housemate

Housemate Horror

If I were to detail to you why my new housemate is pure nightmare, I think I would take up the entire day just chronicling the disasters of living with this half human, half pig.

I hate him based on his personality. I hate him based on how he treats his friends and other people. I hate how he is completely opposite when his girlfriend is around. I hate how he is oblivious. I hate how he is a slob, even when he tries not to. I hate his idea of having a bag of sticky sweets on his bed so he can snack conveniently when he wakes up late at night (although the last one, would effect him more than me).

Such a character truly exists -- even from centuries ago. He is the splitting likeness of Chu Pa Kai, the pig from Journey to the West. If you still don't know what I am talking about, it is one who lusts after pretty girls, despite looking the way he is (found this morning, FHM in the living room, and he proudly asked my *Gallant if he wanted to share his porn CDs). He lacks personality to make up for his loathsome ways. And he is probably the only person who can lament how he should lose weight while stuffing his face with sweet and fried treats. He lacks tact, and speaks freely from his loins and the place where a brain should have been.

Why am I grumbling? Because I can't complain out too loudly about my boyfriend's childhood friend. And to add to all this, I woke up this morning to a mess in the kitchen, and a pot full of my white fungus, with a whole pack of my rock sugar, topped off with my red dates from China. Stop using all my stuff, dammit!

P.S. Mr Possibilities and Ms Luck is tempting me. LH just told me that *Freddy (think Nightmare on Elm Street and Fred Flintstone) is considering buying his own place with his cousins.

like christmas

Someone said recently I reminded her of Christmas. She's even set my number to the tune of Winter Wonderland when I call.

I don't know what she really means, but it sure sounds like one of the best compliments I've heard in a while.

I heart my birthday!

I heart my birthday

This *Damsel has turned twenty and six (in the meantime, do ignore the sidebar that says twenty and five -- it might be changed soon to twenty and two).

I heart the overpriced BCBG Max Azaria dress *Gallant got for me. It fetched this very vain *Damsel compliments from my boss, friends, colleagues and even from a bunch of young female executives I do not know at the bus stop.

I heart my family, who lavished so much time and attention on us while we were visiting home (oxymoron, isn't it?) for the long weekend.

I heart my friends who took time to have dinner with me and coffee after. The conversations were a blast and a stitch at the side! I also heart those who text messaged me while I was in KL and left messages on Friendster.

Well wishes and dinner invitations also comes from two former suitors, which I no longer heart but appreciate the gesture.

I heart me. You know that's difficult for me to say. I heart my twenty and six years of living, and welcome the challenges ahead to make me even prouder when I am twenty and seven.

One Liners

The building of a new university in Saudi Arabia is another major reason why I don't like George Bush.

Some people have a phantom limb. I think I have phantom bra strap -- I don't know why I'm always feeling as if they are slipping off my shoulders when I'm wearing a strapless.

Life like pictures

Life like in Pictures

I love all things antiquated and sometimes wonder if life can be preserved only in its best light. Anyway, here are some blow-you-away shots of Brad and Angelina.









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