Farewell My Muse!
Every blogger gets blogger’s block. Its not where we post too many pervy pictures and are labeled as ‘adult content sites’ but rather when we run out of things to blog about. There are only so many visits to the supermarket a person can over dramatize. Some turn to pictures, others do a meme. But when ever this happens I can always turn to KiKi , my graphic designer for inspiration.
From her Harajuku Girl style makeup & love of the great outdoors, to her super blur persona & fighting spirit, she is anything but plain. I actually regard her as a friend first, and a colleague second. And yes, it’s a good thing I’m gay or I’d be hitting on her.
We’ve had some spectacular moments in the office. She speaks little English and I speak little Chinese, a perfect recipe for laughs. But that never stops us from speaking our mind.
Kiki “Cold la, the office today”
AJ “Yala, who ask you to dress so sexy?”
Kiki “Me sexy? Then why you never button your top button…”
Both “Buaahahahahaa”
But she truly is a well in tuned soul. We both often joke about the ghost that always stands outside our room, just beyond the glass door & tries to rattle our nerves. Some strange things have happened in the office, and they only happen when either of us are alone. but we always laugh it off.
Then there is the museum worthy laser printer attached to my PC which she calls my son & the ever temperamental inkjet printer which is her daughter. Our children never want to eat from the tray and have to be hand fed paper!
If there was one person keeping me sane in the office, it is her. We work closely to get the job done, which often involves lying, stealing (off the internet) & misdirecting other people.
Come next Monday, she won’t be sitting at her place bitchinh about the work any longer. She won’t be there munching a full cucumber for tea (I kid you not) and she won’t be there to share a good bitch about the others in the office. She can’t even pester me to eat more vegetables (which I do nowadays).
She will be doing something closer to her interest & hopefully drawing a better salary. Hopefully they will have broadband at her new office because, damn I enjoyed her spam.
I’d love to say we’ll keep in touch and be the best of friends but I know that’s just wishful thinking. Maybe a dinner or two here or bumping into each other at the mall there, but it will never be the same. I will slowly blend in with the drab gray everything of our room & the ghost will have his way. I will no longer be able to enjoy the scent of fresh cucumber or the latest hits on the Chinese Top 40.
But hey, on the bright side, it could be well worth it, if they get me a hunky Ah Beng who smells citrussy & doesn’t wear underwear… or Asmadi
From her Harajuku Girl style makeup & love of the great outdoors, to her super blur persona & fighting spirit, she is anything but plain. I actually regard her as a friend first, and a colleague second. And yes, it’s a good thing I’m gay or I’d be hitting on her.
We’ve had some spectacular moments in the office. She speaks little English and I speak little Chinese, a perfect recipe for laughs. But that never stops us from speaking our mind.
Kiki “Cold la, the office today”
AJ “Yala, who ask you to dress so sexy?”
Kiki “Me sexy? Then why you never button your top button…”
Both “Buaahahahahaa”
But she truly is a well in tuned soul. We both often joke about the ghost that always stands outside our room, just beyond the glass door & tries to rattle our nerves. Some strange things have happened in the office, and they only happen when either of us are alone. but we always laugh it off.
Then there is the museum worthy laser printer attached to my PC which she calls my son & the ever temperamental inkjet printer which is her daughter. Our children never want to eat from the tray and have to be hand fed paper!
If there was one person keeping me sane in the office, it is her. We work closely to get the job done, which often involves lying, stealing (off the internet) & misdirecting other people.
Come next Monday, she won’t be sitting at her place bitchinh about the work any longer. She won’t be there munching a full cucumber for tea (I kid you not) and she won’t be there to share a good bitch about the others in the office. She can’t even pester me to eat more vegetables (which I do nowadays).
She will be doing something closer to her interest & hopefully drawing a better salary. Hopefully they will have broadband at her new office because, damn I enjoyed her spam.
I’d love to say we’ll keep in touch and be the best of friends but I know that’s just wishful thinking. Maybe a dinner or two here or bumping into each other at the mall there, but it will never be the same. I will slowly blend in with the drab gray everything of our room & the ghost will have his way. I will no longer be able to enjoy the scent of fresh cucumber or the latest hits on the Chinese Top 40.
But hey, on the bright side, it could be well worth it, if they get me a hunky Ah Beng who smells citrussy & doesn’t wear underwear… or Asmadi
And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I have made
And like a baby boy I never was a man
Until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand
And then I fell down yelling "Make it go away!"
Just make her smile come back and shine just like it used to be
And then she whispered "How can you do this to me?"
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I have made
And like a baby boy I never was a man
Until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand
And then I fell down yelling "Make it go away!"
Just make her smile come back and shine just like it used to be
And then she whispered "How can you do this to me?"
Blue October~ Hate Me
Labels: AJ at work, champagne supernovas
posted by AJ @ 10:30 PM
3 Comments:
Haha, she's dieting? Eating cucumber like a fruit.
nah, its just the way she eats 'em, like how I much on whole carrots whiles typing away in the office..
-____-111 Eh... your office is not a zoo is it? Got rabbit and cucumber eating creature.
hehe, just kidding.
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