Home

Nothing smells like home. What does home smells like? Home smells like comfort, home smells like a good night rest, home smells like dryness after you have been out in the rain. Home smells familiar, home pleases my senses, home smells like reality, home permits you to be who you really are and being at home make you the person you are at ease with and not the person others want you to be. Home smells like serenity, home smells safe, home smells like a shelter which nurses the part of you that’s been beaten by the storm.

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I was drenched. At 6.30am, I was drenched. Drenched is when even your underwear is wet. Most of you sleepyheads were still in dreamland as I was caught in an uncompromising torrent, one which had made me feel vulnerable, one which had made me regret having drank and drove(and losing my driving license as a result), one which had made me feel…human.

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Had I have any luck, my cell phone’s battery wouldn’t have run out on me. Connection was lost, I was alone at a bus stop, help was not readily present and I jolly well knew that I had made that decision, a predicament that I had chosen yet not regretted. However resourceful I had been, the many friends I had had, the amount of bills in my wallet, the PSP in my bag, all didn’t matter much at that very moment because I was on my own.

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I had to walk to a petrol station with the downpour slapping on my back, my bag felt heavier than usual, my mood was dimmer than ever, I felt so distant from reality although that probably WAS one of my closest ever from reality. “Never live in denial” as my friend, Charles, always says, but aren’t we, all the time? The HUGO BOSSes, the streaked hair, the NIKE sneakers, the MONT BLANCs, the XBOXes with their virtual realities, mobile phones with emoticons that are ever ready to present the world with their best J/L/;)/:p/:,( and the ARMANI shirt that tells people who you’re not and hid you from the fact that you were born nude.

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Upon reaching the petrol kiosk, I gave my best smile to the auntie behind the counter and said,”Could you please call me a cab, my cell phone has run out of battery?”(The actual sentence was, “my phone no batt, can help me call cab?”). Unsympathetically, the auntie said,” Sorry, you have to call yourself.” Of which I did, I said,” Hey Darren!” Obviously I made up that last sentence, what she meant was for me to call for the cab by my own means, with my bloody own phone which I had made known to her to be dead in the first place! I then proceeded to the back of the counter, snatched her phone, made a call, waited for a cab and arrived home safely.

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Alright I’ve lied again; I didn’t have the guts to do that, I said ok and left. Looking into the mirror, I would have felt sorry for me, she was just jealous, f%*k. Back in the rain I walked, determined to brave the harsh condition, I had good thoughts. I thought of home…and how nice it would be to be there in the next couple of hours perhaps and almost immediately, help came in the form of a green-lighted cab. Wow, thank god! Home was what I had wished for, home was what I would be getting.

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On my way back, I thought I had to pen this down. Once I was home, I checked my underwear, yea indeed it was wet. Saying “I was caught in the rain” definitely doesn’t beat saying “My underwear was wet in the rain”, so now there’s an added incentive to wearing it more often, just kidding la. Well the ordeal lasted for maybe slightly more than an hour but it has taught me lots. Probably the single most important lesson learnt was……bring a damn umbrella next time you idiot.

It's a game? Or not?

Ever been to a carnival? What do you call that event which you tie 2 persons’ (normally a couple) legs, right to the left, together, and they try to outrun another few couples for the Grand Prize of a nicely wrapped-up mug? Especially at those family carnivals, this event would be a must-have. It is a simple game; both have to coordinate well, adjust to each others’ pace, understand the terrain, communicate efficiently and do whatever it takes (hop, run, walk etc) to get to the other end and back.

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The male, being the heavier and taller one, would sometimes have to lean on the physically weaker female to keep their balance. The faster male would feel the resistance of the slower female, at the same time the slower female would feel the faster male’s pull, both would get exhausted by each others’ speed or the lack of it. They would both perspire under the blazing sun, cheered on by the spectators around them who have witnessed it all much clearer than themselves. It is a pity the spectators can’t participate as they would be thinking that they could have done a much better job than the participants, or would they have? Maybe the male would blame the female for moving too slowly but could it be that the male was moving too fast and vice versa? Both of them, under the same circumstance and condition, feel differently, so is anyone to be blamed? Frustration is part of the game. Failure is NOT a certainty. Winning ugly may be acceptable too. At least, some get to the finish line, Top 3 or not, it doesn’t matter, the essence of it, is only the completion. Well, that’s love…for me.

Paint

Have you tried painting your room? Well, don’t! It’s d*%m tiring, time-consuming, not to mention...frustrating! I got stuck in a pointless conversation with a friend which went like this: “Hey bud, I’m trying to paint my room but the colour gets uneven if I do it too fast and”, Mr. Bud interrupts: “What colour?”, to which I replied: “Blue. And if I do it too slow it...”, Mr. Bud interrupts again: “What shade?”, I said: “Blue la, and it’s very tiring if I do it too slow so I think...”, Mr. rude Bud, once again, not at all sensing the urgency, said: “Which shade of blue?”, I ended the call immediately. Does it matter which shade of blue I painted my room in? Ok, just for your information, the tin read “Blue Lagoon” and I know you still don’t have a idea what shade that is! I mean, how blue is “Navy Blue” and how “Navy” is “Navy Blue” actually? Whose navy by the way? Singapore’s or USA’s? We probably perceive “Navy Blue” differently then.

The paint which I bought was the cheapest of all and do you know what that means? It means that I’m not protected from, algae, fungus, fading, chalking, bacterials, water, my “matt finish” is not contemporary enough, does not cover hairline cracks well, is not Ammonia-free, is not heavy metal free, has odour etc! Haha, like I care?! $36 per tin VS $65 per tin, it’s a no-brainer! Duh.

There used to be this trick question(tricky for me coz I was stupid!) in Mathematics: “If one painter takes 10hours to paint a room, how many hours will it take for 2 painters to paint a room?”, I used to gave the answer as 5 hours and no wonder I always got 99marks for my test papers, because it was WRONG! It took 2 painters 12hours to paint the room and why is that so? The other painter was sitting in the middle of the room fidgeting with her phone and blocking the more competent painter’s way. In conclusion, I would have been better off had I done it on my own. Hence, 2 competent painters = 5hours/room whereas 2 incompetent painters = very long and 1 competent painter + 1 phone meddler in a painter’s suit and hat = infinity.

The name of the above-mentioned has been changed to protect Priscilla Huang Lijuan’s identity. :p