And What You Thought You Lost Was Just Mislaid

I cannot FUCKING believe this.

After so long, I finally know the truth. In hindsight, I shouldn't really be surprised. And as Elnie says, I should be kind of glad that I wasn't stuck holding the prize mule in the end. But the feeling of being played and being lied to still pisses me off.

But, to tell you the truth, all along, I thought I was the one who fucked things up. But now, it feels SO much better to know that it really wasn't me, it was him!

Important lessons I learned:

1) When my instincts are screaming the place down that something is "wrong", it ALWAYS is.
2) Don't be so blinded whenever a guy says nice things to you.
3) A white lie is a white lie, but it is still a LIE.

If You Don't Eat Yourself, No Doubt The Pain Will, Instead

After spending an agonizing day at my cousin's wedding (and anticipating another full day affair coming up in November), I have come to the following conclusion.

I'm not normal.

Then of course, it begs the following question: what is normal anyway? And is anybody truly normal in the first place?

Please tell me what you think.

Someone's Always Talking When I'm Trying To Make Some Sense

TIOMAN!

I seriously, seriously cannot wait to go to Tioman. In about 30 hours. Sponsored by my extremely superrific, generous, marvellicious friends. Accompanied by some of those said friends as well. Clear blue waters and white, sandy beaches with hopefully not too many white, sandy ang mohs (although I can sense Rashid going, "WEI!" disagreeably at that.)

I've had horrible birthdays for the past few years so I'm really hoping that this year makes up for the rest of it. My colleague warned me that there isn't much to do on the main island itself, either than a KTV shack and a flyblown restaurant, but I'm not really going there for that stuff, I'm more interested in snorkeling and reading fat paperbacks by the beach and just being a lazy bum after having worked consecutively for the past week.

I hope that things go well. Crossing my fingers and expecting the worst, but I'm very bad at that because I'm an introverted die-hard optimist.

I know I should stop re-reading 'She's Come Undone' by Wally Lamb because everytime I pick it up, I start bawling ever few chapters. I guess some of the story hits a little too close to home. But it's not healthy to bawl this much, right?

Work is work. I'm tired and I'm hopeless but I'm hanging on, because I have to. Thank God the people there make it a little easier.

I'm missing my Finer Things club! Come to my house for Raya, will you? But it may have to be a weekday night, if you guys are alright...(or even towards the end of the month?)