Trading vices

I cannot believe that a commentator of my blog has likened my liver to a FATTENED BLACK PIG LIVER soaked in various types of alcohol of which can be sold as atas French food. (When I get my hands on HK Pig, I'm so gonna FLATTEN her liver - grrr!)

The worst part is, I can't really refute that comment since alcohol is the quidity of Frou. I admit it but I am pleased to announce that I am so over it (for now) because last Friday, I finally got it out of my system. Maro calls it "binge drinking" but I call it "purging-a-bad-habit-by-way-of-consuming-inordinate-amounts-of it-so-much-so-that-you-are-so-sick-to-your-stomach-and-never-want-to-touch-it-again."

SMS from Dailytoe on Saturday noon: Are you okay? Aren't we climbing? I'm waiting for your call. Why haven't you called? Where are you?
Frou: Err... let me get back to you. I need to figure out where I am and why W is on the floor.

Was the purging painful? Not really. Did I have fun purging? Rather. Was I injured during the process? Slightly (but bruises heal). Most importantly, did the purging work? Hell yeah! I have not drank since Saturday. Woot!

But we all know that the universe abhor vacuum, right? In this context, purging out one vice means I will be adopting another one soon to fill out the vacuum of goodness in me. Again I like to quote Abraham Lincoln who said folks without vices, have very few virtues.

Many of you will disagree that having vices is virtuous but truth of the matter is, I am scared of seemingly decent people who appear to live their lives the super orthodox way. You know, have a stable job, stable family life, don't drink or smoke, no sex or drugs, play badminton for fun and spend weekends in Sentosa with the kids. Somewhere lurking inside all that decentness must be a want for something indecent. When I say indecent, I don't mean big shaking illegal and sinister acts like rape or murder. I'm talking about simple pleasures in life that are not good for you, your loved one or your pockets like *ahem* drinking, spurge shopping or obsession with massages with happy endings and so on. In short, we all need a outlet to satisfy our unhealthy cravings in life.

I have decided that my new vice is....
- NOT food (I don't care what I eat.)
- NOT drugs (I am a control freak.)
- NOT exercising to an obsession (I don't have that kind of dedication.)
- NOT men (*yawn*)
- NOT women (I can't deal with raging hormones)
- NOT updating my Facebook status every 5 minutes and forcing my friends to read mundane stuffs about me so that I can validate my existence (hahhahahhaah!)

While in search of a new vice, I was kind of withdrawn for a while. When I get in this mood, I like to crawl under my duvet and stay there. Calls were unanswered. Messages are curt. Feeding myself and taking showers becomes a chore. I wrote in my diary that my life is (I quote) "an abyss of hopelessness."

My self inflicted drama got cut short when my best friend, The Queen, rang me up yesterday to give me a piece of her mind. (She only manage to get me on the phone because she called my office.) She asked me whether I have booked my flights to see her. (I haven't.) She told me she is meeting the Iranian President asked whether I know about the upcoming controversial UN meeting on racism. (I don't know.) She gave me a few trick questions to test whether I was listening to her. (I failed.) She then lectured me on what a terrible best friend and bride slave I am because I have not been answering calls or being proactive about the forthcoming wedding. (Guilty as charged!) She finally made me promise that I have to get out of my self-pity and start acting like a human being again because things are going on around the world and I have to ANSWER MY PHONE otherwise she will drop me like hot potatoes.

My Queen, I promise to staple the phone to my ears. Sober. Sob.