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Tuesday, March 01, 2005

Cramps and Frogs

Times are, I hate being a woman. That wracking, menstrual cramp at the onset of the wrong time of the month makes me hate being a woman every time. Fortunately for me, I don't get it badly every month, like I did in secondary school, but every time I do, I seriously consider either 1) tying my tubes or 2) getting a sex change and 3) murdering every male in sight.

Fortunately for me and half of Singapore's male population ( and some of the Parisien one last year ) none of these suggestions were ever seriously implemented.

*Groans and whines of self pity* Why in hell wasn't I born a male....... I could probably live with societal expectations of masculinity, ( seeing as how some of my male friends think I currently live up to it pretty well in my present state ) deal with NS and having a hard-on every morning, ANYTHING better than this.............

What an end to my sudden day off. Having 2 students cancelled for the day, I made my way to the AMK library to indulge in comic book readings, one of my favourite holiday activities which I hardly indulge in. ( Incidentally, For Better or For Worse is a great strip chronicling the adventures of the Patterson family living in Canada as they deal with kids, work, menopause, university and death. In other words, all of the things that make life. )

The afternoon was thus peacefully spent in the slightly-too-cold-for-comfort library reading For Better or Worse, and Cathy comics. ( All those working now, I sense an aura of animosity... )

The bad part came later. I had found out in the library that my least favourite house guest had paid me a visit again, and thus the usual chaos was to be expected. I thought, however, that since the last few visits weren't so bad, I should be able to make it through this one.

Oh flippin' god, how wrong I was. This was one of the BAD ones.

Pain, wrackin' pain, slight nausea at the sight and thought of food, ( and to make matters worse, the fragrant scent of Rotiboy was just a few metres away from us. Oh, cruel, cruel world... ) giddiness when I tried to stand, and more pain, and a persistent cold sweat, even when I was finally in the cab, and the aircon was blowing at me.


So anyway, I managed to grab a cab, stagger upstairs, n when I finally entered my living room, collapsed onto the floor, jeans and all, hugged my backpack for comfort, and went comatose there.

My family being what they are, they enquired once to make sure that I was alive and breathing, and pretty much left me alone for the rest of the night. ( My cramps are known to the world )

Anyway, when I finally regained consciousness, my bro bid me a belated birthday, and handed me a frog.

Yes, a frog.

Er, my apologies. Well, it seems a friend of his had got it from overseas, probably Thailand or Indonesia by the looks of it. What you're supposed to do is to take the stick from its mouth, rub it along the grooves of its back, and it makes a croaking sound, like a frog. A mating call, for all I know.

Yea, something like that.

Cool little fellow, ain't he?

And a new illustration again: [I don't know what's up with me... I keep getting tons of inspiration these days... better take advantage of whatever I can... :p ]


There's something about frustration and anxiety that's just very... artistically inspiring. No wonder all truly great artists were stone broke one way or another... All that anxiety and frustration over their finances made them paint and paint and paint...

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