You’re alway my shiny, Mr Booger.

Helluuu.

As it is, I’ve been busy for the past few months, moving out and trying to settle into a lovely little room on the other side of the island. So I’ve pretty much neglected this little space of my own on the World Wide Web.

Apart from scrimping and saving to buy clothes, and daily lessons that I’ve got to grit my teeth and bear with, my life has been looking up. Every time I go home (Hougang), I’m reminded that there is a better place, waiting for me. A room with privacy, without six-year-old annoying twits to resist the urge to slap, a big, big bed to lie on, late at night, while I bite the end of my pencil trying to contemplate the workings of the world; the world of numbers famously known as Sudoku.

And I’ve been on pencil-buying sprees (I bought a pencil for left-handers yesterday! *squeals*), and trips to the library every so often, sometimes with the boyfriend in tow.  And I’m loving every minute of it of every day, when I wake up to the smell of freedom (and dirty laundry) in this little haven of mine.

The fasting month is almost over, and I’ll get my boyfriend back. To cuddle with at nights and to hold hands with on dates which take place before seven p.m. I have a yummy little surprise for him up my sleeve, and judging by the time it’s taken for that yummy little surprise to get here, I’ve let half the cat out of the bag, figuratively speaking. I’m almost bursting to tell him what it is, yet all I get is a nonchalant shrug and an air of indifference. Ingrate. Though I must say, a cute one at that.

We’ve survived eighteen months together, well, maybe I should say that HE has, since he’s now helping to pay half my rent, plus a little pocket money for me in between. And I can tell you, he ain’t happy. Though all I get is some grumbling, I know I should spend less. But me being me, I can’t(obviously). And now we have a tattoo fund. Ha. He matches my contributions dollar for dollar, so the more I save, the quicker we get our ink. Yay us!

And and and I got my exam results and I passed the module that I’ve been trying desperately not to flunk (again), so all is fine in Futureland. I’ve got to start reading and making notes, though, and there’s hardly any excuse now for me not to since my books are here already, waiting for me to leaf through them and discover the meaning of existence. Yeah, right.

Even someone as obsessed as I am with books knows that they only nudge you along, and the finality of the last page never promises you enlightenment. Besides, I don’t want to be enlightened. I want to be filthy, stinking rich. But since it doesn’t look like a millionaire might be coming my way, I’m sticking with this sweetie who’s been such a dear. Whom I’ve scared into thinking that he has diabetes. Ha bloody ha. (He even mentioned his toe being a little black.) And there you have it, my dears, the power of suggestion.

And I’m typing all this from my new shiny, yo.

Ain’t she a beauty? And I love her. For being new. And dependable. And shiny. And energy-saving. And for being a present from my biological sugar daddy.

Of course, I’ve ordered handmade netbook sleeves to make sure she stays shiny. They’re gorgeous and, of course, very practical, I must emphasise.  They’ll be arriving in a few weeks, so stay tuned for them!

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2 responses to “You’re alway my shiny, Mr Booger.

  1. walau so obit sia the pink. btw, good to see you blogging again yo. =P

  2. not obit. you obit. imma gir, and pink is my worr.

    another night of one-man Twister, yo. we really should get a TV and watch Billy and Mandy together. 😦

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