're getting old when people your parents' age start signing off.

Elegant Lotus is on my mind. And her 10-day-old S, the second cutest Asian baby ever (after N, duh). Wow I'm an auntie...

Belle is on my mind. She's getting hitched on October 7. She was so unhappy for so long I worried whether she'd ever rise above it. But life helps those who help themselves, so it seems.

bed time

What a good kid I am. Wednesday night at home with the books, when I could be further integrating myself into the Community.

The inspiration? First time I understood anything in a Procedure tute - after finally attending one lecture and reading bits of the prescribed material. If I keep this up I might actually pass!

Two minutes twenty seconds. No gap of silence. No desire to scream or sulk afterwards. Woot! Progress is being made.

red spells trouble

So I have a thing for red-heads. Fine. But can it be this flagrant?

I caught myself flirting (although I couldn't be sure, as it's been a while vis-a-vis members of this team) with a ginger-bearded, softly-spoken percussionist whose day job in uni admin is funding his dream of becoming a music producer. Would've organised coffee if he wasn't the one signing my pay forms.

To think, had I stayed in that apically monochromatic land, this affliction of mine might never have come to light! Life is grand.

wean, win

It's been a week since I was last (happily) taken advantage of. How's everyone else faring?

Can't help it if my mind wanders back to her now and then. Just need to get it into my head that it's out of habit rather than some deep tortured yearning of the soul.

You can't think you've won, Bro said. Oh but how spectacularly I have lost. And am lost.

the spinster fairy-godmother

Friends are 'coming together' (early days, but) through me. They keep me apprised of fresh developments, sometimes in disturbing detail.

It accentuates how single I am, although this doesn't bother me... for now.

Suga Babe disapproves, however. She says I shouldn't settle for content happy, and must instead aim for wow happy. She points out that I go out of my way to spend time with someone but really expect them to make the first move. She's taken it upon herself to coach me re how-to-be-more-physically-assertive. What a value-packed alliance this is turning out to be.

would I?

Dr Prozac and I discussed whether we would smack our (respective and hypothetical) children. It got me thinking a lot more than she might've expected.

My initial response: not as a formally acknowledged and carefully implemented disciplinary measure, but I can easily envisage times when I'd be driven to. This, on second thought, is completely archaic and reveals a lot about my upbringing.

Without going into gory detail, growing up I was never so much 'disciplined' as I was a vent for my disciplinarian's elsewhere-sourced frustration. A compliant and oft-used vent at that. The upshot of it is, I guess, while I see absolutely no deterrent or educational value in smacking and the like, I know I'll find it in me to excuse myself should I ever hit a little one.

That's part of what I mean when I say I'm afraid of becoming like my parents. Which, in turn, isn't the only reason for my not wanting children but probably a bigger one than I care to admit.

I have hit N. Many times. Often out of anger but always as a sibling and not a parent, i.e. with a mutual unspoken understanding that it's a fight and that she can hit back.

half sun day

Took N to Z's 4th birthday party at Beach House.

When we just arrived Z had no idea who I was. Major blow.

Those months during which I I practically lived in Wonderwoman's 'study', Z and I hung out a lot. She climbed over boxes to get to me. We read and sang and watched videos about talking buses together. It upset her to see me leave.

She remembered eventually, the trigger being the word Kumon Lordhelpusall. Much re-bonding ensued. By the time we left she was my princess again.

Wonderwoman is awesome as ever.

self diagnosis

Dream -

I'm entertaining gorgeous baby of gorgeous sandy-blonde. Baby has coughing bout. Mummy whips out stethoscope on baby; then on me. I receive SMS 'early-onset pulmonary dermatory poisoning ha ha' [dermatory not a real word].

Me: I take it you're a respiratory doctor? [also not recognised med lingo]
Hot Mum: Yes.
Me: Every doctor I see has a different theory about my problematic lungs. I've never heard of 'early-onset pulmonary dermatory poisoning'.
HM: That should give you an idea of what bad shape you're in. Very little is known about this condition.
Me: What does it mean for me exactly?
HM: You die.
Me: ... Don't we all.