I usually dread Novembers. I remember spending most of November 2005 mourning my grandmother. It was a month of tears – crying for my grandmother, my problematic relationship, the shock of having my house burgled.

Then November 2006 was when I found out my bestest guy friend was about to make a really big mistake. One that would reverberate all through the year to come.

November 2007 brought drama, tears and running right back into the arms of God. Yeah, after all the hard work God’s put into trying to save my soul, I’d been adrift for years before I just sought His anchor again.

And this November was no different. I was sick (as I always am in November, I don’t know why), grappling with the Cough That Would Not Go Away, dealt with angst-ridden boyfriend who is now Man I Love But Am Not With Because He Needs To Sort His Fucking Life Out before he can really be with me. Then a horrific family emergency that had me flying home, simultaneously mending rifts with family and bestest guy friend.

I met someone. He makes me laugh. I’m hoping this one will always be a friend no matter what happens. Sometimes you need a little joy in your life and if it comes in the guise of a Really Bad Idea, well, hey. For a Bad Idea, he’s one heck of a good friend. Just for that, I’m more grateful than I’ll ever be able to say.

Am thankful that my family and friends have shown me how much love there is in my life. That I never have to go far for a hug. That the Big Guy up there makes a point to remind me that the rain does stop, the clouds do pass and when I least expect it, there’ll always be someone around the corner with an umbrella.

I love everybody.

…so from the ashes maybe there’ll be born a better place, safe for you, baby girl.

Ah, Singapore. How doth thou hath becometh increasingly pretty for Christmas. The shopping malls – they celebrate the decadence of the coming festive Eating of the Wallets, I mean, Christmas.

Was supposed to play tour guide, but, well, plans turn awry. Admired the lovely new nightspots, shiny new malls, picturesque waterfront.

Singapore food still sucks. Can’t stand cigarette smoke? Move to Singapore where you can’t even smoke inside a pub.

And I feel like hell. Kthksbai.

As it’s wont to do, November brings drama and heartache and illness.

Still with the boyfriend. His fault I’m ill though. Crying myself hoarse for two nights ended up with me losing my voice and amusing the downstairs eatery proprietor with my very loud whispers. Seems throat was very vulnerable after last week’s respiratory infection so I caught myself a mild case of the flu.

Cat is befuddled at my hacking and retching-like coughs. He probably wonders if I’m having a hairball issue.

Boyfriend was slightly amused at my losing my voice. “Singing too much?” Ha bloody ha. But rest assured he is suitably penitent and keeps asking if I am OK/have not bought weed killer/conspired with my cells to contract lymphoma.

Unlike most of the guys I’ve dated, I couldn’t possibly hurt him by calling him names or accusing him of mental/emotional/physical inadequacies. He hurts when I hurt and was more concerned that I was a trembling, emotional wreck than anything else I might have said and done during said process of emotional wreckedness. He is sweet, he does try, and our situation is trying but we’re doing our best.

So I’m staying in tomorrow because I’m tired, ill and the dust bunnies are plotting to suffocate me in the night. I’m sure of it.

In other news, I’m glad that I’m not a famous enough blogger to have people taking public potshots at me and join in hordes to speculate about my private life. The current activity in the blogosphere reminds me of a frenzy of sharks smelling blood, or flies around dung. What’s making me ill isn’t really the bloggers involved but the mean commenters who are having such fun viciously tearing people apart. Turns my blood cold.

So if you’re having a pity party because you’re not famous enough to get invited to parties, get advertorial requests or have people give you free stuff, don’t be envious. With all that come the hanger-ons, yes-men, backstabbers, parasites, gossipmongers and all sorts of shit that nobody really wants to deal with.

I think I’ll go count my blessings, drink my cough syrup and shut up now.

I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth.

I believe that we still have cause to hope for a better country, that good can still find a place in this world, that we can make the world better.

I don’t believe that I will ever meet a man who won’t lie to me or cheat on me.

I don’t believe I’ll ever get married.

I don’t believe in true love, and if it does exist, maybe it just doesn’t exist for me.

I don’t believe that I’ll be miserable single. Better than being in a relationship that’s not working or where you hurt more than you’re happy.

I believe I’ll get over this in time, that I’ll stop crying eventually.

I believe that no matter how shitty life gets at times, and even when it’s never easy, that God still loves me.

I believe I’ll be OK.