So I discovered recently that some people were under the impression that my surname was Doen. Mel even thought I was part Korean. I'm not arguing with that - it's nice to be exotic, no? Apparently the confusion came about due to the way I write out my name as Doen Xian Ong, instead of Ong Doen Xian. Sorry for not having a first name like Sarah or Jane ok! There's no room in Facebook for Chinese names so it just has to come out in the typical Western 'First Name, Surname' fashion instead of what is actually printed on my IC.
Btw summer is finally here! To celebrate the luvleh weather, a bunch of us went to Hyde Park on Saturday for a picnic. There were hordes of people sunning themselves on the grass, and there were soooooo many cute doggies running around. I saw...
Westies
Staffies 
Mini Schnauzers 
GSDs
French bulldogs
Weimaraners
101 Dalmatians minus 100 
Two very gorgeous and elegant English setters 
and a Chesapeake Bay Retriever
Very fun lah! My mind was flipping non-stop through the pages of the Dog Book my parents gave me for my 6th birthday. In KL, all you see are GSDs, Labs, Golden Retrievers, Shih Tzus, Rotties & Dobermans, and Jap Spitzs. Yawn. Once, I saw this heeeeyuuugeeeee black dog outside Waitrose. It was as tall as a Great Dane, but 10 times as hairy. So pretty! I was tempted to hitch a ride on its back.
Anyway, JM, M&S and I got to the park early so we decided to take pictures while waiting for the others. A couple of snaps here and there on the picnic mat, then we decided to take some jumping shots. So up up and away we went.
Whee!
Whaa!
Wahoo!
Yeehaw!Suddenly the thought of doing a flying leap like a prima ballerina sprung to mind. It's been eons since my ballet heydays and I wasn't very flexible to begin with, so here's my attempt at faking it, ANTM-style.
Aiyo, Tyra Banks would be disappointedAs soon as I landed on the ground I felt a sharp pull in the muscles just below my left butt cheek. As you can see from the picture below, it was quite funny at first considering how ambitious and enthusiastic I was earlier.
Not long after this picture was taken, the pain started to sink in. The cramp was so bad that I couldn't move. I was desperately trying to relax and take deep breaths to soothe myself. For a moment I thought one of the girls would have to call an ambulance. The paramedics would come rushing into the park with a stretcher. The masses who were lazing about, eating their ice-creams and having a laugh would stare at me. They'd point at me and murmur among themselves. "You see, son," a parent would say to her child, "that's what happens to naughty hyperactive boys!" And I would be crying and lolling about in the stretcher as the paramedics hoisted me back to the ambulance. Well thank God there was no need for an ambulance because 10 minutes later I could move again. I ran and jumped about like normal for the rest of the day.
BUT THE NEXT DAY WAS HORRIBLE.
I couldn't walk properly; my movements were slow and jerky. Sitting on the loo bowl was painful and very uncomfortable. Because my legs were sore from my thighs all the way down to my knees, going up and down stairs was extremely difficult. I stayed indoors for most of the day except for when I had to go to church. "I guess this is what it's like to be old," I said to Eugene.
Well, I'm fine now and my butt no longer hurts. If there's a lesson to be learned from this, it's that I must really start keeping track of my age. Seriously, whenever people ask me how old I am I blank out for abit, then I'll calculate my age in my head and tell them. I always think I'm 21, but the reality is that I'm no spring chicken anymore. Sigh. It'll soon be time to put my adult hat on and say hello to the working world.
Will there ever be days as blissful and carefree as this when I'm 30?
