RMcD btw, is this guy who's been erm, contacting me for about 6 months now, despite hints the size of elephants being thrown at him. His most recent SMSing rampage ended with "are you still here?" which I didn't reply.
Bitchy, yes. Mean, definitely. Do I feel bad? no. well, except that I'm avoiding him. Which means I do, in a roundabout kinda way.
Well, look. He has 2 (count that with your fingers- TWO!) Masters Degrees and a Bachelor's from some of the best unis in the world, a high school pedigree even snobs would find hard to shake a stick at, yet can't get his act together in terms of job OR movie venue hunting. And unless you intend to live in theory, you're not gonna get anywhere (or have a life in real life)
SO. anyway. I. Do. Feel. Bad.
which is why I'm avoiding him like the plague. I think I saw him once, and was actually walking in the middle of the road already, towards the tram stop, saw him, and crossed back and walked to the superstop 10-15 minutes away.
Neurotic? Yes. If you could pick up that scene and stick it into a movie, it'd make for great laughs.
I thought I saw him again today, but it turned out to be a false alarm.
But I sat there trying to make up stupid excuses just in case he, I don't know....suddenly appeared from nowhere (like unwanted people often do, and in your face too) while I was lost in thought thinking about excuses on what to to say when I saw him?
Anyway, it seems I look REALLY different in contacts. One of my colleagues was so afraid it was my sister he'd seen at the train station that I had to go up to him first.
So I decided, I shall be my evil sister in contacts.
I contemplated using the name I usually give guys when I don't want them to know my real name, and finally decided on an 'R' name instead....
You know, in keeping with all these siblings named Patrick and Paul; Hans, Henderson, Henry and Hannah, Zhiming and Zhiqiang (these are real families I'm naming) blah blah blah....
Rachel? nah. my parents wanted to name me that. And one of my best friends has that name.
Rowena? Knew a girl with that name. Nope.
Regine? er, no.
I then I smirked. Raine.
Raine. To confound the ah bengs (and somehow make myself mysteriously sexier because I'm just so kantang), and then I could prissily tell them I was "Raine, short for Rhiannon" not "Rain" the weather element that could pass for the new hippie fad (or a Hong Kong native).
Besides, Rhiannon and I sounded like we could come from the same parents.
Rhiannon would be prissy, bitchy, possibly like pink ( I was wearing a disturbing amount of pink today), a total spoilt princess. She would also be helpless, vapid, petulant, vain, self-absorbed, have a penchant for OTT and very very blonde.
I was so amused for awhile, imagining my evil twin.
"And some days, Rhiannon comes to school instead of me"
and I realised, that in many ways, even the "real" us is blatantly fake anyway. And deep inside we know that to an extent, we are all fakes of ourselves.
Poor imitations of what we really are, watered down by ourselves.
We're all our evil twins.
Hey everybody. My name's Rhiannon. What's yours?
