Somehow, I'm feeling all the love gushing from the spirit of the festive season. Especially starting yesterday. I'm actually very glad to have people like you, you, you, you and you.
Just got home from my ballet teacher's house party. Not bad really; I didn't quite feel the hours that past! Lots of laughter, lots of friendliness, and lots of DESSERT :D
L4D2-ed last night.
And I woke up this morning remembering that I had just experienced certain representation of zombie scenes during my supposedly good night's rest. What's more, I became a zombie in those sensational moments omg. Strange, considering that I majorly played the human roles in the games last night.
The night before- zouked.
It's sucha stupid place (now don't ask me why I was there), and this initial thought that I harboured when the night just started totally swelled exponentially when something oh-so-exciting happened.
Exciting for some dood.
For one, the dancefloor was so BOOMZ. I think the amount of dance I managed to do kind of amounted to at most a few minutes for the entire night. The rest of whatever movements I made were just courtesy of the movements in lieu of my surrounding then.
Then. I was walking - and squeezing furiously - through the crowd at the dancefloor, when I felt this hand groping my right butt cheek. Bottom-up. And from up it continued to make its way slowly down. AND up again.
Oh em gee.
The rest of the night was plain absolute crap already.
Grace was the worst off I guess; some dood somehow some way conveniently dropped some piece of some broken glass piece onto her left foot. Ouch.
I think my experience was officially a form of molestation. And to think I read an article about molestation cases the next morning on the papers. Ha. I still cannot believe it happened.
):
Next afternoon. I got a long-distance call from you. I think the conflicting mix of emotions then lead to my uncontrollable minor breakdown. Omg.
Ah well. No more zouk.
Okay. I'm still feeling happy from today, today. Off to dinner! (:
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