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Archive for October, 2017

"The accused consumed a mixture of drugs in thus manner because he wanted to challenge his body to see how much drugs he could consume."

😨

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When you want to lounge in bed but your pillow has been overtaken by this flouff.

And the rest of your bed has this flouff sprawled out over it.

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Fish!

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"First, a judge is entitled to express his or her honest impressions of the case presented by counsel. In our judgement, the Judge's choice of words in the GD spoke volumes about the appalling state of the arguments that had been advanced on behalf of the Appellant and was not a reflection of any impropriety on the part of the Judge. To put it simply, he was entitled to call a spade a spade and after having heard the Appeals, we were of the view that that was just what he had done."

😨

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I was alone a lot through Law School and tended to sit in the same seat at every lecture.

Some time in my second year, Boy A took to sitting next to me regularly. He would make small talk and sometimes join me for lunch or in the library after.

The problem with Boy A was that he was a seriously intense person, which is saying a lot coming from me. He was also a pushy in that he was quite interested in where I was in my readings and made some comments on how I was behind and tried to tell me what to do about my school work.

It got kinda annoying so after a couple of months, I started avoiding him by sitting next to other people in lectures, rushing off into the crowd after, hanging out at the corner table in the library out of sight.

He noticed me pulling away and after a week, he sent me an email to ask me to meet him somewhere to discuss our issues and my "hostility".

It was too weird.

I never went to the confrontation given that I am mostly quite anti-confrontational. I just kinda carried on with life. I guess he also got over it given that a few years back we had a rather decent conversation in the Bar Room when we ran into each other.

When I related the story to Overlord today, he was of the view that the dude was probably infatuated with me. According to Overlord, no boy would put in that effort with the email otherwise.

Given that our conversations were not inclined that way, I never sensed it from him. I just thought he was one of those people who was always the victim, always had to know, had to get to the bottom of things.

And that kinda explains why his practice turned out the way it did, I guess.

What I found funny was that there was this one occasion where one of those known difficult people came up to me in Court to complain about a matter he had ongoing with Boy A.

Incidentally, I meet and click with a lot of these strange outcasts. According to Overlord, I am a magnet for weirdos and bizarre happenings.

I would like to think that the world is just a mad and strange place filled with many mad and strange people.

I can't explain how they find me, but they account for a lot of my beer drinking stories.

(Apologies if the story is a bit vague. It is connected with the quotation that I had posted above so too many details may lead to identification.)

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Another conversation I have been having is how difficult it is to be a girl.

I was explaining to K about this lawyer taking me out to dinner one night and I was thinking oh crap this is some really far place and I need to run damn far to get back to civilization if needed.

He was quite tickled about how I would instinctively plan an escape route when out with strange men, the rules in relation to accepting drinks that only come in a bottle, pouring my own drinks and never drinking from a glass that I have left on a tabletop unattended.

Hey, said I, these rules are important okay in this world of Harvey Weinsteins and Donald Trumps!

I'll take notes, said Overlord, so I can keep my daughter safe.

It's a sad sad world full of mad mad people.

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Let's start this morning with a wefie!

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Good morning, Bella.

It's been a week since you left.

I still don't know how to tell the story in one continuous narrative. I've always thought that it would be a relief to speak of things openly. But for some reason, it just suddenly doesn't seem very important anymore.

I guess this is a fitting end for a whole lot of nothing, which incidentally is the sum total of the impact you had on my life. A big fat zero made up of a bunch of inconsequential beer drinking stories.

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My daughter's new ballet schedule meant that she has to go to class on Wednesdays and Sundays.

On Wednesdays, my mother will put her hair in a bun and on Sundays, I will put her hair in a bun.

So when I went off to Madrid for the conference, Husband had the unenviable task of taking over Sunday bun duties with the help of YouTube videos.

A week after I came back, my daughter told me that as she went into class, the admin remarked, "Oh, Ally, I see your mummy has come back!"

Oh, said I. You told Mrs Lee that I was away?

No, she replied. Last week when I went to class, Mrs Lee and [name of her classmate] said my hair wouldn't do. I told them that my mummy was in Madrid and daddy did my hair so [classmate] re-did it for me.

😂

This Sunday past, A had an open house at ballet. Husband asked whether she would be sad if we missed it because I usually coach S with his schoolwork while A is in ballet and Husband had attended the open days for the last few times.

A thought for a while and said, Mummy has never come to the open house. Maybe Mummy should come.

And so I did, leaving S's schoolwork to the Husband (and returning home to both of them not being very happy with each other).

It was essentially an exhibition class where the girls would go through all their usual drills to show their parents what they have learnt over the year. Not the most exciting thing with lots of super on parents taking photos and videos. It did set off my competitiveness though. I went on Lazada thereafter and ordered a whole bunch of bun covers.

The point is that while I try to teach my kids to be as independent as possible, I should also remember that sometimes, they just need me to be there anyway.

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Another ballet class story –

Because her class is like two blocks from our place, we asked her whether she could walk herself home after ballet ends at 6.45pm on Sunday. A agreed so we just dropped her off and waited at home for her.

When she came back, she told me that the school refused to let her walk home alone and made the parents of one of her classmates who live in the same block walk with her.

Man, we must appear like such bad parents to the ballet school.

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The cat is being charged.

(Or Joie sitting on my phone charger.)

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