Happy New Week.

Happy new week, people.

My fantastic Beyonce-Samsung Ultra
has broken into two and
zapped tens of my contact list.

Please pardon me should I
ask who you are when you text or call me.

It's a tragedy turned happily-ever-after fairy tale
'cos I finally got my dream phone.
The cherry on top of it
is an unlimited SMS plan.
So girlfriends [well you see, most of 'em got the plan
and when they text, they come like an avalanche.],
I shall no longer withhold replying your random text messages
and yak like there's no tomorrow.

Grin.

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Back to the picture on top.

This is one of my favourite childhood photograph.
First of all,
My beloved grandma was the photographer.

Secondly,
That grinning lady is one of my many ex domestic-helpers
whom according to my memory,
never rejected my pleas to play with me.

Thirdly,
the sky blue baby doll frock was one of my favourite.

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Getting into the mood of it,
let me show you my childhood companion -
Zara.
No kidding, she came with that nametag [on the right of her chest].
Zara is a few hundred dollars worth.
Clarice hated her.
Whenever she came to my home in our primary school days,
she'd screw up her face at Zara and mutter,
''Yuck. I hate dolls. They're freaky!''

Oh, how I'd quarrel with Clarice over that.
Grin.
Zara's a victim of one of my ambitious moments -
that time, to be a hairdresser.
Nevertheless, I spoke loads to her
and loved her like she's my baby.

I was forced to send her down the rubbish chute
by Aunt Zoe when I was 10.

No, I don't miss her.

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You have a great week ahead!

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