Mouldy

All around me are signs that age is catching up, even if I can afford to deny what I see in the mirror. Well okay, maybe I am not denying so much - I don't have as much hair as I used to have when I was 16 and of late, I can begin to see the vague outlines of crow's feet starting to form whenever I smile. Not good. People who die young, perhaps they are the lucky ones.

Physical aging aside, I managed to catch up on two schoolmates recently on Facebook. If they can have seven new wonders of the world, they should have seven new deadly sins and Facebook included as one of them for excessive but yet amusing waste of time. But I'm moving out of topic again, so back to the two schoolmates. I knew them back when I was in an experimental shithole of a school which ran on a single session. I was 16 then and they were about no more than 13? A bunch of bratty annoying kids - love them to bits. Fast forward 12 years later, I find them on Facebook and one is getting married... TO MY EX-CLASSMATE, while the other is practically a sarong party girl, dating a white guy in Singapore. My reaction? IMPOSSIBLE! Bratty girls simply do not grow up into attractive young women who marry your classmates and date white men. In my mind I still saw them as flat-chested, pinafore-wearing schoolgirls with horrible hair that would make drag queens scream. I felt like I stepped into the Twilight Zone... and it was about to get worse.

Few days ago, an ex-university classmate added me on Facebook as well. On her profile was the picture of a baby. At first I didn't pay much attention, and then I did a second take. Wait a minute, a baby? I clicked on the picture, and found out it had no description. A horrible truth began to dawn on me. I commented on the picture:

"OMG... is it yours?"

Few hours later, a reply came, "Yes. This fella is mine... huahahhaha...".

I didn't add the maniacal laughter, that was indeed her reply. My former flighty as a feather classmate had gotten married to my high school senior and with his help, produced a miniature version of herself. She is now a mother, while I, her cold logical friend who is of higher seniority is currently having commitment phobia and abandonment issues. God indeed has a very poor sense of humour. Despite looking way lot more attractive than I did 3 years ago, I am finding myself hard on reciprocating amorous attention. The irony of it was I could have easily returned such feelings 3 years ago. Now all I am capable of feeling is old, weary and wary.

I need to go practice dying glamorously naked on my bed now - whilst I still look pretty enough.