the beach was SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSCRRRRRappppped. now someone owes someone a beach-picnic-&-rendam-kaki-&-make/fly-kite-date.

so there. i dont care what you think, muhammad nazri bin aris. i think THREAD can still do the trick of flying a kite up in the air. BOOchuk!

okok. he made up for it. sort of. orthodox date ah. lunch. movie. the works. fun nonetheless. notice that tone of distaste for convention. haha. i have nothing against it, i swear but sometimes, it's nice to go against the expected-events-line-up, you know?

ANYWAYS. warning -> pictures galore. may induce headache, if not looked at carefully. muahahaha.


honestly, the service there can be APPALLING. but when it's given, it's real neat lah. haha. paradoxical customer in me. my crayfish pasta rocked more than babyboo's cheese steak sourdough. hehe. he agreed too.. but what the hell. we were trying so hard NOT TO gobble down our food. then TAMA-hAK go and order desserts sekeping satu. when those yummy things came, our tummies churned in fear of not finishing OR finishing it & then puking. either way. food's always love.

fortunately for me & unfortunately for him (what is it with men and the 'saw' series?), we'd missed weekend's sneaks. so ordered tickets for another flick (see below) and with time in our hands and no major plans, we'd window-shopped M&S, made mental lists of to-buys including a bra&panty SET (i dont care) and jeans & polo tees. then set out for time together at a becoming-must-visit-when-we're-in-town.

confession. i simply adore (ok, admittedly, NOT SO PROUD OF) those chick flicks where the guy weaves through aisles at the library/bookshop. eyes fixated, beyond the shelves filthy with dusty books, on an unassuming girl at the other side. heeeeeeeeeeeeh. and i believe it's from these that i begin developing a secret thing for guys who are able to pick up a book. and sit down to actually READ IT. now, im not talking about magazines or sports pages off the daily papers. and of course, not pure graphics. as in porn. sheesh. the underrated power of words. and the even underrated ability to understand it. fuuuuuuuuuuu yoh!

the movie turned out very well. a bit artsy, admittedly. but neat artsy, not trying-too-hard-artsy. has watch-able actors with highly commendable acting skills & fantastic script to boot. and of course, droolsome guys OTHER than the one physically next to me of course ;)

one thing, though. it made me get high-strung with the thoughts of him going away soon and all. those many what-ifs: OK like he's going to get kidnapped by the army of brunei darussalam who'll train him to be the owner or GM of the royal plaza on scotts -____- but still, it's an if.

rendition. catch it.

today,

i feel pampered; the way you do the things you do and that i take for granted like carry my bag or feed me a mouthful of your burger-ramli-ish steak.

i feel appreciated; the way you twirl me at the underpass as the busker sang his tunes.

i feel synchronized; the way throughout the movie, we guessed who's-who, what's what and anticipated endings.

i feel all tingly wingly; the way you curl up next to me, whisper that you love me, loud enough for my ears only.

i feel belonged; the way faces endlessly stream by, but only you are there with me.

i feel light; the way you make me laugh out loud, chuckle with a smile, giggle with glee.

i feel we're on the same page; the way we both realize what's NOT working and choosing ways to work it out.

today, i feel.