London bloody London

I must have broken some kind of record this weekend. Spent the weekend in London and DID NOT, I repeat, DID NOT go to a single bar. Did not put one toe in a club. Niente, nada, diddly squat.

I did, however, go to a super fantastic party on Saturday and Fergus’ place. It was a blast. The guy really, really knows how to throw a party and my goodness did we all have a really good time! I felt really bad about not helping out more though.

The most embarrassing happened this weekend. And it’s soo go to do with my Ms Cutlery self.

(If you don’t know about Tweety’s Ms. Cutlery side, well then, you haven’t known me long enough so I’m not gonna tell ya.)

Anyway, after coming back to the apartment from shopping, our kind host told us to tidy up the bedroom because we would have to keep the room open in order for guests to use the “facilities”.

So Glo and I busied ourselves putting away the mountains of clothes, shoes and other girlie stuff which inevitably littered the room. After getting almost ready for the party, we proceeded to clean up the bathroom. As usual, I put all unsightly and potentially dangerous things away, including the bag of toilet rolls which were on the floor. I did however, leave 2-3 extra toilet rolls for when the incumbent rolly eventually ran out. All this stuff, including the dirty clothes basket (I didn’t want to risk some druken reveler mistaking it for the basin and vomiting into it), went into the multipurpose cupboard. Anyway, before I make this short story too long, our host was hanging out in the room with us the next morning when he saw Glo take out the stuff from the cupboard including the bag of toilet rolls.

He then exclaimed, “Did you HIDE your toilet rolls in the cupboard??!!”

Me being my usual blur cock self replied, “Of course lah!” and thinking these bloody ang moh all damn stupid – want to put Molton Brown handwash in the bathroom for the party guests but EXCLAIM over bags of toilet rolls being put out of sight.

When it suddenly dawned upon me. I nearly burst out laughing. Just not sure if I was laughing more at myself or at him.

So I told him, “I put them away because they looked so unsightly on the floor.” (As opposed to hiding them so that people won’t use them all up, thus leaving us to clean our intimates with fish & chip newspaper for the rest of the month).

And Glo very helpfully chipped in, “Yah, but she did leave some extra rolls out”.

Good grief. Exit stage left, Ms. Cutlery.

Did manage to do some shopping and I bought a lot of stuff for Chiara. The little cutie pie was trying on all her stuff this morning when she woke up. Hehhee. Taking after her mum, she is. I am so proud.

Anyway, that was my weekend. Good stuff. And the weather was lovely. Thought my outfit at the party rocked as well. Heheee.

PS: I am now 57kgs. I NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT. I cannot, repeat, cannot wear my clothes anymore. It’s not even about squeezing into my pants. Its about not being able to button them up. It’s about being a bloody size 12 but not owning anything in that size. And having my boobies spill out of my D cup bras. I need help.

Yup, she did it again….

She walked out of the building feeling completely annoyed and frustrated. She had had a bad day. But bad days seemed to happen endlessly in recent times.

“Something’s gotta give,” she thought to herself as she walked to the bus stop. “Something HAS GOT TO BLOODY GIVE!”.

She turned up the volume on her pink iPod. Guns ‘n’ Roses blasted into her ears. She hoped that visions of that paradise city would blot him from her mind.

Two months ago they kissed for the first time. It blew her mind away. Not because it was particularly good but because it actually happened. No motives. No prior counts of flirting. No nothing. Just empty beer cans and bare feet.

“Goddamn red dress. Truly the devils’ color,” she mumbled under her breath. But she couldn’t stop a little smile from passing over her lips.

Her thoughts were flying fast and free. Like Adler’s sticks over those drums.

She thought about his clumsy hands all over her body. Trying to reach for something he did not quite know how to get to anymore. She thought about her own thoughts at that moment. And the screaming sirens in her head. And how she hadn’t the willpower to make him stop. And now that she thought about it, she hadn’t really wanted him to.

She hadn’t dared sleep with him that night. She crept out silently long after the sun rose.

And woke up the next morning with a banging hangover and butterflies in her tummy.

Typical.

True to herself, she mooned about him for a couple of weeks after that night. Listened to silly songs from Shania Twain and soppy movie soundtracks. Even got a copy of Stealing Home off Amazon and watched it on a lonely week night.

And then one day, the bubble popped. The hunter instinct in her knew she caught her prey the day she caught him sneaking a look at her in her Sienna outfit. She knew she looked hot that day and obviously, he did too.

That did it for her she firmly turned the page.

It was time to move on to other cute furry animals out there.

Or so she thought. She should have known better. “Oops I did it again” was stuck on repeat on the CD player that is her life.

So two months later, she found herself wrapped in his arms, in his bed, kissing him softly in post coital tenderness.

She had decided to throw caution to the wind. Besides, she hadn’t quite known how to turn him down either. Another typical character trait she wasn’t proud of.

They had slept with each other on two consecutive nights. Both times were sweet, tender and affectionate.

He didn’t quite have the body of a Harlequin romance hero, nor the finesse of Daniele the helicopter pilot from Rome, but he was gentle and sincere. In fact she found him almost innocent in his guilt. And he kissed really nicely.

“Grrrrr”, she muttered as she shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Grrrr grrr grrr…aaarrgh!!!!”.

She turned up the volume to full blast on her iPod in another attempt to blow him out of her head.

“I wonder where this road will end”, she thought to herself as she ran with open arms to kiss her daughter hello.

Feathers on my lips

The softest kisses in the world. That’s what he gave me. The softest kisses ever. Was he cute? I don’t know really. He certainly wasn’t ugly. He had a cap on. Which he never took off. Even while he was giving me the softest kisses in the world.

I wish I could have more of them. But he is leaving forever on Friday. I don’t know where. I can’t remember. As always, I was shrouded in a haze of bubbly and making conversation was not the foremost in my mind. His feather kisses blotted everything else from my mind, body and dare I say, soul. At least for those two hours.

Feather soft kisses. His tongue like cotton candy. His skin so sweet and smooth. His gentle hands unmoving on my face. An angel. An angel in that dark, stinky underground box.

Feather kisses from an angel.