is that me?

i awoke with a pounding in my head. oh how it hurt, felt like a thousand buffaloes had trampled over my head. where was i? looking around, the place seemed unfamiliar. and here i was, slumped on the lushly carpeted floor. wait a minute. my memory was slowly coming back to me. i was in the plaza hotel, in new york city. what the hell was i doing here? trying to sit myself upright, a shocking revelation dawned upon me. what in holy hell was going on? i know i'm fat, but my belly was the size of 3 bowling balls combined! oh my god! was i pregnant? yes i was! i am pregnant! i didnt have the energy to brace myself up, nor did i have any clue who the father was, or how i got preganant overnight, and made my way from singapore to new york in wht seemed like a blink of an eye, but here i was. stranded. and alone. before i could make room for any more thoughts, a searing pain slashed across my belly. no way, this was not happening. i never wanted children, i vowed never to have these brats. omg. the pain was unbearable. worse than being struck by forty-seven bolts of lightning(not that i've ever been struck by lightning.). whatever slight movement i made caused intense pain. there was only one tactic left. i had to make a phonecall, and i could see the cord dangling down from the dresser top. ok, remembering some exercises i saw way back when, i lay on my back, and wiggled towards the dresser, commando-style. my mind blocked out the pain when i felt a wetness in my pants, just as i reached my destination. this could not be happening, some one pinch me! i twisted the flesh on my arm as hard as i could, and knew this was real when i screamed out in agony, due to the self-torture. trying to look over at my pants, the bloody stomach blocked my view, i could barely see my feet! propping myself against the side of the bed, i recoiled at what i saw. it looked like i had a massive peeing session right there on the carpet. the pink fibres had now been water-stained to a deep muave, and i felt embarrassed, despite being alone in the suite. oh my god! i was in a suite in 'the plaza' hotel? all by myself? on fifth avenue? since when did i become this rich, ever? i still couldnt believe that it wasnt a dream. great. contractions. they were coming in waves. huge tidal waves that is. the worse thing i've felt in my belly would be menstrual cramps, but those were ant bites as compared to these, this monstrosity. suddenly, something hit me, not literally, but in the mind. a string of numbers swam around in my head, not for 4D or toto, but i had managed to decipher it, and alas! it was a phone number. grabbing the cord, and tugging the phone onto the ground next to me, i punched in the numbers. (shan't reveal the numbers here, for confidentiality sake. actually, i cant remember them now.) anyhow, i had a hunch that this number would bring me help.

"hello? who is this?"

"what? who IS THIS?"

"is that you? is the baby ok? are you, conceiving?? like, right now? i'm on my way! paris is coming too!"

"paris?'

it was too late. the mystery male had hung up on me, and i was left with thoughts afloat. paris? was he in paris now? were we going to paris? who was paris? and, who is this guy? my husband? my boyfriend? well, as long as i knew help was on the way, things would be fine. i hope. the pain was slowly consuming my muddled brain, and i saw the room start to spin, the vintage chandelier on the ceiling seemed to rotate like a fan, closer and closer, and then everything faded to black.

"wake up. wake up now. the doctor's here. he's gonna help deliver the baby. don't worry."

my eyes opened ever so slightly. yellow. everywhere. pale skin, yellow hair, masses of yellow hair. who were these people? squinting my eyes, the room, and faces came into view. fuck no. i had the strongest urge in the world to burst out laughing, but i know that would cause my early demise, as laughing is not exactly the best medicine for a woman in labour. you would never guess who was right before my eyes. standing there, in the flesh, the person i love to condemn. a foreigner. a yankee. yes, he was american, and i think i managed to figure this whole sequence out. he is my bf/husband/father of my child. and i wanted to give a deep evil laugh. show him a menacing face, but he had so much love and genuine sincerity and tenderness in his, that i just had to close my eyes again. and when i opened them, there she was. my so-called best friend. things were falling into persepective now. she, with tousled yet flowy long blonde hair, and he, with a messy shag of gold, both looking down at me, on the huge fluffy bed.

"now, breathe in and out, like what you learnt at lamaze class. slowly. are you ready? because your baby sure is ready to pop outta there!" the doctor cracked a joke at the wrong time. all i could do was give a grunt of approval.

"hold on there baby, i'll be by your side, ok? relax. come on. push! push! i cant wait to see the little bugger!" he looked so excited, like a little boy. i couldnt help but smile. well, it seemed like a distorted sort of lopsided grin, the best i could do.

"hey girl, i'm here too, and dont mind the doctor and your boy, who else would be better than me? and we bought tons of stuff for you already. the cot, these cute little booties from baby Guess. it was supposed to be a surprise, but oh well, what the fuck, i'll just tell you now, to calm your nerves!"

she was the epitome of bimbo. but she was my closest pal. unbelievable. but im glad she was there holding my other hand. as i pushed like there's no tomorrow, i suddenyl felt at ease. hearing the first cries of my child, i felt a weird sense of pride. i hated the sound of babies crying, but to hear my own, it was a 'moment'.

"here you go new mother. you're the proud mom of a beautiful baby...let's see now..." the doctor, that bastard actually peeked under the towels to determine the gender of the baby. what a whack job. he helped deliver my baby, and he didnt know it's sex? "a beautiful baby girl! just wanted to make sure....what are you going to call her?" he beamed at me with a cheesy smile, before handing the bundle of controversial joy to me.

she was still crying, little arms outstretched, probably angry that she had been disturbed of her comfortable resting place in my snug womb. here, she has entered the world, to suffer, to experience love, lust, anger, hatred, jealousy, greed, every emotion imaginable to man. to fuflil fate, to one day die. but she was mine, and i was glad. she looked so tender, so fragile, yet there was an aura of power surrounding her. she would grow up to be someone who could defend herself, not just physically, but she would use her wit to manipulate those around her.

"what are we going to call her? you decide, since she's going with my surname." he tickled her little nose. looking from him, to my little baby girl, i realized they had the same nose, the same fair hair, though hers were a shade or two darker, a rustic gold, almost bronze colour. anyhow, he loved her, and i was glad, though i didnt love him one bit.

"oh my god! that was like the grossest moment ever! but i'm so glad for you! now we've got someone to play dress-up with, and i can show her my whole wardrobe and stuff. oh my god! it would be so chic to go out with a fashion baby. i'm gonna do all the shopping for her,ok? please?" nothing could make me say no at this moment. i was overwhelmed with the fact that i had a child. me, a person who thought marriage as a last resort, and who vowed never to conceive, now has a little me to take care of. and here, my good friend, uncanny as it is, is so excited for me and herself. looking forward to the little adventures. well she had all the gold in the world anyway, rich bitch paris hilton. she could be the godmother, and pay for everything, talk about taking advantage of a situation.

"want me to sing you a song babe?" he had recovered from awe at staring at our daughter. nodding my head slightly, i agreed. i hated hearing his voice, but i wanted our child to love it. his over-expressive, almost nasal, acting oh-so-cool voice that millions the world over have been drawn to. i hated it. hated it to the downright core of the earth. it was painful to listen to, but i would allow it, this time, just for our baby girl. he started singing his song, i hoped it would be something meaningful, and it was.

"i stare at your face, into your eyes, outside there's so much passing us by......" the words swirled around in my mind, i was lost in the song. i so hated that voice, but the song was all i think about. "Who needs the world....when i got you..." oh, nick carter, i cant believe you fell for me, when i fell over laughing at you.

howdy-dowdy everybody. i have just narrated the 'nightmare' i had lst night. yes. ok, it was this morning, i was watching th aresenal-panathianikos match, then went to sleep. i guess i havent watched soccer in a long time, so the adrenaline rush from watching the match seeped into my dreams as well. oh my god. nick carter. backstreet boy. do you know how horrified i was when i saw his face in my dream? i didnt know why the fuck paris hilton was there, posing as my best friend? help me. im going nuts. ahahaha. to think i had such a overly wild imagination. ok, ive had wilder dreams, but i couldnt remember half of what went on in them. scary huh?

ok, presidential elections. being the avid television viewer that i am. i've been following up on the electoral votes. it seems as though bush might be winning. well, he had better, not that i like him much, but then hilary clinton would have a chance to run at the next elections, as a democrat. i'm really gung-ho for her to be the next, and first ever, female president. it would be cool for bill clinton to be the 'first gentleman', as how he was dubbed in the newpaper the other day. im sucha feminist. oh well. politics aint my cup of tea, just that it happens to be everywhere these days, on mtv, on oprah, on the news. grr.

oh, i have a sudden affinity for electrico, so much so that i think i wann goout and buy their album. oh my god. me, actually going out to by an album by asians? singaporeans for that matter? yes. because they dont sing cheena pia songs that bust your brains. hmmm...electrico, and well, maybe the pug jelly one. not sure if my brother has the pug jelly one, shall cheggit out.

dreams: try your best to remember them, be it vividly or not. they are a sign to what would happen next. or how best to make a decision in life. hah. pregnant. god, im still a virgin, why is it nick carter of all people?????? yucks.

***good luck for your O's and A's all you people out there. who shouldnt be online toread this, but what the heck.