A Jumbled Mess of An Entry

The past few days have been a haze of going out and relaxing, tidying up my room and hoovering with Shake and Vac from Morrisons which has almost become a Monica Gellerish obsession, eating Chinese and pizza takeaway, and drinking wine late into the night. Am sitting in Housemate Above's room blogging to the sounds of Pro Evo (again), which has become my nightly routine ever since my laptop crashed.

A few events stand out amidst the jumble of fun. The first one: going out with Audrey two nights ago to Le Cafetiere in Hyde Park and staying there until closing time. We were the last customers to leave and the manager seemed very interested in us. He kept asking us where we were from! I think looking pseudo Thai-ish attracts too much attention sometimes. We should just wear a huge sign on our shirts saying "I'm from Singapore (the Fine city!).

We were chatting and laughing late into the night and playing with the lone candle on our table. It flickered sporadically and when we left Audrey blew it out. After all the musing I did on life and living, I had the sudden thought on how good it would be to be a candle. Candles, I think, are the only things that seem to have a million lives. You can snuff them out and light them again, and there they are as good as new, just a little scarred by living.

I can't blog as well or as fluently as I used to. I used to have so many things to say, every day, and they would just flow from the pen to the paper. But now I have to think very hard about what I want to say. Perhaps it's the font flickering in a different way on Housemate Above's computer, so dissmilar to how it was on my own; perhaps it's the constant noise of Pro-Evo and shouts of "Goal!" or "AHHHHhh!" to my right, or perhaps it's just the smell of Housemate Above's room, male and testosterony and so different from my own.

I checked Housemate Diagonally Above's Medical Engineering essay for grammatical errors and spelling mistakes yesterday, and it took me all of six hours to finish editing 11 pages. Very perfectionist. Housemate DA was very pleased with the finished product, though, which I handed to him at 2 a.m. the next morning. I felt very very proud.

Something very funny happened today: I was waiting outside Marcus' (a Singaporean's) house for Audrey, as she was bringing her luggage there to be shipped back to Singapore. Gave him a missed call to get him to open his door because I had no free peak minutes, and was pretty surprised when I received a text from him. It said, "Thanks for calling, but I think I accidently switched off my phone! Would you mind calling me back? I'd love to talk to you x"

I was really shocked! I didn't know Marcus was that polite or British-sounding, and I had never come across Singaporean guys putting "x"s at the back of their texts! "I'm outside your house! :-)" I texted.

Then I got the strangest text. It said, "Oh dear! I'm in London at the moment. Is Elaine expecting you? When are you going to be staying in England until? Would love to meet up with you. Marcus x"

And then I realised that I'd called the wrong Marcus. I'd called the British Marcus instead of the Singaporean one! Find me the most absent minded person in the world, and I'll find you a Singaporean girl named Ruth studying in Leeds.

And Audrey stubbed my little toe (this sentence sounds weird!) three times today; once against her 20 kg box of luggage where it started bleeding, once stepping heavily on it in New Look at the Headrow, and once when she was ironing my chiffon blouse for me and dropped the iron on that same toe. It's been much-abused and too mistreated. I hope it lives out the summer!