Hectic Holidays

So this is what a neglected blog feels like. Dusty and lonely. Dear blog, I apologize but this temporary silence looks to continue till past new year. I would apologize to my fervent readers too, but none exist. This period of silence is not due to a waning interest in this self-exhibitionistic experiment, but events have been unfolding as quickly as a budding rose would if you fast-forward the video. Case in point: as of today after service, every single day next week was fully spoken for already. I’m helping my aunt decorate on Monday morning, going for a lunch appointment and then planning both Christmas musical props and the cell overnight PD trip on Sunday. Music and AV workshop takes up most of Tuesday, then going to sourcing for prop materials with Karen and Liz on Wednesday. Thursday’s the secondary day trip to PD; I agreed to help out for it even though we’re going to PD again on Sunday. Friday is the day we meet in church to construct the larger props. Saturday comes with rehearsals, service, a birthday party after that and finally on Sunday, the cell trip.

I wonder if I should make more time for myself. I went home quickly after service and dinner today, hoping to take a long, relaxing shower and pop into bed early but first my mom wanted to map out the plans for the next few weeks, then there was housework to do (I was assigned to sweep the floor) and I had just started blogging because I promised myself that I would post something thing tonight when my cousin in America called to speak to my mom but since I picked up the phone, I ended up just chatting for a while. I’m not complaining as we hardly keep in contact so it was good to spend the time that way, but there goes my long shower. After I finish this, I will just want to get it over as quickly as possible so that I can hit the sack (damp hair be hanged).

Anyway, the past two weeks since my last post are a blur to me now. I remember playing futsal with the cell last Sunday (we’re playing again tomorrow), and I have a magnificently large, wine coloured bruise on the right calf as a result (plus a slight scrape, on the knee, the scab’s still there). Ooh, which reminds me of a wonderfully lame exchange Tim told about us on the way to cell on Friday. Someone mentioned that she was quarter Thai, and I-Lin asked, “Which part?” To which Tim replied, “This part la!” while pointing to her thighs.

With that, I take my leave. Adieu!