Announcement (for those of you who give a damn...)

I would no longer be using my Globe number (09175777491) starting immediately. I would really appreciate it if you delete that number from your contacts list ASAP. I don't fancy having my mom receive earth shattering text messages from my friends. It'll be a few more days before she gets the SIM card but nonetheless please cease all communication with that number.

I can still be reached via IM (fastest way), all my known email addresses (except my bluebottle account, I'm no longer using that) and my Singapore StarHub number. I understand that this probably means it'll be more expensive to keep in touch and fully accept it if some of you stop texting all together.

Thanks for understanding.

XOXO - Joey

finally here and it still hasn't sunk in...

Just got my laptop fired up. Good thing my brother already has a wireless network set up at home so no wires to bother with. My flight touched down just a few minutes past eleven PM.

I'm still kinda groggy from serious sleep deprivation but I already have a little tour scheduled tomorrow. My brother will be bringing me to the market since I decided I'd cook for the people here tomorrow.

G'night for now...

xoxo JowEE

when your brain leaves your heart trailing...

I've done nothing but whine all day. It doesn't matter who I end up talking to, just as long as he/she has ears.

I've pretty much wrapped my brain around my departure tomorrow. Problem is, I feel nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing about it. It's like my brain is on overdrive while my heart is strangely absent. Is this what it feels like to be in Denial? If it is, I really don't understand why grieving people stay stuck in it for so long. I don't feel anything. It's like I'm stuck in a void where nothing matters but being logical about the move.

I know (as a matter of fact) that I'll probably be missing everyone over here. Then why am I not feeling sad? Does it come when I actually start to miss them? Does this mean I'll suddenly collapse in a torrent of tears when that time comes? I haven't shed a fucking tear thinking about what I'll be missing for at least twelve (well, that's if everything goes according to plan) whole months.

I just want to feel sad. I want my heart to aknowledge the fact that I'll be ripping out a part of my soul and I'll be leaving it behind with the people I love. I've even exposed myself to the saddest songs I have on iTunes yet...nada! Nothing! Kaputz! Richard Ashcroft would have gone sore ages ago if he were really beside me singing Bittersweet Symphony. What the fuck is wrong with me?!

Am I so fucking mature that I have taken all this with a grain of salt? What makes me leaving any different from any of my other problems I've overreacted to and with much gusto if I might add. I had my hair cut earlier. My mom even took time away from her day to sit me down and color my hair (the people in the salon can't get it right, I always react badly to their coloring) this afternoon. My dad - yes, the same miser that pinches the life out of pennies - just gave me cash to bring with me. Yes people! Cold hard cash! Even that didn't make a dent in my armor of insensitivity.

Don't get me started on why I need to cry, why I need to feel bad because I can't explain that either. I just know it's what normal people feel when they leave loved ones behind. And bitches please, don't even give me the "you're not really leaving them behind" and "their always in your heart" speeches. That's like telling me Santa Claus is real.

So yeah...my heart is probably somewhere out there looking for me. After my brain, purposely pulled it out of my chest and kicked it a thousand miles out. Or maybe I'll pull a stunt similar to what a friend of mine did. Act normal until I'm actually seated inside the plain and finally let loose with my emotions when all has sunk in. I really don't need that. I'd hate for the person who'd be stuck beside me for three solid hours to look at me like I'm a crazy person OR WORSE...try to fucking console me. That's a monumental bitch fight waiting to happen.