"You're wishin' too much, baby. You gotta stop wearing your wishbone where your backbone oughta be.”
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happy! learnt a jazz routine to adam lambert's "time for miracles" today. unfortunately, by the time i reached home, i forgot some of the in-between steps already. rahh. feel abit rusty cos' i think the last time i danced was in... 2007? either for the silent vocal concert or for the competition in genting. it's been so long i can't even remember which came first. feels good working and stretching those dormant muscles again.

watching 'the girl who played with fire' with jens tomorrow! half-thinking if i should bring her to colours to try the awesome aglio olio but i feel kinda lazy to walk to and fro from plaza sing.

baking apple crumble for our picnic on saturday! tiramisu will have to wait because i can't find my icebox :D

came home and found my dad tending the garden and watering the plants. such a bittersweet sight. i guess like me, he's starting to cherish what he has, only when he's about to lose it. and sometimes i do feel angry at him for making such a rash decision, for not even consulting with us. in a way, i feel like part of my memories will be buried away forever in this house, where my siblings and i grew up in, where we knew every nook and cranny, where we learnt how to skate and bike, where we planted our fruit and vegetable trees, where we spent our afternoons playing catching and lying on the grass. i spent years learning to trust it, memorising where every shadow was supposed to be till i wasn't scared anymore, and i love my garden because it's really mine, trees and flowers and all. to my primary school friends who visited, it was "the little house on the hill", and on lazy afternoons i used to sit/sleep on my porch watching the birds fly and feeling the soft afternoon sun on my back. my quiet hide-out, tucked away from all the hdbs and everyone else. i thought we were going to have this house forever, pass down to our children and grandchildren - i know it's not a big deal of a house, it's old and small and messy - but to be able to do that, would be perfect. i wish it wasn't so, but i know my parents have their reasons. and it's time to grow up and understand.

so... good-bye my childhood home.