I CONFESS...

- When I was 15, because of insufficient funds for GIRO deduction, the parents gave me money to pay for the school fees at the General Office. I used the cash to buy a rabbit instead.

- Sometimes when I look at Tofu, I find myself wondering how tasty and tender his meat would be. Especially when I'm hungry.

- When I was in NUS, I mistakenly entered the gents once. And even washed my hands. With 2 guys inside, 1 of whom was using the urinal when I walked in. And I WAS STILL BLISSFULLY IGNORANT that I'm in the wrong place.

- I overslept last Friday (26th August) and woke up at 7.27am when the national anthem is to be sung at 7.30am and my first lesson starts at 7.40am. Imagine the horror! I quickly changed, petted the dog, ran, and reached the workplace at 7.39am. I didn't brush my teeth that morning.

- I've a bad sense of direction. I get lost in Orchard, Douby Ghaut, Suntec, Clarke Quay, and even Chinatown. There was once I got lost in Chinatown. Entered a shop and asked the assistant which direction leads to the MRT station. The Malaysian shop assistant directed me, and then asked bewilderedly am I a local. Shit!

- I sleeptalk occasionally. Especially when I'm tired / stressed. There was once, in an Overseas CIP trip to Bintan with the kids earlier this March, Angeline and I sleeptalk-ed with each other. Our conclusion? Two sleeptalkers sleeptalking to each other and having a conversation! The irony.

- Earlier this year, I cried and moaned because I had a bad dream in which I dreamt I'm lost (no surprise there). The younger brother heard it and initially thought it's something eerie because it so happened to be Qing Ming Festival that fateful day. The next morning, when I told him that I had a bad dream and cried and woke the dog, he exclaimed, "WAH LEU EH!! SO it's YOU!!! I thought it's a ghost la! I was so scared that I switched off the computer and slept early, you know!!! I switched on the living room light, then to the kitchen light, and then bathroom light, just to brush my teeth, you know!!!".

- One of my silly, inner worries is to, one day, discover that Tofu is able to swim. Because the whole family is not going to let me live it down if the dog knows how to swim, and not the owner.

- As long as I've lived, I have trouble pronouncing the word "permanent". My tongue always automatically pronounce it as 'per-mer-memt".

- I'm horrified of lizards. Even had a nightmare involving them once. Damnit.

- On some mornings, before I head out to work, I get deadly envious of Tofu. Eat, shit, sleep, play, eat, shit, sleep, play only. That stupid dog.

- I sometimes wonder how much does Tofu love me actually. If he is able to speak, would he declare and gush about his undying love for me?

- When I was younger, I had a plethora of ambitions. I wanted to be a singer and be Celine Dion version 2. Then an actress winning awards at the then-glamorous Hong Xing Da Jiang. Then a policewoman who gets rescued by a charmingly suave male colleague who is polite, good in character, doesn't smoke, respectful to elders, good with friends, well-rounded, dominant leader, cheerful, fit, healthy, and we live happily ever after. Then a hairdresser. Then a news anchor. Then a reporter for Lime magazine so that I can get up close and personal with Backstreet Boys. As age sets in, so does reality. My first serious ambition is to be a journalist / reporter. At 15, Biology entered my world. My new-found love for Biology overrode my love for language, and journalist got changed to doctor. Too bad I didn't have the brains for it. I didn't want to do research work either, so I somehow switched from Science to education at the last minute - mainly because I couldn't afford university tuition fees and a certain organisation timely offered to pay for it. The current work I'm doing? I've NEVER thought I'll be doing what I'm doing now.

- I talk / giggle to myself quite frequently.

- I've never believed in Santa Claus. The idea of a fat old man having so much time and money to buy presents for ALL the kids in the WHOLE WORLD and gets them delivered personally sounds ridiculous and far-fetched even to a young me. But I once believed there's toothfairy who'll buy my tooth and exchange it for money. Pui.

THE GREENS

Just realized: I'm as much a herbivore as I am a carnivore. Alright, I guess the word here is "omnivore".


I eat almost all veggies. Including kimchi (ohmygoodness!), broccoli, asparagus, okra, spring onion, parsley, coriander, onions, garlic, ginger, leek. Even celery.

You name it; I'll eat it.


All except watercress, strangely.

Don't ask why.

IF ONLY TIME STANDS STILL

There are some things and events which always bring along with them a sense of nostalgia. No one - dead or alive - has ever been spared from its claws.

I miss the days of a student - where the primary duties were homework, grades, and exams. I miss the days in school. Those were the days when - the heavy readings, mugging, and permanent head damage aside - lectures and tutorials occasionally end early in the early afternoons.

I miss the days of having early time off. Hanging around the mall for the occasional quick window-shopping. Dropping by and lingering in bookstores. Scooting off to Giant or Carrefour in the early afternoons and heading home eagerly with bags full of groceries, in anticipation of the food that's to be prepared. I miss cooking, baking cookies, cakes, making sushi, bulgogi, and trying out new recipes. I miss experimenting new things and doing new stuffs.

There are some things and events which always bring along with them a sense of nostalgia.

These are things that make me feel belonged. Things that I would love to do. And without it, it feels like something is glaringly lacking.






I still want to sew that bean bag chair. Do my first knitting. Try out some recipes. Cook new stuffs. Experiment with new things.

I want to maintain a cozy home; a haven. Of course, not forgetting that yellow study room.

Out of the 3 square meals per day, I would want to personally prepare at least 1 for my loved ones. I would like The Hubby to look forward eagerly to coming home to a good meal and a fruitful rest; after having battled it out gallantly a whole day at work.

I would want to be there when my kids open their eyes and catch their first glimpse of the world. Hear their first giggle. Take their first step. Hum the first song. Babble their first 'word'. Sprout their first tooth.

I want to be there. Beside them; with them.



In the early afternoons, we would take little strolls, or go to the supermarket, or play by the beaches, or just simply lie idyllically under the bask of the sun. The little ones would lumber about in zealous exploration. Build clumsy sandcastles. Taste some alien-looking algae and seaweed. Roll about in the grass. Chase birds. Catch butterflies. Feed some strays. Pat some dogs. Tease some cats. Poke some caterpillars. Collect leaves. Squeeze beetles. Squash chameleons. Flick spiders. Stack up snails.

They'll actively zoom around like busy worker bees - gushing and yakking excitedly about some weird bugs or creepy-crawlies which they've just discovered. Or asking frustrating questions like "why is the sky blue?", "where does Santa Claus live?", "how can a fat guy like Santa squeeze through the chimney?", "why don't we have a chimney?", "why can't chicken fly?", "why can't I have ice-cream for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?", or "what time is Daddy coming home?".

On other afternoons - if we are in the mood for indoor activities - we'll roll some dough together, bake some cookies, and make little messes in the kitchen. Or pop some M&Ms. Listen to some old English oldies or English country music. Play with bubbles. Grow our own mini-ecosystem in a 1 litre plastic bottle. Do some art and craft. Pot some plants. Play around with colours. Eat popcorn and watch silly programmes like Twitty Bird or Bob the builder.

In the evening, the little ones would be all exhausted that they'll sleep so deeply while I prepare dinner. The Hubby comes home. He showers, while I warm up the food. The kids wake up. We would eat, talk, play, bond, and then, retire for the night. The next morning, another new, exciting adventure unravels yet again.



I want this kind of life. This is what I see; and vision for.

VIRGO

I've always hated it whenever someone asks for my birth date, and later to proclaim (with an evil giggle, of course) : "Oh, your horoscope sign is Virgo!"

Nope, I am proud to be a Virgoan; and will always be - because it fits me well. I just plainly dislike the fact how people tend to associate the word "virgin" with "virgo". It is like a tag, a label. Pesky as a fly. (Just to clarify, the virgin of astrology is a symbol of self-improvement and fertility. So, stop snickering at the "virgin". Argghh!)

I'm not really a horoscope fan - I believe in a God who's almighty; but from time to time I do read up a little on personalities - just for the fun of it. I like how INTJ (by Myers Brigg Type Indicator) describes me to a T; how the descriptions of the typical Virgo is so uncannily spot-on.

Interesting.



I like being a Virgo!

FIRST AND LAST

I've been asked umpteen times to show it. Sometimes, even in social settings, the topic would come to this, and the million-dollar request would be made, "Com'on. Show them!". It feels almost like an obligation, and I always have to face an internal struggle before acceding to fulfill the obligation. Most of the time, I don't really like being cajoled to show them to people; especially prior to this post.

Before this post, only a small handful of friends know of it. Less than 10, I guess. After discovering that it's a genetic trait and Megan Fox has them too, I was absolutely delighted to know that I'm not the only lone weirdo strutting on earth with weird thumbs.



Clubbed thumb.
Potter's thumb.
Hammer thumb.
Stubbed thumb.
Toe thumb (because the thumbs look like toes).
Royal thumb (because it has been linked to inbreeding among European royalty centuries ago).
Murderer's thumb (because, according to Indian palmistry, individuals with clubbed thumbs are characterized by having an iron control over emotions and an almost endless patience which, if overstepped, might just "snap" and "explode" irrevocably).
Scientific/medical term? Brachydactyly Type D.



I've always been more or less self-conscious of them; at times to the extent of subconsciously bending my fingers slightly to hide the unsightly and weird-looking thumbs beneath the forefinger to avoid them being captured in pictures.

Even right now, I'm still learning how to love them; and not to hide them. Worse still, I have 2 clubbed thumbs (some only have 1). Occasionally, as a way of shifting the uncomfortable attention, I would jokingly say, "You know, this is quite an uncommon genetic trait. Only approximately about 1 in 1000 people have it; and females tend to have a higher chance of getting it. So, it means that, statistically speaking, per every 1000 female friends that you have, I am the special 1 in 1000. If you don't have 1000 female friends yet, rejoice, my friend! Because you're sooo LUCKY! You've just hit the jackpot, don't you know that?!"






THIS SEXY LADY - MEGAN FOX - HAS THEM!



The pros and cons to clubbed thumb(s), in my opinion:

PROS:
1) If you can't find a hammer, you can just use your thumb.
2) You can use your toe thumb in a game of soccer and argue your way through ("Hey! it's called a TOE thumb! It's not really a foul!").
3) If you, in the case of an unfortunate event, lose or have to amputate a toe from your foot or a thumb from your hand; worry not! You already have spare ones!
4) You are certainly more efficient in squashing ants to death (more surface area per unit time).
5) Your pinches pack more power than the average Joe (again, because more surface area per unit time).
6) You give back massages and shoulder rubs which are of higher quality (again, SA per unit time!). =)


CONS:
1) If someone asks to, "Give me 2 thumbs up!", you can't.
2) Doing finger-printing is a bother; because your thumb imprint looks like a toe imprint.
3) They don't make false toe-nails and so, a full set is out of the question.
4) You'll be susceptible to athlete's foot on your hands (ok, this is a lil' lame).
5) Playing bowling kind of bothers you (I have to up a notch to weight 8 or 9, because the fat thumb tend to get stuck in the fingerhole. As weight 8 or 9 is a tad too heavy for me, my ball would roll down the alley with the speed of a crawling snail).
6) You will forever be accused of sucking too hard on your thumbs when you were a baby (tell me about it!!! ARGHHH!!! !!! !!! I AM SO LONG-SUFFERING!!!).









Ok, this is my real thumb (only the left one though, cos I need my right hand to take the picture). And I'm still learning how to love them and not hide them.

You've seen it. I've shown it. Whoever asks again from today onwards will get referred to this url.

And this is the first time ever in my life I'm "broadcasting" the thumbs like this when I've spent my last 22 years hiding them (psst... Is this a breahthrough? Ha!). This shall be the first time I'm posting a picture of my thumbs, and it might jolly well be the last. Feels weird. Uncomfortable. Feels like my privacy is intruded and a sacred secret is being breached. One word: violated.



Love me, love my clubbies!



P.S. (6.48pm). Just realized that Fox and I are born in the SAME year! We're of the SAME AGE!
She is totally HOT!!!

I'M THE TYPE TO...

I'M THE TYPE TO...


... Drop my toothbrush while brushing teeth because it wasn't held tightly enough.

... Search high and low for the hair clips, only to - minutes later - realize that they're already on my head.

... Laugh at my own jokes; even in the midst of telling them.

... Laugh at the same joke over and over again.

... Think to myself, "You go, girl!" and then proceed to smile/wink to my own reflection in the mirror.

... Talk to Nancy (The Master's Dalmatian). Wink at the display picture of Grace in my mobile phone. Chat with my big doggie soft toys or the dolphin that shares my bed. Carry imaginary, whacky conversations with myself in my head.

... Still be laughing over something that happened days or weeks ago.

... Sing to myself randomly and quietly.

... Either that, or suddenly bursting into giggles, or suddenly smiling to myself. Even when ALONE. Yes, I'm lost in my own world.

... Deliberately keep some important things or documents in a "special" place so that I won't forget where I kept it, only to end up forgetting where this "special" place is.

... Either trip UP or DOWN the staircases. Hence, I always try to hold on to the handrail whenever possible. It has saved my life more than once.

... Know the correct order of alphabets only by singing The Alphabet Song mentally in my head. The only sections which I can recall effortlessly without help is A-B-C-D-E-F, L-M-N-O, and X-Y-Z. Brilliant.

... Be a bad prankster. Either I'll stutter obviously, have shifty eyes and difficulty looking into the other person's eyes, keep blinking, licking the lips, or end up saying something totally disconnected and random when further probed.

... Change topics when I feel uncomfortable enough. But it always end up being totally comical, because it is always anything but subtle.

... Forget dates and end up having clashes in appointment schedules.

... Think about silly and random questions like: Why do round pizzas come in square boxes? How is the coastal sea water lines determined? Do the Alphabet Song and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star share the same tune and melody? Do birds do some warm up exercises before flying? Do blind man have dreams? What happens if I feed turtles some chilli padi? Are there lizards in heaven? Can I ask for a lizards radar?

... Have butterflies in the stomach, and experience strong urges of nausea in moments of importance/anxiety/nervousness/examinations.

... Totally forget about time when busy. I think He has been taking extra efforts to protect my stomach linings; something which I've been, of late, feeling guilty over because I've been taking it a tad too much for granted.

... Train the left hand to use the chopsticks or comb the hair or to write, because I heard somewhere that it's good to exercise both sides of the brain. Can prevent Alzheimer's, I think.

... Pertaining to the above 2 points, to choose noodles over rice while working/studying; simply so that I can eat and work at the same time. The left hand can handle the chopsticks, while the right hand can carry on writing/typing.

... Pertaining to the above again, at times when I do remember to eat, I forget to chew, and will "park" the food by the sides of the mouth cavity and totally forget about it. By the time I remember, it has already turned dreadfully soggy.

... Genuinely entering the Gents by mistake and still blissfully ignorant of it.

... Walk for at least 5 steps, before realizing that I'm walking in the opposite direction.

... Forget about silly, trivial things such as medications. Like, "To prevent drug-drug interactions, I'll take the next dosage another additional 15minutes later for better measurement." When 15minutes have passed, I'll end up confused. Did I take it 15minutes ago, or did I postpone it?

... When distracted, frequently throw rubbish into the laundry basket and clothes into the rubbish bin.

... Always call people by the wrong name (Hi John! I mean, Sam!).

... Walk into a wall or a pillar or someone's shoulder every now and then.

... Smile as a tactic to stall for time.

... Totally forget where my seat is after coming back from the ladies or purchasing some food. If I ever have a car, probably I'll forget where I parked it.

THE DAY I FOUGHT... WITH THE WASHROOM

THE DAY I FOUGHT... WITH THE WASHROOM


Every other days, we learn new things. Things we've never known before. About circumstances. About life. About the people around us. About ourselves, even.



Tuesday the 17th was the day of the operation (Oh yeah, I've not mentioned: I had LASIK!). That morning, because I reached early, I dropped by the neighbouring mall to whale my time away. Dropped by Watson to purchase some hair conditioner, and then to an accessories shop for some, of course, accessories.

Nature called, and I went in search of the ladies. Following the ubiquitous signage, I turned right and found myself right outside the entrance of the toilet. The only deviant is a small counter at the entrance of the toilet - manned by an auntie - with a big sign stating "20cents per entry".

I have a habit of walking fast. Catching sight of the counter, I abruptly jolted to a stop. Is this for real? This is ORCHARD area, for goodness sake! I gave the counter a once-over, as though I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing. The auntie looked up, and made the verbatim request. I looked back at her, smiled and - without even so much as a fleeting thought - immediately replied with a firm "No, thanks.". Before I knew it, my legs were already walking in the opposite direction.

Even I myself was astounded by the quick, steadfast decision. Normally, my modus operandi is to try to consider from all perspectives, weigh the pros and cons, calculate the consequences, think somemore, think again, think once more, then come to a conclusion, and finally a decision. But, this time round, I didn't even stop to think. It was, like, something automatic. 20cents? No, thanks, and bye! Pronto!

I was amazed, and puzzled, by the immediate reaction. After all, it's only 20cents. Chances are, it wouldn't even be enough to buy an ice-cream cone.

On deeper thoughts, I finally concluded that the main reason behind my actions hinges on this one thing: Be it 20cents or 2cents, it just doesn't make sense to pay; there is no reason to. I've been to finer toilets where I am supplied with - instead of the usual tissues - clean, white, cotton, hand towels. Not only that, the kind auntie manning the toilet even offered and helped me to some hand moisturizers, despite my repeated rejections. And at the end of the day? I was in cloud nine because the hand moisturizer smells of lavender! And that toilet visit didn't cost me anything. I was so thoroughly humbled by the true, unconditional service.

However, on that day, faced with the 20cents charge, something in me roused and fiercely refused to bend or give in. It is not justified having to pay to visit the toilet. And this is ORCHARD, for goodness sake! The last when I was required to pay to visit the toilet was when I went to some neighbouring country! But here, smack in the heartland of good old Singapore - the bustling city of Singapore - it just doesn't fit in. Something just don't click.

Just there and then, I realized that it has absolutely nothing to do with the money. It is no longer about money, but about... Principles? It sounds silly - even to me now - to bother so much over a simple toilet, but somehow, I absolutely refused to yield or to bow down to the rules - regardless whether is it a dollar, 10cents, or 1cents. This is just a normal toilet. You're not giving me clean towels or hand moisturizers. This is Orchard. There are plenty of malls and washrooms around. I don't need to climb a mountain to find another toilet. The nearest one is just in the mall next door.

The crux of the matter is: What sets this toilet apart, and what is so special about this toilet, that I have to pay to use it?

Even if it means having to go the extra mile and walk to the next neighbouring mall for a washroom, I have no qualms doing so. And this is exactly what I did.

That day, I finally learnt something new about myself. You know how it is, people give passing comments or remarks about you, but you won't really believe it unless you've experienced it yourself. Stubborn? I always - and prefer - to think of it as perserverance and determination. But now that it has reduced to a state of struggling over the use of a washroom, it's a tad of a wakeup call.

Until now, I have no idea whether is it a good or bad thing. I guess it's good in the way that I have a clear sense of my own values and principles, and refuse to blindly yield or back down or bow down to things just because everyone else is - without reasons - doing so. Ignoring personal costs, I would try to get things done without compromising. At least, one of the things to rejoice over, I think, is that I am clear of my own stand and unflinchingly stand by it in the face of obstacles. And it's good; because it's important to have a voice of one's own. The very thing I hate is a person - regardless of gender - having a casual and "whatever" attitude; with no clear stand or a mind of his/her own. This is mediocre, wavering, indecisive, and having no clear directions or goals in life. But, I guess, one of the more obvious downsides to this is that I can get too focused and fiercely single-minded. Or being so determinedly "fixed", rigid, and "stick to the guns" that I resist the occasional need to "bend", and settle for something else.

I guess, at the end of the day, it's all still about balance. Opinionated. Determined. Single-mindedness. Big picture. Unwavering. Unflinching. Undeterred. But, above all else, be flexible. Not blindly and flippantly flexible to the extent of indecisiveness and losing focus; but being flexible without compromising on other more important areas. Balance, balance. It's all still about balance at the end of the day.

I certainly have loads more things to learn.

Life is a journey. Of learning. Of betterment.

Me? Everyday is a fresh, brand new day. Everyday, I'm starting - or at least, try to. Putting aside the destructive personal pride. Progressing. Moving forward. Tailoring. Changing. Listening. Observing. Learning from the immediate surroundings. Learning from everywhere possible. Learning. Everyday, I hope.

MBTI

MBTI


I. N. T. J.!!!

P.S. INTJs are like prized pandas in the land of China - rare. INFJs? (ahem!) Being rarer, they belong to the museum. Hohoho! =)

POUT!

POUT!


Grace likes to pout. So do did I. I pout(ed) with a killer glare. An awful lot.

A pouty Grace.

ME?


(Don't be dumb. Click to enlarge. Open in a new tab.)

I pout,

And I pout again,

And I pout...

... Somemore.

As it has been said, "Once is never enough", no?




I was a rather ugly baby too. I had a BIG unsightly bump for a forehead. Believe me, I didn't ask the Maker for it.


AND I WAS BOTAK!!!

HUH!!! SIMI???!!!

Quit staring at my forehead, you punk!

Is my botak head shiny? Is my botak head shiny?

AHHH!!! The bumpy forehead!

To make it worse, my face was as pudgy as a hamburger. Seriously, God, of all things, a HAMBURGER?!?!?!

Hamburger, anyone?

Again, please believe me. I didn't ask the Maker for a pudgy HAMBURGER face.





Apart from a serious defect of pouting, an ugly forehead, and a hamburger face, I had a habit of STARING straight and big-eyed into the cammie, too.

Let me electrify you... ... ... But first, please take your eyes off my cleavage.



See what see? Want to fight, eessit?! COME!!!

Electrify, electrify. Fang dian, fang dian...

Can you feel the electricity? Let me FRY you!

I had my first couple shoot at 2-months-old. Well, sort of.

Same pacifier!

It was also, sadly, around the same age (only 2-months-old!!!) when I had my modesty outraged. We ended up getting caught by the pair of opportunistic paparazzi.

HELP!!! Don't squash meee!



Goodbye. So long, my innocence...

At 8-months-old, I was very eager to show off how stable I was on that 2 tiny feet.

Want me to show you how to do a split, mah???

If there's one thing I've learnt, it's that we went through the wrong procedures. We kissed first. 6 months later, we held hands.

Take my hand. Shou la shou.

Heyhey!!! Not forgetting, I've gone through my own phase of the universal telephone syndrome, too!

Come, come, telephone. Let me kiss you!



Roster, speak into the mouthpiece

Hello, hello. Can you hear me? Houston?



HELLO! HEL-LLO! OEI, YOU DEAF, EESSIT???!!!

Yobosaeyo???

Ni hao.

Dad says this teddy bear was my all-time favourite. Strangely, I don't have the slightest impression of it.

Bear bearrr... You're my favourite, you knowww? Comeee, let me squash youuu.

Thankfully, at 7-years-old, I've stopped the habitual pouting. Errr... Somewhat. Occasionally.







But not certain trademarks, though. Trademarks are meant to stay. They don't change easily. That's why trademarks are called trademarks.

Trademark since 2-years-old!

Lastly, this is how you twirl a shoe!

Watch and see. This is how you do it!

By using a ruler!

SLEEP PERSONALITY

SLEEP PERSONALITY


Foetus (41%)
Those who curl up in the foetus position are described as tough on the outside but sensitive at heart. They may be shy when they first meet somebody but, soon relax. They have a big heart. This is the most frequent sleeping position, found in 41% of the 1,000 subjects involved in the investigation who took part in the survey. Twice more women than men adopt this position.


Log (15%)
Lying on your side with both arms down by your side. These sleepers are easy-going, social people who like being part of the in-crowd, and are trusting of strangers. However, they may be gullible.

Yearner (13%)
People who sleep on their side with both arms out in front are said to have an open nature, but can be suspicious and cynical. They are slow to make up their minds, but once they have made a decision, they are unlikely ever to change it.

Soldier (8%)
Lying on your back with both arms pinned to your sides. People who sleep in this position are generally quiet and reserved. They don't like a fuss, but set themselves and others high standards.

Freefaller (7%)

Lying on your front with your hands on the pillow, and your head turned to one side. Often gregarious and brash people, but can be nervy and thin-skinned underneath, and don't like criticism or extreme pressures.

Starfish (5%)
Lying on your back with both arms up around the pillow. These sleepers make good friends because they are always ready to listen to others, and offer help when needed. They generally don't like to be center of attention.




Got this while blog-hopping.





Me?

Most frequent: Foetus
Occasionally: Log and Yearner
Rarely: Freefaller. Mainly only under 2 circumstances, namely:

1) When it's time to get out of bed, but I'm feeling like a bag of lazybones. Waiting to be cajoled.
2) When I am aggrieved and whiny; and feel the need to pout. Feeling bullied, for instance. Waiting to be cajoled.

What's yours? Do drop a comment! =)

FIRST THOUGHT THAT COMES TO MIND


1. Beer: Potbellies
2. Anorexic: Skeleton and bones
3. Relationships: To be in for the long haul. Making the steadfast decision to handle problems like adults, and to commit despite ups and downs. Therefore, choose carefully. Choose at your own risk
4. Texas: Cowboys (wait! It's Texas, isn't it? Or is it Mexico???)
5. Power Rangers: Yellow, pink, blue, green, and red. And the song which goes, Hoo Hoo Power Rangers!!!
5. Weed?: Drugs
7. Air Freshener: Lavender gardens
8. Smoking: Stinks
9. The President: Rambutan
10. Fish: Delicious, but I prefer it not fried
11. Cars: Ferrari
12. Gas Prices: Always on the rise
13. Halloween: Treat or trick, candles, witches, and pumpkins
14. Nipple Rings: OUCH!!! Can pull?
15. Sex: Ahhh~~~ *wriggle eyebrows*
16. MySpace: Not familiar with this networking webbie
17. Worst fear: Height
18. Marriage: 2 become 1
19. Paris Hilton: Nothing impressive
20. Brunettes: Dark, shiny, silky, and flowing hair
21. Redheads: Fashion colour clash
22. Politics: Boring seminars and courtrooms
23. Vodka: Alcohol (!!!)
24. Perfume/Colgone: Tommy Girl!!! (!!!)
25. Cell Phone: Waiting for the call or sms
26. Tongue Rings: Used to want to have one. How ridiculous
27. Led Zeppelin: An artiste who sings
28. Vanilla Ice cream: Like it! Second only to durian ice-cream
29. Best Friends: Never easy to find
30. High school: Fun, fun, and more fun! But even more of mugging
31. Pajamas: Nighties and quilt
32. Tube Socks: What's that?
33. Wet Socks: Clean out of the laundry
34. Alcohol: R-OH (where R is any alkyl group, and not a Benzene ring)
35. Saying I love you: Requires loads of sincerity. Without heartfelt sincerity, it's plain rubbish
36. Emo: Please grow up
37. Money: $
38. Headache: Cough
39. Wishes: Becomes reality if and only if hard work is put in
40. Babies: Cute, innocent, wide-eyed, tweeny fingers, little gurgles, cheeky chuckings, sweet giggles, sunshine smiles, pinky, and pudgy. My Fluoride.