Hello Christmas

Christmas eve did not turn out the way it was supposed to be.

For one, the original plan was to stick to last year's tradition of going around town with the seniors and cousin, eating walking spraying arcade-ing and drinking coffee.

But the seniors pang-sehed. (singlish word. i'm recieving a lot of bad influence recently)


So the difficult task of planning where to bring my cousin (i couldn't bear to disappoint him and say eve plans are cancelled) came to me, and solely to me.

There was the suggestion that i still brought him to town of course, and do the same eating walking spraying arcade-ing and drinking coffee.

But the idea got shot down into the drain when i suddenly recalled the lecher-like characters we met at 2plus am at Orchard after we left the seniors last year. -cringes-

And then, there was the idea of simply bringing him to a movie. But again, i was reminded of two years back, when i brought my cousin to a movie, a guy came to extort money from me. And I (stupidly or wisely, you decide) gave it to him.

But despite the two examples showing me in a very weakling-damsel-in-distress-i-cant-survive-on-my-own light, i must hasten to assure you that I AM NOT AT ALL LIKE THAT. Normally. After all, this is coming from the girl who fought a 12-year-old karate-learning boy in the playground when she was a mere 8 years old remember?

Besides, i have another reason for rejecting the latter idea. My cousin pees approximately 4 times in a movie. AND i have to accompany him to the toilet. WHICH puts me in the most tetchy sort of moods ever. So nah uh, bad bad idea.


In the end, we parkway-ed, steamboated, went arcade-ing, borders, drank bubble tea and went for an ICE-SKATING COUNTDOWN THINGY HAHAHA.

I attempted to give him the Whitest Christmas possible in Sunny Singapore.

Three very funny things happened in the course of the night.

Funny thing number one revolved around the cousin. More specifically, when the cousin stepped into a puddle of mud, and felt too icky to wear his shoe until he found a place to wash it.

(so he wrapped his feet up in a hankerchief and attempted to walk like that)


(he walked. and walked..)

(then he decided he looked too stupid with a shoe on one feet and sock on another, so he wore socks on BOTH feet)

(now he walked. and walked... with two pairs of socks)

(finally, he got his shoes clean. whee)

HAHAHA. You should have seen me. I laughed and laughed and laughed non-stop. For about 20 minutes. All I did was hur-hur-hur *gasps for air* hur-hur-hur *giggles* hur-hur-hur *stops walking clutches stomach and squats down to laugh* hur-hur-hur *tears run down cheeks*

Its a case of YOU JUST HAD TO BE THERE.

hur-hur-hur

Funny thing number two had to do with the cousin again.

After he fell down while ice-skating, he decided he needed longer pants to wear. In an attempt to hurry get changed and back into the rink, he took out his aeroplane pajama bottom (it was the only long pants he had) and started pulling his pants down at the brink of the rink and attempting to WEAR THE AEROPLANE PAJAMA BOTTOM THERE AND THEN WITHOUT TAKING OFF HIS SKATES OR CARING HE WAS UNDRESSING IN PUBLIC.

hur-hur-hur

Again, you just had to be there. I convulsed into laughter again at his adamant refusal to not listen to my advice (who wears aeroplane pjs in public oh my god) and (okay if you must go change in the toilet or else shame shame la!)

No pictures for this, cos i did not feel at all inclined to shoot an 8-year-old strip tease. Luckily, he finally saw sense and did not wear the pj bottoms. phew.

And finally, funny thing number three has to do with me.

Well, I would never have thought that the first time I finally deign to give my phone number to a random guy who asks, it will be to an 11-year-old.

hur-hur-hur.

An 11-year-old played iceball fights with me. An 11-year-old stuffed ice down my back. An 11-year-old asked me for my number so suddenly that i gave it unthinkingly. An 11-year-old immediately sms-ed me 5 times in 15 minutes (despite me only replying the first one)

I wonder if the 11-year-old knows I'm an 18-year-old.

hur-hur-hur

But despite all the laughter, funny things, and people I was surrounded with, Christmas had a tinge of poignant sadness today.

Something feels missing. I wonder what/why/how come.

Dear Santa, all is want for Christmas is... to be happy. Simple enough, ain't it?

But of course, I wouldnt mind a nice box of chocolates. Or a nice new laptop. Or books to read. Or new clothes (which will magically appear in my wardrobe you understand, cos i hate the hustle of shopping). Or psp games (because i still have none)

Or let's not get too materialistic here, 6 As on my A'level cert, a scholarship and studying in UK would do very nicely too.

hur-hur-hur.

Its 3.44am. No wonder I'm starting to sound incoherent.

goodnight world, so i can wake up early tomorrow to hear Italian gossip ;)

hohoho.