Diana Bananas

Ah, yes, the joys of Halloween.

What was once an excuse to dress up like a $10 an hour prostitute, walk smugly into the hippest Singapore club and gyrate my hips against the loins of the first XY-chromosome specimen I see to the lyric of a fine gentleman telling all males to superman dat ho’ has now evolved into a very simple two-step process:

1. Dress up as fruit of choice; in this case, Banana.

2. Get chased by Gorilla down Kenmore Road.

Yes, this year, I willingly and voluntarily became the most unsexy fruit in the history of Halloween (arguable I guess; after all, I was phallic-shaped).

Suffice to say, Halloween was a whole different fruit bowl (*cue sympathy laughter at lame humor attempt*) for me this year.

In my head, I painted a picture of hundreds of kids lining up at our house gleefully, eager and waiting to receive candy from a humble banana and gorilla.

Unfortunately, my picture was not accurate. Only seven kids showed up. The streets were practically deserted. The poor banana and gorilla walked right out to the main road just to beckon to any children that may cross our path (none did).

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think that the kids are supposed to burst into tears upon seeing your costumes. Well, that’s what happened. No amount of Gorilla taking off his mask and assuring the kids that he was in fact, not a real gorilla, could appease them.

Rejected, dejected and desolate, we sat down in the kitchen and ate all our Halloween candy.

-Abrupt End-

The following video has been circulating, but this is the original, uncut version. Why couldn’t these kids have come to our house to collect candy?!

The first sign of winter arrived at approximately 9.30pm tonight when we stepped out of Sunset Canterina after helping ourselves to a ginormous bowl of nachos. I snuggled as far as I could into the two layers of my jackets, propped my furry hood over my head, adjusted my scarf so it was wrapped tautly around my neck, put on my gloves and buried my hands into my two front pockets.

One thing’s for sure — snow is much more romantic in the movies than it is in real life.

It was a dilemma; look up and watch the beautiful flecks fall upon my face at the expense of my hoodie (it would drop off my head once I looked up) thereby freezing my already frozen head, or look straight ahead into the angry traffic ignoring the beautiful sight that was falling all around me?

I walked to the train stop and waited for the slow, familiar rumbling of the wheels on the tracks.

Earlier this week, Nicole, Shuming, Xiao Ping and I agreed to exercise together at the BUGym. A simple enough plan almost foiled by the foul weather. We walked 150m toward the gym straight after class at 3.30pm in the heavy drizzle.

It was worth the visit. The BUGym is so beautifully made, I feel like I now know where all the money spent on my fees goes to. The treadmills overlook the competitive swimming pool, there is a juice and snack bar, basketball courts are in pristine condition and surrounding them at the top of a flight of stairs is an indoor running track. The squash courts are maintained very well and that will be next on our agenda for next week.

We had time to kill as the BU boys were training and we had no access to the pools until it was over at 5.30pm. I felt ridiculous in my bikini; apparently, form over fashion was the slogan of the day and everyone at the pool was garbed in one-piece suits. Swam a few laps and went back to the locker rooms for a shower, only to be greeted by a view of a completely naked side-boob. There’s a culture that I’m not accustomed to. I turn to my right and see this 50-year old woman bending over and exposing her mature but firm buttocks to me.I stifle a giggle as Nicole looks at me as if saying “Very mature, Banana, very mature.”

Why yes I am, Nicole, yes I am.

I had borrowed Nicole’s goggles and dropped it on the pool floor by accident so I went to get it and who should I bump into but Seth, who is a classmate of mine and resembles JFK (Yes, the JFK). I try to not look at him and pretend to text but he goes “Hello!”.

I am forced to reply.

“Erm Hi, I would have preferred to have bumped into you under different circumstances i.e. fully clothed”

(At this point I awkwardly try to cover my body with my iPhone. *facepalm*)

“Oh, don’t worry, let’s make it even, this is what I’ve been wearing at the pool.” He proceeds to pull out his teeny-tiny Speedos and grins.

It doesn’t really make me feel better but I appreciate the effort. We make small talk about Halloween and I hastily make my way in the opposite direction he is walking.

Speaking of Halloween, our decorations are mostly up and Kendal carved a pumpkin and it’s sitting on our counter, looking quite uncomfortable being alone. Hence, Justin and I went out to buy one and will be carving it over the weekend. I’ve gotten comfortable in my banana outfit and am really looking forward to Halloween tonight! The day in my costume will begin at 5pm – Justin’s class at HST are throwing a Halloween party and we’ll be making our debut there. Then at 6pm, I have to rush off to a bar near BU where my co-workers and I (from the Writing Center) are scheduled to have drinks. Following which, there is a massive Halloween party at House of Blues starting 9pm onwards where Justin will meet me and we will party til whatever time gorillas and bananas usually party.

Our plan is as we make our way to Harvard tomorrow, I will run ahead first and Justin will have to chase me (gorilla chasing banana… get it? )

On Monday it gets more intense!

Scenario 1: We will wait for unsuspecting kids to show up at our doorstep. Justin will hide behind the bushes and I’ll appear at the door to say hi and give out candy. Justin jumps out and scares the living bejeezus out of the poor rascals!

Scenario 2: Justin and I open the door and we hand out bunches of bananas to the kids. No candy (gorillas don’t eat candy). Just bananas.

Will they be as happy as above after receiving bananas?

It should be one heck of a weekend. I’m glad I have tons to do to distract myself from the fact that I’m missing my sister’s wedding. :/

These are cashews.

Bless you!

(Haha, geddit?)

Ok, anyway, these are cashew nuts bought on sale from Rite Aid. They help lower my cholestrol. I feel better already.

These are badminton rackets which we just bought from Target.

This is a shuttle cock.

We didn’t get the shuttle cock. We got the shitty cocks instead.

One day, we will get shuttle cocks.

This was the forecast for the weather today.

This was the actual weather.

Tomorrow they predict rain. I will bring out my shades & bikini.

(FYI that is not me, but this was the only picture I found that was most similar to my looks and body type.)

And that was how my day went.

THE END.

Once upon a time, in a far far away land, there was a girl named Flagina. She was a fine specimen; long black hair which glistened in the sun, impeccable complexion which would bring a thousand knights to their knees, even hourglasses would try to mould their shape to mirror her flawless figure.

But Flagina was not perfect. She inherited two evil sisters and two younger bratty brothers along with her fine beauty. Because of their envy of her perfection, they banished her from their sight, refusing to return her love and affection. Despite these obstacles and challenges, the kindhearted lady (or princess, as some would rightfully call her) would still ask after them and pen down her innermost feelings and emotions in letters to them.

Day after day, she would wrap these letters up in baby’s breath and tulips; and would use her delightfully scented (peach with a hint of mint) armpit sweat to seal them closed. The birds who constantly surrounded her with endless melodic tunes would then pick them up gently from her delicate fingers and deliver them.

She never would get a response; and even when she did, all her wretched siblings could muster up were 2 miserable lines! 2 miserable lines, barely legible, spewing hatred and jealousy.

You must understand dear reader, that it was not completely their fault. You see, Flagina’s siblings turned psycho from a spell cast upon them many moons ago. They were also cursed with cheese. Lots of cheese growing from every part of their body (especially her two brothers). Despite cleaning and scrubbing at it every day, it would always grow back – faster and more furious than before. Flagina was spared from this curse because of her shield of perfection which defended her against all evil.

And also, Flagina’s siblings were unable to cast long distance spells.

Because of this unfortunate situation her siblings were in, they couldn’t stop thinking about cheese. They obsessed over it, they sent her a list of stores which sold cheese, gave her suggestions on how to best transport cheese, giggled at its slightest mention…

Flagina sorely wanted to return home, but her evil siblings instructed her that she would never ever be allowed to return unless she brought with her 23kg of cheese (at that time, 23kg was the limit that the cargo dragon could carry on its back).

Her siblings wanted to drown her in cheese in the hopes that it would attach permanently to her body. Only then, would they accept her as one of them and return her love.

How was she ever to procure 23kg of cheese?

So there Flagina was, moping and weeping to her heart’s content. She moaned and wept on the emotionless kitchen counter top. She flailed her arms wildly while wailing about her longing for unconditional affection. She finally lost her breath and frantically opened the front door to gasp for fresh air.

Two huge flies flew in ruthlessly and recklessly and never left her side.

And that is the story of how the 2 flies came to be.

THE END.

As luck would have it, I waited half an hour for bus 69 (I giggle childishly to myself whenever I see it) to Harvard Square. Ya ya ya, the wait wasn’t too bad, the skies were blue as hell, but when you’ve forgotten to put on deodorant and your armpits are starting to weep, you don’t really care about the blue skies and pretty greenery.

When I got off the bus, I walked in the opposite direction for 20 minutes. So I did what everyone does whenever they realize they’re walking to A when they’re supposed to be walking to B. Come on, you know what I’m talking about:

…Walk slows down as realization grows that you’re walking in the wrong direction (moron). You stop dead in your tracks and wonder what to do without looking like the idiot you actually are. Instinctively, your hand goes into your pocket and whips out your phone. You harriedly pretend to read a bogus text message (In my head it went something like this,”Hi banana, the meeting has changed. So sorry I told you the wrong directions. Instead of walking to the wrong, please walk to the right. ktnxbai!”) and slightly nod, as if in compliance.

With the arrival of this text message, suddenly, this abrupt change in direction is no fault of yours! You turn on your heel and off you go in the right right direction, feeling smug that in your head you managed to avoid looking like an idiot.

Stupid text message sender who gave you the wrong directions! Grr…

For the uninitiated and those of you with short attention span (ya, I’m talking to you Flabby), I scoured the web and managed to find this online:

So I finally located Verizon (one of US’ network providers) and I was determined to purchase my mobile phone plan. The entire bloody entrance was blocked by a construction site!

VERIZON WHY YOU NO SECOND ENTRANCE?!!

So fine. I continued walking and decided to make my way to the Harvard Coop bookstore. The moment I sat down, after having decided on a book to read (without buying it, of course), I had to poop.

Unfortunately, faced with severe public poop anxiety, I held off on my poop-party-of-one and went to buy lunch first.

Don’t you hate it when toasted bread grazes across the roof of your mouth ridding itself of its epithelial cell lining?

OK now I am going to poop.

THE END.