Famous Last Words.

I am wearing the shirt that I was in when I was caught up in the hurricane being an evacuee. I bought in LA a few days before that, and haven't worn it ever since that fateful day. I don't even remember its existence, until of course, two days when I moved house. Nope, no more scars or recurring nightmares anymore. It has been more than a year ago and it feels like yonks ago. Just a tad surreal and incredible how much guts I've got and if faced with the same situation again, I don't know if I would be able to pull it off again.

Settled into the new place pretty effortless, at least I didn't get the where-the-hell-am-I feeling when I wake up in the morning. It still feels like a hotel room, all nice and clean and comfortable, but no emotions towards it. It's all right, and I am not even missing the water view yet, the the bloody construction noise is a bit of a downer, and the U2 concert this weekend which I could probably hear. It doesn't help that I don't like them at all. But at least I have people to bleed my ears out with me, since I am having the house-warming party on the same night. That should be fun, but another round or shopping, preparation and cleaning up.

I am having a sense of deja vu with reagrds to my brother and his missus. They are talking through me, instead of to each other. This is how it has always been with mum and dad, and now another couple. Just what the hell is happening? And how much shit can I get embroiled in before I crack too? And how many times can a third party help? Considering the number years ahead of them, and at least 20 I must say going by normal human lifespan, they should at least try to sort it out between them. But then again, easier said than done. Communication is hardly easy sometimes between two people. And yes, this me talking.

Work is boring at the moment, just dealing with the usual stuff. Boring, boring. I am just cruising along for the remaining three weeks. Paycheck after paycheck, pay off the bills, get into the cycle of the new rent, save some for the upcoming, and a lot more for shopping and Christmas presents.

And yeah, for no apparent reason, on Tuesday, what was supposed to be a simple dinner in the city became a shopping spree and a drinking session. Half a grand down and I reckon I have done my retail therapy, for this week at least, till next Wednesday when the Chadstone sale comes around. So I gave myself the excuse that a guy would never have enough shirts, or Kiehl's products for that matter. I will wear them, use them, need them at any point.

Philip is still harping over the fact that the old folks are not willing to head up to Beijing for good. I still reckon for the most part, he scared them off, and yes, his wife too. The environment is just not conducive enough to convince them. Actually, I should have known better too, stupidly buying that expensive airticket.

Everyone is dying to see Amanda, but the baby comes with the burden of two bickering adults. Not to mention the whole bunch of narrow-minded village people who can't save their sorry arses from being caught up in the whole deadly whirpool of money and status. It's so frustrating and depressing that I wish I (or anyone in our family for that matter) have never gotten involved, but we did. Why the hell do we need people to make us feel bad about ourselves? I am not impressionable like that but I could do without such characters in my life, better off without actually.

I will still get on that plane no matter what. All I can say right now is 'well, we'll see'. Or should I say 'surprise me' instead?