In Memory of Puddles

And so she went.

The vet said she was anaemic, her right ear had closed up, and she couldnt walk. So putting her to sleep was the gentlest thing to do if we didnt want her operated on since she was suffering, apparently.

Puddles, you will be sorely missed by all of us who loved you the moment we looked at you. You were too good to be true.

I do really believe that animals have souls, and i will see Puddles somewhere one day.

Papa and mummy found a golden retriever yesterday. Found leh. Found. In my opinion that's like finding gold (well yah, it was kind of... being a golden retriever and all). The poor huge, shiny, furry blob was stuck at on a division between two roads. And since it refused to move, being quite traumatized, possibly suicidal, papa scooped it up and dumped it into the car. And at this point i must protest: Papa never allows Baeng into the car, for fear that he will scratch the leather and smear drool all over the windows. And on that argument, he refuses to being him anywhere. And now he practically shoves a strange dog into the back seat. How does he know the dog doesnt have a colossal infestation of fleas? Or, say, motion sickness tendencies? Hmph. I am most disgruntled. Clearly he is showing favouritism. Baeng is family okay! Now that's probably why Baeng wanted to kill the dog when we dragged it past his cage to the kitchen bathroom. This led to exile in my room.

In the bathroom, papa lifted the dog's leg and promptly pronounced it a boy, but a very young one since his thingys didnt look very developed. So mei and i christened it Robert, and thought ourselves very funny. The poor doggy was terribly lethargic and very unusually docile. It just lay there. Wherever it was placed, it just slopped into a lying position and looked like it'd given up on life. After some food and water we did manage to get it to stand up and walk a bit, but it gave up when it reached the living room and slopped onto the floor like a mini mudslide. We subsequently gave the dog to Ruth and it's still at Eryiyi's place now. That lucky little titch... she got a free dog.

Further examination proved that the dog was in fact, a girl, not a boy (or possible eunuch). Which led us to the speculation that she was either pregnant, or very obese. She is BIG, has difficulty getting up, walking and is generally very stony. I think she's fat and very sad for some reason. She looks like she's pining for something or someone. Poor dog. I hope it gets better.

Well, that left the name up for debate again. Mei and i still stuck to Robert even though the dog was female. We thoguht it was nice and uniquely weird, but apparently no one else thought so. Ruth offered Momo, to which the general reaction was MOMO?! There ensued a heated discussion in uncle weng's car about the dog's name, and after a while:

Unc Weng: Why dont we sit down with it and repeat every single name there is? Then it will respond to whatever name it was called before! Surely it was called something before right...
Eryiyi: Ahhh... okay!
Vera: But what if it belonged to an Indian family?
Everyone ponders...
Eryiyi (with a tone of one enlightened): RAJISWARI!
Ruth (with an equally enlightened smile): Ohhhhhh!!! That's the president's name right?

HAHAHA RUTH IS DAMN CUTE. So small and skinny and squishable.

And with that, we named her Puddles.

I dont really like it. It's weird.

UHm.

I've had particularly large amounts of praise scattered like beauteous, colourful sprinkles in my general direction this week. And i do believe my head is expanding quite rapidly, because one of my flaws have always been a sickening complacency . Dear Jesus, please help me. I wont be pretty anymore with a ponderous head. WhoOps.

"Wah! Your daughter so pretty!!!"
or
"I wish i could write like you."

Oh please just smack me. Or jab me with a sharp object. How perfectly sickening if i became conceited! So i thought i'd blog it. You know, confess it before God and men. And knock some sense into me.

Anyway, Papa has these silly, rather tiring meetings he has to attend i think every week or so. Theyre alternatively chaired by the Minister or the Permanent Secretary, called MSM (Minister Something Meeting) and PSSM (Permanent Secretary Something Meeting). And apparently theyre so important and top secret that Assistant Directors have to act as secretaries while Minister... ministers. So poor papa, very luckily the Chosen One for 3 months or so, has to listen very intently to everyone, scribble stuff he sometimes cant read, and then imagine up minutes in 24 hours after the meeting. And it's damn stressful cos PS is going to vet it, and Minister is going to read it. So all i can say is: Heng it's not me man!!!

We went gallivanting today during lunch hour, papa and i. To relief stress on papa's part, and because i always gallivant anyway, on mine. He suggested that i drink apple juice today instead of milo since, he claims, it's like drinking the whole fruit what. But i said, dont they use the machine where you poke fruit down the tube thing and the pulp doesnt get in? Where got people make juice in the blender one? So we argued until we betted $4 on who was right... and I won.

At Junction8 there was this sale thing in the atrium and we wandered around a bit. Papa was poking around one of the racks:

Papa (pointing to a black mass of cloth): This skirt will be nice for mei ah!
Vera: Papa... that's a halter neck.

One leather bag at half price (completely out of my own purse) later, papa ate, and i drank lunch, and we hurried back to work terribly late.

The End. gasp.

Dear Mac,

Daryl's attempt at writing my letter to inform McMaster that i will not be returning after summer:

"dear sirs i deeply regret to inform you that my presence in the school would be terminated from ____(date) onwards, i know it'll be a great loss to you and would affect your grades tremedously, i would also like to edify and encourage the teachers by letting them know that they are greatly apprectiated."

Daryl, your words have been immortalized. Give thanks and rejoice.

Featuring: The Deyao.

deyao. says:
i think i should start a movement

deyao. says:
"Save the Deyao Hair Fund"

THERE WAS A BOY. says:
HAHHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHA

THERE WAS A BOY. says:
CONGRATS

THERE WAS A BOY. says:
THATS GOING ON MY BLOG

THERE WAS A BOY. says:
TOO FUNNY ALREADY

THERE WAS A BOY. says:
HAHAHHAHAAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAAHHA

deyao. says:
WOOHOO!

deyao. says:
i feel so honored

deyao. says:
i wanna thank God first.

deyao. says:
and my mummy and daddy for giving me curly hair

deyao. says:
so that i can start this movement.

THERE WAS A BOY. says:
HAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHA!!!!

HELP MEEEE!

I'm so, so, SO, SO INCREDIBLY BORED. I cant even IMAGINE what to do! *fiddles around with the highlighters.*

I wish i could have a paper pellet fight. =(

Changing Mirrors.

Today while staring intently at the vanity mirror, trying to do my eyelashes:

Papa: Eh can you share the mirror. I need to see. Go to the other one la.
Vera: But i was here first! Use the other one la. Bigger what. Full length leh.
Papa: But i like this one... Eh 'scuse leh.
Vera: Haiyer okay la. (Carries stuff to other mirror) Why you dont like this one?
Papa: Huh? Oh because the small one makes me look slimmer.
Vera: Means it's lying to you!
Papa: No.
Vera: YaAahhh.
Papa: Okay la. This mirror shows how i really look.
Vera: Yah right Doo! I think this is going on my blog.

Air, Laughter, and a Sparrow.

Just as long as air and laughter are free, i'll generally be happy. What a sad day it'll be when we have to pay 10 cents per chuckle.

Also,

Oh Jack Sparrow, i love you.

And Will.

But i love you more.

PIRATE FEVER!!!

*yells threateningly, brandishing two cutlasses, a pistol, and a wooden leg all at once*

Bring out the rum! Drink up me hearties Yo Ho!

In Light of the Situation.

Ow. Sneezing hurts my uterus.
(This has nothing to do with anything else in this post. Hence the line below.)

______________________________________

On the 23rd of July, Vera decided that this indicipline wouldnt do. Nope. If others had been doing crazy fasting for 3 weeks and had every intention of continuing with all sincerity, then why was she inhaling meat like she was doing, although she said she wouldnt? She came before God and confessed, highly ashamed, and vowed that she would singlemindedly go through with her plan of fasting for lunch everyday up to the 9th of August.

She would survive only on milo from 10 to 7.

It's the 26th of July, and despite of a mild fainting spell drama yesterday after she neglected her life-line milo, she presses on. WOOHOO! In fact, she was so fervent and fixed on her new goal, that she influenced the Papa to fast on said day of the fainting spell, which lead to this conversation today:

Papa: Are you coming for lunch with us today?
Vera: Okay.
Papa: Ay. Not fasting already ah?
Vera: Fasting... Drink milo.
Vera (looking scandalized): Eh i thought you're fasting???
Papa: Yahhh... eat fruits la. Or veg. Or zhai mai fun.
Vera: Huh i thought you were skipping lunch like me? Zhai mai fun is full blown lunch already leh!
Papa: Uh. No la... I'm not skipping la. Eat something simple.

Then in the car on the way to lunch:

Papa: I think I just eat fish la.
Vera: FIIISH?? gasp That's worse!
Papa: Aiya. Fish is healthy!
Vera: So?
Papa: Fish is okay what. I wont eat meat la. Fish can la.
Vera: Fish is a vegetable??
Papa: Good for cholesterol! My cholesterol getting higher. Better not eat red meat and all that.

So in the light of the situation, i had a milo peng for lunch and Papa had beef noodle soup with tendon.

Of Pretty Things.

Now we shall all look at pretty things.

All click this now:
http://razzlebedazzle.blogspot.com/

It's a blog by my friend Felicia (WHO IS GETTING MARRIED. i want to get married too). She makes fantabulously pretty jewellery, and *HINT HINT* i like the Thumbelina Necklace.

My Best Friend and I.

My heart pounds. My breath comes short and fast. Emotions are magnified, and my hands shake with unexplained excitement. Suddenly the fly scuttling up and down my table like a little vehicle (vehicle: thats what beany calls me sometimes haha) seems facinating. What in the world is happening? Why does the Vera feel like she could rush along the corridors between the little cubicles singing "We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz!" on such a sickeningly mundane, grey-skied morning? Not to mention, she also really needs to pee right about now.

Could it be LOVE? (At this mother sits up, and work suddenly loses what interest it has)

Whahahaha! But no! This unfortunately is not exactly the case this time (even though love has similar effects, yes). It's time now to introduce my new best friend:

Caffeine!

clapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclap!

I am very convinced that this is the answer to all my boredom and suffering i endure in the name of character building. Because look!, 930am has suddenly morphed into 1210pm in what seems like two thirds of an hour, and i'm not in the least sick of living! WOOHOO! Plus what's better, is that i'm enjoying writing again.

So with the help of my best bud, i will brave my storms and all that danger (or rather the lack of), with my head held high in a caffeine high, spirits soaring among pretend pink clouds made of cotton candy, shivering with untold anticipation. And I say HOORAY! and YIPPEE! for the inventor of the coffee bean.

Now time for another cup of bean essence...

Balding.

In the elevator lobby today:

Vera ( gleefully): Papa, i wonder what you'd look like when you're balding.
Papa gives horrified look.
Vera: I can't imagine leh.
Papa: I won't la! Won't one.
Vera: But you will someday...
Papa (glares): No.

YELP

I wish. I want. Why? Why? Why??? WHY? Not fair. Sulksulksulk. Screams and runs around flailing arms. Rolls on the floor like a mad object. NOTFAIRNOTFAIR. SCREAMSCREAMSCREAMSCREAMSCREAM. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! I WANT I WANT I WANT!!! Oh man. Lord give me strength to accept that i cannot change some things, and that all things are best left in your hands instead of mine. Help me choose the right options and be farsighted instead of superficial. *thunks head on the table several times*

Pickles.

I'm in a bit of a pickle. Monica has just asked me if i enrolled her for a course on Management of Violence, and if yes, what time and where. I, with all my heart, sincerely thought i did submit her name together with Joan's. But i didnt, apparently (i checked my email Sent folder). The course was full anyway, and Joan couldnt attend either (and so neither could Monica if i had submitted her name). So i told Monica that the course was full, but not that i forgot to put her name in. Mehh. I feel horrible. Please have mercy on my soul.

Now Bean is in a bit of a pickle. Mr Steely-blue Eyes has fallen in love with her, but she really only likes someone else. Now the trouble is he is nice and sweet and funny and geeky and keeps trying to get her attention, but she doesnt care for any of that and it's making her mad. While other man, it seems, doesnt like her that way. Oh man, Bean you have such delicious troubles. I wish i had them. Eh actually no. No no. Dont want. Now her other pickle is the creepy neighbour who also likes her, but is just plain sick. Now, that part of the pickle is not very nice.

I do think working in an office dulls the mind and uh unsharpens wit. Lack of sleep also does that(it also does a pasty complexion and eyebags, and hence need for concealer). Nothing seems interesting to write about anymore. There's no scope for imagination in this freezing, grey-themed, cubicle-filled place. That part of the soul kind of goes to sleep when it stays untempted by pretty things for a long time. I'm losing my sense of wonder! No wonder i dont talk as much, or ask as many questions, or dream as much. Instead, i generalize, condense, conform, rationalize, and simply become common. Which is why, i stand by my decision to quit at the end of the month and have a yelling time playing, and doing what i want to do, love people, love things, and laugh. Or else how am i going to come alive (which i was supposed to do when summer came)?

So yah, if you want me to shrivel up, turn a healthy shade of carrot orange, and be a common housefly, dont let me out of the office please.

The Essence of Today

I pass through this world but once. Any good i can do, or any kindness that i can show, let me do now, for i shall not pass his way again.

So says the poster at the back of the door of the first cubicle in the women's washroom. I read it everyday when i pee, and i'm always inspired (to do good, that is).

Ohhh laadeedaaahh... how come papa hasnt called me to go for lunch yet? Is he not hungry?!

Selection.

It’s about time I fell in love again, I should think. Life is getting too quiet. We need some fun and mess. So please, pick up the gold-edged application forms available from mummy and fill in your name, age, i/c number (for papa’s reference), address, phone number, email add, PSLE, O levels, A levels and all other relevant educational experiences, previous job experiences, CCAs, voluntary work, positions of leadership (eg. President of the Green Club in Pri.6), names and full background of parents, siblings, best friends, ex-girlfriends, pets etc, a full medical report from selected clinics, likes and dislikes, and description of fashion sense. Please submit together with a full length coloured photograph of yourself, and make an appointment for a rigorous interview with the panel of judges which includes, but is not limited to, papa, mum, mei, unc weng, eryiyi, jess, barn, ruth, daiyiyi, popo, gonggong, and mini. Be warned that this will be an intense interrogation and probably a harrowing experience, and so should not be taken lightly. The Power Yeo Pte Ltd will not be responsible for any system breakdown, whether emotional, mental or physical.

Selected candidates will be notified by post and will be required to come down for a training session. After yet another round of selection, in which only 3 shall remain, i will slowly and painfully take my pick.

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!

See you at the end, suckers!