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I’ll be the first to admit that I am guilty as charged for being unabashedly plastered during Christine’s Potluck/BBQ on Saturday. But hey, it ain’t a crime to have fun. Period.

And I had a blast at no one’s expense. *wink*

True, while blabbering like a fucking moron and laughing like as if I have the bloody hysterics ain’t exactly demure or civilized, I had a whale of a time and God Knows I’ve been more uptight than a freaking nun lately. So hell yeah, I deserve that extra glass of Vodka and you bet my slightly-there-ass that my going totally outrageous is justified and warranted. Senseless is the word of the day.

I’m jaded. Seriously. Sometimes it makes you wonder how one’s supposed to cope in situations like this. I’m so drained trying to close the vein that someone keeps cutting open like a freaking happy camper. I’m dead beat and yes, I’m literally in the true sense of the word, bleeding love. And so at the end of the day, surviving is not an option, it becomes a miracle.

I’m not frozen..not yet at least.. Weary and jaded..but not totally frozen.

Someone says that he’d always be there. If that’s the case, then why do I feel as if the walls are closing in slowly on me. I feel suffocated and asphyxiated by liberation. If falling in love requires such deliberate effort, then God, I’d like to be discharged please.

Keeping up with my feelings is not something that I do alone. It’s a fucking fight, a war and a painful crusade headed by millions of girls. While we feel awfully numb at the end of the day, while we tell each other over and over again that this the end, we battle on regardless of the wounds that we’re inflicting on ourselves. Self-mutilating becomes a form of art that we’ve perfected over time.

So no, I’m not the result of an experiment orchestrated by God that had gone wrong. I’m just a girl, trying to keep up with this sneaky reality called Life. Life doesn’t taste like strawberry and chocolate. It taste terrible and if the path to hell is paved with good intentions, then just exactly what is Life all about?

And so with that, I hope that you’ll forgive me and allow me the freedom and candor of letting my hair down.

I’m an angel but I get the chance to sin sometimes. It’s not an unforgiveable offense to be dressed in white and get drunk on red wine.

You’re not the one who dare stand where I’ve stood, so you’re not to judge me.

I dare walk where angels dare to fly and honey, I’ve earned the title of a Party Angel by total merit. =)

My Victoria’s Secret shipment finally arrived on Friday.. Audra was the ‘Angel’ who delivered it to me with a flourish.

‘Thank you, Audra!’ I squealed in absolute delight.

She flashed me her Vogue smile (Girl’s got one of those really enchanting smile that just enthralls and beguiles) and said ‘I know that you’ve been waiting for this.’

Ah-huh.. That’s really an understatement of the year.. Let’s see.. I’ve bug-a-booed the poor receptionist, Maggie every other day. I’ve perpetually FIM Razi every single day making him check the pigeon hole (which he totally confused for GI Jane code language for pigeon’s ass). I’ve badgered and complained to Baobei and stopped only when I’ve infuriated her enough to see her aiming and throwing the stuffed koala to me over our cubicles.

Razi says I’m crazy…for going all out on my limb for a bra. I retorted.. It’s not just a bra.. It’s THE bloody bra.. In the transition days before the shipment arrived, he’d tell me that it would never arrive. Says because it’s THE BRA, the courier stole and gave it to his wife.. *eye rolling frenzy*

Well, it was perfect wasn’t it? Everybody’s allowed a tiny obsession and it ain’t my fault that I’m fascinated with labels and clothes or anything eye-candy.. It’s my mania, a Sharon-kinda-thing..

I absolutely adore the little black pouch that came with the bra..   uber-sexy!!.. who’d thought a tiny pouch can look so f*cking kinky?!

Blame my honey bunny Carrie for this..

She should’ve never let me in on this devilish little link.. www.victoriassecret.com. One click and I was perpetually hooked for life! Some people binge on food when shit happens.. I go on a shopping frenzy and yes..I’ve been told that it’s unhealthy and harmful.. but come on.. Indulgence is an obnoxious pricey habit that I simply cannot live without..

Like I said, everyone’s got their own little obsession.. Chee Kar Bee’s got a detrimental fixation with her priceless Coke Collection.. The Metrosexual Idiot at the office’s got an OCD that everyone’s gotta put up with.. Mariah Carey’s got an outrageous affair with butterflies and teeny weenie Harajuku skirts.. And Brangelina’s got this outlandish idea of populating the World over..

Mine’s just dirtier… So Handle It With Care..

xoxoxo

Shazza

http://www.angels-who-rock.blogspot.com/

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