Well the week past rather fast, most of the time being rather mundane with me just bumming at home with my books, tv and rootbeer. Rootbeer because the father stocked up the fridge with 3 cartons of rootbeer to be exact. And yes, I've altered my sleeping habits tremendously; I'll only fall asleep when the mother's already up. I know, I gotta to do something about because at this rate I'm becoming the ultimate pig!

Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. Eleven Minutes. I finally found this from Paolo Coelho; remembering how I use to complain of havinf a hard time grabbing a hold of this? I must say it's a gripping and daring book; the sacred nature of sex and love is explored and we're invited to confront our own prejudices and demonsand embrace our own 'inner light'.

At the same time, I got The Devil and Miss Prym as well!


I played with my hair yesterday in front of the mirror, like a complete retard actually. I've got contemplations as to whether I should cut these tresses of mine. For once I do wanna perasan princess with long and inviting hair in which boys are dying to run their fingers through. -_- Well some say I look nice with hair, others say short will look better; they say I'm such a mess with long hair. So as I was saying, I played with my hair with the company of a pair of scissors. And tadah! Suddenly I got bangs, bangs in which at one glance I'll look like Twiggy and another glance like an iban(tribemen). Oh my God, I sound like a total vainpod; a whole paragraph dedicated to my hair.


And yesterday, I had my freakout moment. I was being oogled by a drunk old chikopek. It was 12am in the morning and I was on my way home when this old man sat beside me as I was waiting for the LRT. He smelt of alcohol, and of coz that scared me. I could see that he was looking at me from the corner of my eye. Finally the LRT arrive; thank God there was another chinese man in it. I looked over my shoulder, and there it was! A pair of chikopek eyes with eyebrows bobbing up and down. I got reminded of Joshua instantly(sorry sayang). He gave me the goosebumps that I had to dial the first person on my list. Thanks Adam. Anyways, that old man didn't alight with me, so I was safe and sound. I mean I had many instances whereby I'll get stares from foreign workers(in particular the Banglas) but never from on old man, drunk some more.


Not much for now, in the meantime do visit;