staring

all i did was stare at a still photo of you and your pals playing the fool.you were sitting on a baggage trolley,looking real serious, like driving a Ferrari in an F1 race. it cracks me up each morning i turn on my laptop in the office. all i did was stare and i remember how your skin feels, i stare and i remember what your face smells like. the texture of your hair on my fingers; hair on your head whom we call nub nub, hair on your legs as i smooth my hands across them while you drive. i remember because i memorised each sensation, each scent... it cracks me up each morning i turn on my laptop in the office; each morning i restrain the tears from overflowing, staring.

FUCK THIS SHIT
DEATH IS NIGH

virgin run

Completing 5.6k is harder than I thought, especially with the irregular terrain which, I suspect, enticed them to choose the route over a flat one to make up for the relatively shorter distance compared to other runs held throughout the year. Anyhooves, there were many curves and swerves, hills and tunnels, it felt like boot camp. and of course, there were alot more people walking in this race, unlike others in which only serious runners sign up for.

we started late at the esplanade, found ourselves on the wrong side of the road, receiving dirty looks from traffic police that read "no jaywalking". so we ran from our actual start line, backwards to one fullerton, found ourselves at the tail end of the 10,000 lot, meandered to the front, and started about 7 min late.we continued to meander for what seemed like forever before being rudely surprised by the 1km flag. while others claim it was a scenic route, all i remember seeing was the back of others' shirts reading "julius bar" (it's not a typo, check it out), "UBS", "Barclay's Team", "PricewaterhouseCooper", it was a parade. and all i remember hearing or chose to hear as i encountered each upward slope was "...that britney's shameless..you want a piece o' me..." (not that i dig britney, i just couldn't run to clay aiken. but thanks anyways for your nano, binx).

finally, FINALLY, the majestic glow of the 5km flag, swaying in the wind in all its glory showed up tiny in the distance. i thought, 600m was nothing relative to all the 5k i ran so i picked up pace not realising IT WAS SHIT. 200m into it and i was a punctured tyre. i saw the F1 pits - our end point; where good beer, better music and fresh clean clothes await my return like the prodigal's son. but like every meritocratic environment, i had to work for my reward - they added a friggin slope at the last u-turn.

don't get me wrong, i did enjoy my virgin run and will continue to do our 5k weekly training (which seems a whole lot shorter now than what we did yesterday). but i guess it makes a difference when you know where you're headed, know how much you've done,how much you still have to do and where the slopes are. next run, i promise to memorise the route.

after the run, in the VIP tent

bird angry that she couldn't find james/
janice wanting to see if she still looked decent


and of course, what is a run without a treat? we had kenny rogers!
chant with me "mac&cheese!mac&cheese!"

dear God,

where the fuck are You?


love,
pam

in their laughter i shed a tear

there was coffee, magazines and wind in our hair


we love each other so much, we met on a sunday
we see each other so much, our mother-in-laws are in sync
we're even starting to have the same hair.

corporate challenge up next-160409,1800h,the padang

love will keep us alive

so we try to have these fornightly sessions to keep us from drowning or worse, becoming robots.

jad's farewell without jad cuz he was late from being lost
he went to timbre "old school", as in SMU
hurhur.

TLC breakfast...

...to chase away tuesday blues