There's always a light side to life, even if an anvil is sitting on your life.

I have just rediscovered why the stress ball is called a "stress ball".


I was wringing (ie, manhandling) it all the way to work this morning (suspect that I unnerved some people on the train meanwhile) with the mp3 chugging music into my ear. No, it's not because it stresses everybody else out, that's only where I'm concerned; it's something that you can mangle over and over again and it'll still instaneously return to the ball form for you to mangle again. Very good for stressed out people, and a more or less good substitute for wringing somebody's neck.


Did you know I lost 2 kg during this period of time in which I have not yet gotten over that dang heartache? Never happened before. Shocked that it should even happen to me, of all people. But then, that may be my comeuppence for thinking I can analyse every aspect of life (actually, I still think I can).


I should get dumped more often. Then again, to get dumped, I have to get hooked up first.


I know I'm scaring you. If I'm not, it's because you already know the kind of person I am, and it'll be extra scary if I wasn't being scary.



Figure that out yourself.



Anyway, that's another white star in the jar, along with all the other stars, and all the other white stars that each have a name of a romantic prospect who has passed through my life afore, as well as what I remember them for in that same aspect.


It's one of the very few girly-whirly things I do. Actually, not that very few, come to think of it.


Oh who cares. Like I'd ever admit to them.


Oh, wait. I just did.


Kisses for Christmas. Oh, stop dodging. You're facing a moniter screen, for goodness' sake.