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Truth or dare

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When you know it’s love

Not sure if you remember this particular episode on Friends but it was one titled “The One With The Truth About London” in its season 7 — which revealed how Monica and Chandler actually got together.

Turns out that Chandler wasn’t Monica’s first choice that night. She wanted Joey and he wasn’t available while Chandler was there instead. So they hooked up and they have been together ever since. Some would even say they were meant to be. Until Chandler found out that he wasn’t Monica’s first choice and he went to sulk in Central Perk cafe.

[Scene: Central Perk, Chandler is sulking on the couch as Joey enters to talk with him.]

Joey: “I don’t want you to be upset.”

Chandler: “How can I not be upset? Okay? I finally fall in love with this fantastic woman and it turns out that she wanted you first.”

Joey: “Yeah, for like half-an-hour one night. Chandler, she wants you for the rest of her life! You’re so lucky! Look what I missed out on by not being there! Although you know what? It could never have worked like you guys did …

“‘cause you guys are perfect for each other. Yer know, we look at you and … and we see you together and it just … it – it fits. Yer know? And you just know it’s gonna last forever.”

Chandler: “That’s what you should say.” (Smiles.)

Joey: “What?”

Chandler: “When you’re marrying us, that’s what you should say.”

Awwwwww, it was such a happy ending about two people who were brought together by fate (and destiny) and overcame the odds to be in a loving, lasting relationship.

Which led me to a scenario …

Let’s say someone plays Truth or Dare with you and it’s your turn so you chose to tell the truth. Just like in a scene from Big Bang Theory (season 4) when Penny, Bernadette and Amy had a girls’ night out.

They ask: “Why are you still hanging out with her much even though you broke up?”

Someone else agrees. “For two people who claim to be no longer a couple, you spend an inordinate amount of time in each other’s company and talk to each other a lot,” they say.

Maybe you’d reply: “Okay, look, just because we’re not seeing each other any more doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. I mean, she’s great.”

And if they ask “Then why did you terminate your relationship?”

What would you say? That you don’t know? That she got really serious, and you weren’t ready for it?

So my question to you is this: “How would you react if, in the future, you become ready for it, and I am unavailable, because someone else has realised that I am — to use your words — a great person to be with?”

What would you do then? Or in fact, what would you do now? I’d like the truth please.

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What I really do at home

The “What I really do” meme has been wildly popular these days and I just came across another gem which made me laugh out loud. I have been staying home the past few days trying to cram as much revision work as possible.

In an ideal world, I’d be extremely productive in that for every 50 minutes spent revising, I’d only take a 10-minute rest… and not revise for 10 minutes while getting distracted by social network updates, Scramble With Friends games, the internet at large, food, TV and sleep for the rest of the day.

Ahem. I do love my sleep and it’s amazing how attached I am to my bed, especially after a full satisfying meal. Anyone familiar with the “food coma” symptom?

So while the society and my parents perceive me as a really hardworking mature adult, this is what I really do behind closed doors. Shhh, let’s keep it between us.

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Sunset boulevard

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Yesterday evening, I stepped out of my house, deeply immersed in choosing the next song on my playlist, just like any regular day. As I walked along the pathway towards the direction of my destination, I looked up and what I saw made me paused. The sky was covered with a pink glossy hue with streaks of blue and speckles of gold.

From where I stood, the view (pictured above) was breathtaking. And I spent the next few minutes, thinking how fortunate I was to be there at the right time to appreciate the beauty.

It also made me realised it was the first time in a long while that I finally saw a sunset again. I have been so busy lately with work and school that I haven’t taken time out to enjoy the simple pleasures in life.

Perhaps this was the universe’s way of reminding me to stop more often (and take a picture of the sunset and blog about it). As I spent the next few quiet moments walking on, I caught myself smiling.

It had been a good day. I made someone’s day because I surprised her with a little gift sent via snail mail. When she emailed and texted me to thank and tell me how happy she was, I kept grinning non-stop. Cheering someone up really does make you happy as well.

When I met up with my mates at our regular haunt later that night, it was a friend’s birthday and it was amazing how spontaneous how everyone was. When the cake arrived, we started clapping boisterously and singing “Happy Birthday” really REALLY LOUDLY and out of tune with one another. At a crowded cafe. Where there were living people present.

And we repeated that not once or twice but FIVE frigging times. Yes, we sang “Happy Birthday” six times in different languages. Someone even played the tune on a virtual piano on his iPad. The birthday girl sang along despite having so much difficulty trying not to faint from embarrassment. Another friend performed a solo in such a dramatic fashion (thrice) that we couldn’t from shaking from laughter.

And we kept laughing and laughing and laughing. I nearly keeled over from laughing so much. It was such an enjoyable night out that we went home later than expected and yet it was all worth it.

As I walked home that night, I couldn’t stop smiling. It had been such a great day.

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For he’s a jolly good hero

In the week where Jesus died and came back to life, I managed to crash the side of my dad’s car badly, lived through the guilt [sheepishly], celebrated his birthday* [awkwardly] and paid up for the car repairs with my savings from the last three months [painfully]. I was planning to use the money to go on a holiday which I badly needed since the start of the year so I will be having a staycation instead.

I sound totally stoked, I know and I’m also seriously considering the possibility of staying away from the Interweb during the staycation so I can concentrate on playing this game.

Being a pseudo rock ‘n’ roll hero surrounded by the adoring homely comforts such as the glossy Playstation 3, stacks of DVDs and the cushy bed. Can’t complain really. Not after you watch this video below.

*Never knew my dad had that many wild army stories stored away. Will definitely have to note it down in the next post.

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Listening: Somewhere Only We Know by Keane

Watching this song played live in concert just gave me goosebumps all over. It is that brilliant. Maybe I’m feeling the lyrics literally somehow.

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I’m getting old and I need something to rely on. So tell me when, you’re gonna let me in. I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.

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Last Ash Wednesday

That evening, the sun had cast a warm gold hue on everything it could lay its rays on. If I were to take a photo that day, it would have came out in natural sepia. We were walking to the bus stop which was out of the usual route because the regular one was under renovation. The crowd waiting at the bus stop faded into the background as we slowed to a spot amongst them. There was loud drilling but it is no longer as vivid as how I can picture you in my head now.

I was wearing a black top with dark blue jeans. You were in black too and carrying the bag you no longer use now. I asked if you would like to have dinner but you were on your way to church. It was Ash Wednesday, that’s why you were fasting. I remember expressing loud sympathy. I didn’t like the idea of you suffering in hunger then and even now. While I waited with you for your bus, I thought of dozens of reasons to get you to meet me after your mass so I could feed you. Come to think of it, I was rather cheeky then huh.

This year, things aren’t quite the same as how I would have imagined. Still, I hope you had a good Ash Wednesday. Goodnight.

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Why you should never keep certain pets

I'm gonna be pretty someday

I'm gonna be pretty someday

There is just a certain type of pet you should never keep when you are a child or currently raising children. My first pet was a caterpillar. As you can imagine, that might have just screwed me up a little when it comes to the idea of raising pets 22 years on.

My dad and I were playing in the living room one day when we spied a grubby little wormlike creature on the ground. Seen through my wide innocent eyes, this crawlie thingy was the best thing one could ever find in an afternoon playtime. Dad asked if I fancy watching the caterpillar turn to a butterfly. If you had the same book (pictured above) I had in your childhood, you would think “My very own Hungry Caterpillar”! Oh, the cupcakes you can watch it eat, leaving holes of rampage in its path of feasting.

Of course, I was made to promise to keep it in somewhat of a good shape by not forgetting to feed or look at it occasionally. I forgot if I had given it a name though, but if the memory does come back to me, I shall remember it fondly.

Week One: It laid on the huge cabbage leave inside a cosy* plastic Tupperware. Did not appear to have moved at all. Eat, sleep, eat. Possibly one of the most self indulgent pets ever.

Week Two: Bits of the various leaves were chewed on. Caterpillar remained still whenever my big face approached its home. Got fatter. Shed some weird skin too.

Week Three: Watching it move was like watching paint dry. You never know if it’s even doing it. But obviously, it was doing its exercise in the middle of night when I was asleep. Always at a different spot on the leave the next day. Deprived me of having fun watching it, that fat hairy bastard.

Week Four: From a fat fugly caterpillar, it became a cocoon. I could sit in front of it all day long. I wonder if it ever felt conscious of itself, like getting chills down your back whenever you sense someone looking at you intensely from the back.

The Big Day: As I impatiently ran to see if it had emerged from its cocoon, I saw hints of dark wings behind the leave. Grinning widely, I nudged the leave aside and there it was, in all its winged glory, a dusty looking moth.

Twenty two years on, I still ask myself sometimes infrequently whenever I wake up in the middle of the night to wee. “Why wasn’t it a butterfly?”