I used to have to bathe Mr Dog come Sunday every week. Today, I got up and I missed having to bathe him. It's been 6 months but it almost felt longer. The Christmas that just passed, was also our first without him. There's nothing to look forward to coming home and having him wag his tail at us, and show us his teeth like he was actually smiling... I miss all that. Mum does too.
But on the brighter side of things, I'm looking forward to turning 36. Or am I? I'm not one to make new year resolutions, but I'll like to be styled different this year. No, no, I'm not talking about a make-over per se. I don't think I'll enjoy being made-over to look like 1001 other people. I'll like a change in the things I wear. Style doesn't come cheap (but maybe the company might sponsor a wardrobe) - hur hur hur. I can almost hear the lao ban laugh at loud.
OK, so twenty-eleven shall be the year where I actually start looking like I'm 30 (cos every other day I look like I'm 20).
Good luck, amigo.
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