Five amusing things.

1. A friend’s MSN personal message: Plural for musical instrument is orchestra.

Hahahaha, I have no idea if it’s an original quote but it definitely tickled me silly.

2. One of top searches that leads to my blog is Irish sex fairy. What the hell, guys? I’m not Irish even if I miss Armagh and find the accent cute, I mention sex once in awhile (with no details, merci), and.. fairy? I like fairies! But that’s just not right. For fairy love, you should be visiting Kinky Blue Fairy’s – she’s on my blogroll. And altogether, Irish sex fairy is something I really know nothing about. Seriously.

3. My five-year old sister is a better cam-whore than I am.

4. One of the reasons why I don’t like reading books around people is because when I burst out laughing upon reading something funny, everyone looks at me like I’m nuts. Laughter is not a crime, people! Just because you can’t read it, jeez.

5. My brother’s Facebook status says he is wondering who the girl he kissed last night is. WHAT?

Deep breaths.

He started with ‘what’s up your tight little arse?’

I was fuming last night. You know when you think someone understands the entire situation inside out but doesn’t get your reaction? Yeah, like that. I sat up, jabbing at random things as I made my points over the telephone, like some stupid debate. I laid back down, too tired to make him see.

Over the telephone, things become difficult.

I took deep breaths, trying to suppress the Incredible Hulkess in me. And then the breaths changed its purpose and I tried not to cry.

Does it not make sense why I’m angry?
No, I have every right to be!
Then why the hell is he making me sound completely ridiculous and demanding and the most horrible girlfriend?
… I hate it when he does that to me.

Imagine someone asking you for a favour. You ask them to meet you halfway. But they don’t. They just make the same original demand.

HUH. Have they forgotten?

It wasn’t merely a question of appreciation; it’s more that he didn’t try. Yeah, he has his reasons but he never told me. I have no way of knowing how he thinks or feels if he won’t say a word, or when he says ‘I don’t wanna talk about it’. There’s only so many lines you can read in between before you hit a dead end smack in the face. And then to just turn around and throw it all at me the night before? Of course I was angry!

Then we just cut it. I said I’d do it. And in between stilted words was deliberate silence. We said goodnight. The cable to my phone charger was tangled with my fingers and when I extricated myself, he was still on the line, quiet. Yeah, it was my turn.

‘Hey..’
‘Yeah?’
‘I love you.’
‘I was wondering if you were gonna say it.’

And that sent me to laughter. The Incredible Hulkess slowly faded away. I told him he wasn’t to comment on my arse, and the jokes continued.

Over the telephone, things become simple.