Thursday Morning

It is strange how technology facilitates social bonding and communication, overcoming geographical barriers on one hand, but yet on the other, impels people to retreat into their own private spaces, reclused and unacknowledging of the others within the vicinity.

Anyway, being a victim of the latter, I was comfortably plugged in my world of music and reading my papers in the bask of warm sunshine at the bus stop, oblivious to my fellow passengers. Suddenly, I felt someone tapping my shoulders. I looked up and saw a bent old man with pepper-gray hair, his eyes were smiling kindly at me.

Me: Yes?
Old man: The bus is coming.
Me: Oh, oh.
Old man: I'm afraid you can't hear it coming, with your music.
Me: Oh yeah. Thanks.

Why the old man would think I might be able to miss the entire 10-feet bus rumbling to the bus stop is beyond me. I did observe a pair of hearing aids framing his wrinkled ears and perhaps, that was a genuine fear he faces everyday - not being able to hear the bus. Still, I am thankful that someone care enough to extend beyond my hermitic technology of music to express is concern.

读华文

Obviously not learning from my previous trauma whereby I tried to display my chinese sms-ing skills but was instead stuck with a very alien-looking menu, I stupidly attempted to sms in chinese again last night.

After sending the text message which comprised of a grand total of ONE chinese character, I realized I did not know how to switch my bloody handphone back to the familiar english mode. So there was I, the hugest idiot in the world, half-asleep in my semi-blindness, struggling to comprehend all the chinese characters I have already forgotten. Fortunately, I recognized the image depicting the "Settings" mode and had to randomly scroll through all the selections till I saw the word "English". That took 15 minutes off my beloved bedtime. GRR.

Anyway, I additionally realized Chinese is quite a cultured language. My friend and I were brainstorming for the worst possible Chinese cuss words to hurl and we came up with nought. I mean we have the F-word for English. What about chinese cuss words? Initially, I thought of very mediocre ones:

"你老妈!"
"他妈的!"

I conclude Chinese prefer insulting mothers for some reason. Probably mums are closer to the heart, and therefore, the insult cuts deeper.

"王八蛋!"
"臭鸡蛋"
"滚蛋"

Ah, an indication of aversion towards eggs, no? Could be due to avian flu.

Anyway, my neighbor was free enough sufficiently to actually google-d a whole list of Chinese cuss words. Among one of the first suggested cuss words is:

"我希望你慢慢死，但快点下地狱。"

What the fish is this? A cuss word should be short and sweet, so it can be spat out effectively in anger. By the time you finished cussing the above, I think the initial target of your anger would have already left the scene lah. Ridiculous.

My Unsavory Curry Puffs

I have been going on a curry puff hunt these few days. I tried a variety of curry puffs since last week. There are those going for 80cents, those going 50 cents and voila! Today I found one at the Science Canteen Drinks Stall going for 45 cents.

Alas, my curry puff tasted horrible. So right now, I am just nibbling on the pastry crusts, avoiding those darned-tasting potatoes like a plague, feeling a tad miserable.

I need to go and hunt down my brother's birthday present, but I hear plenty of thunder. I peered out of the windows and was greeted by unwelcoming black skies. Sigh.

Stupid curry puff. Stupid thundery weather.

Bah.

What's the Model Answer?

On Saturday, a guy pal I haven't see for the longest time called and asked me along to the gym. Since I had an appointment already, I told him we should go on Sunday instead. Ever since he has gotten a new job and a new girlfriend, it was really hard grasping hold of him so I looked forward to catching up with him.

Alas, on that fateful day, he texted me to apologize and call the gym session off because he had to placate his girl. The last time we met for gym, he was so worried that his girl (who was coming to meet him) might see us together that he packed his food for takeaway when I thought the three of us could just sit down and have a good meal.

Anyway, this time, the girl was mad because he had obviously bungled on his answer to the most puzzling question on earth - "Do I Look Fat?"

It was very amusing reading his sms anecdote. Apparently, the girl asked him if her thighs were fat and he stupidly agreed subtlely, continuing to make matters worse by saying she could be gaining weight because of her diet.

On another occasion, they went for supper and he, again, stupidly suggested she should just get a burger while he ordered an entire meal. Although the action seemed innocuous enough, the girl must have mistaken it as a hidden agenda and an insinuation that she is fat.

So, according to my humorous friend, there was lightnings and thunder abound, and till then, there was no clear weather and he would have to go and pacify her.

Is there a correct answer to that, he queried.

Personally, for people I am closer with (and I would think a boyfriend is one of the closest), I would appreciate honesty and frankness. But of course, I am sure the honesty needn't be that brutal. He could always cushion it in certain ways like...

"Dear, you look fine the way you are. But if you want to look better .... "

You know, it is just part of the packaging.

Anyway, my poor friend got quite flustered and decided he should just shut the fuck up the next time he encounters such hazardous situation once more.

Weekly Walks

Every Sunday afternoon is a time I designate for Mister Toto and his excursion. Most of the time, I will drive Lina and Toto to the isolated Kent Ridge Park for a mad run-about.

Family Day

My brother has won some kind of reward for winning an architecture competition and nicely decided to treat us all to a good meal. We brainstormed the whole Saturday afternoon for a quaint place to please everybody's palates before finally deciding to drive all the way to explore the east.

First, we started at The Stone Grill. Basically, your food is cooked on a slab of hot stone. That's all.

We ordered up quite a feast - Portobello Mushrooms, Ocean's Feast, Carnivore's Feast, Seafood Platter and Prime Cuts.



The food arrived quickly and I was quite flustered trying to prevent my meats from being over-cooked. There were bits of oil sputtering and I had to whip the nearest napkin as a shield. The dinner was supremely short-lived because all of us were concentrating in cooking our foods instead of leisurely waiting to be served. As such, this is NOT the place to go if you are bringing a date and hoping to have a good chat.

After dinner, we took a stroll along East Coast Road where there are plenty to eat - Hakka Yong Tau Fu, Pernankan food aplenty, Laksa and all. Woah, it was nice to stroll in the cool of the night, wowing ourselves with the display of foods. Mmm. I like.

We finally decided to go for dessert at the Hong Kong Cafe at the other end of East Coast Road. Alas, the place was full house and simply brimming with people, thus we subsequently left for Tong Shui at Zion Road instead.

With its bright pink and green walls, the place is hard to miss. We ordered 2 hot desserts, 1 Red Bean Snowy mountain thingy, Mango Pudding thingy and the hugest thickest honeyed buttered Toast.

BOY, AM I ANNOYED!

I AM ANGRY. BOILING MAD! GRR. I need to stab something.

The Friday started innocuously enough, although my friend called to cancel her 11 am appointment when I have already bought her lunch. So I drove to deliver the extra lunch to Sandy instead, heading to Suntec City with my mum to run her errands before collecting my tickets for my pending U.S. trip.

At Suntec City, I was unfortunately met with the sign that warned "Sorry! Carpark is Full!" Where do ALL THESE FREAKING CARS come from? My mum instructed me to drop her off at Carrefour before circling round to find an elusive parking lot. Since I have my Stan Getz and Lisa Ono playing, I was cool. I transversed the entire carpark to and fro until I spotted a car pulling out. I signalled and considerately moved more to the front so that the vehicle behind me can proceed.

SO MUCH FOR CONSIDERATION! Instead of proceeding, the stupid vehicle behind me decided it wanted the lot too. In fact, he blocked my entire lot, preventing me from reversing into it. As other cars overtook both of us, he just halted his car at the blocking position as I turned back and signalled to him questioningly. He did nothing but offered blank stares for like 5 minutes. BLOODY HELL, I ABHOR UNCLE AH-BENGS! May the Coffeeshop always run out of Tiger Beer each time you ask for it, stupid conniving uncle! ARGH!

After errands and stuff, a very hungry me had to rush my mum to her next destination as well as for my appointment with my student. In midst of it all, a joker student sms-ed,"YOU NOT AT YOUR OFFICE AH?"

Now, this is the same student whom I have instructed for the past 12323435439085 times to MAKE AN APPOINTMENT with me each time he wants to come to my office. But does he listen? No. I tell him nicely each time - Make an appointment. No. These words are GREEK TO HIM. Making an appointment is just sms-ing or sending a freaking email. How hard can it be? He just pops by as and when he likes, and then feels puzzled when I am not around.

So, finally arriving at my office at 3pm, I noted one of my office table has been occupied with an extra laptop and strewn with papers. Alarmed, I took a second look and realized the joker has just plonked his stuff comfortably at my desk and looked like he has been working at my desk for some time. INVASION OF PRIVATE SPACE. Unwarranted. Boy, am I annoyed.

I attended to the first girl student (who made an appointment) the best I could. After she left, I became very terse with my replies with joker student. He was not helping himself by asking the silliest questions ever. Anyway, I lost my temper someway mid-discussion and I think he was seriously freaked out because he mumbled.

Oh the next time, I will be sure to sms you for an appointment all right?

See? Niceness is no use. People take you for granted when you are nice.

Just like my uncle who called my handphone an hour ago to lament the demise of his 10 year CPU. My relatives used to like to ask my ex for help in any matters regarding computers. Now, our break-up caused a minor commotion in my extended family because their 24/7 computer technician is officially unavailable.

Anyway, I offered the best solution I can to my uncle.

Me: Mmm. I can help you ask around if I know anybody.
Uncle: Huh... can confirm find one a not?
Me: I don't know. I can ask around and see if any of my friends know.
Uncle: Huh... (He seems to want some sort of confirmation.)
Me: Otherwise, you can just bring to one of the shops at Sim Lim.
Uncle: Sim Lim?! Don't want lah
Me: Why not? They have little shops that help restores your PC.
Uncle: Aiyar, own people do better you know.
Me: I can help you ask around, but if there isn't anybody, you just have to bring it to a shop?
Uncle: No la, it's better for you to find a friend who can fix it.
Me: ............

FUCK! So I am supposed to pull someone out of thin air to fix your bloody computer. It is SUCH A CHORE. I will probably be suffering complaints if the job wasn't done well, or enduring the guilt in subjecting any poor friends through it.

What a SHITTY FRIDAY.

V is sexy

As I grew out of my pubescent epoch, I discovered looks is no longer an extremely crucial criteria in my partner. I can be out with an good-looker but be as bored as hell indulging in mono-syllabic conversations? Once, I dated a tall, tanned and rather good-looking (at least to me) guy whom I had a minor crush on, only to have him monopolized the whole conversation talking about wushu and, I kid you NOT, how he is going to freaking inherit a jade sword from his shifu. I felt like I was living in the age of Tang Dynasty, punished by an ego-centric swordsman rattling about nothing but himself.

Consequently, I would enjoy company of people who may not be the best lookers even though very cynical, sardonic and superficial friends would exclaim "Wah lao, so ugly." or make snide remarks on the sly. Humans, especially guys, are naturally superficial. But cliche as it sounds, beauty is only skin-deep. I have also a few girl friends who would particularly sniff for a partner with muscular bod, chiselled looks and whatsnot. Despite my constant reminders, beauty remains a constant fixation in their searches.

Then came along the movie - V for Vendetta - that articulates my sentiments exactly.



V is precisely what I'm talking about. You can't see his freaking face and you must admit his mask isn't the most appealing appearance. But yet, his thinking, his mannerisms, his gentlemanly actions, his beliefs, his confidence, oh and his voice! Gee. Now, that's sexy.

Give me that over a muscular-goodlooking-no-brainer anyday.

Who's up for some Hair-Tearing?

Oh, make that time-wasting as well.

Please go to the wicked to get the urge to kick yourself, tear your hair and throw yourself out of the window.

Afternoon Entertainment - Chope!

Any form of IM is a good form of sleepy after-lunch entertainment.

I felt my eyes drowsily closing when my neighbor decided to grouch.

อยู่คนเดียว says:
i tell u
อยู่คนเดียว says:
just now during lunch we chope table with tissue
อยู่คนเดียว says:
this grp of indian fuckwits sat at our table
อยู่คนเดียว says:
and used OUR tissue!

lost duckie says:
HAHAHA
อยู่คนเดียว says:
bet they just got off the boat from madras or wat
lost duckie says:
why u chop table with tissue?
อยู่คนเดียว says:
duno singapore system
อยู่คนเดียว says:
ya what

lost duckie says:
u are one of those people who chop table with tissue!
อยู่คนเดียว says:
eh
อยู่คนเดียว says:
CBD leh
อยู่คนเดียว says:
must do that

lost duckie says:
very funny
lost duckie says:
hahaha
lost duckie says:
i am always amused

I imagine foreigners, Martians and other aliens to be as befuddled as me when encountering packets of tissue or bottled water on the tables. How am I supposed to know if they are purely litter instead of them functioning as a signal of chope-ing!? Afterall, in Thailand, the food courts do provide napkins at the tables for use. I bet those Indians must be thinking how wonderful the Singaporean Hawker Centers are, providing tissue and all at the tables.

Parenting

I read The Straits Times' forum with mild amusement as yet another parent beseech schools to impose less torturous conditions on her precious child. This time, the parent lamented how her son has to endured the mercilessly hot, hot sun rays while playing basketball for his extra-curricular activity. She ranted about how ultra-violet rays are going to ruin his health, adding that her son has turned from a shade of light brown to dark chocolate. The HORRORS!

Previously, a parent has indignantly insisted in the same forum that there is no need for school to start at the ungodly hour of 730am. Such early hour puts a chore in waking the poor child up from his slumber and pains the parent deeply.

Mmm, I wonder how the poor boy is going to survive his National Service. Ultra-violet rays and all. These parents should put their children into bubble-packs, store them in the kitchen cabinet, safe from all harm and live happily ever after. Then what will happen to my morning entertainment?

Now, I admit I am never a morning person. If you should ever try to stir me up from my slumber any time before 8 am, you would be met with nothing but sheer resolution on my part to stay in dreamland. I would probably pile 2 pillows and a huge thick comforter over my face and nothing, NOTHING, you can do to wake me up (unless you resort to my two pesky cousins). Therefore, the only time I remembered waking up at the ungodly hour of 6 at the crack of dawn is during my school years - from my primary school till junior college.

Sure as hell, it was a chore getting up. But after a while, the pain of the chore wears off. If you care to look or feel a little harder, the air is the most refreshing and coolest at that time. You can glance in the pinkish blue hues in the skies without squinting. You get to see glistening dew drops and greet the guy who send you the papers. How many of you people actually wake up early enough to see the face of the guy who send you the papers? (For me, I had the opportunity to say hello because I actually stayed up that late instead of waking up that early, ha.)

As for the merciless sun rays, I remembered training for my netball in the hot afternoons, doing sprints, running 2.4 in the scorching 3 P.M. sun. I did that 2 years in Primary school, all 4 years in Secondary school and 2 years more in Junior Collge. That makes a grand total of 8 years in excessive ultra-violet rays. And horrors of horrors, I am still a shade of dark chocolate brown now, although I assure you I slap on some sunblock reluctantly before going into the sun. Must have been the aftermath of the traumatizing 8 years.

Anyway, the point I am trying to make here is - I think parents should stop over-protecting their children. Everything should be in moderation. If they weren't exposed to pain, will they know pleasure? Let them fall, and let them recover themselves. Let them discover, let them experience.

Oh well, but what do I know?

The aftereffects of waking up at ungodly 6 am and staying in the scorching 3 pm sun might come haunt me in the later years. But hey, I did enjoy the morning moments which I do not think I will do so again, until maybe when I am 60 and doing tai chi in the morning. And each time as I am doing my running rounds, I used this "Well, if I could run at the untolerable conditions at 3 pm a decade ago, this should be easy" mantra to motivate myself.

There is always a silver lining in the cloud. You just have to look for it. Stop whining.

Marching By

Gasp. Looky, it is March 21st already.

I wish March would pass slower.

Ah, the novelty of my new toy hasn't worn off yet, unfortunately. All day, I have been sniffing around for potential candidates who are patient sufficiently to endure my camera-tweaking. Sadly, most of these candidates are either inanimate (because they cannot protest mah), or unable to protest much like Mister Toto who throws me a victimized look (Not that stupid silver gadget which emits red-light-that-hurts-my-eyes again?!) each time I whipped up Mister Ixus.

Oh, even Lina, my domestic helper wasn't spared. However, I think she kinda enjoyed having her photos taken. As she was walking Mister Toto to wait with me for my accursed bus, I asked her to pose for some eye-candies.

Me: Smile leh, Lina.

She broke into a smile, but it didn't look happy enough.

Me: Lina, you're not smiling lah
Lina: I am! I am! (Muttered through her clenched smile)
Me: No you're not.

She started giggling. So I snapped away.

Meet My New Toy

Yesterday, my parents came back from their weekend cruise (which is really for the casino) to my interrogation.

Me: Win or lose? Win or lose?
Mum: Eh... Papa lost $1K

Now, I'm the sort who makes a big hoo-haa on learning any losses because I am extremely risk-averse and therefore seldom indulge in any sorts of gambles. I am always using logic and rationality to explicate why my mum shouldn't go near the slots machines, but they seldom work. On the other hand, if they have won, I would slink away quietly without my usual nagging.

Me: $1000?!!!!
Mum: Hee hee.
Me: $1000?!!!!!
Mum: Aiyarrr.....
Me: DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I CAN BUY WITH $1K!!?
Mum: 2 weeks ago win money you also never complain....
Me: I CAN BUY DIGITAL CAMERA LOR!
Mum: Go ahead and buy lah. Who's stopping you?
Me: Your $1K I can buy 2 DIGITAL CAMERAS okay.
Mum: Go lor. Buy TWO lor. Nobody's stopping you!

So FINE. NOBODY IS STOPPING ME THIS TIME. With my friend's kangtao (which turned out to be a non-kangtao, btw), I set out to Sim Lim Square, the land of gizmos and geeks. With my easy-to-cheat face, I would be just another potential carrothead for those conniving salesmen sniggering at my ignorance. However, my friend said he knew a friend's friend (You know, you should always eye such friend's friend's connection with suspicion) working in a reputed store.

The friend's friend began to exchange a load of customary bullshitting with him as I remained fixated at my choices. I was deciding between Fuji's F11 and Z2, Canon Ixus 60 and Panasonic Lumix Fx9. The Canon one felt strangely agreeable. F11 was a tad bulky and Z2 had a sleek surface that scream "SCRATCH ME!". Panasonic is cool, except I have a problem with the brand not being a pioneer camera brand.

After sauntering around, I decided to impulsively make a purchase.

Meet my new toy - Mister Digital Ixus 60.



Unsurprisingly, I spent the whole night thereafter tweaking with the camera functions. The night mode sucks lah. I stuck my head out of my 2nd-storey room to take some night view, inccuring much raised eyebrows among passers-by below who probably thought I was some peeping-tom. The pictures turned out really dark. Bah! Nevertheless. Some virgin attempts on the brand-new toy.

Guess What!

I've bought my digital camera.

Sigh.

I shall survive on weeds for the coming weeks.

Friday Friday Friday!

The professor I occasionally lunched with is featured on the Straits Times' Insight section, being labelled as a NMP possibly living in his own ivory tower. Hmm, but I am positively certain that I lamented to him about ERP gantries and the university's extravagant spending over lunch. In fact, each lunch meeting feels like I have a personal MP to complain to. With all these input, I don't think he is living on the ivory tower. Unless, of course I am living on it too. But wait a minute, I additionally convey the stuff my dad and his colleagues grouch about. So yeah, that means you have to put the load of them on the ivory tower too! Cool.

Anyway, there are always amusing things to read or hear on the news, don't you think? Just this other day, I was amazed to read about this guy who was fined for "excessive usage of the reverse gear". Apparently, this joker drove an entire 40-km stretch on a highway, employing his REVERSE GEAR because "That is the ONLY GEAR that would work!".

And this morning, while fetching my mum from marketing, I heard from the radio that a certain scientest discovered a FROG that can SING. So, I imagine a few years down the road, instead of ah peks carrying cages of well-pruned birds to singing competition, we will be seeing plenty of well-scrubbed amphibians. And you think that discovery has no dire consequences?? You are wrong, my friend. That will devastate the language world and completely change the meaning of "Frog in the Throat" or "You sing like a Frog man!" Next time someone throws you that insult, respond with this titbit and thank him for the compliment.

Right. I shall end the Friday post with yet, another amusing conversation with my deluded health-freak father. As I was hungrily gobbling up my dinner last night, my father sat beside me and watch.

I took a sip of my lemon tea.
Dad: Don't drink so much lemon tea.
Me: Orh.

I stabbed at a chicken thigh.
Dad: Don't eat the chicken skin.
Me: Orh.

I dipped my fish in a small dish of chili and soy sauce.
Dad: Don't dip so much soy sauce.
Me: Orh.

As I finished my dinner and brought my dishes in, I caught my Dad scooping chunks of Simply Chocolate icecream from The Daily Scoop.

Me: *SHRIEK* WHY ARE YOU EATING ICECREAM!
Dad: ....
Me: YOU ASK ME NOT TO EAT THIS AND THAT AND YOU ARE EATING ICECREAM!
Dad: You are a girl ma...
Me: So?
Dad: I am a MAN.
Me: So?
Dad: I have no tummy.

And he whacked his protruding pop belly as if to resonate the sound of irony. My mum chuckled and said,"Your papa is deluded lah".

As a matter of fact, I think alot of men are leh.

I'm So Not Ready for Kids

Last evening, I went home looking forward for some time alone with myself. I knew my mum would be helping my aunt babysit my cousins during the initiation of the new maid (since the last maid was fired for being a lesbian.) All I need is my bed, a book and a stack of research papers, music and my trusty doggy to cuddle.

To my great despair, I was greeted by my two hyperactive cousins because my smart-aleck mum decided to bring them home during the school holidays. Whoopie! My hopes of any time-alone vanished in a quick puff of smoke as my cousins shrieked in unison at my entrance. If any of you were my previous readers at tabulas, you would realize what a pain in the ass those two can be. I mean, yes, they can be so adorable. But imagine being flummoxed by 234987123987432 "WHY?" questions. I swore it was so annoying I almost wanted to crawl out of my 2nd-storey window and escape.

So. It all started with them mucking around with technology in the study room. Esther, the elder sister, obviously hawked the most efficient laptop while younger Rachel is bullied into sufficing with a rickety desktop. As I was playing the piano down to calm my nerves, Rachel shrieked "JIEJIE!!! CAN YOU PLEASE COME OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Taking a deep breath..

Me: Yes, Rachel.
Rachel: This computer cannot play my game.
Me: Let me see. Ah, Java Applet is not installed.
Rachel: What is java applet?
Me: Its the baby of an Apple.
Rachel: *Shriek!* Baby!!
Me: Yah, apples have babies and they are called applets.
Rachel: *Shriek!* No!! You're lying!!
Me: Yes, I am. You're so clever.
Rachel: Why you never install?
Me: Computer lousy mah
Rachel: Why lousy?
Me: No money buy new one mah
Rachel: Why no money?
Me: You don't give me money mah
Rachel: *SHRIEK!* Why you don't take money from your mother?

.. and here we go, to the never-ending vortex of questions. It never will cease until perhaps, a decade later. Fearing for my sanity, I excused myself to the loo. I emerged only to be ambushed by Esther who launched into a full-force complaint regarding how her Neopets account had been hacked. I had previously been bullied and nagged into handing over my Neopets account, where I would have you know that it contained millions worth of Neopoints (which is probably squandered by her by now). Because of that achievement, I was somewhat looked upon as a Neopet Goddess to my fellow young cousins with malleable minds.

In her quest to become a Neopet Multi-Millionairess, she decided to engage my help in playing Neopet Games. Thus, I sat there subduedly for an hour, playing spelling and memory games and winning 5K worth of Neopoints, with Esther shrieking excitedly as la la dui.

Finally, I retreated to my room. Mister Toto, as if emphatizing, followed and hopped on the bed as I started on my reading. Rachel decided to sneak it as well. Further, she decided to take the liberty of hopping on my bed. Now, I am very partial towards animals. My dog can trot all day in the garden and I would still welcome him on my bed. However, I am VERY ANAL regarding human feet on my bed. VERY.

Me: Could you please come down from my bed, Rachel?
Rachel: Why?
Me: Because this is my bed and I don't like people stepping on them.
Rachel: Why? (Still hopping around)
Me: Because I don't like.
Rachel: Why? (Hopping as gleefully as ever)
Me: I JUST DON'T LIKE IT. COME DOWN, PLEASE.
Rachel: How come?

WTF?! What is wrong with children nowadays?! Don't they listen to instructions anymore?! I mean, yes, children should be brought up to question but this is beyond my mental limits! I only had to endure them for 3 miserly hours and I was almost at the end of rope. I am seriously not ready for kids.

Wait. Oh, and I think I am partially deaf for the day due to endless shrieking.

And So It Is...

When Sam came over for lunch at NUS yesterday, I realized she was quite abreast with my news. "I read your blog mah," she drawled. In fact, she reads it because "it is good for destressing!" She thinks my blog reeks of mad-hat absurdity that makes her go ha-ha-ha.

Right. But I'm afraid today's post will be a melancholic one, my dear Sam. Thus, do please refrain from reading it. In fact, I am blasting Damien Rice's sappy tearducts-tugging tunes in my iPod to up the melancholy semblance as I am typing. And there you have it - a disclaimer. Ain't I thoughtful?

So... over a dinner of sushi last night, Sandy let on that 1-2 weeks ago, someone called to lament to her that he was on the verge of turning berserk at the dismal outcome of the relationship. In fact, he was so persistent in extracting an answer from the poor clueless girl, I could sensed her exasperation during her narration. At that moment, I just felt this whole sheet of guilt enveloping me. Guilt for wrecking someone's life. Guilt for implicating my poor girl pal. Nothing but guilt. It feels like shite, really.

Although I came out from the breakup looking like a nonchalant party, the truth is I am tortured in many other ways. I keep a distance from my family and relatives, avoiding any shred of opportunities where they would ask me about my love life. I suffer guilt, guilt and more guilt. I suppress all these guilt within, I suppress all the am-i-heartless thoughts. I wonder when karma will come round and deliver the tight slap of retribution on my face.

I have an intense yearning to fly away. Maybe an overseas appointment after my graduation would be a good thing. I remembered those times when I would be reluctant leaving my mum or my dog behind on overseas trips. Why this change? It is this insane weariness, goddamnit. I swore I did not come out of the battle unwounded.

Anyway, after dinner, my brother requested for some drinks at Holland Village. Over his strawberry yoghurt drink, he animatedly recited the intricate operation of the male gender.

Alan: When a guy chu so many patterns already, sometimes he is no longer getting you for you.
Alan: He is doing it for his ego.
Me: WTF?
Me: No way. I'm sure I know people like that, but some guys aren't.
Alan: Don't be stupid! I am telling you this because I'm your brother!
Alan: You are disgusted with me, aren't you?
Me: ... yeah.
Alan: But look! I'm so nice to my 2 girls, they think I am a saint, doing all these fucked-up things.
Me: ...
Alan: Don't be naive lah, sista.
Alan: We only show the good side to the women whose skirts we are chasing.

Isn't it scary?

Now, pardon me while I go bask in melancholy.

Traitor Me!

I know Mister Toto is gonna growl "Traitor!" in my face but look!



Kookii's picture of BB Zai deep in slumber just made me choked on my chicken rice and burst out in guffaws. So cute, can!?

Is it just me?

The particular building I work in is served by a singular pathetic elevator. As such, instead of waiting for the accursed lift to crank its way up and down and getting trapped in claustrophic conditions for a six-storey journey, I rather opt to climb my way up every morning.

When I do make decisions to take the lift, I find it amazing that people actually have patience to wait for the slow contraption in order to take them to the SECOND STOREY. These people actually have the patience to wait for the elevator to take them to the SECOND STOREY?! On one hand, I respect their patience in waiting for a good 3 minutes because that period of time could be put into crawling up two flights of steps. Ironically, on the other hand, I cannot help but feel mild irritation because - It's just TWO FLIGHT OF STEPS, for Christ's sake! WHAT ARE YOUR LEGS FOR?!

You know, in the deeper philosophical sense, you can sometimes tell the characteristics of people through such behavior. People who rather climb the stairs for one or two stories are probably people who are impatient and are the go-getters who want to get things accomplished. People who prefer the lifts are probably those who just wait for things to happen. Now, sadly, I do possess a slight discrimination towards the latter. I am silently 'zhk-ing' people who enters the lift at the second storey and leaves on the third.

Mmm?

I kid you not when I tell you that I have eaten about more than 100 dumplings since the start of 2006. Ever since someone made the mistake of complimenting my mum on her dumplings, she has developed a fetish of making them weekly. This weekend alone, I have eaten 15, at the insistence of mummy dearest. Let's see how whether this fetish outlast the ngoh hiang madness. The ngoh hiang making madness got so bad, my cousins tried to seek my help in slipping away each time my mum attempted to sneak them into their bags.

Oh, and I ate the entire half of watermelon after my jog. Now, where on earth did all these food go? I'm hungry again.

Cranium and Shopping Madness

I think I haven't laughed that hard for a long time. I have just came back from playing Cranium at the Settlers Cafe in Holland Village. Apparently, Cranium is a game that test a combination of skills. You would need sculpting skills to mould play-doh, drawing skills to doodle (eyes closed or not), general knowledge for trivia, mathematics wizardary for problem sums, lack of tone-deafness for whistling/humming tunes, hollywood-worthy acting skills for charades and imitating famous persons, word-processing skills for anagrams and fill-in-the-blanks... Heck, we even had to spell 'UNNECESSARY' backwards with only one try. Oh well, it was really fun watching friends trying to imitate Marge Simpson, mould a LOBSTER and learning the word "osculate" actually means "kiss affectionately" (Like WTH?). GO BUY CRANIUM! Ho ho.

Prior to gaming, we had a light dinner at Breko's after a mad shopping spree instigated by Candice. Ahh. Retail therapy feels good. The bad news is: the digital camera might have to wait now. Heh.

Decisions, Decisions!

Like the rest of the Singapore population (or so it seems), I made my way down to the overcrowded exhibition halls of Suntec City to glimpse at the potential digital cameras choices. Like half of the Singapore population (or so it seems), I made a beeline for the popular digital camera brand names.

Honestly! It seems like everyone is getting a digital camera. Could it be due to increase in narcissism in the society? Or could it be due to the NYP Tammy sex scandal incident that everybody realize it is better recording sexual escapades on digital cameras instead of phones?

I was quite overwhelmed by over-enthusiastic salesmen who were chattering away at lightning speed, sputtering spits over my face. After all the ordeal of being shoved, pushed and spitted against, I finally decided on my potential three candidates.

Panasonic Lumix DMC-FX8


PRICE: SGD599.00
I like the matted feel of the camera, but detest the view and menu navigation (I am very anal in aesthetics.) . I am clueless regarding the ISO whatsoever, but am sufficiently impressed with the optical stablizer. Ha. The things marketers can come up with to impress malleable shoppers like me. What's more amazing is they allow photography in the most diverse modes, for instance - "Food, Baby, Fireworks, Party, Snow, Self-portrait, Soft Skin.. "

So apparently, the SNOW mode makes the snow in your photograph looks whiter. JUST HOW COOL IS THAT? I mean I can brag like "Eh look, dude. My snow is whiter than yours." I am not sure what FOOD mode does, though. Or SOFT SKIN. If these modes make my food look more appetizing or my skin appear softer, I am SO buying this. (Ha. ha. I am kidding about the latter.)

Canon Ixus 60

PRICE: SGD599.00
So, it is funny how I have studied consumer behavior and how irrational consumers can be and yet, I am ironically suspectible to all the effects. The flesh is weak, my friend. We have all heard about versioning, and how manufacturers are cunningly plotting and scheming to suck all consumers arid by gradually releasing subsequent versions with very marginal improvements. Yeah, so say hello to Canon Ixus 60. I wonder about the day when Canon Ixus 1000 gets released and I will tell my grandchildren "Last time ah mah used Canon Ixus 60 okay."

Oh, I digress. Canon is a very safe bet because my brother's camera is a Canon too. It has been established to be reliable and it has served us well. It looks sleek, screen-wise and external. It does not, however, have the fancy SNOW mode to make my snow look whiter, but it does have a 6.0 Megapixel capability (which beats Panasonic 5.1 Megapixel).

Sony Cybershot DSC-W50


Price: SGD609.00
Of course, like the other two, this camera looks sleek and classy. As I was playing with the camera, I noted they have like, "A Dummy's Guide to Functions" pre-installed. So, it is like, I will press on a certain icon, a text explanation will appear and explicate the obvious. For instance, clicking on NIGHT MODE probably has the explanation - "This is for taking photographs at night."

Duh, I thought to myself. The salesman, however, thought this was a very marketable factor and thus enthusiatically blurted "Only our cameras are the only ones with text explanations, you know!" Right. I must look like a dummy who don't know functions very well, or the salesman is plain desperate to sell his cameras.

Oh, and Sony has the fancy preset scene modes, one of which makes water bluer and snow whiter. Woo hoo! Okay, I am gonna sound like a retard gushing about such trivial attributes to all the camera connoisseurs.

Which is also why I value opinions from you people!! Please enlighten! Thank you very much.

Oh oh, there is also a dark horse. Fuji seems highly recommended, but it is damn expensive. So many choices! How, like that?

Catch No Ball

As I switched on my office PC this morning, I noted a disturbing nickname on MSN - "Pool_of_Blood". I deftly moused over the nick and realized it belonged to my brother. My brother is an architect in this particular firm which actually monitors its employees' uploading/downloading bandwidth usage. As such, he seldom comes online and if he does, I usually refrain from communicating with him since most of the times, our conversations are severely retarded and redundant. After all, we share the same corny genes. The considerate sister in me doesn't want to waste his bandwidth also lah.

But hey, "Pool_of_Blood" is a disturbing name, is it not? I imagined him to be lying in a crimson pool, struggling to type for help with his blood-soaked fingers.

lost duckie says:
Brother.. why are you a Pool of Blood?!

Pool_of_Blood says:
no lah, liverpool lost badly early this morning

lost duckie says:
WTF! Waste my time.
lost duckie says:
i thought u injured
lost duckie says:
must send alarm to mummy

Pool_of_Blood says:
the whole stadium was a sea of red mourning over the loss
Pool_of_Blood says:
oh wellz luckily u did not

lost duckie says:
why u must add z in front of your well

Pool_of_Blood says:
dunno it came naturally

lost duckie says:
dun waste ur upload/download bandwidth
lost duckie says:
ha ha
lost duckie says:
extra 'z' = more bandwidth
lost duckie says:
1 byte more ok

Pool_of_Blood says:
k

Demons & Angels

Firstly, I like to thank the very kind people who spent time enlightening me on which camera to purchase. I seldom splurge a big amount of money on myself, the last big-ticket item being my Acer Laptop which was really bought for the utilitarian needs of work overseas. Now, a digital camera just seems really hedonic and the logical side of my brain (also known as the Angel) is just screaming "You Extravagant Bitch!"

Of course, the irrational demon often surfaces to squelch poor logic and that explains my many impulsive buys. Sigh. Seemingly, in times of stress, the wars waged within me are often won by the demon. I get impulsive. Reasoning and Logic fail me. And guess what? I am currently extremely stressed. Ugh.

Last evening, I went with a friend to eat XO Fish Head Bee Hoon. I haven't had that for the longest time and it was part of my MUST-EAT list I noted while I was starving alone in the shivery temperatures of Berkeley. Strangely, all the stress must have screwed up my appetite and I ended up eating much lesser than I would like to.

After dinner, we went to check out One@ Rochester Park just a stone's throw away. The place was pretty crowded for a weekday. It must have been all the hype from the newspaper's reviews. I do detest to visit a place immediately after a public review because I hate crowds. Still, it wasn't too bad and the atmosphere is pretty goood. Although everyone else was looking posh and chi-chi, I felt quite at home in my flip-flops and fisherman khakis. Heck, I think I can even walk from my home here in shorts and singlet. My house only 15-20 minutes walk away leh.

Anyway, with the wine and chatter, I temporarily felt the stress seeped away. The dreadful part is when it all ended, I reached home and thought "Man, back to the shite hole tomorrow."

And here I am. :(

Lights, Cameras and Oooh... A Wedding

The one thing I dislike about edging (Hmm, did I say edging? I really meant careering at lightning-speed) towards middle age is the influx of wedding invitations ambushed by friends and cousins. There are weddings that make you go "Awww." and wish for the magical moment of your own, there are others that make you cringe so bad and not want to touch the matrimony bliss with a ten-foot pole. Thankfully, the last two weddings I attended were more of the former, probably because I had my cohort of familiar friends whom I can catch up with. Food, wine, ambience and friends. What could possibly beat that?

Hilda's wedding was held at the Asian Civilization Musuem. It was a lovely affair and I totally adored the alfresco concept which exudes a more relaxed atmosphere, compared to the conventional Chinese Restaurant style which is thick in tension. I love the open air and nature. You hear laughter tinkling, wine glasses chinking, feel the breeze wafting through, hear the jazz music playing ... man, that is exactly how I visualize ... my funeral to be! No clanging cymbals, thank you very much. Shucks, I am totally off the tangent. From Weddings to Funeral, whaddayaknow.

Right, so I am currently flipping the Digital Life of the Straits Times and it hit me that the IT Show is going to be in Suntec City this Thursday, hailed as the exhibition of cheap Digital Cameras sales. I have been pondering upon getting my very own digital camera for the longest time. I am quite sick of borrowing cameras from my auntie and having my brother's camera dying on me after just three miserable shots. I know I should actually do some research on which cameras to purchase, but you people should also know I am one huge lazy ass. So! If you people have any advice to offer (credible ones, please!), I am all eyes. Plus, you might get more eye-candies on this blog leh.

Some choices I am considering:
The Panasonic Lumix DMC FX8


Sony Cybershot DSC-W30


Casio Exilim EX-Z60


Right, decisions, decisions. Bah. Or maybe I should just go down to the IT Show to trade in my Ipod Mini and get a Nano instead.

Why Felicity Huffman Didn't Win

For a good part of my life, I pity the people who have garnered my support. This is because I suffered from what I think is called the "Jinxed Supporter" syndrome. That just means that anybody, ranging from actors, actresses to soccer teams, will probably NOT WIN if I were to be supporting them. It goes to the extent that sometimes, people actually betted on the soccer teams because they know I am supporting their opponents. Anyway, the gist of it is - if I were to want the person or team I am supporting to win, I should not attempt to even glimpse at the event.

So, this morning, I was discretely catching The Oscars on the university's network TV. At the same time, I was chatting to my neighbor in Berkeley. The nominees for the Best Leading Actress were being introduced.

Me: I want Felicity Huffman to win!
Him: Yah, it's probably her.
Me: Huffman! Huffman! Huffman!
Him: No way keira knightley should win
Him: although i think she's kinda cute... haha
Him: yah... i think felicity huffman should win
Me: Huffman! Huffman! Huffman!

Obviously, I think Huffman is a very very talented actress. I read about her and her husband, and I think both of them are very intelligent thespians, not in it so much for fame as for self-accomplishment. Besides, the Oscars have a knack for rewarding people who uglify themselves (Think Charlize Theron in Monster, Hilary Swank in Million Dollar Baby). What is there to fault with Felicity?!

However, to my despair and unsurprisingly, the award went to Reese Whiterspoon instead. BAH! I am sorry, Felicity! I am the one who caused you not to win. I promise not to watch the next time you get nominated. :(

Our conversations continued. Apparently, he has just watched Match Point and is currently nosebleeding over the ever-so-perky Scarlet Johanson. So when Match Point was nominated for some category, he went slightly berserk.

Him: Match Point!
Him: I support Match Point.

But Match Point didn't win.

Me: HA HA HA! YOU ARE JINXED TOO.
Him: ...

Oh, a fellow jinxed supporter. Welcome to my world!
Best Director Nominees came on.

Me: I don't like Lee Ang.

As expected, Lee Ang won. Thanks to me, of course. I did not support him what.

Of course, we have the finale of the Best Motion Picture of the Year. It seemed almost like a shoo-in.

Him: I think it is probably Brokeback...
Me: Ew. Oh well. Should be it.
Him: If you looked at it overall....
Him: It is a pretty picture.
Him: Crash??? Ewww. Thats a worse choice.
Him: Any of capote, munich or gdnight or gdluck would have been better.

Jack Nicholson flung his arms to the air and announced the winner of the Best Motion Picture to be CRASH. What the...?! That must be a super dark horse.

Me: Eh.
Him: ...
Me: Crash won, can?
Him: ....
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA.
Me: My god, you are seriously jinxed.
Him: Crash???? Gosh *Disbelief*
Me: It is ALL YOUR FAULT.
Him: Gee.

WAHAHAHA. I happy leh. Now, I have got someone who is more of a jinxed supporter than me. WOOHOO!

Ice Lollies!

The sun has been too friendly for my comfort these few days. Just standing still in its sweltering radiation will cause you to be drenched in perspiration. The blinding rays have been so powerful, I can't open my puny eyes. Grr.

So, imagine my pleasant surprise, when after walking Mister Toto with my mum on this quiet Saturday, I opened the freezer to find a tray of chocolate frozen lollies. Apparently, Lina, our domestic helper found a can of hardened Milo powder, and creatively decided to melt them all and freeze them into ice lollies. That was what my grandmother used to do for my brother and me when we were kids for treats. Ah, those sweet sweet memories. I greedily consumed 2 ice lollies and am currently feeling very gratified. Mmm. *rubs tummy*

I had a fun afternoon and evening catching up with my JC pals at Cheryl's housewarming. Ah, such a pleasant environment. I am happy. :)

Paiseh Man...

So, I had a Vietnamese student assistant come consult me just a while ago regarding some data collection. "Call me Hiep," he said. "Hiep," I repeated, mentally visualizing how I can shout out his name in a crowd without people thinking I am actually being robbed. (HELP! geddit, you nincompoop?)

Anyhoo, I was showing Hiep how I collected my data 4 years ago, employing very primitive java programming and manual data entry. There I was, trying to figure out my old codes and tweaking them, he sat there patiently. I proudly showed him how I used shorthand to manually key in my data from reading the big bulky journals.

He tried his best to look impressed, before meekly elucidating how he actually write a program to read in the data from PDF formats of the journals, image files as well as HTML. Oh man, I feel historic and useless listening to him.

So I told him,"Hiep, you don't need my help (Puns absolutely intended) lah."

Knackered

Last evening, I put on my jogging shoes for a run on the NUS tracks. At the 10th lap, I was feeling a strange ache at my knees. There was, as usual, the problem of sore toes. I really do need to get my act going and buy some new shoes. By the 15th lap, I was getting sick of the sight of the NUS grandstand. The sun has already set and the grounds were awashed in darkness, with joggers leaving one by one progressively. I was the only singular pathetic idiot, hobbling with achy whatsnot, with an unsound mind urging - Aiyar, already at the 15th lap, my as well round it up to 20 lah.

Despite protests from the body, I continued to finish 20 rounds. For a moment, I felt some satisfaction until the cynical side of me reminded - That is only 8km, my dear, not even near 10km. Freak man, how the hell am I going to run a half marathon at this rate? This is demoralizing.

Drenched in sweat, I suddenly remembered my duty to purchase a housewarming gift for Cheryl this Saturday. Since the rest of the present-sharers are busy with work or sick in bed, the quest for the perfect present fell on me. I wobbled with my accursed knees and toes to Ikea, the land of house-warming gifts, in my sweat-drenched outfit. After several exchanges of phone calls and MMSes of potential gifts, I bought a lamp and a tool box. So yeah, with my throughly-wrecked knees and soon-to-fall-off toenails, I hauled my heavy loot into my arms and wondered how the hell I were to make it back, staring incredulously at the snaking taxi queue.

Fortunately, my Dad called and rescued me from queuing hell. Hooray.

I fell asleep almost instantly the moment I hit my pillow last night. I was thoroughly knackered. When I awoke today, the backwash of yesterday's activities came in full blow. Cramping lower back, blue-black toenails... Grrr.

Oh well, but I am happy. One of my students has completed and displayed to me most of the experiment procedure and we are all set to go on Monday! Hmm, a strange sort of pride. :) *Glows*

All about Ice Cream

Yesterday, Mike IM-ed me to arrange a meetup. I haven't seen him since I left California. The last time I bade him farewell was in The Great Mall at Milpitas, and now he is back in sunny Singapore. How time flies.

Together with his two other colleuges, we indulged in the many flavors of Island Creamery and both of us reminisced about our past experiences, ranging from how we missed the vast spaces over at the US to harrowing escapes from a deranged stranger whom we thought was going to rob us. The latter event was a hilarious one:

Mike and I were strolling back to his car after the Love Parade Party in this shady district near the Civic Center. Mike looked around nervously and whispered,"Shucks. We shouldn't have taken this route. This is quite a dangerous area to walk through."

Right at that moment, someone yelled out from behind us,"HEY YOU! STOP RIGHT THERE."

We ignored and continued walking.

"HEY YOU, MISTER! YOU HEAR ME? STOP RIGHT THERE."

I turned to Mike,"You think he is calling you?" Mike looked petrified and shook his head. "Let's walk faster," I urged.

"HEY YOU, THE ONE WITH THE RED SHOES. STOP."

Mike was wearing red shoes.

We hurriedly walked and we heard the yells stopped. Instead, the voice seemed to be conversing in friendly tones with another person he has met. We relaxed a little and stopped at a junction by a red light.

Unfortunately, the voice caught up. The voice belonged to a tall black man who tapped Mike on his shoulder. We froze in fear. I half-thought he was going to pull out a gun.

TBM: Hey mister.

I swore Mike's face turned a few shades paler.

TBM: I don't mean no disrespect to you.
Mike: ... (nods)
TBM: But this lady here (points at me) is a keeper. You treat her well, you understand? She's beautiful (okay, I italicize the words to soften the impact of people who might suffer from the compulsion to puke), I tell ya.

The tall black man winked at me and walked away. I pondered if he wanted to ask for some change in return for his very kind words. I looked at Mike. Mike looked at me. We were both in a daze, unable to absorb the absurdity of the situation.

After a minute, Mike regained his color and exclaimed,"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS GUY CHASED US A FEW STREETS TO TELL ME SUCH A BO LIAO THING!!!!!!!!!!!" He shook his head but we were both relieved we weren't robbed. Heh.

Okay, back to reality. At the Island Creamery, I had flavors ReverSo and Burnt Caramel. Both were mediocre. I still very much prefer my Simply Chocolate from DailyScoop. The others had flavors like Horlicks, Teh-tarik, Kopi-O ... beverages that were not really my favorites. So yeah, DailyScoop still gets my vote. Go try it!

Aaack! It's March!

It's March already! Where did time go?! I am so dead. Ugh! Impending deadlines are looming ominously. :(

Last night, I had supper with my brother at Bukit Timah where we exchanged sorrowful tales of relationships (or the lack of, Ha Ha). Let's call the girl he was interested in R. R had invited him to a club where she was hanging out with her colleuges. Apparently, she wasn't quite effective in her banking sales and required assistance from the top salesman in the company. In return for the top guy's favour, she was supposed to entertain his whims, such as guzzling down two mugs of beer. Further, the top guy tried to make fun of her by asking to pick up a butch at the club.

Let's give the top guy the benefit of doubt. He could be out to have some innocent sporting fun. However, he also continued on to squeeze her ass, hug her and sit on her lap. And she reciprocated. And that begs the question - Just how much of your dignity would you give up to get a few sales jobs?

For my entire life, I never believe in the power of networking (and I am wrong, sadly). I stubbornly hold on to the fact that if I am capable sufficiently, people will take notice one day. And I still do now. (Not that it is succeeding, of course.) I do not like compromising my dignity, integrity or whatsoever, and neither do I like succeeding in a job that is not based on my capabilities. I am assuming that tolerance in accepting lewd behaviors from others does not qualify as a capability.

Just how happy will you be, if you know the success of your job is correlated with the number of times your ass is squeezed? Ah well, to each his/her own. I know I won't be, at all.