Tuesday, June 26, 2007


Popo on the left, with her sister Tai Yi Po

We were at dinner tonight and were sitting round having a post-prandial chat when we heard a crash and saw my Popo tipping over backwards and falling to the floor. The frickin chair had broken under her.

Scariest. Moment. Ever.

Luckily she wasn't hurt but my heart literally stopped.

My darling friend Jess sent me one of those chain emails the other day. You had to answer a bunch of questions about yourself and forward the answers along to your entire inbox and cross your fingers no-one would get a digital restraining order against you.

Anyway, one of the questions was "what are you most afraid of?" I answered: Getting tortured by being poked in the eyeballs. Mediocrity. Losing my mind. Not being good enough. Not being able to realize my dreams.

But I take those answers back, my Numero Uno Fear of all time is losing a loved one for eternity, my Popo especially. It's beyond my control, and inevitable but....I can't even bear to think about it. It's like a dark, pulsating blob at the back of mind. I know it's there, but I dare not acknowledge its existence.

My stomach is churning even writing about it.

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