The story of us.

Timing.

Sienna had never believed in bad timing when it came to relationships. She believed all such people were just looking for an excuse to hide behind, instead of choosing to put in more time and effort. If its worth it, you'll just make the damn thing work.

She went through her life believing that a relationship would drop into her lap, as long as she continued to allow herself to meet new people. She believed that when that special someone came around, she would just know instinctively, and then everything else would fall into place. Because if he was the person that would complete her; would make her a stronger, braver, happier person.

Nothing would keep her apart from such a person. Whenever she fell in love, there was no silly toe-dipping, but she plunged headfirst into it. She was an old-time romantic, believing in the concept of The One. She had so much love to give, but she had to wait, because he wasn't coming around anytime soon.

But then again, she never factored in Leo, The One Who Got Away.
__

She was 17 then. Being a few years older than her, Leo seemed so much more mature than every other guy around her. He wasn't particularly handsome; he was far too goofy looking and was much shorter than she preferred, but he was without a doubt the kindest soul she'd ever met.

Leo was the type that said the good things and did good deeds and everyone loved him. However, he was never perceived as a boring boy scout, because he was just so boisterously full of energy and humour everytime you saw him. He had that perpetual magical quality of drawing everyone's attention, but with noone ever resenting him for it, because he was just so kind and generous and sugar and spice and everything nice.

Sienna found herself gravitating towards him every time she saw him. She hadn't realised this at all, until one day when she caught herself constantly glancing at the door, waiting for him to walk in. When he finally did, she let out a breath of anticipation she didn't even know she was holding, and felt her heart somersault in her chest.

At that moment, she had a giant "Oh shit" moment. Quickly followed by a "Guess I'm not that shallow afterall".

You see, Sienna at that point was highly image-conscious. She had always been, but never more so than that period in her life where she was bent on elevating her social status. Everything she owned, everyone she dated, everything she said, had to send a positive message out to the world that she was a force to be reckoned with. At that point of her life, she was sick of being a constant wallflower.

And how would dating Leo make her look? She worried that people would think she was settling for someone below her standard, and look down on her for not having a hot boyfriend by her side. She worried she might be labelled as desperate, or having bad taste.


But most of all, she worried he wouldn't even like her back. While Leo had never been anything less than pleasant towards her, he had never treated her any different from anyone else either.

Whenever they hung out, they could talk about anything and everything under the sun. Sienna felt completely comfortable with Leo, and she knew that he enjoyed her company too. All was well, but again, there was no indication that things were anything other than strictly platonic.

I mean, there were hints. Like he told her once she was his favourite person to see. When she had a sunburn, he called her a lobster, but the prettiest lobster he'd seen. Small little things like that which although on hindsight seems insignificant, to Sienna then made her the happiest person in the world.

She knew his thoughts on dating. He, like her, wanted to find The One and nothing less. He wanted to find the perfect girl, date her for years, and when it was baby-making time to pop the question and spend the rest of his life with her.

While Sienna had similar views on dating, she soon realised that she couldn't date him at all. It remained that she merely had a crush on him, and wasn't particularly sure he was her One. I mean, there was no doubt that they'd have fun together - they always did - she couldn't risk going after this guy knowing that she couldn't give him what he wanted in the end.

She didn't want to be with him because she didn't want to end up with someone she wasn't physically attracted to. She liked him for his thoughts, his humour, his kindness; but she didn't want to parade around town with someone who she didn't think was devastatingly handsome.

So Sienna let her feelings for Leo go. It was easy once she let her shallow side take over. She then went on to date someone else who was interested, that fit the bill looks-wise, but fell way shorter in all other respects compared to Leo. Don't get her wrong, she was never with anyone she didn't like, but at the same time, she wondered how things would have gone if she had decided to have a go of things with Leo.

But then they stopped being in touch after she started dating. And as always, Sienna was far too cowardly to ever make the first move for anything.
__

One year later, Sienna was single again. She sometimes saw Leo, but they hadn't had a heart-to-heart in a long, long time. All they had was placatory conversation about mundane things like the weather or their families.

But then Sienna had changed now. She didn't care about what someone else thought about who she was dating. All that mattered was she thought that he was the most amazing person in the world and would make her feel like the luckiest girl on the planet.

And that person was Leo.


Sienna decided she had wasted enough time by dating around. If anything, she had to stick her neck out there and make him see that she wanted to be more than friends.

She was by nature not the aggressive type. But don't people always tell you to go after what you want, lest you regret it for your whole life? He was worth the potential embarrassment, and he was so nice there was no way he would be anything but really nice about rejecting her anyway.

After awhile, Sienna finally decided to carpe the diem and ask him out for a drink at the local coffeeshop. Nothing serious, but just to test the waters on whether they could still connect well after so long. She wanted to see if there was still a chance for them to work; if he still wanted to make her smile and laugh, or whether things were no longer salvageable.

But things went great. The conversation flowed smoothly and they talked and laughed for hours without even realising it. Sienna was ecstatic, and a little shy. She had decided that she would take the big leap and ask him out for a real date, and it would be the first time she'd ever asked anyone out.

Now she just needed to find the words to say so.


"Are you ok?" Leo leaned in towards her across the table, his eyebrows raised in genuine concern. "It's not like you to be quiet for so long."

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Nah I'm good. Just thinking about stuff." It was now or never she thought, might as well get it over with.

"I have something to tell you-"
"I have something to ask you-"

They said at the same time, then chuckled. Leo waved himself off and invited Sienna to go first. "What did you wanna ask?"

"No it's ok. You go." The ever-romantic Sienna was daydreaming of a declaration of affection. To think she might not even need to make the first move! Oh happy days have come at last! Never again would she be so shallow to ever think looks could impede how she felt about-

"I'm leaving."

Her fantasy halted, then immediately fizzled out. Sienna glared at Leo, who was now looking down at his drink, and stirring his straw at the remains of his third iced tea. She had thought he might be kidding, but the sad look on his face told her otherwise.

"Why? When? Where?" Questions popped out of her mouth sooner than she could stop them. Perhaps, perhaps there was still a chance.

But alas, it didn't seem like there was. Leo was going abroad to study in two weeks, having just received an offer to study overseas. He was going to be there for a few years, and would likely not be coming back for summer breaks or any break at all.


Sienna didn't believe in long-distance relationships. And there was no point asking him out if all they were going to have was two weeks.

So she steeled herself, realising Leo was scared and excited at the same time about living away from home alone for so long, and it was still her duty as his friend to share his feelings and help him feel as pumped up as possible about heading out there. She wanted to be there for him, and right now this was the best way she could help him out. She knew the outside world would love him as much as everyone here did, as much as she did; there was just too much niceness exuding from him.

"I'll miss you, ya'know?" Leo said before they parted. His arms were outstretched, and Sienna willingly folded herself into them. She had never realised how nice he smelt before. Such a shame it had to be now.


Sienna managed to wait until his car disappeared around the bend, before her eyes filled with tears and clouded her vision. Then she felt her heart starting to break.
__


Another three years went by, and Sienna was still very much single. It wasn't that she wasn't over Leo - they hadn't spoken for ages - but it was just that no other guy had managed to connect with her emotionally. There was just nothing about the people she met nowadays that made her breathing shallow and her heart race.

But otherwise, life was good. She did well in her studies, she had great times with her friends, she pursued her interests in writing and dancing. Her love life sucked, but that was not reason enough to mope around miserable. She was a much more independent person than she had been some years ago, and had no intention of settling for any guy that was less than perfect.

Sienna had heard that Leo was back in town for the first time since leaving the country to study. But they weren't close anymore, so she didn't seek him out. She felt a little shy about hanging out with him after all this time, a sharp contrast from how comfortable she was with him previously.

But it turned out he didn't feel the same reservations towards asking her out for a catch up session. And she was secretly pleased that he did.


She needn't have worried at all. Things went along great, as they always did with him. They talked about things they had done and people they had met, and Leo had plenty of tales to tell about life abroad. He loved it there, he told her, things were so much better and more laidback than their homeland.

He seemed more rugged than he had a few years ago, having backpacked through countries and seen scores of breathtaking sceneries. He had developed a slight accent and had beefed up a small bit. But his core remained the same. He was still Mr Nicest Guy In The World, and she liked that he hadn't been coerced into the ways of the world like so many other do once parental supervision ceases.

He seemed to have grown into himself. It was amazing to see how much he'd changed yet stayed the same. And Sienna realised that for the first time in a long time, she wanted to date the person sitting across from her.

It was as if her feelings for Leo had never dissipated. They were a dormant volcano, which became active again upon Leo's return which shifted the earthplates of her emotions. They spewed out red lava by making her blush whenever he made her laugh or if they held eye contact a moment too long.

And she decided to take the plunge for him. Again. He would still be the first guy she'd ever ask out, and he'd still be worth completely embarrassing herself for.

But first, she had to confirm something.

"So, are you back for good?" She cocked her head at him and asked.
__


Leo leant further back in his chair. He looked across at Sienna, who was waiting for his answer, her eyes rounded in curiosity.

She had always been like a sister to him, and he'd always felt hyperprotective about her. Sometimes he caught himself thinking about her unknowingly. Like when he heard a song or saw a sunset, and wondered how much she'd like it.

He knew he cared about her very much. And he knew that he had some feelings for her. But the timing was never right; she was either dating some guy or living halfway across the world from him.

He knew she had been single for a long time now, but he'd been single for much longer. He knew she blushed when he looked into her eyes for over two seconds. He knew that if he wanted to, he could ask her out right now and she wouldn't say no.

But again, the timing just wasn't right. And this time, the timing would never again be right.

"I've bought a place there. I'm permanently migrating there in a few weeks. I just came back home to organise my move." He said apologetically.

And Sienna, bless her heart, did exactly as he expected she would do. She started gushing about how exciting things were going to be and how much he was going to experience. She never once tried to drag him down, or try to draw attention to herself. He knew that all she ever wanted was the best for him, as he only wanted the same for her.

And he knew that try as he might, he would never find anyone else like her.
__


Sienna was all grown up now. She shivered a little as she wrapped her trench coat tighter around her body, in a vain attempt to protect herself from the cold winds. She was holding on to her bags and bouncing excitedly on the curb at the airport's pick up zone, taking in the sights and smells of a country so foreign to her.

She had done amazingly well in her career, and her company had decided to send her abroad for a yearlong stint at their head office. The opportunity was beyond amazing, as she was nothing but grateful. It was two days before she had to clock in, and she'd already enlisted the services of her favourite local to guide her all around the capital city.

A dark blue sedan pulled up in front of her, and Leo got out. He looked great, she thought, the years have only served to make him look better, while some people their age back home were already sporting beer bellies. 

She had to admit, when she ambushed him out of the blue a week ago telling him that she was going to be in town for a year, she didn't know what to expect as they had only contacted each other a few times over the past few years. Yet here they were. And she couldn't believe how excited she was.

"LEOOOOOOOOO!!" She screamed as she rushed to hug him. "I can't believe I'm finally here!!"

Leo laughed as he pulled away and carried her many bags to his car. "You haven't changed a bit."

"That's not true. I'm a lot prettier than I was last time, right?" Sienna challenged.

"That's debatable." Leo quipped before hurriedly ducking away before Sienna could punch his arm.

Just like old times, she thought, with a grin on her face and warmth in her heart.

After dumping her things at her rented apartment, with Leo promising to help set things up the next day, they had spent the whole day touring around the city. With Leo being as good a tour guide as any, Sienna managed to get in a huge amount of sightseeing before sunset. All the while, they were completely comfortable around each other, as if all those years of distance had never happened before. 

Sienna caught herself checking Leo out all over again, as if she was still a teenager. He was smart, he was successful, he was still the nicest person she'd ever met, and he seemed somehow much better looking now than some other guys that hadn't managed to remain good looking after college. They had either gotten weird piercings or bodies covered in tattoos and while Sienna didn't judge them for it, it was still a major turnoff.

So here they were having dinner at a beautiful restaurant, which Leo promised had the best dessert she would ever taste. After having spent the whole day talking themselves hoarse, they enjoyed their dinner in comfortable silence. Until the topic came up, which Sienna knew it would.

"So how're you doing after Ben?" Leo quietly asked.

Sienna paused from scraping her plate of pie clean; it really was the best damn maple pecan pie she'd ever had in her life, but suddenly she lost her sugar high. It was six months ago that Sienna caught her boyfriend of one and a half years cheating on her, and while her friends had really put their backs into making her feel better, it had taken her awhile before she started feeling like the world wasn't such a horrible place.

"Well it sucks, it really does. But life goes on. You really helped though, and I don't think I'll ever thank you enough." Sienna said, pointing her fork in his direction.

The exact moment when she started feeling better was when she received a care package from Leo. It contained cookies, hot chocolate sachets, and a few other comforting bits and bobs, but best of all a coupon for a session at a shooting range. She was still a pacifist at heart, but damn did it feel good to shoot a gun and hit your target.

"You made that abundantly clear when you said you'd shoot any skank who cheated on me." 

"And I meant it." She also knew that he had just broken off with Candice after seeing her for a year, but he assured her it was more irreconcilable differences than a cheating scandal.

Sienna was sure that no guy would've done what Leo did for her those months ago, especially to the extent of sending that box over. Even though he later told her he had just told his sister here what to get and had her deliver it, he had still been the think tank behind the whole thing, and his level of concern far surpassed that of some other friends she saw more often.

Sienna had always wanted a storybook romance where the knight in shining armour would rescue the damsel in distress and they would live happily ever after. But she had grown to realise that fairytales don't always happen in the dramatic ways storybooks tell us. Sometimes a succession of small, thoughtful gestures can have just a strong impact as one dramatic rescue.

And things were great now, right? Here they were in a big city away from home together. They got along perfectly as they had so many years ago. All signs pointed to them finally, finally being together. In the spirit of third time's the charm, Sienna decided to once again muster the courage to ask him out on a real date.

"You're right, this place does have the best dessert. Any other secret place you've been hiding away?" 

Sienna could've kicked herself. Here she was, with a guy she'd known for so long, but yet she was still playing clichéd mind games with him. But she supposed it was pre-programmed into her female mind, and she was powerless over such overwhelming genetics.

As always, the male remained clueless that he was being manipulated into asking the female out, thinking that it was his own idea to do so in the first place. "Well there's a place a few blocks down from here that has amazing sushi. We could go there one of these days." Leo mused.

But before Sienna could respond with her prepared "Great! It's a date!", Leo continued to say, "And about this place, you have to thank my wife for discovering it."


You could hear a pin drop in the seconds that followed.

"I might have forgotten to tell you that Candice and I got back together two months ago, and I decided to make an honest woman out of her. I didn't want to tell you while you were dealing with the whole Ben thing, and then decided it would be best to tell you in person."

Shocked to death had always seemed such a melodramatic description, but Sienna felt that no other term fit her better at that time. She had thought that Leo still had feelings for her after doing what he did with the care package thing, I mean doesn't it smack bang of a typical grand romantic gesture the male lead in a romantic comedy does right before he wins the girl of his dreams in the end? And although she didn't think they'd get together right away, she certainly had expected that they'd finally give it a shot this time.

I mean, the world had to be fair right? After taking so many chances away from them, shouldn't they at least have an opportunity to be together after so many years? Could he possibly just be messing with her like he always did?

And then she clocked that he didn't have a wedding ring. Her hopes of a happy ending that had taken a nosedive from the clouds to the bottom of the sea, now hovered a little on the shallow end of the horizon.

"You're kidding, right?"

Fifty Shades of Madness.

I'm not an innocent-minded person when it comes to all things involving sex. I think being wordy has heightened my ability to be able to turn almost every sentence into an innuendo. But of course, I don't say everything I think, because most people would be shocked to find how dirty minded I can be.

Like every person out there, I've had encounters with porn before. However, I've probably only watched it less than 5 times in my life. And most of those times weren't intentional, but happened when I was snooping through other people's computers and accidentally clicked on files I truly had no idea were porn. I can't begin to tell you how awkward it feels like when things like that happen.

I just don't see the attraction in watching two naked sweaty strangers humping and groaning. If you really walked in on a couple going at it, wouldn't you more likely hightail it out of there instead of staring? I mean, some people may view it as sexually stimulating, but I just think its really, really embarrassing to watch someone else's private acts.

So no, I do not enjoy watching porn at all. And although I don't have any reservations about other people watching them, I'd much rather my future boyfriend not enjoy watching it either. (Another reason why I'm foreveralone.)


But confession time. Even though I am completely uncomfortable with watching such carnal acts, I have no issues (and sometimes relish) reading about it. One of my guy friends once said, "Girls like to act disgusted with guys that watch porn, but their books are all filled with it." And umm, I must concur that a huge part of this is true, because lots of girls enjoy romantic stories, and a lot of romance novel writers include smut scenes.

At one point in my life when I was so curious and hormonal, I purchased almost every title this one author had published, because her books were so sexually charged. I mean, I enjoyed her stories alone too, but I also knew half the reason I read her books was to read about the main characters' sexytime.

Even though I now prefer more dramatic storylines in my romances (current fav authors are Jojo Moyes and Marian Keyes), the authors still do tend to include a few naked parts, but I tend to discount it because I'm connecting it to the plot. I know porn in your head is no different from porn on the screen, but my justification is I don't read books for the sake of sexual gratification?


But I digress.

My point is, it had always been that teenage guys and girls would discover about the birds and the bees, through a medium we would hurriedly hide away should our parents come knocking on the door. The Asian conservative culture generally causes parents to never talk to their kids about sex; and should they try to, kids would cover their ears and run away 'cause noone wants to think about their parents that way. We've all been there, done that.

And I think, most girls learn about sex through reading about it. During my curious phase about 5-6 years ago, I only ever read about "normal" sex, where the guy humps the girl and that's it. Nothing kinky, mind you.

I am truly thankful that my curious phase is over now. Because if I had been born 5-6 years later, and reached for such books now, all I would know about is s&m. When Fifty Shades of Grey exploded on the scene (haven't read it and don't plan to), I don't think anyone expected it to become such a trendsetter. I was honestly really appalled that such a genre had become so mainstream, and I was so embarrassed to see people reading it in public.

I mean, the whole trilogy is about a normal girl that falls for a weird guy, and the weird guy likes whips and chains and all other pain-inflicting sex paraphernalia, and she's scared at first but in the end likes it. At least, that's the gist of what I think the books are about. All I know is that a lot of the book is taken up by scenes of sado-masochistic sex; and I know this because my sister and I had a little game. Whenever we saw unwrapped copies of a Fifty Shades book, we'd pick a random page number and see if there was a sex scene, and more often than not there always was.

S&m is one of those things I will always remain morally opposed to. And unlike porn, I wouldn't tolerate having friends that engage in s&m. I mean seriously, its called "making love", and if you love someone, why in the world would you want to inflict unnecessary pain on them? I truly believe such people are emotionally damaged in the most warped way.

I mean, as sexy as a black leather catsuit with black dominatrix boots and a whip looks, in the end would you really be turned on if the whip was used on you repeatedly? If anyone has ever been whipped by a belt, we all know its insanely painful, and an actual whip would be a million times worse. Who in their right mind could even think about sex if they're writhing in pain?

Only really sick people. And this is why I'm really worried for those going through their curious phase now, because more likely than not they're gonna all be turned on by thoughts of really painful sex.

I thought the Fifty Shades trilogy would only be a passing fad because it was just so risqué. But when I step into bookstores now, literally half the shelves in the Fiction section are smutty s&m books, mostly consisting of black covers with handcuffs or silk ties and names with 3 words like "Unwrapping Silken Bonds" or some similar mulch. And this makes me extremely uncomfortable, because I can't even browse for books in peace because all those titles keep jumping out at me.

I'm a huge bookworm, so I can easily spend a huge amount of time in bookstores. But this hasn't really been the case lately. When wanting to spend my book vouchers the other day, I wanted to read the behind of every book in the Fiction section. But on literally every shelf there was at least one row of s&m books, or worse, Nicholas Sparks books (he writes like a five year old and his popularity disgusts me). Needless to say, I was so uncomfortable I just gave up and left.

To be fair, I hadn't visited a bookstore in a long while, and was unprepared for the barrage of s&m books at that point. Because I went back again a few days ago and managed to ignore all the black books and find some little gems.


Nonetheless, this new "in" genre still disturbs me and will never be my thing. And I thought the vampire/werewolf romance onslaught was bad. I mean, vampires and werewolves are beings that live in dark forests and Transylvanian castles and hurt people, but we've brought them out of Horror and into Romance.

Although I hate to admit it because the movies were so badly made, I really did enjoy the Twilight book series. But again, I wrote it off as a one time deal, because I'd much rather vampires and werewolves stay as things we should stay away from. I mean, if they keep this up, soon enough we'll have nothing to put in scary movies anymore, because apparently we can fall in love with anything.

But the s&m fad is something I never want to be apart of. At least the vampire/werewolf you fall in love with won't ever hurt you, even though you inevitably wind up at the top of the hit list of some other mythical coven. On the other hand, your s&m partner won't be satified until you're covered in blood and bruises. He must care about you so much eh?

But of course, people are horny bastards and will make use of any and every sexual material that comes their way. If the s&m thing has grown to be this socially acceptable, I wonder what the next fad will be? Probably even more strange and controversial fetishes, which will serve to warp the sexual imaginations of all our little kids. Oh dear me.

Bestiality, or perhaps necrophilia anyone?

Bitten.

(And not in the sexy way.)

Today, I just wanted to talk about my day. Because it has truly been one of the weirdest days of my life. And I want to document it so I don't forget any bit of it, because right now it's like the whole incident had never happened.

So lets get to storytime on my crazy afternoon!

I had just come back from college at around noon-ish from a mock test, which I ended up not doing even though I had spent the past week prepping for it. But that's not my point, 'cause all the people sitting around me didn't write anything either and most of the time was spent discussing the questions amongst ourselves. The point was, I was exhausted from a weeklong lack of sleep, and decided to take a much needed nap on the sofa.

I woke up after about one and a half hours in a scratching frenzy. Like, an uncontrollable itch that just wouldn't go away and let me go back to sleep. I just kept scratching and scratching in semi-consciousness, until I couldn't take it anymore and decided to head upstairs to shower and get rid of the itchiness. At this point, I thought it was regular insect bites, because I sometimes got those after sleeping on the sofa.

Once upstairs and more awake though, I realised I wasn't scratching my arms or legs or back, which is where any usual bumps would be. I was scratching where I suppose the most heat would gather (?), being my neck, bra straps, around my bra sides and bottom, and umm the space where your thigh meets your crotch. There were multitudes of bumps in those areas that looked like regular insect bites, but were more itchy than anything I'd ever experienced.

Even after a shower, things refused to get any better. In fact, the bumps and itching kept getting worse and worse. It got harder and harder to resist the urge to scratch, so I finally gave in and decided to go to the clinic.


You should know that I probably haven't visited the doctor in 5-6 years. I hardly fall sick outside of your usual flu or cough, which my cure for is drinking as much water as your body would allow and taking vitamin C, and anyway I hate going to the doctor's. I am terrified of shots, intrusive examinations, and those extremely graphic disease posters clinics love putting up to scare the shit out of you.

But I had never had a bad rash, what more an itchy bad rash, so off to the clinic we go. I even picked out clothes so I could easily show the irritated areas, praying I would get a woman doctor so I would feel less embarrassed.

Once I walked in the consultation room, lo and behold it was a woman doctor. Yay! But I got no chance to take off my clothes, because after saying "I think I have a rash" and showing her my neck, she immediately said "you have allergies" and started prescribing anti-allergens and calamine lotion. Also unsurprisingly, the moment she asked if I wanted a shot, all sensations of itchiness ceased, probably out of pure fear, because while waiting for my medicine the itching kicked in again.

Apparently, I'm not allowed to eat chicken, eggs, beef, small fish, belacan, beans/lentils, brinjals, or shellfish for the next week or so; but I can eat big fishes, pork and beef. Which basically means my meals at home will suck because all I can eat from our regular meals now are green vegetables.

I told her I've never had an allergy all my life, and told her [those areas] had more of insect bite-like bumps instead of a full-out rash, but she waved my concerns away. She merely said that allergies can come later in life, and that I would be feeling very uncomfortable for awhile. And that was that.


This will be the first time I've ever pooh-poohed the advice of a doctor. Even while she was saying it, I knew that after one or two days I would go back to eating chicken and eggs and ignoring any food restrictions, because I refuse to believe an allergic reaction would occur after 20 years over an hour of napping. Plus, all I had today was cereal and fried meehoon (which my maid has been cooking for years), so there is no visible trigger.

The thing was, she was so blasé and unconcerned about the whole thing! She barely looked at me or paid any attention to me, but kept scribbling stuff on her notepad. And I instantly disliked her for it. Aren't doctors supposed to be all intrusive to get the best diagnosis? Here I am trying to show her my affliction, and this dumb woman doesn't give a shit.

So I believe she was wrong wrong wrong. Which is so shocking to me because I've never ever questioned the advice of a medical practitioner before, maybe because I was so much younger the last time I went to a doctor. I've always believed health is important and I should always listen to the experts, but this is just way too far-fetched for me to rely on.

And this is horrible character development. I used to view doctors as miracle workers, but I suppose skepticism has manged to creep into near every aspect of my life now.


Anyway, after I got home, things got better and worse. Better, because the itching had ceased near completely; worse, because the bumps had swollen to about 10 times their earlier size and looked horrifying. So I took my pills (she prescribed 3 kinds) and applied calamine lotion and went about my day. Which is basically watching YouTube videos on the iPhone.

I decided to go check on the bumps about 40 minutes later, and was shocked to see that all the bumps had basically disappeared. There is still some redness at where the worst bumps were, but for the most part, how my body had looked merely 2 hours ago seemed like a bad dream. The whole incident seems so surreal now.

The entire line of events, from waking up covered in bumps, to this point where the bumps are near gone, occurred merely within a span of 3 hours. It feels like the rash thing never happened. It's a good thing my sister was with me the whole time today so I have an eye-witness on what happened, or else I wouldn't believe it myself.

I think I won't be taking any pills tomorrow; thank God she didn't prescribe antibiotics.

And I might just be having chicken later tonight.

__

Ok, I'm now editing this post at 11pm. It's been almost 4 hours since dinner, where I had both chicken and egg, and didn't take my allergy pills. All's good and well so far; I look and feel like nothing had ever happened. I guess maybe the sofa bugs got really horny today or something.

Life's good people! Never trust what anyone may say if your instinct tells you they're wrong!

...well actually you kinda should. Especially when it's your health and life on the line. So you shouldn't take things from me.

No lessons learnt today then!

This blogger believes noone should mess with papal elections.

Every now and again, some idiot goes and does something so completely moronic, I feel like screaming my head off. Today, I am literally boiling with rage, and I feel as if I am spitting fire while typing this post.

Today, this came out in the newspaper. Apparently, for the final round of the annual Dato' CQ Teo Debate Challenge organised by KDU Debate Association (KDUDA) this year, the motion was "This house believes that the people and not the cardinals should elect the pope." And the winning argument was construed around the stance that "religion does change to suit society, and it is the pope's job to guide this process".

I'll give a moment for that to sink in.

WHAT THE HELL?

So in essence, the church should change itself to suit the whims and fancies and desires of society nowadays? The Catholic church should open its arms to homosexual marriage and contraception and euthanasia and everything else, and leave behind the traditions that we have painstakingly maintained for over 2000 years??

We believe, that the Catholic church was founded by Jesus Christ himself when he made Peter the first leader/pope of the church. The Catholic church is steeped in tradition and symbols and all sorts of rituals that have stood the test of time. Change has occurred, don't get me wrong, but only in light of increasing efficiency (introducing Communion ministers and altar boys), or for safety reasons (Communion in many churches worldwide now do not require the congregation to drink the blood of Christ anymore as many have to share one cup).

Yes, minute changes. Changes that still maintain the true essence and legacy that Christ himself has paved. The church does not "change to suit society" in the revolutionary sense. Matthew 5: 13-14 tells us that we are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. Christians do not conform to the values of society. We stand true to all teachings of the church, no matter what. 

The Catholic church has refused to alter its doctrine throughout the course of history, despite many challenges that "religion should change to suit society". Even to the extent of undergoing the painful process of the separation of the church by those who could no longer believe in its principles. When brother turned against brother and sister against sister, the church still stood firm against the tide.

And the method of our papal election process is not up for debate. And never will it ever be.

Like almost everything about the Catholic church, the electing of the pope has many rituals involved. The true election process has historically been shrouded in secrecy, but we do know that the cardinals sit in a conclave and have their ballot while being guided by the Holy Spirit. However, the winning candidate is not chosen by the cardinals, but chosen by God Himself.

You see, after finding out who has won the vote, the ballots are burnt, and the famous smoke watch will tell us if the church has found a new leader. Black smoke bad, white smoke good. The cardinals have zero control over who gets selected as the pope in the end. Because like how Samuel had to go through all sons of Jesse before God revealed David to be His chosen King, the cardinals will have to go through the candidates until God tells them He has chosen the Pope.

Thus, the very idea that this process should be replaced by simple democracy makes me so furious. Why would anyone even contemplate messing with the discretion of the big guy upstairs to choose a shepherd for His people?

I believe I speak for a hugeass majority of Catholics, when I say that we don't need to have a say in who becomes the new pope. If he's good enough for God, he's more than good enough for us. And this is notion is manifested through Pope Francis himself, who wasn't one of the many frontrunners, but has immediately gained all our love through his many acts of humility. I do not believe he would have won if anyone else but God was in charge of the selecting, and I believe Papa Francisco be an amazing leader.

Despite all the above, I am not writing to nitpick at the winning team's arguments. The debaters clearly had zero knowledge about the papal elections at all (including the apparently Catholic opposition), but it wasn't their fault they got such a motion. 

I am flabbergasted at the sheer audacity of KDUDA to select such a motion for teams to debate on. Whoever authorised this, I can guarantee you that you will be hearing from many youth leaders all around Malaysia. Obviously, that person is not Catholic and had not done any prior research before deciding on such a sensitive topic. All you knew was that Pope Francis was elected, and wanted an immediate hot topic, without even consulting any Catholics on how debatable the issue was in the first place.

Have you no shame at all? Do you honestly believe that the principles of any established religion, not just Catholicism, should really be reformed? And you're allowing uninformed students to debate such a motion?

I have been a participant of the Dato CQ Teo Debate Competition myself 4 years ago. The final debate is held in a large hall, and is watched by all other participants as well as supporters. I am already so outraged by merely reading a short news article about the debate, I cannot imagine how enraged the informed Catholics present must have been. 

To have one of our sacred rituals challenged by people who know nothing about it, is something that no religion should ever have to go through. Off the top of my head, it like saying Muslims and Sikhs cannot wear any form of head covering because weapons may be concealed in there. 

I know those aren't rituals but I really don't know rituals of other religions. But I'm trying to convey that the proposed change affects something dear to the religion, and the change would affect the entire identity of the religion itself. 

So again KDUDA, what the hell?

The level of sheer ignorance and insensitivity you have displayed is unbecoming for an event organiser. Simply by being too lazy and foolish to do a tiny bit of background research, you have now insulted 1.2 million Catholics in the world. You have really goofed up big time, and I hope you plan to make a big apology.

I can't find the link anymore, but I remember that upon going through a plethora of "Habemus papam" posts on the internet at 2.30am once finding out that white smoke had arose from the conclave, there was one anonymous interviewed person, that said he wished he could find out about the papal elections through a tweet instead of through a smoke signal. A TWEET INSTEAD OF A SMOKE SIGNAL.

I hope I have previously explained the papal elections in a way that conveys how Catholics take pride in our traditions, and how truly magnificent and miraculous it is that God Himself declares to the world in such an open manner that a new pope has been chosen. You are literally messing with a miracle here.

The organising committee for the Dato CQ Teo Debate Competition is no different from that anonymous person. No respect for tradition, no respect for the religion and all its people. 

Shame on you!

Winning the break up.

You know, that phrase applies to friendships too. Not just bitter lovers.

We all have had falling outs with friends. And sometimes those fights are serious enough to make you realise that this person is a venomous pain in the arse that needs to be removed for your own wellbeing. So you both don't kiss and make up, but go along your separate paths.

What usually happens is, somewhere down the line, you will hear something about that person through the grapevine. And if your instincts were spot on, that person would usually have fallen to alcohol, drugs, been in a gang fight, failed their final paper, or just gotten really, really fat.

And you wonder if had you still stayed where you were, would you have ended up like them. Or if you could have helped them before they wound up in a downward spiral.

You pity them, of course you do. But whats the point of pity if it doesn't come with anything but a hollow expression of emotion? You don't extend a helping hand beyond saying "things will get better", that annoying sentence that has been uttered in response to any source of grief. That sentence alone would make anyone's anger flare up and tell you to GET LOST, YOU PATRONISING BASTARD.


Chances you'd have found them having changed for the better are slim to none. After all, you did end contact with that person for being an a-hole.

But chances you'll be friends with them again after this?

Nil.

__

'People change so fast', Rhiannon thought as she watched him walk away from her.

Rhiannon had never been the master of keeping in touch. She'd always earnestly promise to call or text, but would then get so caught up with other things that she'd forget all about it. By the time she thought of it, she was usually too shy and embarrassed to initiate any form of conversation after so long.

So she let such friendships die, convinced that it was for the best. 'I mean, if they missed me so much, wouldn't they have tried to contact me too?'

And then there were people who walked back in to her life. These were the rare people she liked enough to have a cup of coffee with to catch up and reminisce.

They'd talk and laugh for a few hours, and would say they missed old times, and they would genuinely mean it. But it doesn't (usually) translate to a renewed friendship where you both become best friends again. More often than not, you'll part with yet another promise to keep in touch, and thus the cycle continues.


Rhiannon wondered about the person he would be now if she hadn't neglected to keep in touch with him. He used to rely on her for everything; she was his sounding device, his therapist, his constant pillar of support.

Until she grew weary of his neverending grouses, and began to pull away from him. Rhiannon felt that every bright spark in her was being snuffed out by his dark, suffocating aura of misery. She wanted not to be dragged down into his pits of misery anymore, and promptly made herself unavailable to him and all his damn issues.

It probably wasn't the kindest thing Rhiannon had ever done, but it'd been months since she felt in control over her own self. She wanted her life and her happiness not to be dictated by his unpredictable mood swings. And selfishly, she thought it would do him good to try to learn to handle things alone for a change.


Oh, but he had.

He turned into an insensitive, unbearable, miserable excuse for a friend. He was so pissed off with her, he refused to act civil the next time they ran into each other.

But who could blame him? She knew she'd hurt him more than she should have, when she'd cut ties with him in that heated argument. She knew he wouldn't be greeting her with screaming bear hugs and exclamations of "HOW ARE YOU I'VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH!" She'd doubted that he'd even smile at her.

She wasn't prepared for the amount of anger and resentment he still had towards her. It was like he was stuck in a quicksand pit of his own negative emotions, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to reach in and help him or just walk away.

After all, she was only being polite when asking after how he had been, family-wise and school-wise and the like. She was completely caught off guard when he departed on an angry tangent by accusing her of being a patronising git. He claimed she had no real interest in anything his answers at all, and wasn't worth being friends with anymore.

Rhiannon silently wondered if he had came a little late to the "end of friendship" party. Clearly, she no longer had any idea of how to talk to this person after their huge separation, and she was threading on eggshells with all her standard questions and answers you would expect with any other distant friend. If she had sounded patronising, she certainly hasn't meant it.


But Rhiannon was enraged by his sudden accusations. After all, she had went way out of her comfort zone by reaching out to him after all this time, and while had not expected him to extend arms of friendship, she hadn't signed up for being called names either.

She decided to bitch about it online or all the world to see, not bothering to censor his name or what he had said. It was probably one of the things she most regretted doing in her life. Rhiannon was an extremely private person and had never before aired her dirty laundry so openly in public.

Needless to say, the fight got worse and worse. Hurtful words were said, tears were shed, and things were horrible all around. A ceasefire was finally called for, and this time, the parting in friendship was a mutual decision.


Rhiannon never admitted it, but she was secretly pleased that she had made the right conclusion about him earlier, before the second big fight. Clearly, they had both moved on with their lives, and no longer needed each other. And Rhiannon wasn't about to start hanging around with people that would bring out the worst in her either.

Very recently, she saw him from a distance, and he passed by without even noticing her. And Rhiannon could not help but feel evilly gleeful at his much apparent weight gain, while she was healthier and happier with life as ever. Though it held no bearing whatsoever on the kind of person he was now, she couldn't help but think that karma had come back to bite him in the ass.


Rhiannon felt she had won the break up.

Because that's what happens when you can look back on all the time that has elapsed since cutting that friend out of your life, and announce with confidence, that "I'm better off without you". No malice is involved, but just a realisation of how that person had been such a negative presence, with a conscious resolution to never be dragged down by him again. Ever.

__

I'm better off without you.

The Story of A Fat Girl (Episode 2)

(Read Episode 1 here.)


"Hey Julia, why don't you join a gym?" Asks a good friend of mine, with no ill intent; just because a group of college friends have very recently become gym members.

Why indeed.

What reasons could I possibly have to not want to make myself more attractive? I mean, if I'd just take a few hours out of my day to work out, I'd be a hot beach babe in no time, right?

But then again, I really couldn't care less about becoming hot. At least, not right now when my finals are only two months away. I mean sure, it's not like I couldn't spend a little less time on my smartphone and go break a sweat, but I just can't be bothered.

I have never been skinny all my life. And almost every single day I get some idiot poking fun at my weight. It never ever fails to sting, but if it had mattered that much to me, I would've become anorexic or bulimic many years ago.


Right now however, I'm just happy and comfortable with my body. Sure, I have dark days where I consider doing very unhealthy things, but for the most part I'm a plump, carefree person surrounded by family and friends who love me very much. If I had lost my support system, no doubt my focuses in life would have been very different, so I am very blessed and grateful for them.

Losing weight has been a neverending struggle for me for 11 years now. Pictures tell me that my weight fluctuates from year to year, but it has more or less stabilised in the past 2 years. Since I am far from being obese or overweight (according to BMI checks), all my extra weight serves to do is make me less physically appealing to the opposite sex. Females unsurprisingly love me because I never pose a threat in their conquests, and I'm always the ugly hag that tags along and basks in their shimmering wake of beauty.

Another reason would maybe be that losing weight isn't as much an issue for me as staying healthy. I have 2 dance lessons per week, and usually do my own exercises on the other alternate days. Despite my weight problem, fitness has never been an issue for me. I know I'm physically capable of much more than others would perceive, but I suppose my diet is just too unhealthy for my weight to drop, and I'm far too undisciplined when it comes to any sort of dieting.

I can never skip meals, but I can generally control snacking impulses, unless it involves baked goods. My main problem would be that I eat out fairly often, and we all know there's nothing even remotely healthy with Malaysian street food. And I'm also a "live to eat" kind of person, so the desire to indulge usually prevents any sort of weight loss.

I know of some people that willingly starve themselves to lose weight. Especially those that subsist on meal replacement shakes and eat nothing else. I admire their discipline, but I honestly think those people are crazy, and are letting the good things in life pass them by. Life's too short to not enjoy your meals!

Maybe when my finals are over I'll consider making more drastic changes in my life. But for now, I remain a contented slob with my nasi lemaks and maggi gorengs.


But why is the world so crazily fixated with looks? Are good looking people really superior to the less fortunate folk, that they really deserve better jobs and greater opportunities? Have we really reached the shallow point of human existence where plastic surgery has become a normalcy?

This isn't just about maintaining a perfect figure, but also having the perfect facial features. One must have the double eyelids, the small sharp nose, the clear skin, and the complete lack of any scars or disfigurement. The pressure is on for us to all look like Kens and Barbies, and the cruel reality is almost everyone that have unattractive looks will be looked down on.

And I really don't understand why this is. Especially because we're all born with different genes, and it's not anyone's fault if he/she was born ugly; but as long as they're kind-hearted people, why should they be treated as second-class citizens? With fat people, I suppose the ludicrous justification is that we're just too lazy and incapable of taking care of our health, and therefore will not be able to manage any other responsibilities. Whenever someone we know gains weight, we usually view it as her "letting herself go" and "losing her grip", when instead it's just her finding other priorities in life more pressing.

I can't remember the number of times I've been brushed aside conversationally, because some "cool" people that think I'm not attractive enough completely ignore me. It's insulting and demeaning, and makes me want to punch that person. Thanks for making me feel inferior, jerk.

But truth be told, I think we're all guilty of sometimes not wanting to be publicly seen associating with certain people, simply because of how they look or act. We easily feel embarrassed when dealing with such a spectacle in public view, and may tend to be selectively deaf to what that person has to say. So I suppose I'm not as victimised as I initially thought.


We keep being taught that looks are inconclusive, and it's "what's on the inside that counts". However, this ideology, much like all other Hollywood crap, has almost no place in our shallow world today. People are so fixated on looks that anyone who is fat or ugly don't stand a chance in getting ahead in life.

By which I mean, if the pretty and ugly worker had the exact same attitude and skill set, the pretty one would undoubtedly be promoted over the ugly one. The only way the ugly one would be chosen instead would be if she were completely outstanding. And the same thing goes with guys. The less attractive ones never get picked by the hotter guys, because everyone wants an "equal" partner.

The only time one would care to look beneath the surface, is when both candidates are equally attractive. A pretty face will take you so far these days, it doesn't even seem worth it to have a good personality to go with it. Because everyone judges on first impressions, and sad to say, the unattractive people will never get as much attention as those in the figure-hugging pencil skirts on perilously high stilettos.

It's times like this where I think guys have it easy. Guys aren't expected to maintain a perfect figure at any time to succeed. As long as they're not grossly overweight, they are automatically deemed as attractive. Matter of fact, chubby guys are even preferred by some girls, and call them cute and cuddly. And there ain't no right-minded guy that ever had such a preference for chubby girls.


So really now; why don't I want to lose weight again if life sucks so much being fat?

At this point, it's all due to laziness to change my eating habits, and also due to the aforementioned upcoming finals and comfortable social life.

I suppose it's also a matter of self-confidence. Most of the time, I'm pretty confident with how I look despite my weight (nice shoes help), so I feel that all's right with the world. But there are times when it seems as if everyone hates me and is giving me superior stares, and it's these times when I hole myself up and attempt horrible things.

There is a dark side of me that wonders if I enjoy being chubby to be able to continue playing the victim card. Because I'm already smart enough and pretty enough, so if this major unattractive aspect was removed and nothing in my life changed, it would mean there much worse is wrong with me. And it's something I'm not eager to find out about.

So it's back to binge eating we go.

Wherefore art thou, Romeo?

It's that time of the year again everybody. That special day where love peppers the air with confetti sparkles wherever you turn, that time where flowers and chocolates and teddy bears are received with delighted shrieks, that season when romance wears a crown in all hearts. Valentine's Day.

Oh wait. It's been 5 days since V-Day, because I was far too lazy to finish editing this during the Chinese New Year break. Oops, sorry!

If you're a single, bitter shrew like myself, you dread that bloody day all week. All your loved up friends are being more sickeningly sweet than usual, and you just can't see what all the fuss is about. I mean, it's just another day, and it's been over-commercialised anyway, because shouldn't love be expressed every single day, and and and...WHERE IS MY BLOODY VALENTINE DAMNIT.

I have never celebrated Valentine's Day before. Ever.

I mean, I have gotten gifts before from friends and past boyfriends alike, but I've never been taken out on a Valentine's Date. Never got dolled up and picked up and wined and dined and the works. I've never even received a bouquet of roses before, sigh.

In previous years, mostly I have been nonchalant about this, always believing true love would be right around the corner. Some years have been worse than others, especially times in high school where your friends would receive huge gifts from their boyfriends, which would be on their desks the whole day for everyone to admire. Sometimes it penetrates my happy bubble and makes me feel a little lonely and jealous.

But this year really does take the cake. I mean, I hit the milestone of 20 this year. Everyone's been teasing me about my age, and it has been making me wonder about what I've achieved in my life so far. And of course, since V-Day is here, it has made me realise how pathetically single I have been all my life.

Just because of my bloody standards. My beau must not be anything less than sexy, smart, witty, and absolutely besotted with me. Damn. Why can't I just accept an existing offer and just go along with it?

Well, it's because I haven't reached the required level of desperation yet. I still choose to believe that one day my dashing knight in shining armour will come, and will not settle for anything less than Prince Charming.

I found out a few days ago that the day before Valentine's Day is unofficially known as Desperation Day. Yes, I am that outdated. And it has provided me with the cold comfort that at least there are single people out there in a much worse mental state than I'm in.

Which leads me to the point of this post: not my barren love life, but my personal categorisation of the four levels of participants of D-Day. Patent pending.

(These categorisations were made for fun, and not meant to be taken seriously. Lighten up people!)


Level One: No fish in the sea.

This is the safe zone. The zone where you're not particularly thrilled to be alone on V-Day, but there has just been no eligible candidates this far. The good ones always seem to be taken (or gay), and the remainder just don't seem to cut it.

The key factor here needs to be that you cannot find anyone that you want to be with, and not that nobody wants to be with you. Thus, the fine line between being choosy, and being unchosen.

It needn't be that something is wrong with every guy out there, even though we all know 99% of guys are jerks and the rest gay. But we all have good friends of the opposite sex and things remain fully platonic. There just seems to be noone out there that can catch your fancy; and noone, as I am especially fond of saying, that you share a frizzion with.

If you have a candidate in mind already, but you're still working on your game plan, then you're not counted as a desperate person per se, because you're only desperate for that one person. You are not considered as a true participant of D-Day in my books, unless you fit into Level Three, which we'll get to in a bit.

If you're a resident of Level One, congratulations! It means that you still are unwilling to compromise your standards, and that you will most likely end up very lonely and the owner of many cats.

Or, your desperation status will level up.


Level Two: Grab somebody sexy tell 'em hey!

This is the part where one becomes so driven by desperation that standards no longer matter. As long as the other person is interested in you and holds decent conversation, then they're in! And if the other person has no social abilities to speak of but has a rockin' body, the compromise of standards becomes an immediate no-brainer.

At this level, you basically take a turn at anything that comes your way. You take advantage of any opportunity that arises, even though you are crystal clear that there is no way any of these will go beyond a fling. Because anything is better than being alone at that point.

We all know people that have practically never been single, and is always in a new relationship almost immediately after the previous one ends. Those people, that cannot function as a single entity, are the epitomes of Level Two Desperation.

Again, the key factor is that people actually want to be with you. You're just desperate enough to be completely undiscerning about your offers.

These accepted offers include, but are not limited to, the guy that won't stop telling you how hot you are and never says anything else, the persistent manchild that attaches himself to you whenever you're around, the quiet geek that sends you a rose of Valentine's, the guy that grinds beside you in the club, and of course, the guys that bug you online with "mind intro/I want to get to know you/asl?".

Oh I'm sorry, none of those guys seem at all desirable? Well, that's the whole point of Level Two. Your date filter no longer exists, you desperate slut.


Level Three: I know everything about you.

After Level Two, the remaining participants of D-Day are much less lucky. This is the turning point, where the participants happen to not have any admirers, despite desperately seeking a relationship.

I should clarify that there is nothing wrong with not having admirers. You could be lovely, but because people are completely shallow, the fact is that if you're physically unattractive, you tend to be overlooked. My advice is learn a crowdpleasing skill, like beatboxing or magic tricks or any form of instrument, because girls are all suckers for men on stage. If you're a girl, either show more skin or lose more weight, because men are dogs.

Again, these categorisations only apply to desperate people, not those completely nonchalant about their single status. Calm your tits everyone.


What does a desperate person do if he can't seem to find anyone that wants to be with him? Throw in the towel and embrace celibacy? Unlikely.

So enter Level Three Desperation: The Internet Stalker.

At this level, you stalk anyone whom you are attracted to. On the Internet, because noone does old-fashioned physical stalking anymore, and people post too much personal information online anyway.

You like every Facebook entry and photo she's tagged in, you like every Instagram photo she posts, you favourite every tweet she makes. From all these platforms, you piece together the tiny bits she lets the world see, and paint a pretty personality to go with her pretty face.

You have never had a real conversation with her before, but you suddenly feel like you completely understand her. You feel like she has become your friend, and that she now matters in your life.

Your mood changes in accordance to the tone she post updates in. You feel happy when she indicates she's happy and sad when she indicates she's sad.

You can never go more than a few hours without checking for updates on all her social platforms. You become extremely agitated if for any reason you cannot check for updates. You are extremely protective of your smartphone and laptop, lest anyone sees your favourites page is full of her sites.

You fap to their hot pictures. Because you're a creepy Internet weirdo.

In the end, you have become someone in an imaginary relationship. You know that you will never stand a real chance with this girl precisely because you're so creepy, and this one-sided romance is good enough for you.

Until you become so disillusioned into thinking she's the only one for you that you start trying to talk to her, hoping she will respond and love will bloom. Only to have her give you the cold shoulder at every turn, thus crushing all your fantasies and your poor little heart.

Unless she's a Level Two desperado.


Level Four: Tits or gtfo.

This is it guys, the lowest point anyone can reach, without resorting to acts that go against nature.

This is where one goes on Omegle or ChatRoulette or any other site that allows for randomised video chatting. You know, the ones where most webcams are trained onto the guy's knob. And where females are desperate enough to flash their boobs at anyone who asks.

The thing is, you're not going there for a laugh or because you're bored. You're actually hoping that you'll find someone you can connect with, amongst all the horny weirdos out there. You actually believe that you can find love by baring it all.

Put simply, this is where you completely lose it. You've become so desperate, you've lost all sense of sanity. You've hit the state where you're striving to obtain any form of attention from the opposite sex on the other side of the video connection, because real life females won't have anything to do with you.

You should see a counsellor. Because nothing good ever comes out of Internet dating, you fool.

/end.


And there we have it. The kind of things I think about during Valentine's season to try to make myself feel a little better about being so unchangeably single.

Let's hope next year will be the year I break this damned single streak, and finally be taken out for an actual romantic Valentine's Date. If not, I think I'd better visit the animal shelter on V-Day 2014 and get myself started on being a lonely old catlady.

Meow.