Ramblings of

I step out of the elevator, onto the wrong floor, and am instantly insulted by a woman, "You, Japanese Foo?". Then I realised how odd her dressing seemed, rather Japanese-like herself? Because of the odd stripes splashed across in an odd fashion in the oddest angles? The whole get-up was odd - like HairyD in her casual gear. Very, erm, stunning. Yeah, like it sends shock-waves through your body upon sight then makes you break out in guffaws? Something like that.

No, I answer her. No Foo. Gonna get hair-cut, but no Foo, thank Yoo. My pronunciation must have been perfect. She smiled understandingly and finally stepped aside to let me pass.

I launched into the hair salon (late as usual - and braised myself for the usual explosion of excuses comprising predominantly of blames on the husband? work miracles everytime!) The new receptionist sprints after me and confronts me with a slip of paper, panting "Your Nem? M'am?"

My nem-esis?! Unbelievable. Why would she need to know that? My mind races...then halts. Stupid. I yell at myself in the usual monologuing manner. Gah. I spit into my own mouth (and no, no one dives in). My Nem is Gwen, that's G.W. - but wait! She completes the spelling perfectly. I like her again. No more grudges.

Oh, and before this hair appointment thing, we were at Go Go Bambini's. It's fantabulous if you have a bunch of money to throw away and time to spare. Also, it helps if your children are the bouncing offa the wall types. So, we troupe along there for some bouncey business - to get the angst out of their systems and to blow the budget just coz it may be cheaper than therapy?

Immediately I spot a man. We used to date? No. I stand corrected. I dated his friend and he dated....HairyD? Or was it Stace? No, Lynda Tan Teng Muan? My memory's so bad. Anyway, immediately, I call HairyD who confirms emphatically that it is indeed him who still sports those trademark eye-bags. I tell HairyD I will play a trick. She squeals (as she usually does when she's excited with my plan), and I cackle back in response (as is usual too when an evil plan as such is hatched).

I send my Man to execute the deed and I run along behind him to watch...

But the plan gets foiled. My Belle climbs too high and cries for help. The man with the eye-bags helps her and upon seeing me running with my Man, flashes me a WIDE grin and explains in this extremely long fashion how she got up there, how she called for help, how he got to her, how he carried her down, how she.....and so on. And all I could think of was - plan foiled. I nod in pretend comprehension, then vaguely thanked him for his kind deed, all the while cursing about - plan foiled. Shucks.

Childish games. For childish people. I like. Shall have to play pranks on some others instead then.

Like the time, just a couple of months ago, the husband tweaked a short balding man's ear and ran off. He turned around and glared at me - almost eye to eye (and I'm not the tallest dame of them all) and I just didn't know what to say. I couldn't laugh. It was too rude. But the urge was so great coz he looked so bald and stunned by the plucked ear - you get my drift. Finally I managed to mutter the husband's name and pointed accusingly in the direction of... no one. That idiot was hiding. I waited, WE waited patiently, for the accused to reappear. Luckily, the balding guy acknowledged being friends with the accused else we would be in some soup. That kind of childish tricks. I like. But I prefer on other people, not on me.

I really should go to bed. I need 8 hours of sleep else I function like a demented woman. Else I'd ramble on, just like this.