To hurt or be hurt.

One and a half weeks too late but HAPPY NEW YEAR MY DEAR ONLINE FRIENDS!!! And hello from my new phone (first post with it!). May 2019 be a better year for everyone! I’ve gone to Genting Highlands and back, and started my first work week as well. Next week, it will be like boot camp week at work, but I’d get very worked up talking about that so maybe I will tell you all all about it after I’m back, so that you can have a taste of how worked up I really can be and maybe burst a blood vessel or two in the process.

So today, I want to share something that’s been eating at me for a couple of days now. I told X about this dream I had a few days ago, and I was absolutely furious with him in said dream. Why? Because he had a girlfriend. And in the dream (as it is in real life), he kept telling me and giving me reasons why he didn’t want a relationship and then BOOM! Some random chick appears and scores just like that.

He asked me what would happen if it really happened one day. I replied that I would wish him all the best, but I’d cut off all contact with him. He said that I’m too much for wanting to take such extreme measures. I argued that for all the crap reasons and excuses that he has given me thus far, then suddenly being in a relationship, would be too much for me to bear. And knowing that seeing or hearing about them together would absolutely shatter me, I choose to not bear witness to any of that, thus my decision.

I thought that would be the end of that conversation, but it actually continued a couple of days later. He said that it’s not fair to make him choose between a relationship and our deep friendship, and I actually agree. If someone imposed such an ultimatum upon me, I’d probably ask him to go eat shit and die. But what about me? Don’t I have a choice in this too?

Last night, somehow our conversation drifted to that again. And he said it would be very sad if things really turned out as I wished for, and why take things to such an extreme. He ended it with, “Then you are not sincere in wishing me well. How can you be sincere if you want to cut off all contact?”. To be honest, I don’t think I can ever find it in my heart to sincerely wish him well. How can I?

A part of me knows that I’m being very selfish, especially because I am in no position to make him choose like that, but I also know that it’s for the best if this really happens one day. My heart just will not be able to take it. I just hope that one day, he will be able to see why I made such a request of him.

Even though our discussion was purely hypothetical, his reaction made me think that it may just happen soon. Not sure what/when/how exactly, but my gut feels very strongly about it. I just pray that if, and when that day comes, I’ll be ready to face it.

What do you guys think? Is it terribly selfish of me to ask for a complete cut in contact, or is it more important to protect myself from hurt?



The return of The Spineless Woman.

It’s 6.20am as I’m typing this, and no I did not just wake up. I have not slept tonight. Just reached home slightly over an hour ago. Where did you go gallivanting, woman??? I just came back from… X’s. The guy has been feeling a little lonesome this festive period because the people whom he’s been celebrating Christmas with for the past 15 years are not around this year. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I’d be with you in a heartbeat. He was so bored he actually called me on Christmas Day to have a chat and we made dinner plans. That’s where I was tonight. Or last night, more accurately.

Sometimes I wonder if he realises what he says. When I offered to come over to keep him and the cat company, he said, “We can have a little family gathering”. Did I hear you right? So dinner we had. Our three-course dinner + tea became an eight hour affair. Not a literal affair, if that’s what you thought about me striking the jackpot lolol, but we just talked. About everything under the sun, moon and stars.

I had a good think about it, and it warms my heart that I have this soul mate but not quite soul mate to talk to. Who else can proudly say they can talk non-stop (except for toilet breaks and when he was tinkering about in the kitchen) for eight full hours? It would have continued if I did not check the time and gasped loudly. I blame it on the thought of having to drive home and worrying about falling asleep at the wheel.

But babe, these eight hours feels like two (or less) when I’m with you. I miss this so so much. It’s now 6.35am, I can hear the birds chirping and I really have to go to bed. Seems like I’ll be having sweet dreams tonight. Rather this morning. I guess the people who coined time flies when you’re having fun really knew what they were talking about.


You did what?!

I’ve recently started exercising. Yes, you read right. Me, Miss Lazy Bones, finally gets her ass up and moving. This, after a hiatus of four years. Four years ago, I used to go jogging and I stopped because I was traveling in Paris for a month. After I came back, I just pretended that that shit never happened.

Fast forward to today. You can imagine what years of inactivity, denial, and the good old metabolism slowing down because of age has resulted in. Fat. Yes, bloody fat ass. I could have been in denial further, but the scales don’t lie. I visit my endo every three months or so, and he makes me weigh myself each time (I don’t own scales at home). And in recent times…. Bloody fucking hell. The first digit has gone up to an all time high. I’ve never been this heavy my whole life, not even with the thyroid medication. As much as I’d like to, lying to myself is no longer an option.

So I started going for classes with my friends. And I’m quite proud to say that even though they all couldn’t make it last week, I still made myself go. There has not been any weight loss yet because it’s just been three weeks, but in each class I think my endurance gets better. The first two classes (I go only twice a week now), I was so out of breath and felt like dying. Of course there was also some cheating involved because burpees simply are my archilles heel, but I realised that I have been cheating less with each class. I take that as a good sign.

Some of my friends have expressed utter shock when I tell them. They were like, “You started exercising?!?!”. Yes, that is how lazy I am ok. I think I’d get the same reaction if I told them I was pregnant.

I hope to achieve a couple of things. First of course to lose some weight and bring the first digit back to a less shameful number. I know it’s not just about the digits but I seriously am very overweight. Next of course is to bring down my HbA1c. It has now dropped to 6.8%! I’ve not seen this number since the first couple of years that I got diagnosed! Very very happy with it. Hopefully I can bring it down to a 6.0% eventually.

Another long-ish term goal is to be able attend classes with just my sports bra. I know these days it’s all about loving your body and embracing however you look but I really do not want to scare people. I’ve seen some chunky chicks in class with such body confidence, but I know myself better. But you know what my ultimate goal is? It’s to look hot naked lol. It sounds damn shallow and it’s not like anyone is going to see me nekkid in the near future but I just want to be able to admire my naked self whenever I want to, and I don’t think it’s wrong at all. I’m still loving myself right?

So, here’s to hoping I keep up with my classes and to look smashing, with or without clothes.


Celebrating 34.

Uhhh this is my super belated birthday post because I was lazy/ didn’t have time/ too hungover to write.

Right. So I turned 34 last Sunday, and the celebrations started on Saturday night. The girls and I went clubbing, the first time since forever. We racked up a hugeeee bill (no thanks to those damn shots we did), but I didn’t have to fork out a cent because that was the girls’ present to me. Thank you x 36785357. The last time we all partied together was at least… five years ago, so it’s nice to reminisce the good old days. Best of all, the club we went to housed a mature crowd (no stupid young kids), and the music was definitely from our clubbing era. In fact, I think we were one of the youngest people there hahahahaha. The night involved lots of drinking, and my memory went kinda fuzzy, so here are some pictures instead. Yeah. Real glam. Squatting by a huge drain puking my supper out. I think we only reached home after dawn. Quite a feat for this mid-30s group.

And then the nightmare came the next day. Not sure if I’ve told you this before, but my limbs and face go all numbly and tingly after every big drinking session. Sunday was the worst I’ve ever experienced. And because my family brought me out for a meal, I had to suffer in silence (because cue naggy parents should I even mention the word hangover) while having my hotpot dinner. This time, the numbness and tingling extended over my entire head, neck, shoulders and halfway down my back. It’s never been so serious before. A part of me went “OMG girllll stop drinking!”, but I guess another part of me said “We’re here for a good time, not a long time!”. Ok ok jokes aside, it was really scary, and I think I need to cut down this alcohol business.

Other than that, I had a lovely time. This place we went to had all these fancy birthday decorations, and they even gave me a crown and the staff came out to sing me the birthday song, with a surprise cake that my family bought.

Another thing that I should mention. This hotpot place has special performances at specific times, and there’s this particular dude who comes and perform this Chinese art of face-changing. I’m not sure what exactly it’s called but he basically changes masks at a very fast speed, even at close range. I mentioned that I wanted to watch him, and my family made very special and deliberate arrangements to time our dinner with his performance, even dragging dinner out at one point. They told me that we wouldn’t be able to catch him because of the clash in timing, but it was all part of their elaborate plan. Here’s a short video to show him do his thing. That wahhh in the background was from a very impressed me lol.

All in all, I had a great birthday. The boys all weren’t around for various reasons but it’s ok I guess. I had so much love shown to me from so many people, my heart is full. Thank you once again to the Yeos for the dinner and cake (and red packet from dad), to my older sister for planning the great night out, to my younger sister for that Snow White doll that I kinda coerced her into buying lol, thank you to my friends who have bought me various meals over the past week, and thank you V for that lovely bag that I kept talking about whenever we went for our coffee sessions. I love you all more than these mere words. 🙆🏻‍♀️🥰


Give me one moment in time.

I had a little moment this evening. Other than pouring my heart out to complete strangers (which are you, you and you my dear readers), I think the only other person whom I’ve released my innermost feelings to, is X. I think it’s kinda cathartic to purge all emotions to people who don’t know you, but yet know you because you have no filter online. To X, I’m not sure why I do it either, but it feels like some sort of therapy because he’s such a great listener and provides such empathetic insights. To be honest, not even my parents or siblings know completely the things I talk about here.

But tonight, I don’t know why I let my vulnerability show. Was just having some drinks with my BFFAE (Best Friend Forever And Ever), and suddenly, the morbid topic of mortality came up. I’m very practical with the number of years I may potentially have because the statistics are against me no matter which angle you look at it from. It’s not that I’m gunning for sympathy or whatever shit, but years and years of research do not lie. There may be outliers, but come on, how many of them are lucky enough to fall out of the radar?

So we were just talking about it as I usually do with other people when this topic comes up, and suddenly, I felt so sad that I may be soon (in the near future) be part of that number. And then I started tearing. In a freaking bar. People looking at us must have thought that he initiated a break up or something lol, because I was dabbing my eyes. And I couldn’t stop feeling sorry for myself. But the worst part was having to come home and revert to being my cheery, mad cap self. And just like in the dramas, I did an ugly cry (no need to look in the mirror, I’m very sure it was ugly with a scrunched up face and all) while showering because the running water would muffle my stifled sobs and hopefully wash all my dramatic tears away.

I deduce that one reason I put up such a front in front (no pun intended) of others is because I’m independent. Or rather, I have trained myself to be. And that’s also the persona that I present myself to other people because I don’t want anyone to see me as weak. But it’s so difficult sometimes. This must have suppressed for some time now because why else would I let my BFFAE see me cry? I’ve known him for 19 years and I’m sure as hell he has never seen me cry. Not when I was first diagnosed and hospitalised all those years ago. Not when I told him I might go blind in the future. Not even when I told him all about X. Why now?

I don’t have any answers to be honest, but what I realise is how difficult it can be trying to be “strong” or “independent” or “positive” when all I really want, or need, at the end of the day is someone to give me a big, tight hug. A hug so strong that it can piece my broken insides together again.


Sucks to be you.

I’m so glad to be living in the present than in the past. I’ve been watching some period dramas (think ancient China) and a local production which shows life a century ago, and boy, do women have it tough in those days.

Like in ancient China, all those women who were a part of the emperor’s harem, either were obsessed with birthing his child, or scheming against one another. I would never survive then. I would probably be tricked by those cunning women and die an early death. And I know bearing the emperor’s child was a big deal (especially if it’s a son), but seriously women, there’s more to life than that ok. And all they ever did was to walk around the garden admiring flowers (which I hate), doing some form of embroidery, or eat snacks and have tea. And to seduce the emperor, I’d either have to ace the art of sensual dancing, or be super coquettish. Yucks. Gag Central. All these while trying to fend off enemies and racing to be on top. Thanks but no thanks.

Then the show about lives a century back. Women still had it tough. Your marriage would be arranged and you had no say in it, and you’re expected to cook, clean and be a sow basically. And if your family falls on hard times, you’d either be sold off to prostitution or raped as a form of punishment.

The past weeks as I’m watching these shows, I say a silent prayer of thanks that I wasn’t born in those era. It may be fiction but I believe that it was inspired more or less by real lives back then. Also thankful that I’m born in this part of the world, because patriarchal (and egoistical) societies still exist in other parts of the world. And it’s really sad (have also been watching documentaries about women being degenerated in general).

I’m so grateful that I have the freedom and independence to travel, work, socialise and behave the way I am without worrying about my safety, or whatever society would say, especially because I don’t conform to social norms. I cannot imagine what my life would be if I had to follow the template of life that my ancestors did. Perhaps I’d be a rebel. Or I’d be dead a long time ago because nobody likes a troublemaker.


The Great Depression.

I cannot believe that the weeks are just zooming by like tennis balls that have been hit by Serena Williams. How come I used to be able to write about three to four times a month, when now I’d count myself lucky if I could manage just one post a month?

Just to quickly round up what’s been happening recently, first and foremost, I may be going blind. Went for my annual eye checkup, and there are little spots of blood in my eyes. Because it’s a natural progression of diabetes, there’s nothing much I can do except to really control my HbA1c to delay its progression. I’m currently in the very mild stage of non-proliferative diabetic retinopathy (NPDR), but it will eventually develop to mild, to moderate, to severe, then full-blown PDR. No one can tell me how long it takes to degenerate but it’s there. Just like a ticking time bomb. Fuck, my life is a ticking time bomb. Fuck diabetes. Yup, today is one of those days I’m not embracing my condition.

And since we’re on depressing issues, here’s another one. Quarter 3 just ended and I did not achieve my sales targets once again. That makes six months of having zero incentive. Quarter 4’s targets are not out yet, but I’m quite sure it’s not going to be achievable because of circumstances.

Life can be so hard sometimes. An acquaintance’s partner recently committed suicide. While I don’t know the full story, it seems that she had depression and she decided to end it all after an argument. I cannot imagine the trauma of the person left behind (he found her body), and most certainly cannot imagine what drove her to it. This depression sounds like a real scary monster. I hope no one has to go through something terrible like that, no one deserves to. There are no victors in this battle.

I do apologise if reading this upset or spoiled your day. No idea why I’m feeling such melancholy. Is it the weather? Is mercury in retrograde? Am I just a pot that has been left boiling and thus have bubbled over? I don’t know, I really don’t.


Zero distance.

The distance between Singapore and Paris is more than 10,000km, approximately between 10,720 to 10,732 depends on which map you refer to. But does this matter? Not really. At least not to me.

X just returned home after a three-week sojourn, and asked to meet me. I bought lottery for real because we have not physically met in about two years, but here he is, asking me out. Against the angry, imaginary voices of all my friends who so condemn him, I went anyway hahaha. The forbidden fruit is tempting indeed.

We had dinner, and went for a cuppa, and then all of a sudden he announces that he has something for me. I was thinking maybe he brought me orangettes because that’s what I love from Paris. To all who did not read my blog from eons ago, this man absolutely loathes buying gifts for people. But I have been very fortunate to have received two bags from his trips in 2012 and 2016, bags which I still treasure and use to this day. So there my greedy guts was cheering Yay food!, but then he whipped out this tiny little paper bag smaller than my palm.

Holy cow it looks like jewellery! I mean only jewellery usually comes in such ridiculously sized bags right? To be honest, I felt a slight trepidation when he asked me to open it. I wanted to joke if he was asking me to marry him but I stopped myself because we all know that ain’t going to happen yo. So with slightly trembling hands, I opened the even tinier drawstring bag, and out tumbled a necklace. Holy shit.

And then there was meaning behind it (although this man hates buying gifts, he puts tons of thought into them when he does), part bringing a memento of Paris home to me, part blessings for me. And then he told me the story of how it took him an awfully long time to decide what to buy, which colour to buy (even thinking of how it’d complement my skin tone), if it would suit me, and most importantly, if I’d love it. Silly. Seriously he could have brought home a fallen leaf and I’d still cherish it.

And then my heart started racing. Spineless woman! I know that we will only be friends till the day we die, but I couldn’t help feeling overwhelmed. The irrational side of me said, “Woman, he likes you!”, but the logical part of me was mildly (very mildly) annoyed because why do this to me if we’re just friends? Friends don’t buy jewellery for each other and put that much thought into it.

However, I’m happy to report that my feelings for him are no longer as strong. Not because I have my sights on someone else, but because I know if I keep doing that to myself, I’m the one who’s going to end up hurting. But I love this man, I really do. (Blocking off the angry, imaginary mob of friends.)

Nevertheless, I’m extremely touched at the effort he put into the gift and I think no one else will ever come a close second for me. I’m spoiled for life.


(Near) Death by cockroach.

Guys. I just nearly died. All I wanted to do was to pee. The light in the toilet has just gone disco bat shit crazy, so in order not to trip, fall and die, I turned on the kitchen light so that I can at least see my way.

The sudden light must have also scared that fucking cockroach when it came on because it kinda jumped at the same time I did. And then all hell breaks loose. It decided to start running. In my direction. I was about to do a triple jump because I saw it coming at me. But what bad timing it was. Just as I landed, my gigantaur (to it at least) foot came down on it. And even though the next moments lasted maybe all of three seconds, it came in slow mo and probably clinched the title of the fucking grossest three seconds of my entire life.


First I heard a crunch, and we all can guess where it came from. Then as an aftermath of the massive crush (also to Mr. C), its innards came loose and got smeared onto my foot. Fucking gross I know. I’m still shuddering at the thought of it. And then I slipped because its fucking innards made my foot slick (EEWWWWWW). Then I start flailing (exactly like in cartoons) and all that’s going through my mind is “Oh god this is how I’m going to die!”. So I try my best to regain my balance, and in the process, bang my right knee and also scrape it, kinda lost my left footing and now everywhere fucking hurts.

I don’t think I sprained anything because I don’t feel the pain, but I’m very sure I’ll get a massive bruise on my right knee. Let’s survey the damage tomorrow.

And you know how researchers have concluded that cockroaches are bloody hardy things (I mean they were around since dinosaurs roamed the land)? I have confirmed that they are right. Imagine me coming at it at full force and at such sudden impact (and I’m no where as light as a feather btw) plus losing it’s innards, and all the bugger did was to flip over. I thought it was dead so I confidently only used one piece of tissue to pick it up. But nooooo. It fucking struggled and fell back to the ground.

By this time I was in mild hysteria and screaming silently in my head because god forbid I wake the house up. Had to use a wad of tissues in the end and quickly flushed that bugger away. YUCKS. I HOPE YOU DIE AND DON’T EVER COME BACK.

As I’m typing, I feel the right toe on my right foot hurting as well. Perhaps in the chaos I kinda did a pirouette or something because why else would my toe be in pain? And now, I’m also traumatised. Might have to hold in whatever pee I have till daybreak.

But seriously. Imagine if I had gotten more seriously injured. What would people think if they asked how I got injured and I replied, “I stepped on a cockroach”. Omg loser much.


We did what?

Time really flies even when you’re not having fun. Just came home (actually it was Friday evening) from the longest week in Malaysia from our Cycle Sales Meeting and I’m so pooped. Everyday, it’s like we’re either having training sessions or meetings that run from 0900hrs to 1830hrs. There was even one day that ran till 1930hrs. You can say that there was nothing that I looked forward to.

Except maybe one teeny tiny thing. Remember Mr. Perfect from my January kick-off meeting? He, perhaps was the only bright spark in the dullest of the dullest sessions. Even though I flew in on Monday morning, I only saw him on Wednesday because we are in different teams and had zero opportunity to meet.

And then, as luck would have it, he fell and injured both hands during our team building sesh, and only appeared very late into our gala dinner. I now realise that I have ZERO photos of our team. That probably shows you how unenthusiastic I was.

So anyways, somehow he ended up at my table, and one drink became two, then became 10 and then everything was almost a blur. I don’t remember the full details of what transpired, but I remember him kissing me on the cheek while I was talking to someone. And of course maybe half the company saw it. I still have people asking me what happened that night. Trust me. I’d love to know too lol.

After that, things got really hazy and I remember him randomly kissing my arm and other people’s arm as well hahaha. And then at one point I found myself sitting on the ground becoming his back rest. And he just laid on me like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. This too, happened in front of a crowd, and again, I’m dying to know what exactly happened.

I did not ask anyone partly because I was afraid by what I was going to hear lol. I doubt I did anything too embarrassing but you’ll really never know. What I do remember is him asking me to call him, for what reason I don’t know because he was lying on me but I did anyway. So now I have his number but nothing has been done. It’s just sitting around in my contacts list.

And that was the only interesting nugget really. It’s not even super exciting but I really have nothing else to share. Unless maybe you’d find my work life fun. Day started last Monday at 0400hrs (had to catch the first flight out), returned Friday evening, worked till late Saturday afternoon and the week starts again today, AND I have to work this Saturday as well. Wheee how lovely my life is panning out.

My life is getting so mundane, my next post may be about me watching my toenails grow. Watch this space.