Holidays' the season for fLiRtAtIoN.
Yes. Unrestrained, Passionate, Open fLiRtAtIoN.
With nary a care on mind, no immediate deadlines, no annoying clients to entertain, no edgy boss breathing down your neck, with all the time and space in the world, heck, tell me if it isn't time to let your wild side show. Romantic liasions are the sweetest then, and hot sparks most fiery. Many couples come together during holidays, after affectionate feelings have been forced to simmer during busy times. Holidays' the time when Adam & Eve meet!
Ok, let's get this clear, I am NOT advocating irresponsible, senseless, promiscuous physical mating! No no no... I'm a true supporter of the abstinence-before-marriage movement. I'm just saying that holidays' the season when people, being more relaxed, seem more willing to bat those eyelids, & for those who've found their target, to make that all-important first move.
The season has just begun. Let the good times roll!
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Monday, May 30, 2005
Dreams
Do you dream when you sleep?
What kind of dreams do you have?
My dad used to tell me - the harder you think about something in the day, the more you'd dream about it at night. Ever since my mum decided to go meet Buddha, I seldom sleep well. Sometimes I dream about her. But it is getting better... slowly... but i guess, surely... Recently, I dream about the BIG event organized by our college. In my dreams, I rehearsed bringing those participants on their outdoor trips. Heck, I should get double my pay, I'm working even at night.
I think grandpa also once told me - certain dreams are a subconcious reflection of your 'past life'. Since childhood, I have this recurring dream of warriors riding horses, brandishing swords, galloping through ancient shophouse alleys, & making thunderous war-cries as they rode. A scene of chaos, a scene of war. Perhaps that's why I do not fancy wartime movies. I shudder to think that I could have been a head-chopping, bushily-bearded, slogan-bellowing warrior.
Perhaps dreams are just meaningless replays of the day's thoughts. Perhaps they are sometime deeper, linking the present to the past. Perhaps all of us dream, but not all of us remember the nights' dreams. Perhaps it all doesn't matter to you.
But one day, if you hear of someone who can decipher dreams & hence trace ur 'past' & predict ur 'future', assuming he is no phoney fake, would you go to him? Would you want to know?
What kind of dreams do you have?
My dad used to tell me - the harder you think about something in the day, the more you'd dream about it at night. Ever since my mum decided to go meet Buddha, I seldom sleep well. Sometimes I dream about her. But it is getting better... slowly... but i guess, surely... Recently, I dream about the BIG event organized by our college. In my dreams, I rehearsed bringing those participants on their outdoor trips. Heck, I should get double my pay, I'm working even at night.
I think grandpa also once told me - certain dreams are a subconcious reflection of your 'past life'. Since childhood, I have this recurring dream of warriors riding horses, brandishing swords, galloping through ancient shophouse alleys, & making thunderous war-cries as they rode. A scene of chaos, a scene of war. Perhaps that's why I do not fancy wartime movies. I shudder to think that I could have been a head-chopping, bushily-bearded, slogan-bellowing warrior.
Perhaps dreams are just meaningless replays of the day's thoughts. Perhaps they are sometime deeper, linking the present to the past. Perhaps all of us dream, but not all of us remember the nights' dreams. Perhaps it all doesn't matter to you.
But one day, if you hear of someone who can decipher dreams & hence trace ur 'past' & predict ur 'future', assuming he is no phoney fake, would you go to him? Would you want to know?
Sunday, May 29, 2005
A short film for e soccer-crazed in S'pore
Heard about the short film on 3 soccer-crazy boys trying to find a good, free public soccer field in S'pore? If you can tahan singlish, you can check it out. Sort of reminds me of my secondary school soccer-crazed classmates. =)
http://www.wirelessed.net/takgiu/index2.php
Soccer... Boleh!
http://www.wirelessed.net/takgiu/index2.php
Soccer... Boleh!
Those sweet young things
Ladies, listen up!
Once in a while, you should part with some of ur hard-earned money to hear sweet young handsome things sing. It's such a visual & auditory treat. =)
Today, I met up with a volunteer friend for dinner @ fosters in Holland V. My gosh, what a clever clever choice. I had a nice light yummy smoked salmon sandwich, washed down with hot lemon tea in a pot, & rounded up with a warm apple pie with vanilla ice-cream. A SaTiSfyInG meal indeed. But the best is yet to be!
Live music usually accompanies diners in this restaurant, but tonight, there was a "guest appearance" by 3 young foreign talents, from Britain I think. It's probably a once-off performance or something, they've even got their fellow family members down to support them. Looking about 16 to 18 yrs old, two strummed their guitars & crooned, while one teased his flute. Melodious country music floated through the entire place... a total stress-reliever. Felt as though there could almost be cows grazing around me... PLUS the fact that these young nubile things also happen to be pretty attractive - earnest & wholesome, all 3 were tall & lanky, clean-cut & square-jawed, with peircing blue soulful eyes... I was theirs for the ~45min that they sang. Yummilicious!
Like I said to some close buddies of mine, men are most charming & irresistible when they are focused. Too bad these 3 young musicians are so underaged. If they are another 10yrs older, I may just flutter my eyelashes & buy them all a round of drinks. =)
Honey-sweet dreams dear all.
Once in a while, you should part with some of ur hard-earned money to hear sweet young handsome things sing. It's such a visual & auditory treat. =)
Today, I met up with a volunteer friend for dinner @ fosters in Holland V. My gosh, what a clever clever choice. I had a nice light yummy smoked salmon sandwich, washed down with hot lemon tea in a pot, & rounded up with a warm apple pie with vanilla ice-cream. A SaTiSfyInG meal indeed. But the best is yet to be!
Live music usually accompanies diners in this restaurant, but tonight, there was a "guest appearance" by 3 young foreign talents, from Britain I think. It's probably a once-off performance or something, they've even got their fellow family members down to support them. Looking about 16 to 18 yrs old, two strummed their guitars & crooned, while one teased his flute. Melodious country music floated through the entire place... a total stress-reliever. Felt as though there could almost be cows grazing around me... PLUS the fact that these young nubile things also happen to be pretty attractive - earnest & wholesome, all 3 were tall & lanky, clean-cut & square-jawed, with peircing blue soulful eyes... I was theirs for the ~45min that they sang. Yummilicious!
Like I said to some close buddies of mine, men are most charming & irresistible when they are focused. Too bad these 3 young musicians are so underaged. If they are another 10yrs older, I may just flutter my eyelashes & buy them all a round of drinks. =)
Honey-sweet dreams dear all.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Childhood goodies
Muahahahahahahaha... *choke choke*
I'm in seventh heaven. Simple pleasures bring great joy indeed.
I'm munching on my childhood loves when typing this. "Chicken Egg Cake" (do a direct chinese translation pls) studded with yellow raisins on the surface, with marigold strawberry milk!!! Muahahahahahaha... *choke big time* Happy happy! Do a jiggle gig gig, clap ur hands, shake ur bum!
Come on, don't stare at the screen in disbelief. Everybody MUST have their own childhood favs, right?! These are the goodies that accompanied us as we transformed from crawling, whiny, kiddy, pimply adolescents to mature, sauve/gorgeous, desirable eligibles; the goodies that cost only a few cents/dollars but bring back tons of priceless memories; the goodies that are fast disappearing on the shelves as fewer & fewer of the post-80s generation learn to appreciate.
I've a friend who cannot get over her instant-mee-like Mamee... another who adores his Doremon corn crackers... another who's addicted to her Nutella... another who must have his Big White Rabbit sweets...
What is a childhood favorite that you still crave for today?? Tell me!! =)
Oh, & for me, I love KETCHUP too! I can have it with almost everything - with pies, noddles, rice, chips, muffins, cakes... whatever. It's so good, you can even eat it on its own. Hee. *lick lick*
Maybe I'd go put some ketchup on my "Chicken Egg Cake" now. Double wonders. Haha. Yum Yum.
I'm in seventh heaven. Simple pleasures bring great joy indeed.
I'm munching on my childhood loves when typing this. "Chicken Egg Cake" (do a direct chinese translation pls) studded with yellow raisins on the surface, with marigold strawberry milk!!! Muahahahahahaha... *choke big time* Happy happy! Do a jiggle gig gig, clap ur hands, shake ur bum!
Come on, don't stare at the screen in disbelief. Everybody MUST have their own childhood favs, right?! These are the goodies that accompanied us as we transformed from crawling, whiny, kiddy, pimply adolescents to mature, sauve/gorgeous, desirable eligibles; the goodies that cost only a few cents/dollars but bring back tons of priceless memories; the goodies that are fast disappearing on the shelves as fewer & fewer of the post-80s generation learn to appreciate.
I've a friend who cannot get over her instant-mee-like Mamee... another who adores his Doremon corn crackers... another who's addicted to her Nutella... another who must have his Big White Rabbit sweets...
What is a childhood favorite that you still crave for today?? Tell me!! =)
Oh, & for me, I love KETCHUP too! I can have it with almost everything - with pies, noddles, rice, chips, muffins, cakes... whatever. It's so good, you can even eat it on its own. Hee. *lick lick*
Maybe I'd go put some ketchup on my "Chicken Egg Cake" now. Double wonders. Haha. Yum Yum.
Friday, May 27, 2005
How kind are you?
A wise man once said:
'Kindness in words creates confidence,
Kindness in thinking creates profoundness,
Kindness in giving creates love...'
I know of a perfect negative example of the above.
This man is cruel with his words. A self-proclaimed buddhist... but I see/feel/hear/smell not a single atom of zen in him. He speaks with vengeance, towards all beings, young or old, man or woman, regardless of race, language or religion. When a young child recently shared with him her good results, he said "So what if your results are good, your EQ is zero." When people decide not to patronize his shop, he unleashes his colorful vocabulary of curses. When people fall sick, he says they deserve it. Kindness in words creates confidence. He is the one with zero EQ and zero confidence.
This man cannot think straight. His sense of logic is warped. Right is wrong, Wrong is right. He spends his days obsessing over get-rich schemes, firmly believing that everyone owes him something... anything. He thinks the worst of all people, & imagine the worst of all situations. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. He is the superficial one.
This man does not love. He promises, but does not do. He rules, but does not serve. He believes himself to be the Almighty, & coerces the weaker-willed to be his humble servants. Giving nothing, he takes everything... Kindness in giving creates love. He is one who knows no love.
Oh Buddha, Jesus, Allah, Lord Khrishna... Why oh why does such a man exist? Someone who knows no love, what is his role on planet Earth?
To all those whom he has hurt, let us be the confident, profound, & loving ones. Let us be kind... (and try to) forgive him.
Amitabha...
'Kindness in words creates confidence,
Kindness in thinking creates profoundness,
Kindness in giving creates love...'
I know of a perfect negative example of the above.
This man is cruel with his words. A self-proclaimed buddhist... but I see/feel/hear/smell not a single atom of zen in him. He speaks with vengeance, towards all beings, young or old, man or woman, regardless of race, language or religion. When a young child recently shared with him her good results, he said "So what if your results are good, your EQ is zero." When people decide not to patronize his shop, he unleashes his colorful vocabulary of curses. When people fall sick, he says they deserve it. Kindness in words creates confidence. He is the one with zero EQ and zero confidence.
This man cannot think straight. His sense of logic is warped. Right is wrong, Wrong is right. He spends his days obsessing over get-rich schemes, firmly believing that everyone owes him something... anything. He thinks the worst of all people, & imagine the worst of all situations. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. He is the superficial one.
This man does not love. He promises, but does not do. He rules, but does not serve. He believes himself to be the Almighty, & coerces the weaker-willed to be his humble servants. Giving nothing, he takes everything... Kindness in giving creates love. He is one who knows no love.
Oh Buddha, Jesus, Allah, Lord Khrishna... Why oh why does such a man exist? Someone who knows no love, what is his role on planet Earth?
To all those whom he has hurt, let us be the confident, profound, & loving ones. Let us be kind... (and try to) forgive him.
Amitabha...
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
do NOT disturb
Perhaps... every company should give each of its employees a "Do Not Disturb" sign as part of their initiation/orientation package.
Everyone of us working souls need to use that magic sign once in a while, right?
U should have come by my workplace this week. It's like trying to cross a minefield on foot... S.C.A.R.Y... Our company's organizing a BIG event that'd be launched next week. Everyone's involved, from the top man in his leather armchair to the humble (but still super important) aunty cleaning the loos. & (almost) everyone is highly-strung. There is just so much nitty-gritty-but-still-important-enough-to-screw-up-whole-event issues to wrap up at this last minute that everyone is on a super adrenaline high. Say the wrong thing or hand in the wrong form, WHAM! BAM! big underground bomb goes off... I guess now is the best time to hang up that "Do Not Disturb" sign. Just let the busy do their work.
Rookies beware, unless you are donning a high-quality bomb-proof vest, do NOT go around at this time trying to make senseless small talk and/or demand trival stuff that isn't in one bit related to this event. Ignore at your own peril.
Meantime, I'm getting out of the way. Maybe I'd start doing up my own orbituary, lest I get bombed.
Do Not Disturb.
Everyone of us working souls need to use that magic sign once in a while, right?
U should have come by my workplace this week. It's like trying to cross a minefield on foot... S.C.A.R.Y... Our company's organizing a BIG event that'd be launched next week. Everyone's involved, from the top man in his leather armchair to the humble (but still super important) aunty cleaning the loos. & (almost) everyone is highly-strung. There is just so much nitty-gritty-but-still-important-enough-to-screw-up-whole-event issues to wrap up at this last minute that everyone is on a super adrenaline high. Say the wrong thing or hand in the wrong form, WHAM! BAM! big underground bomb goes off... I guess now is the best time to hang up that "Do Not Disturb" sign. Just let the busy do their work.
Rookies beware, unless you are donning a high-quality bomb-proof vest, do NOT go around at this time trying to make senseless small talk and/or demand trival stuff that isn't in one bit related to this event. Ignore at your own peril.
Meantime, I'm getting out of the way. Maybe I'd start doing up my own orbituary, lest I get bombed.
Do Not Disturb.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
If you know...
If you know you have only 2 more weeks to live... would you tell your loved ones?
Would you break the news, do a big group hug & cry, then spend the next 14 days not letting each other out of sight; or would you keep it to yourself, go around to settle ur own funeral matters, then carry on the countdown calmly & solemnly??
Destination is the same, journeys are different...
I wonder if mum knows.
Would you break the news, do a big group hug & cry, then spend the next 14 days not letting each other out of sight; or would you keep it to yourself, go around to settle ur own funeral matters, then carry on the countdown calmly & solemnly??
Destination is the same, journeys are different...
I wonder if mum knows.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Pass me the paper bag...
I think I need to puke. Big time.
This is the result of getting stuck for an hr in a darkly-lit, sauna-like, spots-blotched room, followed by another 0.5hr in an equally poorly-ventilated train with hundreds of other perspiring souls who were also reaching their fainting thresholds. This is a place where 'ventilation' is a virtual aLiEN. God save Homo sapiens.
This afternoon, on impulse, I went with an uncle, two aunts & a dad to JB for a makan-jalan session. BIG MISTAKE. Don't misunderstand, JB's great, with lots of cheap buys and sinfully delicious food (we had today - herbal duck, butter prawns, golden-fried beancurd, braised fatty pork..). But to bash in and then try to wriggle out on a public holiday is utter NUTS. You must be tired of living.
The queues at customs on our return trip back to Little Red Dot, were out of the world. A scene straight from Class A++ Horror movies. Hundreds of sweaty bodies squeezed together like sardines, I think everyone of them could have screamed 'MOLEST'. We decided to try the trains instead. An equally BAD, if not WORSE, idea. This was the place where I very nearly suffocated & puked at the same time. Zero ventilation. It's like us slowly steaming away in a claypot... I usually have pretty high tolerance level towards all kinds of sub-standard conditions, but this time, I don't know... Maybe it's PMS or something. At that moment, I was ready to qUiT and pay for a night at some JB hotels with my relatives. Anything, to get out of this terrible terrible terrible mess.
Anyway... one bottle of sour prunes & 2hrs later, I made it back to homeground. Alive. But traumatized. I don't think I would ever cross the border on a public holiday again. EEeeeksss...
I'm still feeling puke-ish right now... X'cuse moi, I need to go get my paper bag.
Don't say you haven't been warned.
This is the result of getting stuck for an hr in a darkly-lit, sauna-like, spots-blotched room, followed by another 0.5hr in an equally poorly-ventilated train with hundreds of other perspiring souls who were also reaching their fainting thresholds. This is a place where 'ventilation' is a virtual aLiEN. God save Homo sapiens.
This afternoon, on impulse, I went with an uncle, two aunts & a dad to JB for a makan-jalan session. BIG MISTAKE. Don't misunderstand, JB's great, with lots of cheap buys and sinfully delicious food (we had today - herbal duck, butter prawns, golden-fried beancurd, braised fatty pork..). But to bash in and then try to wriggle out on a public holiday is utter NUTS. You must be tired of living.
The queues at customs on our return trip back to Little Red Dot, were out of the world. A scene straight from Class A++ Horror movies. Hundreds of sweaty bodies squeezed together like sardines, I think everyone of them could have screamed 'MOLEST'. We decided to try the trains instead. An equally BAD, if not WORSE, idea. This was the place where I very nearly suffocated & puked at the same time. Zero ventilation. It's like us slowly steaming away in a claypot... I usually have pretty high tolerance level towards all kinds of sub-standard conditions, but this time, I don't know... Maybe it's PMS or something. At that moment, I was ready to qUiT and pay for a night at some JB hotels with my relatives. Anything, to get out of this terrible terrible terrible mess.
Anyway... one bottle of sour prunes & 2hrs later, I made it back to homeground. Alive. But traumatized. I don't think I would ever cross the border on a public holiday again. EEeeeksss...
I'm still feeling puke-ish right now... X'cuse moi, I need to go get my paper bag.
Don't say you haven't been warned.
popcorn time
I just watched a movie. Kingdom of Heaven.
Lots of horse-riding, sword-wielding, fireball-hurling, head-severing, artery-slashing, & God-priasing moments...
I've never been a big fan of such ancient wartime shows... in fact, any wartime shows (ancient, semi-modern, modern, futuristic)... I cringe when the desire to kill & conquer is so stark-nakedly displayed on those sweat-streaked faces; when blood spurts out so freely like some free-wheeling projectile; when wounds lie so invitingly open for vultures to peck... Eeeks... Give me some sweet rose-scented romance, some deep brain-teasing thriller, some reflective tear-jerking biography, some magical potter-like story, or some Incredible cartoony animation anytime.
Oh, ancient war-time shows aside, ancient fantasy like LOTR are also out of my radar (LOTR fans, no offence pls, it's a personal thing & I totally respect ur worshipping of mr frodo and/or mr aragon and/or mr legolas), as with crude pointless sex-shows-masquerading-as-comedies type.
Call me weird/biased, but then again, Man evolves... Perhaps next time, you'd see me queuing up for a LOTR/Star Wars ticket. But then again, with that never-ending, pocket-burning hike in ticket prices, maybe not.
May The Force Be With You.
Adios.
Lots of horse-riding, sword-wielding, fireball-hurling, head-severing, artery-slashing, & God-priasing moments...
I've never been a big fan of such ancient wartime shows... in fact, any wartime shows (ancient, semi-modern, modern, futuristic)... I cringe when the desire to kill & conquer is so stark-nakedly displayed on those sweat-streaked faces; when blood spurts out so freely like some free-wheeling projectile; when wounds lie so invitingly open for vultures to peck... Eeeks... Give me some sweet rose-scented romance, some deep brain-teasing thriller, some reflective tear-jerking biography, some magical potter-like story, or some Incredible cartoony animation anytime.
Oh, ancient war-time shows aside, ancient fantasy like LOTR are also out of my radar (LOTR fans, no offence pls, it's a personal thing & I totally respect ur worshipping of mr frodo and/or mr aragon and/or mr legolas), as with crude pointless sex-shows-masquerading-as-comedies type.
Call me weird/biased, but then again, Man evolves... Perhaps next time, you'd see me queuing up for a LOTR/Star Wars ticket. But then again, with that never-ending, pocket-burning hike in ticket prices, maybe not.
May The Force Be With You.
Adios.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Energizer Baby
What a ball of bouncing energy! This little baby of 10yrs old who loves durian, Jolin Tsai, & babbles-guffaws non-stop is the purrrfecto spokesboy for EnErGIzER - the battery that never quits.
Those who are thinking of setting up a family, if u get to meet this bunny boy, u'd either be highly encouraged at the thought of conceiving such a live-wire kid, or u'd be put off parenthood forever... Intelligent & street-wise, with a highly-projectable voice & a huge dose of initiative, he is a SMALL boy with BIG potential.
I'm glad he's just a tutition kid of a good volunteer buddy of mine... Hmmm... R all 10yr old kids like that? Don't misunderstand, he's a total entertainment. I mean, I LOVE him... as long as he's not mine. =P. Haha, i know... this doesn't bode well for my own descendent line.
Goodbye dearies. I need to take the rest of the day off to recover from my encounter with Energizer Bunny Boy.
By the way, I've decided to switch to Eveready batteries for a while.
Those who are thinking of setting up a family, if u get to meet this bunny boy, u'd either be highly encouraged at the thought of conceiving such a live-wire kid, or u'd be put off parenthood forever... Intelligent & street-wise, with a highly-projectable voice & a huge dose of initiative, he is a SMALL boy with BIG potential.
I'm glad he's just a tutition kid of a good volunteer buddy of mine... Hmmm... R all 10yr old kids like that? Don't misunderstand, he's a total entertainment. I mean, I LOVE him... as long as he's not mine. =P. Haha, i know... this doesn't bode well for my own descendent line.
Goodbye dearies. I need to take the rest of the day off to recover from my encounter with Energizer Bunny Boy.
By the way, I've decided to switch to Eveready batteries for a while.
Friday, May 20, 2005
What a ...
What a BiG, BoRiNg workaholic I am (or can sometimes be)...
Today, *god bless the king*, we are granted a half-day holiday as a result of our stunning volleyball girls' performance 9 days ago. But *@#&*%^... instead of hanging out at the volleyball court like I said I would, I'm now stuck here in this freaking cold & empty office, running through mountains of files cramped full with pages of un-intelligent, blood & vomit-inducing writing. DaMn.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm psychotic in some ways - work so bloody hard, yet hmmm... also derive certain pleasure from the whole episode.
Freako perfectionist. =P.
Maybe I should just go home and sleep now.
Today, *god bless the king*, we are granted a half-day holiday as a result of our stunning volleyball girls' performance 9 days ago. But *@#&*%^... instead of hanging out at the volleyball court like I said I would, I'm now stuck here in this freaking cold & empty office, running through mountains of files cramped full with pages of un-intelligent, blood & vomit-inducing writing. DaMn.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm psychotic in some ways - work so bloody hard, yet hmmm... also derive certain pleasure from the whole episode.
Freako perfectionist. =P.
Maybe I should just go home and sleep now.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Piggin' Out
If I swallow one more mouthful of food, I'd puke like Ms Merlion all over this computer screen...
Today's a swinging-single-colleague's birthday. Some of us went to The Line @ Shangri La for a small celebration. It's a newly opened buffet place, open-concept - u can eyeball those hunky chefs as they whip up ur pasta & shell ur oysters. There's so much food... it's almost a SiN to look at them & think of wanting to try them all. It's Mission Impossible.
Seafood & Shooters, Salads & Cheeze, Japanese, Italino, BBQ & Grill, Chinese, Dim Sum, Indian, Malay, Roasts, Fondue & Ice-cream, Cakes & Kuehs... I could go on forever... Bewildered, I know not where to start. Chomp chomp, slurp slurp, munch much, lick lick. The buffet was such a distraction, we almost forgot the Birthday King.
But to be frank about it, this gastronomic critic doesn't think the food is all that great. The variety is mind-boggling, yes. But the taste is generally so-so lah. Some are really nice e.g. the grilled crayfish, soothing double-boiled wintermelon soup, & dark chocolate fondue... you must surely try. But some others deserve only a single serving (thou shalt not mention names).
Nonetheless, it's an overall goody foody experience, provided u have the cash to spare. It made me $65+++ poorer.. But heck, its a friend's birthday (yup, HE is the focus), & there's reasonable service too (wet towels were provided the minute they saw me 'unladylike-ly' using my hands to shell those chilled prawns).
BURRPPP...
I've said my share.
Happy Piggin' Out.
Today's a swinging-single-colleague's birthday. Some of us went to The Line @ Shangri La for a small celebration. It's a newly opened buffet place, open-concept - u can eyeball those hunky chefs as they whip up ur pasta & shell ur oysters. There's so much food... it's almost a SiN to look at them & think of wanting to try them all. It's Mission Impossible.
Seafood & Shooters, Salads & Cheeze, Japanese, Italino, BBQ & Grill, Chinese, Dim Sum, Indian, Malay, Roasts, Fondue & Ice-cream, Cakes & Kuehs... I could go on forever... Bewildered, I know not where to start. Chomp chomp, slurp slurp, munch much, lick lick. The buffet was such a distraction, we almost forgot the Birthday King.
But to be frank about it, this gastronomic critic doesn't think the food is all that great. The variety is mind-boggling, yes. But the taste is generally so-so lah. Some are really nice e.g. the grilled crayfish, soothing double-boiled wintermelon soup, & dark chocolate fondue... you must surely try. But some others deserve only a single serving (thou shalt not mention names).
Nonetheless, it's an overall goody foody experience, provided u have the cash to spare. It made me $65+++ poorer.. But heck, its a friend's birthday (yup, HE is the focus), & there's reasonable service too (wet towels were provided the minute they saw me 'unladylike-ly' using my hands to shell those chilled prawns).
BURRPPP...
I've said my share.
Happy Piggin' Out.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
The Art of Self-Delusion
How many times have we tried to convince ourselves that:
- we still have time for a 5min snuggle in bed... when the alarm clock has howled till hoarse, & we are way late for work?
- we are still young & can afford to stay up late... when we'd spend the next few days recuperating & smoothing out those big black eye-bags?
- we can still wait for another 2 more years before launching an all-out search for life partners... when we are really, already way past our "sell-by" date?
- we still have time for a slow mirror check... when our friends are already impatiently waiting & cursing at some shopping mall?
- our parents are going to be with us for many more years... when they are already old, weak & emotionally spent?
- our bodies are as fit as before... when we pant like derelict dogs after a mere 200m jog?
- we are mature, experienced and responsible adults... when we don't even know how to treat our bodies well, & continue to hasten death by suffocating our lungs with black sticky tar, and drowning our livers with toxic alcohol?
- ...
- ...
The Art of Self-Delusion. We are all experts.
- we still have time for a 5min snuggle in bed... when the alarm clock has howled till hoarse, & we are way late for work?
- we are still young & can afford to stay up late... when we'd spend the next few days recuperating & smoothing out those big black eye-bags?
- we can still wait for another 2 more years before launching an all-out search for life partners... when we are really, already way past our "sell-by" date?
- we still have time for a slow mirror check... when our friends are already impatiently waiting & cursing at some shopping mall?
- our parents are going to be with us for many more years... when they are already old, weak & emotionally spent?
- our bodies are as fit as before... when we pant like derelict dogs after a mere 200m jog?
- we are mature, experienced and responsible adults... when we don't even know how to treat our bodies well, & continue to hasten death by suffocating our lungs with black sticky tar, and drowning our livers with toxic alcohol?
- ...
- ...
The Art of Self-Delusion. We are all experts.
Breakfast, anyone?
Early this morning, an office staff called and grunted, "Hey, come down & get ur breakfast!". I was like... DuH?? At that moment, I was munching my self-prepared honey-oats-cheese sandwich & slurping my extra-strong kopi... WhAt ExTrA BrEakFaST?? WhO?? ApRiL FoOlS?? SoMe sEcReT AdMiReR fRoM mY sAmE oRgAniZaTiOn? SoMe sTRanGeR wHo ReAD mY PrEvIOuS BloG AbT DeAd FrEnShIPs & WaNnA TeLL mE tHeRe'S sTiLL LOVE oN eArTH?
As I hopped down the stairs leading to the office excitedly, almost tripping over in my haste, I second-guessed who breakfast-delivery-man/woman could have been... & BiNgO! One of my faithful buddies of course, who can always be counted on to spring such appropriately-timed suprises. It's a simple but heartfelt breakfast of egg tart & cream puff. Perhaps he thought I could do with some sweetening in my life. Indeed. After that dead-friendship blog yesterday, he probably thought he was the one I was describing. But hey, worry not dear wolf buddy, it is not you who's out of this Amazing (Friendship) Race.
In the same breathe as I lament the passing of some treasured friendship, I celebrate the continuity of many wonderful fellowships. I know there are MANY of you out there who truly care & love moi. Like someone once said, "Friends are like stars, you may not always see them, but they are always around somewhere". I understand this, so everyone who's reading this blog right now, pls do not feel pressured & start delivering breakfasts & lunches & dinners to me. (I have to watch my weight you know.)
I love you all. Egg tarts & Cream puffs love you too.
p.s. wolf buddy, thank you for this kind, thoughtful gesture. I wish you well.
As I hopped down the stairs leading to the office excitedly, almost tripping over in my haste, I second-guessed who breakfast-delivery-man/woman could have been... & BiNgO! One of my faithful buddies of course, who can always be counted on to spring such appropriately-timed suprises. It's a simple but heartfelt breakfast of egg tart & cream puff. Perhaps he thought I could do with some sweetening in my life. Indeed. After that dead-friendship blog yesterday, he probably thought he was the one I was describing. But hey, worry not dear wolf buddy, it is not you who's out of this Amazing (Friendship) Race.
In the same breathe as I lament the passing of some treasured friendship, I celebrate the continuity of many wonderful fellowships. I know there are MANY of you out there who truly care & love moi. Like someone once said, "Friends are like stars, you may not always see them, but they are always around somewhere". I understand this, so everyone who's reading this blog right now, pls do not feel pressured & start delivering breakfasts & lunches & dinners to me. (I have to watch my weight you know.)
I love you all. Egg tarts & Cream puffs love you too.
p.s. wolf buddy, thank you for this kind, thoughtful gesture. I wish you well.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Rest In Peace
I can literally smell it.
The rotten stench of a dying friendship. Or make that two friendships.
I can see them wilting, day by day.. disintegrating & decomposing into two big lumps of compost, to be eventually surrounded by irritating, buzzing flies.. & conquered by wriggling, slimy creepy crawlies..
It's funny how people can become such fast, inseparable soulmates one minute, then absolute strangers the next. From the ability & willingness to indulge each other with so much time & support... to a state where a mere impassionate "hello" has to be painfully squeezed out... I can only watch in despair as I see my once-buddy hang out with others, with the same intensity & passion as she once shared with me. As a spectator, I can only quietly sob.
There were no quarrels, no clashes of interests. It was an almost ghostly, spontaneous divergence from our common dot. As suddenly as bonds were forged, they were broken. It occured so naturally, it freaked the hell out of me. If this can happen once, it can happen twice, and again, and again, to one, to two, to many many many more...
Life is transient; friendships are a subset of life, so friendships are transient too. Live life with passion; make friends with passion too. Celebrate life; don't forget to celebrate death too. For death means a release from all worldly troubles & pains.
Celebrate death. Thou shalt not cry.
The rotten stench of a dying friendship. Or make that two friendships.
I can see them wilting, day by day.. disintegrating & decomposing into two big lumps of compost, to be eventually surrounded by irritating, buzzing flies.. & conquered by wriggling, slimy creepy crawlies..
It's funny how people can become such fast, inseparable soulmates one minute, then absolute strangers the next. From the ability & willingness to indulge each other with so much time & support... to a state where a mere impassionate "hello" has to be painfully squeezed out... I can only watch in despair as I see my once-buddy hang out with others, with the same intensity & passion as she once shared with me. As a spectator, I can only quietly sob.
There were no quarrels, no clashes of interests. It was an almost ghostly, spontaneous divergence from our common dot. As suddenly as bonds were forged, they were broken. It occured so naturally, it freaked the hell out of me. If this can happen once, it can happen twice, and again, and again, to one, to two, to many many many more...
Life is transient; friendships are a subset of life, so friendships are transient too. Live life with passion; make friends with passion too. Celebrate life; don't forget to celebrate death too. For death means a release from all worldly troubles & pains.
Celebrate death. Thou shalt not cry.
Monday, May 16, 2005
all changed
In the past... when my friends called and my dad answered, they'd think it was my younger brother or my younger cousin or some illegal, underaged boyfriend who had picked up the phone. Then, my dad's thick hair was beautifully jet black & neatly combed, with nary a strand out of place. His tummy would expand visibly after every weekend, the result of all the yummy dishes my mum whipped up in the short space of 2 days. Our whole family would count down to weekends & holidays with much anticipation, as they mean sinfully enjoyable trots all over the island searching out the best makan places, & luxuriously lazy family bonding times.
Now... my friends can hear the age in my dad's voice. His hair has thinned & whitened tremendously, & many times, was not well-combed. His tummy is consistenly flat, as pots & pans lay silently grieving in the kitchen. We fear the weekends & holidays, as the pain would double & the house would drown in its own shrouds of silence.
Life is no longer the same, & never will be. Places we used to frequent, we'd never again go. This sunday would have been my parents' 28th wedding anniversary. It will be a charcoal black day. Maybe she'd cry from the heavens... let's see if it rains.
I wonder if there's any one death on Earth where NO ONE is saddened by his passing. He'd have been the world's Eighth Wonder.
Now... my friends can hear the age in my dad's voice. His hair has thinned & whitened tremendously, & many times, was not well-combed. His tummy is consistenly flat, as pots & pans lay silently grieving in the kitchen. We fear the weekends & holidays, as the pain would double & the house would drown in its own shrouds of silence.
Life is no longer the same, & never will be. Places we used to frequent, we'd never again go. This sunday would have been my parents' 28th wedding anniversary. It will be a charcoal black day. Maybe she'd cry from the heavens... let's see if it rains.
I wonder if there's any one death on Earth where NO ONE is saddened by his passing. He'd have been the world's Eighth Wonder.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
One yellow bookworm...
It's difficult to explain what newspapers do to me. Its like what chocolate fondue does to those sweet-toothed ladies (& men).
Today's Sunday Times is a good therapeutic treat. In about an hour & a half, I exercised all senses of being.
When I read about:
- how the late Dr Wee Kim Wee's doggie He Ping pined in vain for her master in the study room they once shared... My eye sockets became mysteriously flooded with natural saline.
- how casino mogul, Steve Wynn, all hot and bothered over the apparant micro-management over casino-design issues, told government officials "But you don't tell an expert how to do an expert's job. You ask"... I almost fell off the chair as I bellowed with peals of respectful laughter.
- how chairman of A*STAR, Mr Philip Yeo, said "i want Arnold Schwarzenegger types.. who are fighters and thinkers.. not first-class scholars looking like water lilies.. yellowish bookworms..", & "I don't want whinning Singapore boys.. they give me so much trouble and waste our precious time"... I grimaced & did a 3-min soul-searching. Am I Missy Arnold or Miserable Wormy?
- how more and more naive souls get sued over defamatory remarks made on their blogs... I froze with fright & instantly scanned all memory files for hints of insubordination & malice. "BLOG NO EVIL" - I had been warned. Perhaps, like what was advised in the papers today, "the most secure blog you have is the Microsoft Word in your C drive".
Sue me not. I am merely a yellow bookworm savoring my chocolate fondue.
Today's Sunday Times is a good therapeutic treat. In about an hour & a half, I exercised all senses of being.
When I read about:
- how the late Dr Wee Kim Wee's doggie He Ping pined in vain for her master in the study room they once shared... My eye sockets became mysteriously flooded with natural saline.
- how casino mogul, Steve Wynn, all hot and bothered over the apparant micro-management over casino-design issues, told government officials "But you don't tell an expert how to do an expert's job. You ask"... I almost fell off the chair as I bellowed with peals of respectful laughter.
- how chairman of A*STAR, Mr Philip Yeo, said "i want Arnold Schwarzenegger types.. who are fighters and thinkers.. not first-class scholars looking like water lilies.. yellowish bookworms..", & "I don't want whinning Singapore boys.. they give me so much trouble and waste our precious time"... I grimaced & did a 3-min soul-searching. Am I Missy Arnold or Miserable Wormy?
- how more and more naive souls get sued over defamatory remarks made on their blogs... I froze with fright & instantly scanned all memory files for hints of insubordination & malice. "BLOG NO EVIL" - I had been warned. Perhaps, like what was advised in the papers today, "the most secure blog you have is the Microsoft Word in your C drive".
Sue me not. I am merely a yellow bookworm savoring my chocolate fondue.
Saturday, May 14, 2005
We Know Best
WE KNOW BEST, SO WE WILL DECIDE:
- who will get a state funeral...
- that all of you shall drop your "lahs" and speak proper english...
- to build the casinos, not just one but TWO, & you will call them Integrated Resorts...
- ...
- ...
- ...
Sure, you can discuss, you can feedback, you can sign petitions. If you feel strongly about issues, you SHOULD tell us your views.
BUT really, WE KNOW BEST, SO WE WILL DECIDE, alrights?
- who will get a state funeral...
- that all of you shall drop your "lahs" and speak proper english...
- to build the casinos, not just one but TWO, & you will call them Integrated Resorts...
- ...
- ...
- ...
Sure, you can discuss, you can feedback, you can sign petitions. If you feel strongly about issues, you SHOULD tell us your views.
BUT really, WE KNOW BEST, SO WE WILL DECIDE, alrights?
Friday, May 13, 2005
One Man Sitting...
On many mornings, as i make my way to work, my public/private transport would cruise along this street, and i would see this one man sitting... on a wheelchair, just 3m from the edge of the road, forlonly gazing at the cars whizzing by. He is a heavy set, slightly aged man of ~60yrs old, wrinkled spotted arms heavily placed on the arm-rests, a checkered dirty-blue cap absently positioned (on his shiny bald pate?), a yellow-white singlet (white swan brand?) peeking out from his dark buttoned-down short sleeved shirt, dark grey long pants draped over his immobile limbs... he cuts a rather sorry sight.
I'm not quite sure why he is there on these many mornings (or perhaps he is there EVERY morning, it's just that i'm looking and not seeing)... Is he waiting for his personal transport to go somewhere? Is he actively sorting out his day's schedule while sitting there? Is he seeking solace in the bustling crowd of cars & pedestrains and trying to convince himself that he is not alone? Is he waiting for someone to help him cross the road? Is he..... thinking of ending it all? Does he have family? Do they know of his morning ritual?
Several times, i wanted to get off my transport, walk to him and ask.. But i do not want to intrude - it seemed almost like a private, religious rite for him (or maybe this is just a terrible excuse i give to make myself feel better).
Many times we look but do not see. We hear but do not listen.
When one day i no longer find him at his spot, i know i'd feel something.
Would you walk to him tomorrow if you were me??
I'm not quite sure why he is there on these many mornings (or perhaps he is there EVERY morning, it's just that i'm looking and not seeing)... Is he waiting for his personal transport to go somewhere? Is he actively sorting out his day's schedule while sitting there? Is he seeking solace in the bustling crowd of cars & pedestrains and trying to convince himself that he is not alone? Is he waiting for someone to help him cross the road? Is he..... thinking of ending it all? Does he have family? Do they know of his morning ritual?
Several times, i wanted to get off my transport, walk to him and ask.. But i do not want to intrude - it seemed almost like a private, religious rite for him (or maybe this is just a terrible excuse i give to make myself feel better).
Many times we look but do not see. We hear but do not listen.
When one day i no longer find him at his spot, i know i'd feel something.
Would you walk to him tomorrow if you were me??
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Electrifying with a capital 'E'
Hairs standing, head throbbing, ears ringing, butt precariously hanging from edge of seat, muscles cramped tight, big eyes glazed, multiple blood vessels doing their pulsating 3D wave-dance.
I nearly forgot to breathe... It was that good.
The deafening cheers that resonated around Toa Payoh stadium made me feel younger by at least a decade. Looking around at those young ones, i feel myself transported back to college days. Heck. I stood & cheered like I just reached sweet sixteen. My then-councillors would have been proud.
And... We WON! Those ladies got their balls. Volleyball champions, everyone of them. Whilst I'm typing this, I'm also putting on my aged Nike rubber-soles. I have great plans in mind. I'm going to skip dinner & look for some National Women Under-50 Volleyball Team to join. Wish me luck. I wanna kick some a** too, & have 800++ beserk supporters behind me while I tame those balls.
Congratulations. The first big win in 2 years. Well-done girls, you've made us proud of you. Hopefully, we get a half day off because of you. Then, you can find me at the volleyball court, in my high-cut shorts & rubber soles.
*clap clap whistle whistle*
Till next year.
I'd tell you if i make it to the Under-50 team.
I nearly forgot to breathe... It was that good.
The deafening cheers that resonated around Toa Payoh stadium made me feel younger by at least a decade. Looking around at those young ones, i feel myself transported back to college days. Heck. I stood & cheered like I just reached sweet sixteen. My then-councillors would have been proud.
And... We WON! Those ladies got their balls. Volleyball champions, everyone of them. Whilst I'm typing this, I'm also putting on my aged Nike rubber-soles. I have great plans in mind. I'm going to skip dinner & look for some National Women Under-50 Volleyball Team to join. Wish me luck. I wanna kick some a** too, & have 800++ beserk supporters behind me while I tame those balls.
Congratulations. The first big win in 2 years. Well-done girls, you've made us proud of you. Hopefully, we get a half day off because of you. Then, you can find me at the volleyball court, in my high-cut shorts & rubber soles.
*clap clap whistle whistle*
Till next year.
I'd tell you if i make it to the Under-50 team.
Make Ur Own MiLk
I'm one step closer to setting up my own soya bean milk shop...
A girlfriend based in Copenhagen read my blog, & is so moved by my desire to rival that Geylang stall that she relented & shared her heirloom, home-made soya milk recipe. And I, being the ever so generous lovely soul, with her blessings (hence copyrights issue cleared), decide to share it here with you.
Perhaps we can milk it together.
The 2005 Idiot's Guide To Making Fresh Soya Bean Milk
1) Buy yellow beans (huang dou). [actually i believe she meant "soya" beans, instead of truly YELLOW "yellow" beans... you know, it's just like how people sometimes instinctively refer to ROAST chicken as "BLACK" chicken]
2) Soak yellow beans in water overnight.
3) Add bloated yellow beans, with half mug of water into blender. Depending on thickness of milk desired, adjust volume of water added.
4) Pour mixture into saucepan, bring to boil and add sugar to taste.
5) Voila! Now open your mouth & savour that milk.
I think i'm just a whisker away from becoming a soya millionaire. When that day comes, I'd reward you with a cup of soya everytime you read my blog.
Hail the Soya Queen!
A girlfriend based in Copenhagen read my blog, & is so moved by my desire to rival that Geylang stall that she relented & shared her heirloom, home-made soya milk recipe. And I, being the ever so generous lovely soul, with her blessings (hence copyrights issue cleared), decide to share it here with you.
Perhaps we can milk it together.
The 2005 Idiot's Guide To Making Fresh Soya Bean Milk
1) Buy yellow beans (huang dou). [actually i believe she meant "soya" beans, instead of truly YELLOW "yellow" beans... you know, it's just like how people sometimes instinctively refer to ROAST chicken as "BLACK" chicken]
2) Soak yellow beans in water overnight.
3) Add bloated yellow beans, with half mug of water into blender. Depending on thickness of milk desired, adjust volume of water added.
4) Pour mixture into saucepan, bring to boil and add sugar to taste.
5) Voila! Now open your mouth & savour that milk.
I think i'm just a whisker away from becoming a soya millionaire. When that day comes, I'd reward you with a cup of soya everytime you read my blog.
Hail the Soya Queen!
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
dO nOt tYpE!
Do NOT type. Experts say our thumbs will grow flatter & uglier & delicate nerves will swell & break if we keep sms-ing. Yet still, tippety tippety type...
Do NOT type. Our backs will ache, our eyes will tear, our power bills will rocket if we keep surfing/emailing/chatting/blogging. Yet still, tippety tippety type...
Do NOT type. Long before Mr Gates & Mr Jobs got their job, our papas and grandpapas were using their rickety tippety typewriters. And still, tippety tippety type...
Oh Hell! It's already late into the nite, so just STOP typing!! Yet still... TiPPeTy, tIpPeTY, tYPe!!
gOOdNiGhTs.
Do NOT type. Our backs will ache, our eyes will tear, our power bills will rocket if we keep surfing/emailing/chatting/blogging. Yet still, tippety tippety type...
Do NOT type. Long before Mr Gates & Mr Jobs got their job, our papas and grandpapas were using their rickety tippety typewriters. And still, tippety tippety type...
Oh Hell! It's already late into the nite, so just STOP typing!! Yet still... TiPPeTy, tIpPeTY, tYPe!!
gOOdNiGhTs.
Monday, May 09, 2005
It's the timing silly...
Raise your hand, those of you who haven't got a boyfriend/girlfriend. Now, look around. Yep, a sea of hands. Reason? TIMING.
Right person, wrong time = WRONG person
Wrong person, right time = RIGHT person
Life is this fair.
If you are:
- Available
- Bold
- Charming
- Diligent
- Enthusiastic
- Focused
- Generous
- Humorous
- Independent
- Japan-Hour fan
- Knowledgable
- Listens well
- Money-smart
- N-quiring mind
- Optimistic
- Persistent
- Quick-thinking
- Responsible
- Sporty
- Tactful
- Understanding
- Values-guided
- Withstand stress
- Xtra loving towards family
- Yummy
- Zest twds life
YOU are the RIGHT person, so, please just come at the RIGHT time.
Like I said:
Right person, wrong time = WRONG person
Wrong person, right time = RIGHT person
(& may I now add..)
Wrong person, wrong time = WASTE TIME
But HOLY COW. Looking back at my A to Z... *%&#@$*... I think I may be condemned to a life of nun-hood.
Urs truly,
Ms Right.
Right person, wrong time = WRONG person
Wrong person, right time = RIGHT person
Life is this fair.
If you are:
- Available
- Bold
- Charming
- Diligent
- Enthusiastic
- Focused
- Generous
- Humorous
- Independent
- Japan-Hour fan
- Knowledgable
- Listens well
- Money-smart
- N-quiring mind
- Optimistic
- Persistent
- Quick-thinking
- Responsible
- Sporty
- Tactful
- Understanding
- Values-guided
- Withstand stress
- Xtra loving towards family
- Yummy
- Zest twds life
YOU are the RIGHT person, so, please just come at the RIGHT time.
Like I said:
Right person, wrong time = WRONG person
Wrong person, right time = RIGHT person
(& may I now add..)
Wrong person, wrong time = WASTE TIME
But HOLY COW. Looking back at my A to Z... *%&#@$*... I think I may be condemned to a life of nun-hood.
Urs truly,
Ms Right.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
she's HERE!
yippeeEEE! she IS here, my japanese fren's arrived in s'pore, and as i'm typing this now, she's in my bathroom, scrubbing away those dead cells flattened by the long hours of flight... =)
5 yrs, but other than a little more flesh ard the waist, & some laugh lines along the sides, she's the same dear old mika, full of warmth & sincerity, & of loud exclamations in typical japanese fashion (with all due respect). I mean, meeting up after all these time is, in her words, "totally AWESOME"!
Brought her to geylang for the soya milk + you tiao + dumplings + pork floss pancake + soupy vermicelli. & you won't believe this, but at 2am on a thursday morning, that darn soya place is still packed full!! man... if only my mama has taught me how to make soya milk... I'd quit my job right now. Period.
As they say, good things don't last. Mika's flying back tomorrow. Yep, Singapore's her transit stop. Think STB'd be sad to know that despite all these $$$ pumped in, tourists are still NOT staying beyond 3 pitiful days.. Maybe that's why they are building that HoRrIFiC casino. It's excruciating to even type that word. C..A..S..I..N..O.. Kill Me.
Before she flies back, I'd make sure she try some oyster omelette, satay, bbq chic wings, hokkien mee, chilli mussels, sugar cane juice... & the all-so-potent DURIAN! I've been such a wonderful host, i'm sure she'd hate to disappoint.
So u there, while u're reading this the next day, i'd be in seventh heaven (not quite near my mum, but surely near those out-of-e-world dishes). God bless us.
5 yrs, but other than a little more flesh ard the waist, & some laugh lines along the sides, she's the same dear old mika, full of warmth & sincerity, & of loud exclamations in typical japanese fashion (with all due respect). I mean, meeting up after all these time is, in her words, "totally AWESOME"!
Brought her to geylang for the soya milk + you tiao + dumplings + pork floss pancake + soupy vermicelli. & you won't believe this, but at 2am on a thursday morning, that darn soya place is still packed full!! man... if only my mama has taught me how to make soya milk... I'd quit my job right now. Period.
As they say, good things don't last. Mika's flying back tomorrow. Yep, Singapore's her transit stop. Think STB'd be sad to know that despite all these $$$ pumped in, tourists are still NOT staying beyond 3 pitiful days.. Maybe that's why they are building that HoRrIFiC casino. It's excruciating to even type that word. C..A..S..I..N..O.. Kill Me.
Before she flies back, I'd make sure she try some oyster omelette, satay, bbq chic wings, hokkien mee, chilli mussels, sugar cane juice... & the all-so-potent DURIAN! I've been such a wonderful host, i'm sure she'd hate to disappoint.
So u there, while u're reading this the next day, i'd be in seventh heaven (not quite near my mum, but surely near those out-of-e-world dishes). God bless us.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Exploding Toads..
Read on, I'm not faking this...
In Northern Europe, at a pond in Hamburg and in central Jutland, Denmark, more than 1000 toads had been found dead, with their body punctured, blood vessels and lungs burst, splattered all over the ground/pond.. It a literal X-pLoSiON. No joke.
Some swore it was done by those freaky ALIENS, just like how those huge weird patterns on U.S maize fields turned up overnight some yrs ago. Some bet their monies on the natural science of prey-predation - crows swopping down & pecking those ill-fated crows at their livers, puncturing their skin. Some... simply can't be bothered.
Me? I'm an intellectual scientist. I go by the "crow-peck-thus-frogs-puff-themselves-up-&-explode" theory. Anyway, come on, spare those remaining toads/frogs some sympathy eh, go easy on those "fried frog legs with spring onion" and "frog legs porridge" for a while, & let the poor species regenerate alrights? Accumulate good karma...
My sincere condolences to all you toadies who have lost ur loved ones in this unprecedented tragedy.
In Northern Europe, at a pond in Hamburg and in central Jutland, Denmark, more than 1000 toads had been found dead, with their body punctured, blood vessels and lungs burst, splattered all over the ground/pond.. It a literal X-pLoSiON. No joke.
Some swore it was done by those freaky ALIENS, just like how those huge weird patterns on U.S maize fields turned up overnight some yrs ago. Some bet their monies on the natural science of prey-predation - crows swopping down & pecking those ill-fated crows at their livers, puncturing their skin. Some... simply can't be bothered.
Me? I'm an intellectual scientist. I go by the "crow-peck-thus-frogs-puff-themselves-up-&-explode" theory. Anyway, come on, spare those remaining toads/frogs some sympathy eh, go easy on those "fried frog legs with spring onion" and "frog legs porridge" for a while, & let the poor species regenerate alrights? Accumulate good karma...
My sincere condolences to all you toadies who have lost ur loved ones in this unprecedented tragedy.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Kopi Roti
Yesterday night, I met up with a JC pal, let's call him albert.
Nice chap, got married last yr. He's always been more of the eccentric, aloof kind. Back in college days, he plays the violin, wears bright red socks with white shoes (his fav color is still red), don't do tutorials, & zonk off during lectures religiously... So its kinda funny that he is now the MARRIED one, and doing full-time scientific RESEARCH as his job.
He's a dear friend. And i'm honoured to be part of a select few he maintains contact with. Over kopi & roti yesterday night, we bonded once more. A little over an hr & a half, yet more than a tonne off my chest. Thank YOU albert.
Nice chap, got married last yr. He's always been more of the eccentric, aloof kind. Back in college days, he plays the violin, wears bright red socks with white shoes (his fav color is still red), don't do tutorials, & zonk off during lectures religiously... So its kinda funny that he is now the MARRIED one, and doing full-time scientific RESEARCH as his job.
He's a dear friend. And i'm honoured to be part of a select few he maintains contact with. Over kopi & roti yesterday night, we bonded once more. A little over an hr & a half, yet more than a tonne off my chest. Thank YOU albert.
Monday, May 02, 2005
Passing Life
In... DEEP... GRIEF. Beneath the strong exterior, I'm a lump of disintegrated sand.
It's been exactly 2 months since mum's gone. But really, the pain is still as fresh, and as deep as when it had just happened. Or even fresher... deeper. It is impossible to spend a day without thinking about her. EVERYTHING triggers something... whether it's the waft from homecooked dishes from her self-proclaimed "competitor" below, the hellos from our friendly neighbour-maid hanging clothes next door, the backview of the old aunty whom she religiously gave vegetables to next block, the fruits she'd scrutinize & poke at in the market fruit stalls, the cheap loose-cut culottes she'd buy from the small heartland shops, everything... in the house, out of the house, everywhere. Is her.
This is going to be difficult. ReALLy DiFfICuLT. The suddeness of it all makes it very tragic. very difficult to accept. and move on. If I had the chance to do everything just one more time with her, perhaps it would have been easier for me. But then again, if I have the say, I'd want to do everything not just once, but twice, but thrice, and more and more times all over again with her... forgive my greed... maybe, just let me bring her out to eat at the "la mian" place once more, let me buy vegetarian pizza for her once more, let me help her dye her hair once more, cut her toenails for her once more, and let her make a trip to the U.S to see her beloved little brother once more...
My dad is not one who verbalizes his feelings. He is not one who knows how to console. He suffers, in silence. And in turn, he leaves others to suffer, in silence.
I'm brought up to be strong and independent. Many are proud of me this way. My friends, teachers, colleagues, relatives and everyone else believe I can make it through this, just give me time. But hell... I've flirted with the thought. Until the day i find a new direction, i'm a goner.
It's been exactly 2 months since mum's gone. But really, the pain is still as fresh, and as deep as when it had just happened. Or even fresher... deeper. It is impossible to spend a day without thinking about her. EVERYTHING triggers something... whether it's the waft from homecooked dishes from her self-proclaimed "competitor" below, the hellos from our friendly neighbour-maid hanging clothes next door, the backview of the old aunty whom she religiously gave vegetables to next block, the fruits she'd scrutinize & poke at in the market fruit stalls, the cheap loose-cut culottes she'd buy from the small heartland shops, everything... in the house, out of the house, everywhere. Is her.
This is going to be difficult. ReALLy DiFfICuLT. The suddeness of it all makes it very tragic. very difficult to accept. and move on. If I had the chance to do everything just one more time with her, perhaps it would have been easier for me. But then again, if I have the say, I'd want to do everything not just once, but twice, but thrice, and more and more times all over again with her... forgive my greed... maybe, just let me bring her out to eat at the "la mian" place once more, let me buy vegetarian pizza for her once more, let me help her dye her hair once more, cut her toenails for her once more, and let her make a trip to the U.S to see her beloved little brother once more...
My dad is not one who verbalizes his feelings. He is not one who knows how to console. He suffers, in silence. And in turn, he leaves others to suffer, in silence.
I'm brought up to be strong and independent. Many are proud of me this way. My friends, teachers, colleagues, relatives and everyone else believe I can make it through this, just give me time. But hell... I've flirted with the thought. Until the day i find a new direction, i'm a goner.
after 5 long years
a friend from a different part of my life history is coming to visit. she comes from 5 yrs ago, from a different continent, speaks a different language (apart from the all-universal english), & has never before set foot on our tiny red dot...
a lot has changed in these 5 long years. i wonder if we'd still be able to horse around like we did, play dress-up, eye some hunks, swallow some choc, down some beers, act important. those were the days, in faraway land, where everything is fReSH & nICe. No worries, no nothing. Just eat, play, study, see, live, breathe. Go Nude Beach, walk around, eye sea gulls, hear them sing, and hope to spot some naked souls. Those were the days...
I look forward to seeing her. Partly hoping it'd bring some warmth, in this period of depressing cold.
a lot has changed in these 5 long years. i wonder if we'd still be able to horse around like we did, play dress-up, eye some hunks, swallow some choc, down some beers, act important. those were the days, in faraway land, where everything is fReSH & nICe. No worries, no nothing. Just eat, play, study, see, live, breathe. Go Nude Beach, walk around, eye sea gulls, hear them sing, and hope to spot some naked souls. Those were the days...
I look forward to seeing her. Partly hoping it'd bring some warmth, in this period of depressing cold.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Pick a flower, pull its petals...
Friends are a funny business. Sometimes when u miss them & am in dire need of company for some good irish beer, they are all just oh-so-tied-up with their own stuff & u'd feel so TOTALLY alone... yet the very next min when u've found things to occupy ur listless wandering mind & am happily minding ur own business, all the sms-es come in & ask u out for kopi & teh & durian & bak kut teh.. This must be some kind of joke.
Pick a flower, pull off its petals. Miss me... miss me not... Love me... love me not. HeCK.
The weather's just changed. From red hot chilli pepper humid with nary a cloud in sight to big black ugly cloud lumps with still nary a breeze to ruffle those sweat-wet hairs on arm... Darn weather.
Pick a flower, pull off its petals. Miss me... miss me not... Love me... love me not. HeCK.
The weather's just changed. From red hot chilli pepper humid with nary a cloud in sight to big black ugly cloud lumps with still nary a breeze to ruffle those sweat-wet hairs on arm... Darn weather.
the beginning (of an end?)
first step. baby step.
ppl say: "when u arrive in this world, u are crying, everyone is laughing; when u leave, u are smiling, everyone else is crying..". beautiful irony.
imagine... in a hospital building, nth floor is for births - beautiful wailing creatures; and the very next floor, nth+1 floor, for the impending dead - silent fighting souls... Should u smile or should u cry, when u are in the lift trapped between the 2 floors? why do we celebrate birth, and mourn death, when every person who is born will eventually die?
first step. baby step. GIANT step.
i wonder how i'm going to walk out thru this wilderness...
ppl say: "when u arrive in this world, u are crying, everyone is laughing; when u leave, u are smiling, everyone else is crying..". beautiful irony.
imagine... in a hospital building, nth floor is for births - beautiful wailing creatures; and the very next floor, nth+1 floor, for the impending dead - silent fighting souls... Should u smile or should u cry, when u are in the lift trapped between the 2 floors? why do we celebrate birth, and mourn death, when every person who is born will eventually die?
first step. baby step. GIANT step.
i wonder how i'm going to walk out thru this wilderness...
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