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xOxO,
Jill

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Jillian
I was bored so I did these little babies.



I think I'll call this Strawberry Dream. And I do realize that I might have to wear a lot of pink and white in the next few days. This is the first entry to my new Yummy Nails section where I will display some of my favourite nail colours. Enjoy!

"I've been wearing this shirt for four months, and see, no flies!"
- Eric

Jillian
It's 3am.
It's that time again.
The ungodly hour when I can't seem to fall asleep. Instead, I write.

All work and no play makes Jill a dull laydee. We never want that to happen. No.

That justifies my past few weeks of numerous trips and outings.

Our trip to Genting Highlands finally kicked off. The trip started being very promising. In fact, I scribbled on my pda screen, "Brilliant night sky. It's the brightest I've seen. I wish you were here".

30 minutes later...

"Bus ride is very bumpy - Could see it swaying from side to side violently - Think happy thoughts - Elderly lady at the back looks incredibly nervous - Elderly lady sits up straight and looks as if she would hit bus driver with her purse"
It was said to be a 5-hour journey, but 4 and a half hours later, we were up in the mountains. As the bus slowed down, I peeked out the window. From thousands of feet above sea level, I saw the city below being covered with a blanket of mist. Again I thought of you and felt my lips quiver. I bit down hard and thought it's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen.

That was about as promising as it got. Let's just say the rest of this entry will have a different rhythm.

Oh, we took the evening bus, so naturally, we got there at approximately 4am. Check-in time was not until 2pm. There was a 10-hour gap. No problemo. We sat and drank hot chocolate, gossiping and discuss world issues. Fine, I made the last one up.

Anyway we were probably the first few ones walking around the theme park. It was 8am.

(click on picture to enlarge)

I must mention that early December is when the school holidays begin and people all over the nation are clearing their annual vacation entitlements. However, nothing prepared me for this;

(click on picture to enlarge)

I guess it's only fair that I mention everything started to get better from then on. We did nothing but hang around, talking about nothing in particular, laughing and smoke cigarettes. I'm not ashamed to admit that. It's nice to smoke in the cold.

I'm trying to find the silver lining despite all of this. But I still dont see it. I don't.
Jillian
Dear Humidity,

It's 3.29am and I've woken up to a sweat covered pillow. I've just changed my sheets a couple of days ago. It's unfair that you have to be around; seeing that your friend Heat is here too. I tried to make your visit as unpleasant as possible by turning down the temperature of my air conditioner last night. Instead, I woke up with a nauseating headache and a fever to boot.

It's not enough that we don't even get any real snow here, in addition to that, the afternoons are incredibly hot. Under the scorching heat, you could almost see the air turn squiggly.

It's almost Christmas, please give us a break. And while you're at it, bring your pal Heat with you. Then perhaps I don't have to wake up to a sweaty pillow. At least for now.

Yours sincerely,
An almost demented insomniac
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Jillian
In a separate story, I just had this IM with my sister, who btw lives downstairs; in the same house.

Jess: my phone in your rooom!!!!!!

Me: tsk!
Me: just come and take. JUST
Jess: u see where is it
Me: ironing board
Jess: ok, i come in awhile.
Jess: im fat and lazy

By the time I saw the message she was beside me watching my pointing and laughing at her message.
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Jillian
I just stood in front of my washing machine watching my clothes being sloshed around.

I stood there for the five whole minutes. Watching with empty thoughts.

I like bubbles. So sometimes; sometimes I would dump in loads and loads of detergent just to see the suds build up as the water fills up the machine. I know detergent isn't exactly environmental friendly but I've done my share of recycling so I think I'm making up for this.

I don't care what you think.
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Jillian
As I've said before, I love Christmas.

I love the presents, I love the lights, and most of all, I like wrapping presents. I obsess about wrapping gifts as soon as I buy them. Once I bought Eric a little something and I rushed home from the mall just so I could wrap it up. I had also once spent an entire hour in the stationery corner of a bookstore looking at materials for gift-wrapping.

See, I don't just wrap my gifts in glossy paper and be done with it. I like making designs or an unusual detail on them, something which screams "Jillian made this!". Maybe I just love attention a little more than others.

But who doesn't.

My co-workers at the office are planning to exchange gifts during our Christmas party (It'll probably be dull, but it's my first office party since I joined, so I'll give it a chance). The party is not till the 20th this month, but since I love to shop, I bought mine yesterday.

Because of it, I could not go to bed before getting that out of the way.

I'd decided not to spend any money on buying extra materials since it's a small party (consisting of only our team members). I pulled out some of my leftover brown paper and an old magazine and got to work.

The one signature of my gifts is that some crazy old aunt can't expect to keep my wrapper(s). I always use glue instead of tape. I like ripping. So there's no reason why others shouldn't enjoy it as well.

I'm very thoughtful. I've always known that bit.

(I told you I was obsessed! Stop judging me!)

Looking at it now, my gift looks like a pimped up version of a mail parcel. But then again, I like receiving parcels. So there's no reason why anyone shouldn't enjoy it as much as I do.

I am very thoughtful. And I've always known that bit.
Jillian
I love shopping, I cannot deny that.

(Actually I tried denying myself those little treats by leaving my credit cards at home once and only bringing small amounts of cash with me but that was the one day that I realized life is short and we should all just enjoy the little things that come along, such as shoes, or purses...or a jar of hand cream. What? I quite like buying creams.)

So anyway,

I bought new lingerie today. I love lingerie. Could (would not) not get enough of it. Girls will always love lingerie. Lingerie makes me feel all girlie and sexy, that's the way girls should always feel. No matter what people tell us.

Today my new lingerie scared me. First, let me show you what I'm about to tell you about.

(See the framed set of lingerie? That's what I got, cute, aren't they?)

I have a habit of washing all my new clothes/lingerie before I wear them. Why? Simply because I make a face at the very thought of somebody else's armpit smell under the sleeves. See what I mean?

Because it is a new bra, I decided against putting it in the machine together with my laundry. I handwashed it instead. Now, if you have been following my entries over the past few months, you might have known that I am terribly phobic of wet hair, and rats. If you look at
the circled area in this picture, you will see a cute little ball of fur sewn on one of the straps. I thought it was cute at first.

That was before the little ball of fur got wet.

I was almost done washing the bra (I was oblivious of what it looked like at first) when I paid a little more attention to what I was doing. I noticed that the wet fur ball had shaped itself to have three spiky points. I thought it resembled a tiny mouse. I stood there staring (stupidly) at it for a few more seconds trying to convince myself that it would be okay when it dried. I wanted to reach out and squeeze it dry, but my body wasn't really responding to my thoughts anymore, it seems. Shortly after that my phobia completely took over and I ran away from the sink (where I was washing it) in a whimpering sort of way. I had to ask my brother to get it away from me and hang it out to dry.

I got dad to cut it off eventually. Didn't mean to get the entire family involved in such a petty thing, it just so happened that they were there. Dad left the wet fur ball on the garden table. I saw it again, and that sent me running into the kitchen. I had to made sure he threw it into the bin before I could even walk pass the area again.

Then they all laughed at me. My own parents. My brother went on playing his computer games as if it was the most normal thing for his sister to be so afraid of wet fur.

But you know me.
You know it was not just a ball of fur.
It was a wet ball of fur.
That had three spiky points.
That resembled a weird looking rat.

Right?

I knew it.
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