The beauty of Hall
Remind me NEVER EVER to return home again, maybe till I am half dead or say in dire straits.
I wasn't under the influence of drugs (or was I?) when I spoke of how much I missed home. Oh I do miss home terribly, i.e. bed, sofa, television, fridge, mum's cooking. But not the cranky erratic family members. Not my grouchy dad, nor my sensitive sister, nor my fuss-maniac mother.
Oh bugger the lot of them.
I went out on Friday night-Saturday morning (before the menstrual cramps hit me real bad) to meet Bittercoffee my brother, at his place. Had 4/5 of a Nalgene bottle full of Gin and Bitterlemon (courtesy of him), that's about 800ml that I drank! Not too sure how many shots I poured in but was easily 4 shots there. So, in the cold of the night, we talked, we laughed, till the wee of the morning.
"This just goes to show how long we haven't talked."
Yes brother, I know.
Haven't I come meet you at the first chance possible?
Then we went for breakfast at Prata House at Thomson (How I missed my favourite paper prata and ice milo there! Even the Indian waiter there recognised me! Haha!), courtesy of bro again (thank you!), bought my copy of Maxim from 7-11, only to be disappointed by the skills of the photographer. He really did not do the girls justice with his skills. I've seen Wendy once in real life before, and she looked better than the auntie photo he shot of her. Even the photos that she took of herself look better. Sandralicious too.
Just compare this (also sent to me by Sandra), taken by Jacque Chong, as featured in Maxim,
And this, that Sandra sent me.
Sorry I meant this other one.
What a load of difference ain't it?
Back to myself. As I walked back from the bus-stop, I snapped photos of the familiar visuals that I have not seen for a long time.
The early sun peeking out from behind RJC, resembled a soaring phoenix.
The road along the Marymount flyover.
The familar path I often jogged along with the scary trees flanking its side.
The ugly green side gate to the estate.
The slope down towards the tennis court.
There was a cute tennis teacher who's there every tuesday. I wonder if he's still around.
The mama shop at my estate, run by two sisters. One of them is a super nice auntie, who let me run a tab once when I didn't have enough cash on me. Tells me how much my sister resemble me and how I've grown prettier. Awww.
The clubhouse, and friendly security guard who smokes and chit chats with many of the neighbours around.
The road I've walked for the past 11 years. The crooked tree wasn't that crooked 11 years ago.
Waiting for the lift.
And that means, 20 seconds or less away from home sweet home.
I wasn't under the influence of drugs (or was I?) when I spoke of how much I missed home. Oh I do miss home terribly, i.e. bed, sofa, television, fridge, mum's cooking. But not the cranky erratic family members. Not my grouchy dad, nor my sensitive sister, nor my fuss-maniac mother.
Oh bugger the lot of them.
I went out on Friday night-Saturday morning (before the menstrual cramps hit me real bad) to meet Bittercoffee my brother, at his place. Had 4/5 of a Nalgene bottle full of Gin and Bitterlemon (courtesy of him), that's about 800ml that I drank! Not too sure how many shots I poured in but was easily 4 shots there. So, in the cold of the night, we talked, we laughed, till the wee of the morning.
"This just goes to show how long we haven't talked."
Yes brother, I know.
Haven't I come meet you at the first chance possible?
Then we went for breakfast at Prata House at Thomson (How I missed my favourite paper prata and ice milo there! Even the Indian waiter there recognised me! Haha!), courtesy of bro again (thank you!), bought my copy of Maxim from 7-11, only to be disappointed by the skills of the photographer. He really did not do the girls justice with his skills. I've seen Wendy once in real life before, and she looked better than the auntie photo he shot of her. Even the photos that she took of herself look better. Sandralicious too.
Just compare this (also sent to me by Sandra), taken by Jacque Chong, as featured in Maxim,
And this, that Sandra sent me.
Sorry I meant this other one.
What a load of difference ain't it?
Back to myself. As I walked back from the bus-stop, I snapped photos of the familiar visuals that I have not seen for a long time.
The early sun peeking out from behind RJC, resembled a soaring phoenix.
The road along the Marymount flyover.
The familar path I often jogged along with the scary trees flanking its side.
The ugly green side gate to the estate.
The slope down towards the tennis court.
There was a cute tennis teacher who's there every tuesday. I wonder if he's still around.
The mama shop at my estate, run by two sisters. One of them is a super nice auntie, who let me run a tab once when I didn't have enough cash on me. Tells me how much my sister resemble me and how I've grown prettier. Awww.
The clubhouse, and friendly security guard who smokes and chit chats with many of the neighbours around.
The road I've walked for the past 11 years. The crooked tree wasn't that crooked 11 years ago.
Waiting for the lift.
And that means, 20 seconds or less away from home sweet home.
posted by Sheena at 4:17 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home