SANTA BABYYYYY....

now i'm still at work, been real busy, hence the lack of posts... but i'm feeling chrismassy. so i went hunting for christmas songs..

been keeping myself sane by dancing at work after everyone's left :P

i've got several really nice fave christmas songs, but here's one of my faves... (not approved by the GIRM (for those non-Catholics: ?guidelines something something *yawn yawn* Roman Missal) for church masses, of course :P)

this is sung by the pooooddy cat dolls... PCD... oh hello hellooooo..... and snoop dogg's (snoopy baby.. LOL!) in it. :P yeah i dance to this at work since i'm in the holiday mood already (minus the holidays, fuck it!)

now the only thing missing is the itty bitty santarina outfit ;) who's gonna get me that one? i got me fmbs this year, since i been a reeaaaalllll good girl :P so just the outfit would do :P



and here's the original Eartha Kitt... i couldn't find an older version of the song which she did solo, so i guess this would do. but OMG... she's SOOOO OLD... what, almost 90? but she still has legs like that :P there's hope for us yet. LOL.



oh and here's one with big tittied cartoon characters ;P oh yeah, someone likened me to betty boop, but i like her, so who cares :D



LOL... and THIS is by a drag queen: gloria von rottenhole (? ROFLMAO. cue Grey's Anatomy's SERIOUSLY? SERIOUSLY? SERIOUSLY!!) man, is s/he a DIVA....



Kylie's live on Leno. HELLOOOOO MAMA ;) this woman proves hot things come in lil packages. honestly, though, she shoulda done without the lousy dancers. classier that way.



sing along with me now:

Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree,
For me.
been an awful good girl,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Santa baby, a 54 convertible too,
Light blue.
I'll wait up for you dear,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Think of all the fun I've missed,
Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed,
Next year I could be just as good,
If you'll check off my Christmas list,

Santa baby, I wanna yacht,
And really that's not a lot,
Been an angel all year,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Santa honey, there's one thing I really do need,
The deed
To a platinum mine,
Santa honey, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Santa cutie, and fill my stocking with a duplex,
And checks.
Sign your 'X' on the line,
Santa cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight.

Come and trim my Christmas tree,
With some decorations bought at Tiffany's,
I really do believe in you,
Let's see if you believe in me,

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing,
A ring.
I don't mean on the phone,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight,
Hurry down the chimney tonight,
Hurry, tonight.

oh, btw, before i sign off today, I LUUUURRRRVVVEEEE JOEYSIA!! ;)

christmas around the corner!

i've been so darn busy at work, i almost forgot christmas is less than a month away until going on joey's multiply reminded me...

so i tuned in to christmas radio.. and i started dancing to Jingle Bell Rock :P

christmas had always been a favourite season.. all that altruistic love and happy jolly feeling. easter is a time for somber spiritual development, christmas... christmas is a time for the young and young at heart to be all lovey-dovey :P a time for giving and good will all around.

and the parties!! year-end parties are the best!

i miss christmas at home. in a place that's majority christian, with the hugest catholic cathedral in the nation, u can feel the excitement strumming through the air by late october. that buzz... the preparation for christmas choir and christmas carolling...christmas deco everywhere... christmas songs blasting everywhere, every shopping area would be playing christmas jingles.

dammit... i miss christmas at home. i had planned to go back this year, but my parents would be around instead. which is great, i miss them, but there's nothing like going back to the cathedral where you spent every sunday as a girl staring at the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows casting shadows of a myriad colours over the pews. and you're wondering how they got the glass such a brilliant blue, or red, or green. and you're thinking... it's so pretty. and when you're bored, you run outside to climb the walls of the church with the other children. while your parents prayed inside, you played outside :P but always, you go back inside to look for mommy.

then as you grew older, you became an out-standing catholic... cos the cathedral was too darn hot for you at times... but the bigger reason was that it was so much fun half-listening to the sermons while staring at fashion parade outside... the peacocks were so pretty, dressed in the latest converse bags and shoes. the bold and the beautiful were always outside at sunset mass, whether or not they were catholics :)

then you left school, and every time you could go home and go to church was precious, so this time you sat inside, and prayed like your parents did, and you'd meet friends outside after mass. guess you grew up, somewhat.

all those years, church on sundays, first friday masses in school, school feastday masses, days of obligation, and you fidgeted at the thought of staying the entire duration of the mass in church, especially 2 to 2 1/2 hour long high masses. yet now you would rather spend easter triduum and christmas season at home. odd how things turn out.

who wants to watch christmassy movies with me?

I’ll be home for Christmas,
You can count on me,
Please have snow, and mistletoe,
And presents ‘neath the tree.
Christmas Eve will find me,
Where the lovelight gleams,
I’ll be home for Christmas,
If only in my dreams…
Christmas Eve will find me,
Where the lovelight gleams,
I’ll be home, I’ll be home,
If only in my dreams…

and my customary Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Christmas future is far away,
Christmas past is past,
Christmas presents are here to stay,
Bringing joy that may last
Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Let your heart be light,
In a year, our troubles will be out of sight
Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Make the Yuletide gay,
In a year, our troubles will be miles away
Here we are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore,
Precious friends who are dear to us,
Gather near to us once more
In a year, we all will be together,
If our fates allow,
Until then, we’ll just have to muddle through somehow,
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

Christmas hugs and kisses all around! :P

oh wait... that's in 3 weeks time :)

listening to: Jim Brickman's Greensleeves on Merry Christmas Radio

The Precipice Pt. 3

Friday. 08.06.2007. 2033 hours.

It's been a long time. It feels like forever since I've been plunged headlong, and I've walked the Valley of Darkness.

The screams. The cries. The moans. The gritting of teeth. The stench of death. The pain all around. The seemingly endless road to travel. No stops. No rest. Only exhaustion. Only pain. Travelling that endless road filled with dark gravel, crawling on my knees. With all that torture, all that gore, all that blood, all that tears around me.

I've only come to realise that it's all mine. That endless mire of frustration and exhaustion is mine.
The tears are mine.
The blood is mine.
The screams,
the groans,
the moans,
the cries,
the gritting of teeth.
They all belong to me.
The stench of death is the stench of my death.
The pain is mine.
The long road is mine.
It's all mine.

He may have taken me to the precipice, he may have pushed me off it. But I didn't climb. It took me so long to realise that all the horrors of that valley belonged to me. Yet I stupidly trudged on, on my knees, hoping to find light at the end of that darkness.

Who was I to call him stupid? I was even more so. How much better am I, when I did the exact same thing he is doing, just because he took me along?

I could've climbed. But I chose to stay. And walk on my knees. Maybe I thought he needed someone to walk with him. Maybe I thought he'd be sad and lonely. Maybe I thought he'd walk with me. But he'd all but disappeared. He had always been walking with someone else, and that someone else is the one he chooses to walk with, while I had to walk the route alone.

Yes, I am disappointed in him. But that is nothing compared to the disappointment I feel in myself.

He is a fool, yes. But I am a bigger one.

And to hear both being shouted over the tops of the mountains by trusted friends was enough to set things in motion for me.

I shall not live in the darkness of my blindness any longer. Not when there's surgery available.

If he still chooses to traverse that darkness, so be it. I can't change a stupidly arrogant and stubborn boy-man, who refuses to listen. I won't even try.

If he wants to waste his time, he can. But I refuse to let him waste mine anymore.

The route has been cut through the valley. There's now a path of escape. The price to pay, like everything in life, is to cut off the shackles binding my hands and feet. That I must do myself. And the climbing, I have to do on my own.

He could come with me. I have shown him what the valley was, and the path to freedom.

But I can't cut his shackles, and I can't do his climbing for him. That he must do on his own.

All children learnt to crawl and walk on their own. All children stumble and fall. All children were taught and encouraged to walk properly, but they have to do the walking and stumbling and getting up again on their own.

Someone commented we looked almost alike. That we looked good together. Like a pair. Like we have an amazingly strong bond, a chemistry. After seeing us only once. For a few hours. When we barely spoke to each other. Maybe. Maybe we have a bond, a chemistry. Complicity. Maybe we look good together. Like each other.

Well, so what? Yes, chemistry and bond is important, but there's only so much that can do.

For instance, take ballroom dancers. A perfectly matched ballroom-dancing couple can make the art look so effortless, so easy, so heartbreakingly beautiful. It's like they move as one, although they're separate entities. Like they were born to it.

But no matter how perfectly matched they are, and how wonderful they look together, it counts for nothing if one partner refuses to dance.

Bond, or no bond, chemistry or no chemistry, glorious perfection or not, it amounts to nothing. Nada. Zilch.

I'd do better to dance with someone else.

Funny how the only thing he could say in response, after the stunned silence all around when another party clarified the situation, was: 'No, I don't have that many pimples.'

For an articulate, wordy, sarcastic girl, after the first initial bombshell, this hurtful rudeness left me speechless. But perhaps my silence was more than enough to make a statement. Even his friend said: 'That wasn't a nice thing to say.'

No. It wasn't. He isn't nice. He may like to think he is, but he isn't.

If I were to count his sins, big and small, against me, it would take an entire lifetime of utter devotion to make it up to me, and then some.

Barring his parents, he probably owes me more than he owes anyone else in his life. To be used as a tool and then discarded isn't a nice feeling at all.

He isn't nice. Not at all. And I was stupid.

He can stay and rot with the perpetrator of all his nastiness and negativity, since that's what he wishes. The longer he stays, the worse he'll become, but that could no longer be my concern.

He probably doesn't realise that nastiness eats at the soul. He's becoming soul-less. I could not believe he said what he did, so swiftly, so humiliatingly, so publicly. The longer he stays there, the worse he's become. It's like the men of Pirates' Davy Jones' Flying Dutchman.

Part of the ship, one with the ship. Ugly, misshapen, horrendous to look at. He's turning into that. Part of the nastiness. One with the nastiness.

He's nasty. He wasn't in the past, when I knew him first, but he is now. And which matters more, really? The past, or the present? We can't change our past. But it's our present that shapes the future. So many people forget that.

If he so chooses, I'd take his hand, and we'd make that climb together. But I won't wait for him. With or without him, I'm making that climb out of this hellhole. The love and support of my friends awaits me. Happiness and brightness awaits me. Laughter and peace awaits me. After all that personal suffering that I bore so long on my own, I deserve to bask in the light of the honest and the true. And the genuine and the caring.

Unlike Bond, I get only one shot at life. Now that I have to work late nights in KL City Centre itself, I might get viciously raped and brutally murdered walking home tomorrow. I'd never know. He's wasted enough of my time. He's plunged me, unwary, without warning, into abyssmal darkness. His abyss. His darkness. The blackness of his increasingly soul-less spirit. And he made it mine.

Now that I've found a way out, he can come with me, and I'd take his hand, if he so chooses. Only if he wants to. But I won't wait. With, or without him, I'm making that climb.

Chinese New Year

Chinese New Year

Spent it thinking. And missing home.

I miss:

1) My family. The family gatherings at my house, though Dad's one of the younger sons. The raucous laughter at the dinner table, the gambling, the teasing, the fussing over food.

2) My friends. Geez, I haven't met them for ages.

3) The food. Need I say more? Fried prawns. Angzhao pork. Stewed pork trotters in black soysauce. Steamed fish Teochew style. Stewed duck in spices. Vegetables cooked just right. And much much more. Dammit.

4) The smell of gunpowder. Firecrackers, man. Ask my friend Jo about where to get the longest firecrackers, and he'd tell ya. Hehehe.... It's Kuching. What's CNY without the firecrackers?

5) The visiting. Last year when I stopped, we'd done 13 houses from 10-4. I wonder what's this year's record? :P

I MISS CNY. I miss home. This is the FIRST time since 2001 that I've ever felt homesick. Shit....