Unknown Pain

This is bad… for some unknown cause, my left hand feels a little strange. Somehow, it had a minor sprain such that it only hurts in certain positions or when I am playing notes that range over an octave at times, and it would feel quirky in certain other positions. Otherwise, it feels perfectly normal. And this doesn’t help if I need to use my hands for playing the piano/keyboard in church for the next 4 days of my life. Strangely, my subconscious failed to notify me, even in the quirkiest manner, like the last time.

And since I don’t recall blogging about the last time my subconscious tried to notify me about spraining my toe(s) (seriously, I wasn’t sure if I sprained my toe or a few of them since moving any of them hurt. And don’t ask me how I sprained my toe. In fact, you should ask my subconscious how it did it, since I in my right/conscious/non-masochistic/lost-much-sanity-in-a*rospace-but-still-sane-enough mind wouldn’t go about spraining my toe(s), and on top of that, spraining a weird and difficult-to-sprain-thing like a toe, as compared to an ankle), this was what had happened a middle-length time ago (you see, it is neither a long time nor a short time. Thus, this is the best description I could come up with for now):

[In a dark, dark area deep within the subconscious region (well, it’s not a nightmare, just that I happened to be asleep. And since I’m sleeping without a dream, I guess all that can be seen is only blackness)]

Glass Cookie’s (GC) subconscious: Hey, something just got hurt.

GC: Yea, I feel it. Strange. Ai ya, don’t disturb me. I want to sleep.

GC’s subconscious: Hey, don’t you want to know what hurts? Alright, I shall increase the electrical signal to the nerves.

GC: Hey, that hurts. Fine, something hurts. But… heck la. I want to sleep (rather, it should be: I do not want to wake up yet, because, well.. I'm still asleep). Leave me alone.

GC’s subconscious: Hey, the nerves in your toe(s) would like to convey the message that it/they is/are hurting.

GC: Yea, I get it. Leave me alone.

GC’s subconscious: OK, whatever you say.

[Then, at different intervals ranging between minutes to an hour, for the rest of the number of hours before GC wakes up, the following happened. It happened about 5 to 10 over times]

GC’s subconscious: Hello! =) Say, could you feel the pain? Something’s hurting.

GC: Not again! Arrrgh, I want to sleep. Leave me alone!

GC’s subconscious: Okay!

[Then GC finally wakes up]

GC’s conscious (yup, it’s no longer the subconscious. Well, this is just my own theory, thus, you might disagree, but... GC has woken up, hasn’t he? Thus, the subconscious is now relatively unconscious, and the unconsciousness has somewhat become conscious, and the conscious is not the subconscious. Hmmm, this might sound confusing. OK… before I drift off to another topic…): Hey, your toes hurt!

GC’s thoughts (Well, it’s GC’s thoughts as GC didn’t wake up in the morning talking to himself. That would be a disturbing thing. So, you could treat it as GC’s thoughts = GC. And again, this is just my own theory: the thought and the conscious are different elements as what he feels [ie. nerves] and what he thinks [ie. considers, analyzes] may not necessarily originate from the same source although both do happen in the same place – the brain. Well, before I drift off yet again to another irrelevant topic): Arrrgh! My toes hurt.

GC’s conscious: Hey, you notice the pain? It’s not small. So, it must have been badly hurt.

GC’s thoughts: Hmmm, what happened? I wonder if this is a sprain…

GC’s subconscious (well, though it’s relatively dormant, it does become activated once in a while to do stuff, be it relevant, irrelevant, called-for or uncalled-for): Hey, remember our conversation just now/last night/just now/last night/just now/last night? (You see, sometimes the subconscious likes to get one to think about whether it was just now or last night. And somehow, it likes to present both possibilities and repeat them to continually confuse one over the choice of which term to use although they may well mean/be the same)

GC’s thoughts: What???!!! I subconsciously sprained it?

GC’s subconscious: Yup. You did.

GC’s thoughts: Hey, I didn’t! YOU (ie. GC’s subconscious) did!!!


Thought (Well, though it’s also GC’s thoughts, it is not a continuation of the above recount. And as such, it's not set as yellow in colour): I hope my subconscious does not start spraining stuff without telling me.

The T43 Interview Sequel²

No thanks to some coffee, I'm awake at night. And since much sanity has been lost coupled with the fact that it is 1:43 a.m. in the morning...

Interviewer [this was the same interviewer in the previous interview]: Hi Glass Cookie's (GC) laptop. I believe we have met.

GC's laptop: You are...? Who are you anyway? Well, I do not have to know you, but you have to know me.

Interviewer (taken aback, and almost offended): Hmmm... why is that so?

GC's laptop: Well, considering that this is my master's 100th post, I am the star of the day man.

Intervewer (irritated, but trying to sound as polite as could be with a forced smile): Whatever you say then.

GC's laptop: Of course. I'm the star, I'm the star... [produces an excited and happy sound] I'm the star...

Interviewer: So, how has your master been?

GC's laptop: Hey, why aren't you asking me how I am?

Interviewer (with the look on his face that says that his purpose about finding more about GC is not going to be that straightforward once again): Alright, alright. So, how have you been?

GC's laptop: Terrible! Terrible, terrible, terrible! So much for calling it his 3rd hell week. My master actually forgot that me - his laptop - is going through these hell weeks with him.

Interviewer (with the hope that all could be found out about GC through this laptop's babbling): Oh, how did you go through these 3 weeks?

GC's laptop: I had to present his notes, run powerpoints, run programming languages, run this, run that. And to top it all, music is always running and it takes up and average of 5% of all my processing.

Interviewer (puzzled): But, 5% is quite little right?

GC's laptop: So? It's still 5%. A c-o-n-s-i-s-t-e-n-t 5% whenever he's around.

Interviewer (remembering something): Hey, from my records, you once mentioned that he stopped programming, right?

GC's laptop: Yup. That's true. But his lecturer wanted him to code whatever theory he learnt in c++ for a CA. On top of that, he undertook a freelance programming assignment. That's why. Well, at least that made me feel more like a programmer's laptop, though no longer anymore [produces a lamenting sound]. And no thanks to that tiramisu of his sis' during dinner!!! [displays a picture of the face of an irritated person on its screen]

Interviewer (puzzled and intrigued): Erm, why do you not feel it any longer? And what has it got to do with a tiramisu?

GC's laptop: He uninstalled some JCreator for some Java programming. With a programming language less on my system, I'm a lesser programmer's laptop. Isn't that sad?

Interviewer: Erm, although I couldn't identify with you on that, I guess it should be sad. And... the tiramisu... what's the link?

GC's laptop: Oh well, it's just my guess. I overheard him complaining about some coffee in tiramisu. Apparently, he forgot that tiramisu contains coffee and he took a bite of it during dinner and now he's complaining. And yea, yea, that same ole story as always about coffee.

Interviewer (sensing that it is going off-topic, but he is curious to find out): Okay... and what of that 'ole' story?

GC's laptop: Well, according to his story, once he went for some church camp when he was a kiddo. And after drinking 2 cups of bitter coffee during breakfast to keep awake, he went up to his room to rest for a while. Before he knew it, his parents were knocking urgently on the door because he fell asleep for over 45 minutes.

Interviewer: Wow... was that some sleep inducing coffee?

GC's laptop: If only it were sleep inducing coffee, I wouldn't feel a part of me missing now.

Interviewer: So, what of that sleep inducing part of coffee? How did it make you a lesser-programmer's laptop as you've described?

GC's laptop: Oh, I've not completed the story.

Interviewer (with that -.-" look): OK. Go on...

GC's laptop: Then after many years, there was a number of evenings around 7-9 p.m. or so when he consumed a coffee sweet or a coffee cake. Those were the dreadful nights when he would be tossing and turning around until 4 a.m. or so. I'm glad I wasn't bought then. Goodness knows what kind of a life it'll be for me. It would have been utterly dreadful!

Interviewer (seeing no link): So, how do the two parts of the story link?

GC's laptop: Well, it's simple. His conclusion of the matter was that, coffee worked for him when he least needed it, and it failed him when he needed it the most.

Interviewer (seeing no link still, and getting a little impatient): So, what has this conclusion got to do with you losing a part of yourself?

GC's laptop: He uninstalled JCreator because of that!!!

Interviewer (with the thought that it's getting no where): What has JCreator got to do with coffee? If I recall correctly, that's Java programming right?

GC's laptop: Yup. It is. Although I have no proof, I suspect that he did it out of spite. You see, the logo for Java is a cup of coffee. Worse still, they came up with NetBeans, which is yet another Java programming tool. He might well have been so irritated with that tiramisu, coffee and its beans that he uninstalled anything that has got to do with Java and their non-drinkable coffee products. And there goes JCreator... [produces a lamenting sound] I'm a lesser programmer's laptop... sigh...

Interviewer: OK, but what if he uninstalled it because he didn't need it? Say, was he a Java programmer?

GC's laptop: Hey, come to think about it, yup, I think that is possible. He doesn't deal much with Java. In fact, he installed it in preparation for computer programming, which required it. Well, although it might well have nothing to do with coffee, a part of me is still lost. Sigh...

Interviewer: So, how has Glass Cookie been?

GC's laptop: It has been terrible for me! I have to complete 8 of his nonsensical projects from his core, and another one from his elective. They range from programming to solidworks modelling, from typing essays and powerpoints to notes downloading and reading. And all these on top of music!!!

Interviewer (mumbling to himself): But I wasn't asking about you...

GC's laptop: Huh? Could you speak louder? I can't hear you.

Interviewer (wondering if he might have been heard, and taken by surprise): Well... erm... Oh, yup. At least you seem fine to me. Oh, back to what I wanted to ask initially, is your master fine?

GC's laptop: Well, he mentioned about trying to preserve his sanity. He'd better, or there would be no end to his slave driving. Can you imagine, me working through the night from 8 p.m. to 7 a.m. once? Just as I thought his roomie's laptop was the only poor fellow working through the night...

Interviewer (satisfied that he has gathered enough data): Well, I guess that's enough for today. I'll take my leave now.

GC's laptop: Hey, you've not given me a name yet!

Interviewer (pretending not to hear it, waves his hand and starts walking away ): So long!

[The interviewer's steps increases in terms of distance covered and frequency at the laptop's increased bugging, gradually to that of a frantic run]


Wow... never underestimate the freaky powers of coffee. I shall try to enter lala land by force now, even if it meant a humiliating surrender to the z-monster during battle.

Sanity Or Insanity?

Today was an interesting day. Someone approached me and this was how it all began:

[Glass Cookie (GC) walks past a coursemate just before the a*rospace materials lecture]

A*rospace coursemate [AC, and this has nothing to do with GC's junior college, nor a crappy friend that GC knows]: Hi!

GC (stopped in his tracks, though not too abruptly): Oh, Hi!

AC: So, may I know your first name?

GC (surprised, and wondering what's wrong with him): Oh, it's [GC's first name].

AC: And your last name?

GC: Well, it's [GC's last name].

AC: Oh, ok. Hi [GC's full name]. How are you?

GC: Well, not too bad.

GC's thoughts: Erm, don't you know me? Say, are you ok? Although I'm personally bad with names... I do know you well enough to remember your name what...?

AC (eagerly, with formality): Oh, that's good. Nice to meet you!

GC (sensing that he's gone crappy): Oh, nice to meet you too! So, have you managed to preserve your sanity?

AC: Well, not exactly.

GC (agreeing, as if he could empathise with him. Yup, it's empathy, not sympathy): Oh yea, with all the projects right?

AC (smiling): Definitely.

Well, although the above seemed like nothing much, and the phrase 'all the projects' merely sounded like the normal homework just like the kind everyone is exposed to, allow me to elaborate on what kind of stuff the lecturers here are doing/giving. In fact, it's so bad, all one could do (or perhaps it's only me and a handful in where I am) is to try his or her best to preserve one's sanity. And, trust me, it's not easy to retain one's sanity. In fact, I almost feel as if it doesn't matter if I lose more of my sanity or not, because... because... there's nothing much of my sanity left to be lost.

Well, for one of the sanity-consuming projects that caused my entire team of 5 people to work through the night from 8 p.m. till 7 a.m. (although the lack of sleep was definitely a contributing factors to all the frenzies and craziness, it's but a teeny weeny bit, really) in the morning, here was what the project looked like:

Well, you might ask: So what's the big deal? It's only some bunch of seats and a toilet arranged just like in the floor plan of the A380. Well, maybe you might also want to take a look at this:

Yup. It's a normal chair and a wheelchair. It's nothing impressive. It's merely two of those chairs that you see in the assembly. So, let's take a closer look at a small component of the wheelchair:

Just in case you're wondering what this is, it's the part at the base of the wheelchair, to lock the wheelchair in place. Hmmm... if by now, you're still thinking that the project was still simple, maybe this picture would elaborate more:

If you're wondering where this fits into, see the holes at the bottom of the locking mechanism? Yup, this little nut and bolt goes in there. And just in case you're also wondering, yup, the entire wheelchair is made up of blocks, rods, cushions, wheels and pieces, all created and assembled together. If you thought that was all, after I've gone down 4 levels, nah - that's not all. I mean, how simple could life possibly get in engineering in my case? In fact, there's one more level:

Yup, even this cute (well, if it's cute to you in the first place) little nut is part of an assembly. Sadly/tragically/horrifically/[whichever-3-words-first-mentioned]-which-is-an-understatement/I-can't-think-of-a-worse-word-or-phrase, there's one more level down after the above mentioned "one more level" - the most basic of all levels:

Firstly, we have to draw a shape, set all the dimensions properly, make sure all the lines are connected, and then create a block. Then, we draw a circle, set all the dimensions so that it's exactly in the middle of the block, then cut a hole through. That's how we got the nut. So, all you see in this all-but-one-out-of-7-other-projects (though the 7 are of varying magnitudes of difficulty and commitment required) were created from scratch. It's no wonder why I have to come online to rant about stuff in order to keep my sanity, or rather, whatever sanity that's left.

And it's interesting how history just loves to repeat itself just like an old grandmother/grandfather. In fact, it's more cheong hei than an old grandmother/grandfather considering that history enjoyed repeated itself all the way from Adam up till now, and would continue to do so till the end of time. Doesn't it get tired or something? Oh, just in case I drift away from the main topic about history having to go for some memory booster programme to remind itself that it has repeated itself several times (erm, pardon me for getting crappier... it's 1:40 a.m. now, you see)...

[some time after the initial spontaneous, yet formal greeting from AC]

AC: Hey, since you like IT so much, why are you in a*rospace engineering?

GC (sigh, once again, history has repeated itself for the as-countless-as-the-computer-engineering-question-plus-one time): Well, beats me.

Since it's been a crazy 2 weeks that I've gone through, yup. I shall declare a holiday (Hmmm, come to think about it, since it's at night, it should be a declared holinight rather than a holiday. It's dark outside...) for today and simply rest. I'll probably start work only later today, considering it's past midnight =)

Conclusion: With a burning passion, I dare say... ... nah... better not be cheong hei lest I should rival some grandfather of some sort in the art of repetition.

Thought: I need to preserve my sanity...

Detective Work *Updated

Arrrgh! The SASA product has come to haunt me (scroll down the tag board for the pink SASA product post)!!! And as such, I got curious and decided to do a little detective work to see who was involved with that freaky salesgirl to cause that SASA Cellnique product to tag me.

And as such, this is the information I have gathered:

IP address of the SASA product: 202.156.172.20 (Starhub Cable Vision)
This address was similar to the IP of my haunting shear stress equation: 202.156.172.238

As of today, this particular IP number belongs to a Starhub user. Based on history, the Starhub users that visit my blog are:

- Miss R
- Kelvin Lim
- Joel
- Jeraldine
- Edmund Chen *
- Unidentified Mysterious Poster

By elimination, my dear piano teacher's out of the picture since she doesn't have a habit of using caps unless she wants to emphasise on something. Also, after contacting her about it to confirm my doubts, yup, she's not the one (or so she claims). So, that leaves us with:

- Kelvin Lim
- Joel
- Jeraldine
- Edmund Chen *

Since posts by Joel, Jeraldine and Kelvin Lim both contain caps, the above elimination doesn't filter them out.

Considering that the time of the post is close to 11 p.m., the user might well be a home user. Thus, the likelihood of someone who was at a friend's place who happened to be a Starhub Cable Vision user is most likely not possible.

Considering that it does require some level of crappiness and playfulness... Kelvin Lim seemed to possess most of it, followed by Joel, then Jeraldine (who is seemingly anti-crap at times). Do note that there is a huge gap in terms of crapping abilities between Joel and Jeraldine although both names start with a 'J' and 'Joel' shares 3 identical letters with 'Jeraldine' and in a similar position in terms of order (ie. 'J' comes first for both names, followed by 'e', then 'l' in the sharing of identical letters).

On top of that, based on IP histories, there might be a possibility that Jeraldine has shifted from Starhub Cable Vision to Singnet. Moreover, it's unlikely that she was the one who posted it if Mr/Miss/Mrs (hmmm, considering that most of my friends are unmarried, and my married ex-cell leader doesn't read my blog, 'Mrs' would be out of the picture. Hey, why am I wasting time eliminating salutations? Hmmm, back to the orginal intended elimination...) Shear Stress = Pink Cellnique product, considering the shear stress post earlier on required some 'A' level (at least) or engineering knowledge. Thus, suspicion could be lowered for her.

And if the above Mr/Miss shear stress required science knowledge of some level, I guess Joel's out of the picture, which leaves us with:

- Edmund Chen *
- Kelvin Lim
- Unidentified Mysterious Poster

Hmmm... then again, the contents and style of Mr/Mrs shear stress do vary quite hugely, and as such, Joel would be back in the picture.

So, the updated list would be:
- Kelvin Lim
- Joel
- Edmund Chen *
- Unidentified Mysterious Poster

Yet again, considering the personality of Joel, it doesn't seem that he would like to pose as a pink product. So, there's a high chance he's out of the picture.

Well, since I'm at the end of my elimination methods, hey, could the above mentioned people post a comment to state that you're not the one, and hence clear your name once and for all? Remember (yes, this is a blackmail), God sees what you're typing. So, do not lie... (come to think about it, this can't be a blackmail. Rather, it's a whitemail since lying is not a good thing and advocating something good surely doesn't belong to the dark side of things, right?). And since it is a whitemail anyway, I might as well state that silence = guilty. Also, no posting under the name of 'Unidentified Mysterious Poster' is allowed... =)

Considering the crapping capabilities of the suspects, together with the recent clue of Mr Hi saying Hi and Hello, the only possibilities would be *

- Kelvin Lim
- Edmund Chen
- Unidentified Mysterious Poster

Then again, I guess as this detective work progresses over time, crappy induction would cause more people to join in to try to confuse me. Well, although the latest IP address on my tag board by Mr Hi is from Starhub Cable, more exactly it's from "Starthub Cable Vision Ltd Singapore Broadband Access Provider". So, that might well have been an attempt to make things a little messier. And as such, the list remains the same as the previous one before the update: *

- Kelvin Lim
- Joel
- Unidentified Mysterious Poster

Thought: I wonder who it really was... This is getting messy... *

* Updated

Crappy Logic And Equations

As usual, it's late at night (come to think about it... usual is an understatement because "late at night" happens every day. So, it should be periodically/after a full cycle/it's the time of the day again... etc. in place of "as usual"), and somehow crappiness is increasing. And since recently I have been mentioning how a picture being able to speak a thousand words (and once again, it's figuratively speaking [and once yet again, it's figuratively speaking {and hey, I could go on with brackets like that for eternity, but I'd better not...}]. Yup, it might sound obvious, but the last time I watched a picture speaking literally and not figuratively in some horror movie, I was freaked out. So, the bottom line is: (1) This is not a horror blog post. (2) You are not about to hear any sound coming from my blog. (3) This blog post was not inspired by some freaky horror movie with pictures talking. (4) Although this is point number 4, it has nothing to do with anything superstitious with death, and more freakily, on top of talking pictures in horror movies. Oops... I think I have strayed from my main point once again), I thought I might as well express my crappiness with visual aids (ie. pictures).

Anyway, since the holidays are coming to an end, and school is starting once again... here's a description of my school life with pictures and equations:


Given that:

confused=, boredom+sleep indusive=, sick=;
sad=, really, really sad=, speechless=;

Then:

Aer*space = ( + + + + + ) ^ n,
where n = number of days in aer*space

And since, recently:

Days in NTU = + s + s - ,

and

After != , (note: != means not equal to)

and

speed in hall =

and

hall = no = no

Therefore,

=

and
Aer*space = ( + + + + + ) ^ n³, where n = number of days hours in aer*space.

Thought: Sigh... school's starting soon.

A Barely-Two-Minutes-But-Definitely-Traumatising Experience

Today, I was browsing through a list of blogs and somehow, a friend's blog happened to catch my attention. Basically, she needed something which could only be found in Bugis and some areas around central Singapore, and it would be nice if someone could get it for her considering that she lives in Tampines and it does take time to travel that far. Coincidentally, I happened to be meeting Shannon and Joel for dinner at Bugis, so, I thought I'd be nice and do her a favour. And so, to Parco I went. And well, that was the start of the barely-two-minutes-but-definitely-traumatic experience. And so, this was what had happened:

[Glass Cookie (GC) stands before the SASA shop at Parco, and somehow, he couldn't help but notice that it's somewhat pink, be it the exterior or interior of the shpop]

GC's thoughts (rationalizing): Nah, I shouldn't stereotype pink as something totally female. Yup. I mean... could it be?...

[As GC observes the shop, he couldn't help but notice that there are totally no males in the shop. Nope, not one at all. In fact, even the people working there are all females]

GC's thoughts (rationalizing again): Nah, even if it's an all-female shop, I'm sure some couple would just come in and offset the GC-being-the-only-male statistic of that shop to at-least-two-guys-in-a-seemingly-all-female-shop.

[GC hesitates for a short while, then enters the shop]

GC's thoughts: Hmmm, it's getting uncomfortable. I think I'd better get this over and done with, within the shortest possible time. And the best way to go is to get assistance. Yup.

GC (approaching a salesgirl at the counter): Erm... hi! Well, I'm getting something, and here's the message that was sent to me - a description of this particular product [showing the contents of the sms to the lady]. It's called Cellnique or something like that. Do you have it?

Salesgirl: Oh, OK. Wait a minute. I go and check.

[GC looks around uncomfortably. Unfortunately, the rationalization about couples strolling in didn't come to pass. In fact, the discomfort level has increased, since he couldn't help but notice that some females have noticed that he is the only male around]

GC's thoughts: Hey, some females/girls/salesgirls/arrrgh-it-doesn't-matter-who-they-are-since-female-is-what-they-all-are are looking in my direction. Is it such a rare sight to see a guy in such a shop? OK, I think it is after all. Sigh, I want to get out soon, really, really soon.

[A conversation took place between the salesgirl and someone probably her manager, to confirm the availability and location of the product. After that has been confirmed, the salesgirl approached GC]

Salesgirl: OK, we have it. Please follow me...

[GC is led to a shelf with lots of that Cellnique thingy]

GC (concerned, lest he should get the wrong product): So, this is the Cellnique pro sebum gel? And in some pink box?

[GC takes out his handphone, refers to the sms he received to confirm the description]

Salesgirl (with an almost seemingly cheeky look): Yes.

GC (convinced that it's the exact item): Yup, it suits the description. This is the one.

[Although the salesgirl took the product for GC to scan at the counter, he couldn't help but notice it's a product with a deep pink coloured casing with some design on it. It's definitely a what-people-would-refer-to-as-a-girly-thingy]

GC's thoughts: Oh man... the salesgirl had better not think I'm getting it for myself... Arrrgh, I want to get out of here, NOW (with fading echoes of "now, now, now, now..." resounding in his brain)!!!

[GC follows the salesgirl to the counter to pay for the item]

GC's thoughts (rationalizing): Nah, I doubt she would think like that. I mean, it's common for guys to buy things on behalf of their girlfriend, right? Although I have no idea if that's the norm... yup, she might just be thinking that I'm getting it for my girlfriend or something. Hmmm... it feels weird and uncomfortable to get something like that (now that I know what it is exactly). Oh well, everything's fine. Yup. Phew, it's getting over...

GC: Could I pay by NETS?

Salesgirl (smiling): Of course.

[This time, GC couldn't help but notice that the salesgirl is obviously smiling cheekily. Initially, perhaps she tried to hide it, but this time round, it's blatantly obvious]

GC's thoughts: Hmmm... why is she smiling like that? Hey, so what if I'm the only guy in this shop? And so what if I'm probably the only guy that entered today? Oh, no... what if I was probably the only guy that entered ever since this shop opened? Nah, that's not possible.

[After the transaction is over, the salesgirl passes GC his NETS card and GC starts to keep the card and receipt in his wallet]

Salesgirl (cheekily): So, are you buying it for yourself?

GC's thoughts (whatever you read in this line is an understatement): ARRRRRRRGHHHHH!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!

GC (maintaining composure, and trying to soundproof his brain so as not to let the above exclamation of worst-fear-come-true/worst-nightmare-come-true/horror-of-horrors/terror-of-terrors/nightmare-of-nightmares... etc. to leak out and cause an earthquake that would hit a Guinness Book record of 50 on the Richer scale and wiping out singapore from the face of the earth, and having stained his hands [or rather, his brains] with the blood of over 4 million people and having to be answerable for it): Erm... no... (wavering from the shock)... I'm... getting it for a friend.

GC's thoughts: Arrrgh!!! From that look I can see that you're (ie. the salesgirl) not convinced but... but... hey, I'm telling you the truth here, OK? A wavering kind of response doesn't mean I'm lying. OK, it's a terrible presention of the answer. Sigh... I mean, do I look like the vain kind of guy who would go to such a place and pretending to buy it for someone else? Hey, do I look like what they would call a metrosexual guy? Cannot be what...?

[GC tries not to look at the salesgirl and concentrates keeping the items, and popping the product into his bag. But somehow, at the corner of his eye, he could see that the salesgirl is smiling at an ever increasingly cheeky magnitude. Once all is done, GC immediately headed out of the shop without looking back]

And so, that was the brief summary of the barely-two-minute experience. And up till now, I'm still wondering what made her ask me that kind of a question. This is bad bad bad bad bad... and definitely traumatising.

Thought: It's amazing how the brain could process so many thoughts in such a short period of time.