Women should be obscene and not heard

Egging sight

2010-02-12T10:36:00.004+01:00

Do eggs change colour with the season? I was quite shocked to discover these albino eggs when I hurriedly checked my purchase upon returning from the supermarket, silently cursing myself for forgetting to do so (again) in the store. I once stupidly bought a tray with 2 broken eggs and the smell and sight of other grocery items in the same bag weren't very pretty. Not to mention the nagging session afterwards.

My excitement of discovering winter eggs was abruptly killed when Peterpan said that chicken eggs in Holland come in many shades, whatever season it is. Wah total killjoy. Call me kampung, but I really haven't seen white chicken eggs before. Only white duck eggs, and they're salted.

The white egg shells are more brittle than the brown ones though. I tested by frying one after the other. (excuse to eat 2 eggs at one go woot) So there must be an explanation! *googles*

Findings: The difference between brown eggs and white eggs is purely cosmetic; it's just a matter of a baby taking after its mother. Hens with white feathers and white earlobes will lay white eggs, whereas hens with red feathers and matching-coloured earlobes give us brown eggs. There's no taste or nutritional difference.

Nothing mentioned about the strength of eggshells though. Nevermind. I still love my eggs in all shapes, sizes and colours.

Sleepless in Subang

2010-02-08T18:12:00.002+01:00

Jetlag.
Sometimes it hits you like a feather, sometimes a bulldozer.
This is my third night back in Malaysia and I hope I can sleep at normal hours... soon.
Else by the time my system straightens itself out it'd be time for re-adjusting again.
Nothing's stopping the endless eating though.
Om nom nom nom nom.

Lush rush

2009-12-12T17:32:00.005+01:00

I had a Lush rush two months ago. You'll always know when a Lush store is near, their smell automatically make their presence known. Usually that gets me really excited, except when my nose is being difficult and sensitive, then I'd be sneezing non-stop and cursing. Anyway, I like their concept, and once in a while I'd give myself a little treat and choose something.

Back in London I was crazy about their lemon nail and cuticle cream, but after a while found it a bit too tedious to apply cream to my fingers and toes every night. And it got into the way of my enjoying biting my fingernails. The cream smells very good but doesn't taste great.

My latest happy discovery is Baby Face. It is perfect as a makeup remover. All I need to do is to rub the soap till it melts (as the weather gets colder here it gets harder to melt), then transfer some to my eyelids (my only makeup area), rub gently and then wipe off with moist cotton pads. It smells heavenly and doesn't irritate my eyes! I lopped off a chunk into a tiny container to bring along whenever I travel. Light and easy, no more juggling your liquids around trying to fit within the on-board quota! My bottle of L'oreal makeup remover leaked and I hated that. No more leakage problems now. I guess the drawback is you probably need to spend more time melting the soap with your body heat before you can de-makeup. I read some customer reviews that the soap can also be used as a facial cleanser but I haven't got the patience to melt enough in my palms to smother all over my face.

YC sent me Mr Butterball, a fizzing bath salt for Christmas. He made me feel damn good. The vanilla musk lingered for hours and my skin had this protective oily (not greasy, mind you) layer after soaking that felt so nutritious, I didn't need to lotion up even with the superdrying central heating on (it's winter!).

I wasn't so happy with their solid shampoo though. You can find out why here.

Reorganisation

2009-12-10T23:41:00.003+01:00

I'm giving my blog a new face. And I'm discovering "labels" for the first time. Tonight I embarked on the journey of rediscovering my blogposts from donkey years ago and see if anything is worth labeling. Three hours (and three years) later... and to my horror I saw that Photobucket stopped hosting my pictures because I haven't logged in for more than 90 days. More like 90 months but nevermind that. Now I have the additional joyful task of hunting down the missing pictures from my backup CDs (yup those were the days), DVDs (more like it) and harddisks, if I still have them. Bleh.

Baboons

2009-12-03T17:40:00.007+01:00

Today is an important day. The date is in ascending order when you write it American style. It's daddy's birthday. And now, also the date I'm half-married.

I'm also a very good travel-mate to have when backpacking in exotic places.

Created by Oatmeal

Barcelona

2009-10-31T11:11:00.008+01:00

I love Barcelona. The fresh seafood, the cheap public transport (except the after-midnight crazyass expensive airport taxi to our B&B), the sunny weather... And of course the little incident that will forever mark this place as being special. (no I didn't poo my pants)

There was the obligatory marvelling at Gaudi's brilliantly organic buildings.

There's strolling down the busy La Rambla towards the port. And just sit at the marina and daydream the afternoon away. Or launch into an intelligent debate on why the bigger fish don't team up and attack a seagull.

The magical fountain of Montjuic (I had to wikipedia to find out that the name means Jewish Mountain. Duh.) where all your dreams come true! Or at least, you go aaaaaaaah.

Squids are a must-try when in Barcelona. Grilled, deepfried, whatever way they come in, try. I miss them so much, oh my chipirones.

I suppose a visit to Spain wouldn't be complete without looting their Zara and Mango (and Desigual) outlets. And so I had my first shopping spree in Europe.

My only regret this trip? Not buying a Barcelona FC jersey. Boohoo!

Cupcake mild fever

2009-08-03T11:45:00.004+02:00

I must admit, I got hit by the cupcake fever a bit late. It suddenly came about a month ago, and 48 cupcakes later, I've recovered. All the frosting and decorating and witnessing the oohs and aahs emitted from guests were quite fun though, while it lasted.

Now that the mild fever has gone... what am I to do with the 2 boxes of muffin ready-mix I didn't really get to use?

Ok

2009-03-13T16:24:00.003+01:00

Right. I have made up my mind to pick this up again. Thanks to the economic downturn (and the deterioration of my writing skills) I will be getting even lesser writing jobs so this could be the only place I get to be a scribe.

Now. Where do I start. I've been home for about 2 months now and have done... almost nothing. Except for a cross-stitch paper complete with a blank yellowed cloth and a set of threads which I found in a corner of my wardrobe and have taken to put into action what I wanted to do 10 years ago. Mmm college days. MUST be that long ago.

Minus the random weeks of holidays and days of laziness, I have thus progressed to...

Happy birthday

2008-12-03T15:28:00.002+01:00

Happy birthday dad.
I'm thinking of you.

Dingwall

2008-09-01T15:39:00.004+02:00

Soon. Soon there will be Dingbridge, Dingtown and Dingcounty. Mwahahaha.

Mwahahahahahahahahaha.

Paris

2008-08-30T21:47:00.018+02:00

Almost two months overdue but here it is. A post about Paris, the city of love and romance... if you think rain is sexy. My first Eurostar journey was quite sexy and smooth though, didn't even realise I was going into a tunnel under the sea. Not to mention the speed. I got from London to Paris within the same time frame it takes me to go home from work, every day. Bitching.

I've been underground since disembarking from the train at Gare du Nord, and this is the first sight of the city that greeted me coming out from the Metro. Arc du Triomphe. I wasn't as thrilled with the monument as I was with the fact that I'd be staying in such a posh part of town, woohoo!

Evidence of how much my man and I love our books. Not a moment to waste!

Obligatory act-cute pose before I get too old for it. Shuddup if you're gonna say I have already breached said threshold. It's not easy filtering out pictures to post here that aren't already on Facebook. I don't want to repeat my pictures. Yes it's my blog and I can change the subject whenever I feel like it.

I was a bit let down by Champs-Elysees to be honest. I expected Regent Street x3 with the glitter and glamorous high-so people prancing about but got a run down Bintang Walk instead.

The Louvre is HUGE. Since we underestimated the walking distance to the museum from our hotel through Champs-Elysees, I was already quite tired and grumpy by the time we got there. And the stifling heat didn't help, especially at the entrance (glass pyramid that look very high-tech and nice in the picture)... my eyeballs nearly combusted.

It's a shame we couldn't cover the entire museum even though we paid for the damn tickets. We were just too... sleepy. Totally shouldn't stay up till 2 in the morning drinking coffee and chatting with Peter's colleagues. We chose to just do the hall housing Mona Lisa, took some pictures and then left (very wisely by Metro this time) and slept till dinnertime. Sorry-lah dear Louvre, didn't do you justice this time. But your exhibit, the Mona Lisa is a bit cheating also. So small in real life! And wassup with the barriers and guards preventing us from taking a decent picture, eh?

Energised from the well-deserved nap and yumyum-in-the-tumtum from a really nice and proper French dinner, we got adventurous and walked again in search of Eiffel Tower. We reckoned chances of us not finding it would be very low, after all, it's a tower. Just look up, right?

See what good food can do to the Ogress. Even if the boyfriend cannot take a proper night-time picture to save his life. But I still love him to bits-lah. He's paying for the tripod AND shoulder the responsibility of lugging it around though.

Apple flavour Minute Maid! I have never encountered one before this. And I must say, Minute Maids taste better out of tetrapaks. Drinking them from the can reminded me painfully of tap water in London. Metallica!

Basilica of the Sacred Heart at the peak of Montmarte. It's totally the Batu Caves of Paris - the amount of steps one has to climb can kill the faint-hearted. Although there wasn't any peril of monkeys trying to grab your food/jewellery, there were many African dudes lolling around the foot of the hill trying to tie bits of string on your hand and then extort you for money. Equally annoying.

The sound effects that totally completed the whole ethereal, serene feel to the place. Very apt for a cathedral on top of a hill overlooking the whole Paris, doncha think? If you could ignore the meddling, peddling string-sellers (you can see one in action in this picture on the left), that is. And the anxiety of pigeons shitting on your head.

Our cosy hotel, with endless supply of Minute Maids right across the road. And free wifi. The boyfriend would probably throw a tantrum when he sees a half nekkid picture of him here for the world to see but it's not like he reads my blog... so... ssshhhh. And yeah we have two beds. Cannot meh?

The Notre Dame. We weren't feeling very churchey so opted out from paying to have a look inside. In retrospect I should have climbed up the tower and check out the bell and gargoyles. Oh well.

The Thinker at Musee Rodin. Big big garden adorned with clusters of statues. I like.

cough

2008-08-30T01:29:00.004+02:00

Oooooh *cough cough* (hands swiping at cobwebs) look at the amount of dust gathering here. Have I been gone that long?

Time for some spring (autumn!) cleaning. Like, literally. Because my room has been invaded by bed bugs again I suspect. The two bites on my chin and neck itch like a mother. Grrrrr. But my room doesn't feel that dirty. Thanks to the carpet with magical properties. It's amazing how stuff can fall on it and they magically disappear from sight and mind. I have lost earrings, hair rubberbands, and my prized big big cut toenail into that field of magic.

See for yourself. Can tell where my pyjama bottoms end and where the carpet begins? Yeah I live in a Victorian hotel lobby.

When I can afford to rent my own flat next time, first thing I will make sure is... no carpets on floor. At least then I don't have to cry over spilt milk. Can just mop it up.

Gastric

2008-07-09T14:12:00.003+02:00

At times like these I'm glad that my boss and I share the same gastric/stomache ulcer trauma. I'm having the mother of all gastric attacks (could it be because of the damn organic banana I had for breakfast? I knew I should stick to cheap-ass normal ones planted by slaves and fertilised by 100 different chemicals) and his Omeprazole saves the day.

I'm back from Paris but I have no time to elaborate yet. Will do so during the weekend, promise! Right now I have more scheming to do.

junk mail

2008-06-24T19:46:00.003+02:00

Sometimes I don't groan aloud when I get junk mail. Sometimes they even make my day. Ah the knowledge I could gain...

van persie

2008-06-17T23:36:00.004+02:00

My hero. He has a certain sissiness to him (the way he dribbles?) that I cannot describe but a damn sharp shooter! Will he help win the cup?

retail therapy

2008-06-15T18:20:00.005+02:00

This morning I woke up to a massive attack (only my wife Andrea would get this I suppose - since it's her favourite music) of headache again. Could be from all the merciless cold wind at Hyde Park yesterday. Or the bucket of KFC we shared at night before crashing into fitful slumber and waking up half dying from our parched throats. Their tagline here should be "it's drowsy, thirsty and finger lickin' good!" although I'll lick two fingers less because they serve baked beans here as a side rather than mashed potatoes. How can!

Anyway in my throes of headachey anguish, I lost my senses and went out to do grocery only to come home with...

BUT thank goodness I haven't lost my good senses enough to lighten my wallet with heels or stilettos or wedges that I'd probably wear once and then rear spiders at a corner of the hallway.

The pair of black trainers is so comfy I wanna rub the softness all over my face and purr. Mr Aldo I love you!

And this is my first ever pair of flats so shuddup I don't wanna hear about how bling it is and how am I going to wear it out and what with... because I also dunno.

1st anniversary

2008-06-15T00:34:00.008+02:00

Nothing marks my one-year-in-London milestone quite historically as the London Naked Bike Ride. Last year's took place the second day I set foot in this country. I went with Bel. This year, I managed to convince Andrea, Simon (who told me about this event last year), Omar and Rafael to tag along.

Rafael stole my camera and disappeared into the crowd to take pictures with the wimmin (taking off his top as camouflage). I was quite pissed because I missed plenty of opportunities for my own pictures. One of which an interesting specimen wearing Borat's swimming costume in red. Damn.

Omar prefer his au naturel. I roll my eyes and huff but actually admire their courage to go "excuse me, can I take a picture with you?" because I secretly want to take pictures with hot naked guys too. Boo... maybe next year. I'm slowly improving ok. Last year I didn't even dare to take any frontal pictures.

All too soon, the whistle sounded and... they're off! My party followed suit. Damn cold day... poor shriveled cyclists. I'm sure their passion and dedication keep them warm, though. As well as other cyclists. And pure adrenaline.

Me no guts can only take picture of myself. Loh. Next time someone be nice and offer to shove me into the crowd for a quick snap ok?

flat white

2008-06-11T23:31:00.002+02:00

Today I received the most beautiful two words from the Bossman for the entire month.

"Flat White?"

He was out following up on a project we have in Soho. And he remembers.

"Ok. Will have you microwave" he texted back after I "Yay"ed him.

So 6 hours later and I'm still caffeinated from the BEST coffee in London, although the receipt of said coffee was an hour later and lukewarm with a suspicious spring oniony aftertaste.

So I have reflux from shotgunning my cuppa that burns right up my throat like the damn Olympic torch but I'm still happy clappy boppy buzzy because I had Flat White!

What a fine match

2008-06-11T00:08:00.003+02:00

What a superb match (not this guy's fluke goal, but still) it was. Now I don't have to be forced to support Holland because of someone's Dutch heritage, I do so willingly because they ARE good and deserve to win.

Goedzo, jongens!

damn sad

2008-06-08T23:31:00.008+02:00

I have had no inspiration to blog at all. For such a long time. I wonder if working in a company called Inspirations does that to you. Or the daily 3-hour battle with the nefarious energy-sucking vampire called London Underground.

Moving forward...

Okay, first backwards a little. Summary of the past months starting from the most recent.

No. I haven't gotten this fat during my hiatus. Or pregnant. Although it's fun to scare you reader(s?) a bit.

Anyway one week after this picture was taken...

Baby Sep came into the world. He is so super mega adorable! I can't believe I have to wait until July to see/touch/pinch/bully Baby Sep. Barely a week old and he can smile like this!

I envious. I want.

(and Peter freaks out)

Other than my birthday, May was a month of strawbies. I finally fulfilled my wish of plucking strawbies in a real strawbie farm. Outside Peter's family house. Which were then turned into pie. Fruit of labour indeed!

I want lotsa strawbies outside my house also.

(and Peter freaks out again)

April was a month of Eryn. Finally she's here. In London. And she brought me many presents, the most memorable being bedbugs. I really hope the scars would fade in time.

I actually miss having a room-mate now that she's found her own place.

snow

2008-04-06T12:03:00.003+02:00

Just when I thought the weather is turning warmer and I look like an idiot wearing winter jacket and sweating waterfalls inside... it snowed again this morning.

So much has happened over the last month I don't know where to start.

But I have recovered from the meanest bitch of a flu of the century. Until the cough came back yesterday that is...

snow

2008-03-22T08:50:00.000+01:00

The second day of spring, and I saw snow. For 5 minutes.

monday

2008-02-25T18:26:00.003+01:00

Mondays are never good. Today has been a day of... complaints.

Early morning complaint from housemate about rubbish being strewn about outside the house and not properly binned. Not mine, I said. Then another complaint about why wasn't I responsible enough to find out whose those were and deal with them.

Then colleagues complained about the lack of choices for lunch-food around the office. And why Tesco has to be shut and renovated for one whole week. And Planet Organic labelled walnut bread as white bread and we had to pay extra for the walnuts.

Afternoon complaint from the boyfriend about illegible fontsize and fontcolour in our new fledgling of a blog. But I can't change the font colour, it'll clash with the whole theme of the template! No, I'm not bolding the words either. It'd be like screaming the post out. Haggle haggle. I finally settled to increasing the font size by numero uno. Now, to figure out how to actually do it...

phooey

2008-02-24T12:35:00.012+01:00

Wow, has it been that long, my ardent blog readers? Hello? Hi? Right. My online diary for myself then. I don't know why I don't write, it's not like I'm hopelessly addicted to Facebook or anything.

I know why. My creative writing juiced have dried up. The right side of my brain is about as shriveled as a toe that's been in the sea for 12 hours. So what's been the highlight of the past month of my absence? Chinese New Year back in Malaysia, of course.

Brought the boyfriend back to help with the festive cooking preparations (proved to be a good worker too with minimal complaints and needs) and meet the clan(s). Pioneering the list of boyfriends I actually brought home, I think the reception was alright. Phew.

Met up with more high school friends that I had in previous years because two special people had birthdays that fell during CNY this year and everyone gathered to celebrate. Happy birthday Val and Eryn! And, what's up with the strange fascination the boyfriend has with my armpit? That or he's kind enough to avoid a frontal of my face with that enormous zit (welcome home present from the tropics!)...

And then we went to Phuket and the works, Phi Phi Ley, Phi Phi Don (Maya Bay), James Bond Island, Khai Island etc. This is the place we stopped for lunch at Phi Phi Don. The water made me itchy and goosebumpy like no other. Magical.

This is the skimpiest you'd ever see me in. Count it your lucky day (to not be visually polluted with other more ogressy body parts). I saw lady tourists from China (quite a huge number of them around Phuket actually) wear colourful singlets inside their one-piece swimwear. Tsk tsk. It's much cooler when you wear it outside *flashback to high school, underdeveloped years*...

*squeal* My boyfriend is sooooo S-E-X-Y!!! Aiyo and so cute... *giggle*

The next morning, we discovered that we have yet to achieve the tan we wanted to return to Europe with, so it was hardcore 2 solid hours under the sun with MP3s and my book (ah the message he wrote within makes me smile every time).

I felt totally conned (hmm didn't I use this phrase already in my last post) by the elephant ride. I was expecting an hour of National Park rainforest exploration on top of an elephant, stopping every once in a while for her (it has to be a her and don't ask me why) to nibble on leaves and/or swat at bushes. Instead we got an hour under the blistering sun (no canopy here) in a man made uphill-downhill (poor elephants) elephant track. Upsetifying!

Valentine's dinner at a French restaurant in Bangkok made up for earlier disappointments! I wished I've ordered foie gras though. I want foie gras! But the 9-course dinner was nice. Peter had veal and I had a tuna steak as mains.

Last Malaysian meal before boarding the plane. Is this why I was so gassy?

conned!

2008-01-21T15:24:00.000+01:00

I've been so conned. Winter in London is rain. And rain. And delayed London Underground services and buses with timetables of the KL buses - none. More rain. Black nose boogers. And more rain.

Whatever happened to snow-covered footpaths and fluffy flakes in my hair (not the dandruffy kind)?

I'm returning to Malaysia-lah!

... for two weeks. I still love London and all she has to offer. Unless, of course, snow covers London when I'm back in Malaysia and melts when I'm back in London.

Then I shall HULKRAGE.

greetings

2008-01-03T17:04:00.001+01:00

Happy New Year to my faithful blog readers! Yes, the three of you should know who you are. I am now back at work, and "at" is the most apt description because it denotes physical presence and not necessarily mental. The final few days of holidays I couldn't wait to get into work with renewed vigour, but now that I am at it my engines seem to have iced over in the numbing cold. Thaw, dammit, thaw. Or else the Bossman will have my skin when he's back.

My new year celebration was a nice and cosy one, surrounded by loved one(s) and fluffy pets and 3 different boardgames (intellectual innit) at Jos and Marjanne's in Heeze (a small town south of Eindhoven). The fireworks at midnight were surprisingly Chinese New Year-ish too, with neighbours all standing outside on the streets greeting each other and the smell of gunpowder in the air...

Had a very auntifying New Year's Day walking the dog in the nearby woods for 5km. My toes are still blistered. But good company always make up for physical discomfort. Come see more pictures!

What's your celebration like?

happy new year

2007-12-31T11:29:00.002+01:00

My first out-of-town sight-seeing trip for the Christmas break - Den Bosch. Well the full name of the town is 's-Hertogenbosch but I'm sure all foreign visitors join me in rejoicing that it's better known for the humanly-pronunciable shorter name.

I haven't hung out much with twins as friends in real life. They're like unicorns. Fascinating and alien with plenty of theories and whispers of telepathy and the likes. I still stare at Jos with the intense interest of a scientist to a rare species of butterfly pinned onto a slide. Hence I try not to look at him too much. The resemblance in gait, laughter and outlook are scaaaary. Doppelganger!

My twin is well, less complex. I think. He's always happy. Click for more Den Bosch pictures while I go pack my bags to go to Jos and Marjanne's for New Year countdown and a game of Scrabble.

christmas

2007-12-27T15:05:00.001+01:00

On Christmas Day I went to Peter's mum's for dinner with the rest of the Beerguzzlers. My earlier self-inflicted stress and worry proved to be merely self-inflicted (as always) because they were really nice people. It was a night of merry-making and introduction to a very different Christmas dinner do. Instead of stuffed roast turkey and Christmas log and brussel sprouts like what I anticipated from telly... my first ever European Christmas experience was a... gourmet.

"Christmas dinner in The Netherlands is a bit different from customs in neighbouring countries. One typical Dutch tradition is that of 'gourmet'. This is an evening long event where small groups of people sit together around a gourmet-set and use their own little frying pan to cook and season their own food in very small portions. The host has prepared finely chopped vegetables and different types of meats, fish and prawns/shrimps. Everything is accompanied by different salads, fruits and sauces. The origin of gourmet lies most likely in the former Dutch colony Indonesia." (from Wikipedia)

I'd sift through hundreds of mouth-watering foodie pics and post the best ones up but alas, as my luck with cameras would have it, the camera battery died before dinner started. Fuck. It. Lah.

Backview of the house where Peter grew up in. Was too shy to take pics of the frontal so I sneaked around the backyard, stepped in shit, and took pictures of...

... a homegrown brocolli (hopefully) plant. Much to the amusement of the family, whom I realised too late, could see my every move from the kitchen window.

The garden shed. Although, garden is very wrong a word to call the heee-yooooge piece of land around the house. And everyone's cajoling Peter to build his house on it, much to his aghast. As for me... why not? I can have the biggest mofo-ing kitchen in the world. And summers filled with strawberries around the house where I can just squat and stuff my face. And wave snails about at the faint-hearted. Fun! Let's see if I get my way in this... *rub hands in glee*

Note - Peter's family name translates into "in the beer house" in English.

tang yuen

2007-12-23T01:10:00.001+01:00

Today is the first day of winter, according to the Chinese custom. It certainly felt like winter long ago. It doesn't make me gawp anymore watching my neighbours scrape ice off their windshields while I walk to the tube station in the mornings. I'm learning to not just look at the temperature but also wind chill factor. My ears feel like they're on fire every time I expose them outdoors. Walking itself is a chore, hobbling and slipping like a stunted penguin along ice-covered walkways. Painful lungs and steam rising from my nose/mouth with each laboured, icy breath.

Don't get me wrong, the general coldness is crisp and refreshing, as long as there's no wind. And no, I have yet to see snow.

Thank God for some familiarity on chilly days of dry flaky skin. Kong Kia is my very own Santa came early. I love you long time! I love tang-yuen with black sesame filling! (I cooked these, by the way. Me me me!)

autumn

2007-11-24T02:05:00.000+01:00

This post is kicked into being by Sonia of Meta4our. I am very much pleased to know that I now have the grand total of two (maybe more, we'll have to see who shows him/herself by leaving a comment) constant readers. But my determination to learn as much as I can at work, coupled with the lovely London Underground service on Piccadilly Line that makes the normal 3-hour work commute drag into an unbearable 4... leaves me with precious little time to cook dinner, catch a glimpse of my downloads, talk to my bloke online, do laundry etc. Gradually decreasing sporadic bursts to write properly are cleanly absorbed by Facebook and emails. So, no blogging for long long time.

But it's time to turn over a new leaf. Because it's autumn and all old leaves fall down. Disregarding the merciless chilly wind and general coldness of London, I'm quite excited being smack in the middle of my virgin-autumn. Soon it'll be my virgin-winter, and boy-o-boy I'm gonna see/touch/lick me some real snow!

Can you blame me for subconsciously humming California Dreaming whenever I get outdoors?

It's so cold I'm wearing this indoors. And it's not winter yet. Dammit.

busy

2007-11-18T12:45:00.000+01:00

Work busy.
House internet died.
Confirmed Berlin for Christmas break.
Confirmed flight back to Malaysia for Chinese New Year.
Going to the park at Eindhoven later.
Still alive.

perdido street station

2007-10-29T22:51:00.001+01:00

China Miéville is a genius. When Bossman told me enthusiastically how Perdido Street Station is his favourite book of all time, all I could picture mentally was the cover of the Tom Hanks DVD which sounds eerily similar to the title.

It's not an easy book to read at all. I almost gave up at the second chapter because of the complexity of characters, setting with no explanation or flashbacks whatsoever. Who is who, where is where, what is what... my sleepy morning one-hour tube rides and exhausted evening ones didn't take well to the story. But like a soldier that I am, I trudged slowly through; word by word, sentence by sentence. I began to doubt if I share the same taste as Bossman in books after all. Which, should be the case because I've enjoyed six of his recommended books tremendously.

Then something shifted and I got sucked into New Crobuzon, smelling the pollutant-rich air (ok ok it could be London's public transport), walking among khepris, garudas, Remades, vodyanois, cactus people and sharing their ripe dark fear of the slake moths and nightmares, plotting together and against each other to survive.

I subject myself to two delicious hours of new words, new beings and new dimensions of existence every day... and now that I'm at the final quarter of the book, every paragraph is painstakingly precious. I don't want it to end! But I'm also dying to know the final outcome. Ah, this is what a beautiful book does to you. An empty sense of loss (and longing) and few minutes of displacement when you disengage mind from story.

I challenge you to read Perdido Street Station and not fall in love with it.

brussels

2007-10-24T22:56:00.001+02:00

Scold me. Cane me. Unfriend me on Facebook. I'm sorry for the absence. Thanks Gab for bombarding me to come back here from my affair with Facebook. Dammit the fluff-pet thing there is addictive. I'll friend anyone who pets my pet! Come pet come pet.

Back to blogging. I'm back from a weekend in Brussels! I'm recovering from my first cold contracted in cold-and-getting-colder London! I'm gonna continue watching Supernatural Season 2 to make space for the 5 seasons of Futurama that Peter downloaded! Be a good boy/girl and see my Brussels pictures and leave me to faster watch and faster delete my drama series ok?

awwww

2007-10-10T14:20:00.000+02:00

I was craving for hot, steaming Chinese food at 9pm last night. Being her typical self, London hid all the Chinese eateries away from sight after 8pm. I ate the chilly bone-searing nightwind instead, trudging along the bustling Oxford Street. (well ended up eating at Garfunkel's but it's not the same!)

This morning I came into work and lo behold! A Chinese takeaway container on my table! My heart leapt and saliva oozed. Could it be for me or some evil colleague chose this very day to accidentally leave the food I crave accidentally on my table? I asked around and got happier and hopefuller as the number of head-shakers increased.

Bossmum looked at me blankly when I asked if she brought me Chinese. Bossman overheard (what's new, the man's omni! -present, -hearing, -tasking and whatever you care to name) and went "Oh! I totally forgot about that! Supposed to put it in the fridge this morning!"

...

I told him he really made me happy for half an hour for nothing.

"But I got it for you!"

...
*vision blurs*

How to not love a boss like that?
Having said that, a telepathic one is kinda scary.

back from bologna

2007-10-06T23:55:00.001+02:00

Bologna was great right up to the point when we were at the Italian airport waiting for our flight back. Like your usual friendly low-cost carrier, Ryan Air was late. The airport was small with nothing to eat except weird sandwiches. Nevermind. Then Stansted's passport control had to have this ridiculously long queue at freakin' 12.30am. Having missed the last train back into civilisation, we had to bus it, then cab it separately, and the last member of the posse reached home at 4am.

To add on to my frustration, I stepped on a snail walking to my front door. Sickening crunch, snail squashed, I wiped my boots on the neighbour's patch of grass, crashed into bed fully clothed and woke up with mascara on my pillow and contact lense dried up northwards of eyeball, threatening to lodge itself into brains.

But enough of moaning. Let's rewind a little bit now.

We had a 2-hour little getaway break before heading towards the airport after our Cersaie stint, so Bossman generously shoved us into the main plaza of Bologna - the Piazza Maggiore, fronting the famous San Petronio church. He also tried to get us to eat at the nicest restaurant in town but they close from 3-7pm. Boo. Must give him credit for trying though.

I love Bossman. Even if we had to work in the train. Because he remembers I cannot sit facing the opposite direction. And I love juice. And food makes me happy. And we share a bizarre, warped sense of humour.

bologna

2007-10-03T00:03:00.001+02:00

The Whirlwind Called Peter came and left during the weekend. So has Incubus, the main reason Peter flew over (of course there's me, as well) to see them in action and, being the general disorganised person (new busy career-woman is how I like to put it) I am, there were no more tickets when I tried to book some. So I compensated by bringing him to the British Museum and look at ancient, shriveled dead people.

The Wern Yi has moved south to London! Befriended her friends and brother as well. Cool, cool people. Now I know someone in Leeds to bunk with, if the desire to visit ever arises. Funny how people connect and become friends so much faster in a foreign country than our own.

And tomorrow I fly to Bologna for Cersaie.

100% design

2007-09-25T23:44:00.001+02:00

Where: Jessey's turf in the office.
When: 5pm Friday, after coming back from 100% Design exhibition.
Why: My orange juice was laced with a little vodka.

So much for trying to be the tough cookie when Bossman's buying everyone drinks. No no, I don't like beer. You guys go ahead. I'll have Malibu with pineapple juice. Oh you don't have that? What should I have then, Bossman? Oh? Vodka with sparkling orange juice is nice? Ok I'll have that.

Oh the length I had to go through to make sure I don't puke. No fun at all being humiliated (I'd prefer praised, but too bad all comments were from women) as a cheap date (note to self: order the most expensive tea there is on the menu to counter cheap date) and generally feeling like crap with head threatening to thud into explosion.

Why I cannot drink one.

too much

2007-09-14T21:25:00.000+02:00

Someone is trying to hook Bossman up with the actress from Nip/Tuck. In real life. This job is getting too glamorous to handle. So is the totally hawt but totally shy freelance IT guy that comes in once a week.

My boss. Talking about Joely being too tall for him.
Most beautiful man in London. In my office.

Pinch me. Now.

close shop

2007-09-11T23:48:00.001+02:00

Draaaaaat I haven't updated for so long I might as well close down the site. Now that I've started working I barely have time to read other people's blog, let alone blogging myself. And there's always the bane of normal, healthy social lives, Facebook. (whaaat, I'm almost at my 100th friend now so I'm excited ok!) Anyway Aggy's coming this weekend and I haven't vacuum (or shall I be a proper British and say "hoover") and clean up the sty. Then Wern-Yi might be coming the next weekend, and my Peter-ito the weekend after that. My bed's so gonna think I'm teh slut of the century.

But yeah, work. Work's been pretty much my entire life and universe for the past 3 weeks. Sure doesn't feel that long. It's very interesting, what I do now, being someone's personal assistant. Trying to learn everything the Bossman knows and then be a step ahead of him so I can plan tasks and schedules for him. So far the most exciting "projects" I've done is learning how to use Outlook (and having the powderful access to Bossman's mailbox), ordering stationery online, drawing our new website map with Visio, measuring and sketching a client's bathroom (doesn't smell very nice though, and it's disturbing how the pong slowly dissipated the longer I stayed in the small stuffy room... did my clothes absorb all the goodness?), and attempting to make sense of 10 boxes and 2 cabinet-ful of Bossman's miscellaneous junk. Unearthed some pretty weird stuff, I must say.

But yeah, work. Foresee more interesting days ahead. Nice boss, nice colleagues, nice working environment. Only un-nice part is the 3 hours of commuting every day. And I cannot afford to move any closer to work. Sigh. London! Nevermind, think positive think positive. Bossman's taking me to Bologna next month for Cersaie! And and...

Say hello to my new toy (a.k.a. handcuffs to the Bossman), the BlackBerry Pearl. I have no frickin' idea how to work it yet, I just use it for my morning alarm. Damn thing looks so canggih I'm seriously terrified of it. Yeah, I'm glad Bossman doesn't read my blog.

work and stratford

2007-09-02T13:13:00.001+02:00

So I'm now a proper working class person. A week and a half into being a Bossman's Right-Hand, I'm still learning and enjoying the new experiences. Still terrified about picking up the phone (especially Bossman's mobile) but I could only run away to make tea that many times in a day. Next week we're gonna sit down to discuss the corporate website and brochure. Should be interesting. But then, having the sole power to order whatever stationery I like for everyone is also very interesting.

Now that the sun's only up till 8pm and not 10pm... what's better than reminiscing about the good summery trips we took a few weeks ago? Si, YC and I went to Stratford-upon-Avon to be immersed in Shakespeare one very sunny Saturday. And then his uni in Warwick and the 2 flats he lived in while studying and then dinner at his favourite Indian restaurant.

All those we did, but not Warwick Castle. Because no more sun.

bryan boy

2007-08-25T19:06:00.001+02:00

I now have Bryan Boy as a friend on Facebook. Wow, talk about having the closest thing to a celebrity as a friend. I haven't been reading that third-world skinny bitch's blog as religiously nowadays, but you should. He's the loudest, funniest, smartest and proudest.

Which jives perfectly well with my post today on Brighton and it's annual Pride event. I know I'm a wee bit behind on this (but no, I'm not a behind-person so AIM CAREFULLY DAMMIT) but just bear with me yeah. I'll make this short and sweet so y'all can just click on the link and go see pictures. Someone killed my braincells a little today by asking me to download and watch A Night At The Roxbury so I'm not feeling too witty right now.

After lots of colourful parades (as well as openly gay displays of affection) in the Netherlands, I have to say the Brighton one wasn't too entertaining. Nevermind the few Chinese bitches who elbowed me and shouldered their ways to the front and left me snapping pictures of people's arms or hair or cameras. I was standing quite in front because I've been queuing there, dammit. I'm ashamed of my fellow skin sometimes.

Having said that, I went for a job interview with a manager who's from Brighton (and sounded suspiciously too enthusiastic about the whole Pride thing to be straight) and he said the REAL fun isn't at Madeira Drive (where the parade starts) but at the park where it ends and everyone gets really drunk and clappy-happy.

Note: No, I'm not a 'phobe. My interviewer said "Pride is AWESOME! I never miss a year!" and how can you not suspect a statement like that?

Si got really really sunburnt from sitting on the pebbled Brighton beach and feeding my tuna bagel to the pebbles. After ignoring his pinkness (which turned a more and more violent shade by the minute) by ogling at this hot young thing in a skin-coloured bikini (and betting with Si if it'd be transparent when she comes out of the water) for a good long time, we finally left Brighton. And since it's still quite early, we made an impromptu detour to visit Portsmouth. We drank beer at the pub which is converted from Si's dad's old office, and then watched Transformers at Vue. Then we went home and Si shed skin for the next week.

Now, I shall plot cunningly how to get Azwin Andy into my Facebook as well. *swoon*

No. Her bikini didn't become transparent.

ashamed

2007-08-25T01:13:00.001+02:00

I'm ashamed of myself. Haven't been updating for the past 2 weeks! I swear, I'm going to sit my fat-ass down this weekend and catch up with updates on my escapades to several quaint English towns.

The whirlwind called Peter has come and left and I haven't even finished uploading pictures for my Netherlands trip a month ago. Shame, shame. Without further ado, the final chapter of my Netherlands trip (until October, that is), the town which I hate and like at the same time (more dislike than like) - Rotterdam.

Like: Sausages sold from automatic vending machines. Sounds like nothing special at all, right? They're made of horse meat. Both Frikadel and Kroket are made from a mixture of mashed meat, including horse. Uh huh. I had a horse sausage and it was salty and plenty GOOD.

Like: Sweaty and hot young men beating their sticks. Oooh la la.

Dislike: Too politically incorrect to say it here. But you girls can gawk at my usual pristine pictures.

great beer festival 2007

2007-08-11T01:51:00.001+02:00

Si texted me to meet in town for a post-interview mini-celebration today. It's been the best interview I've had to date, by a young and laid-back MD with a really interesting background. I didn't think someone up there can be so similar to myself. Let's see what comes out of this. For now, let's see Jessey drink!

Quantity of beer: 6. (Eco Warrior, Guzzler, Ossian, Danish Dynamite, Dark Fantastic, Orval) Nevermind I had like 3 sips on average of each. Just treasure the rare pictures of me actually allowing alcohol into my bloodstream, ok?

Where/What: The one place where all beers of the world come together to teach the world to sing in imperfect harmony (oh the band *shudder*), and drunken men swap clothes with drunken women, and hotdogs go for an insane price, and the queue to the men's port-a-potty is longer than the women's.

How/Why: Because Si graciously paid for everything (including dinner at Wagamama's!) and happily (at least he looked so) guzzled all my beer (that he chose) after my 3 sips. Entrance fee is a crazy 8pounds each ok! I so think I wasted mine. Hence this picture is an attribute to the awesomeness of Si-from-Land-of-Skirt-wearing-Men. Thanks for the experience, sayang.

Tomorrow, we're going to Stratford-upon-Avon to breathe the air that Shakespeare slept, wrote, farted and left a legacy in. And explore Warwick Castle.

No, I don't think Dionne owns it.

i'm funny ok

2007-08-07T01:08:00.000+02:00

Sometimes I amaze myself with my own funniness. What's there not to love?

maastricht

2007-08-06T16:26:00.001+02:00

Okay okay I know you guys are probably sick of my slow and painful Netherlands posts and pictures (WHAT? STILL GOT?!) but bear with me. This one is speshul, because of many speshul things I got to do besides taking cloud pictures and flower pictures and canal pictures.

I ate an entire raw herring. I've seen plenty of vans and stalls selling them, but somehow eating a WHOLE fish raw just didn't appeal to me like your typical sashimi does. But then, have to try everything once, right? So I went right ahead and bought myself an experience. It wasn't half as bad as I thought! I'll definitely eat it again happily. Outdoors. Because the fish pongs up the whole room and fridge.

I got a strange shout-out from my deceased godbro, Nido. Well, hello there dear! Welcome to the Netherlands! Where've you been for the 6 months since you're gone?

I cycled again after not doing so for about 10 years. The wind rushing past my face and hair was exhilarating, especially when I stood up mid-pedal and yelled a liberating "woooo hoooo". Then the building ache on my ass and pubic bone reminded me I'm not the skinny, sporty girl from 10 years ago anymore. I couldn't sit properly for days after cycling for about 30km that day. But hey, it was fun, and so was the caving adventure we cycled to.

We? Yup, you read it right. There was a man involved. Curious, right? Not just nice scenery, nice flowers and nice canals anymore. Faster go see my pictures-lah.

utrecht

2007-08-03T12:58:00.002+02:00

Utrecht is a small town (funny how it's the central train station for the whole of the Netherlands though) surrounded with canals. And interesting pubs and shops surround the main canal. The two rows of shops/restaurants/pubs are just nice for me, comprehensive enough to get whatever one needs but not dizzyingly crisscrossed with other canals and streets to get one lost in direction and choices.

The centre of Utrecht has to be Domplein, where the famous Dom Church is. Apparently one can climb up to the top of the tower and take kickass awesome pictures... but I. Just. Couldn't. Find. The. Entrance. Maybe they're under renovation? I truly believe so. (say otherwise and I'll perform The Nutcracker)

The inside of the Dom Church. Niiiiiiiice. Filled me with childlike wonder and reminded me of the incident where I climbed into the church of my Catholic kindergarten (*ahem* broke in through the window, more accurately) and was punished by kneeling in silence for what seemed like a lifetime facing a similarly colourful (but slightly broken - or was it another one?) window like this one.

Anyway, more pictures here.

After all the sightseeing and obligatory photo-taking, I met up with Jenny and got drunk. Finally, someone smaller than me in size that I could bully into cooking dinner while I lay wasted across the couch staring shitfaced into the TV (thanks, buddy).

middelburg

2007-08-03T11:09:00.001+02:00

This could very well be the best leg of my entire trip. Maybe not in terms of accessibility and things to do, but dayum the Bed & Breakfast is fantastic! Quaint neighbourhood with antique cars and resplendent courtyard gardens, I felt like I was walking backwards 20 years.

The bustling town centre with street parades, outdoor cafes, open air rave parties in the park. The starkly quieter housing areas. The long stretch (nevermind it was deserted and cold) of beach just 10 minutes away.

The combination leaves a sweet taste in my mouth. I'm gonna go away now to savour it while I still remember and you people can help yourselves to some sweetness too, right here.

alkmaar

2007-08-01T10:06:00.001+02:00

Every Friday morning, locals and tourists alike swarm to Alkmaar for the weekly cheese market in front of the cheese church. Having missed the Keukenhof gardens by an entire season, I wasn't about to miss the cheese so I braved the morning cold and sleepiness.

The sight of so many wheels (is that the right penjodoh bilangan?) of cheese made my heart gallop like a little deer. But alas, I realised that after all the pomp and show (they even have scientist-lookalikes to cut open some cheese and discuss intellectually among themselves for 15 minutes), these cheese aren't for sale! The workers wheeled the wheels of cheese into big trucks, where they're delivered to Timbuktu and never seen again.

What we could buy, was of course these smaller ones, from the one stall selling cheese at the cheese market square. I didn't get any because I didn't wanna be lugging cheese around town on my first leg of journey. Now I regretted it. But only slightly. Because hey, cheese is cheese right. Regardless of whether it's starred in a show or not.

Alkmaar is also known as Little Venice. The end.

amsterdam

2007-07-31T12:43:00.001+02:00

What is Amsterdam without the canals? Better quality pictures coming up, I promise... blame it on the weather.

What is Amsterdam without the museums? Thank goodness for Museumkaart which is a one-off payment all-access card to over 100 museums in the Netherlands. Very handy indeed on a rainy day with nowhere to go and nothing in the cinema to see. The museum featured here is the Stedelijk Amsterdam, but it's under renovation till 2009.

What is Amsterdam without the tulips? Alas, the only tulips I get to see this trip, are these. Bulbs. Because the effing 77-acre Keukenhof Gardens with 7 million flowers is only open in spring. And I didn't know! *bash self over head* Just think about all the luvverly pikchas I could've taken, frolicking amongst petals and butterflies and sneezing non-stop!

What is Amsterdam without the red light district? Thank goodness this highlight of my trip didn't disappoint. Proud rainbow flags. Suggestive shop names and even more lewd display items. Drool-inducing scantily-clad girls dancing in display windows to music only they can hear.

Why is it located so close to Chinatown, though?

What is Amsterdam without the Ogress? Probably a better place. Where river ducks don't get terrorised, dancing girls don't get upset with camera trying to capture them, museum guards don't need to say "no cameras!" one more time...

Too bad-lah. I came, I saw, and I didn't smoke weed or eat mushrooms.

More pictures (not really a lot, because it was museum-ing all the way, kan) here.

cockring

2007-07-30T23:42:00.000+02:00

Who needs a wedding ring when you can have this baby for some serious lovin'?

I'm back in London, ladies and gentlemen. I need more time to regain my bearings and sob on my pillow that my holiday is over. Be patient. Pictures will be up shortly.

eindhoven

2007-07-18T23:56:00.001+02:00

Stansted Airport. I missed my bus to the airport (but managed to catch the next one) so ended up with no extra time to find nice angles to shoot nice pictures from. Took this after clearing a clear vision line between the legs of Dutch giants (yes, they're really tall) while waiting for boarding.

Nice church I saw while walking to Peter's. I don't understand what's the statue of a pile of intestines doing in front though. From this angle it looks like turd, even. *looks around warily for lightning*

The Netherlands is an hour ahead of London, so we get one more hour of sunshine. Yay for the solar-powered Jess! But their drinks come in the tiniest bottles imaginable. This is certainly the first time I lay eyes upon a 0.2L Coke Light. This street is the happening place in Eindhoven, and true enough, I see people (and one really fat dog)!

Ate at a Mexican restaurant. The burritos here are hee-yuuuuge. Took me damn near 2 hours to finish mine. Plenty yum though. Makes me miss Chilli's back in KL!

Okay have to go unpack and repack again. Hitting Amsterdam and Zeeland (yay beaches) the next 4 days. Keeping fingers crossed the weather would be good like the past 2 days have been.

monday

2007-07-18T03:24:00.001+02:00

Monday. Got sick of writing and sending out CVs so I made pancakes for Mark who's talking away on the phone out in the garden. His expression of dawned understanding when I stood beside him, barefoot on the grass, with a plate of pancakes with honey and blackcurrant preserves in one hand and coffee in another... was priceless. Apparently I've just given him a lethal combined dosage of two of his favourite-est chow in the world. Chuckling and breathless from a big swirly hug, I went back inside to do the dishes. 3 minutes later I heard a loud "YUMMMMMMIEEEEE" and turned to see him whoop and war-dance holler on the grass.

Mark doesn't have to know that the pancake mix is past its expiry date.

Anyway, weather was superb so I took the tube down to Camden for a round of photography. Was hoping to catch a gig too, but alas, it's Monday (aka DEAD) night and nothing much was going on. Explored around Camden and discovered some nice spots, though... check out the rest in my Multiply.

I'm flying off to the Netherlands later. 10 days of tulips, decorative clogs, legalised drugs and tallest people in Europe. And my bankruptcy.

wild wild wes

2007-07-17T13:53:00.002+02:00

Met up with Wes in Central on Saturday. Initial plan was to hit British Museum and Madame Tussaud's... but both choices were showered with huge meteorites of glitches. Most life-threatening one being Bel's precious camera blinking a "memory card error" when I first brandished it on that fine, sunny morning to take a picture outside British Museum.

Wah, talk about the rush of blood leaving my head. I couldn't believe how fucking jinxed I was (am?) when it comes to camera. My own camera died on the third day I got into London. And now her (more expensive) baby? NooOOOoooOOoOo!

So yeah. British Museum was me trudging sullenly behind Wes trying not to let my anxiety mar our day out. Could it be the memory card? Oh please let it be the memory card I cannot afford to replace her camera! We saw mummies and skeletal remains from Egypt. We saw bits and pieces of the Parthenon. Where can I find a Tesco to buy a cheap memory card and test it on the camera? I'm sure Tesco sells SD-cards. Wes and I grumbled when we couldn't find any prehistoric stuff. Apparently those are at another museum. Wes took some really interesting shots, but pictures would have to wait until he sends them over.

After British Museum (and a hearty lunch outside the museum with me having my first taste of breaded whitebait, fish & chips, Boston pie, bread & custard pudding and cranberry Snapple - thanks Wes, for officiating my pigginess) we finally found a SD-card in Argos and voila! It's not the camera after all! *phew* Maybe I killed the original card by inserting it into my lappy the night before to transfer pictures. Aiyaaaaa.

Proceeded to Baker Street for Madame Tussaud's. The tube station walls are peppered with weird colourful tiles like these. Upon closer inspection, I realised that they were...

"Baker Street is where Sherlock Holmes used to reside," Wes said nonchalantly.

I would've deduced so if given more time. Honest. How come I didn't know about this? I thought I read some Sherlock Holmes back in primary school. And there's an episode in CSI about the man, right? Grrrr. Spending one whole day with a Singaporean made me more kiasu than usual.

Finally arrived at Madame Tussaud's, but... we gave up upon seeing the crowd. Not a good idea to come on a weekend. Even if we manage to not pass out from queuing up with 50 rowdy schoolchildren and 35 loud parents dishing out threats to said schoolchildren, we wouldn't have a chance to get good pictures in there. So in the end we decided to...

London Day Trip

2007-07-14T01:42:00.001+02:00

Bel wanted to go into Central to look for jobs in bookstores. I needed to get a book for my airport reading pleasure next week, find out how to take a bus into Central London from my area (actually it's from Bel's area, there's just no direct bus from my place), and also try out my new, lovingly borrowed camera (I love you long time, Bel!) for my Netherlands trip.

Bel's Canon semi-pro kicks my Olympus point-and-shoot's puny ass. So many buttons to push, levers to control, and instructions to remember. My fingers are crossed to the verge of bones breaking out of skin - please don't let this camera die on me. I need my holidaying pictures. And I'm too broke to buy a replacement if anything should happen to Bel's. Think positive think positive.

So we hit the most touristy part of town: Leicester Square and Trafalgar Square. I'm damn happy because I finally bought a nailclipper (you have no idea how difficult it is for me to find this in London! And I'm a bit sick of biting nails to keep them short - tummy worms are making bulging tummy bulgier!) and also... Stephen King's latest book! At half price from Waterstone's!

I now have sunshine, new camera, new nailclipper, and a new book from my favouritest author. Life is good. Oooooh there're plenty more pictures I took from new camera in my Multiply.

electropop

2007-07-12T23:22:00.001+02:00

There you go: chips with curry sauce. I know a lot of you have been asking me what's this funny-name concoction, so here it is in full pictorial glory. British chips aren't American chips (sliced potato crisps like Pringles), but they're not fries or wedges either. Usually eaten with curry/barbeque/sweet and sour/satay sauce, or sore finger.

Note: Anyone who can decipher what's sore finger will get him/herself a pint of Ben & Jerry's of his/her choice. Hint: Put yourself in shoes and think with the English of a Chinese Chinese takeaway person. Took me days to figure it out. (yeah well selling flied lice ain't my lifelong ambition okay)

Anyway I'm officially addicted to the annoying British chips with curry sauce, eating a box of them every shift (thank God I work 2 nights a week) and turning a deaf ear to chef's warning of expanding buttocks and combusting weighing scales. I blame the curry sauce. A bastardisation of the authentic curry, but imagine a rich, thick yellow gravy brewed to smooth perfection using apples, oranges (beats me, too) and other weird secret ingredients... it's the yummm-ness.

And since we're on the topic of being British-ified, I have to raise my hand and admit another addiction... something I've scoffed at prior to getting ready for London life - electropop. Having sworn off music with synthesizers since I came off the NKOTB and Guys Next Door fever 15 years ago... I'm getting sucked right into the belly of the techno trippy boppy whale again. Alongside plankton and dead fish hurled my direction from my R&B-only clubbing gang.

I introduced Dragonette to Boo before I fled the country and she liked their music too. Yeah that's right, throw the squids and crustaceans at her! She's in KL, nearer! I mean, what's there not to like? Bright and loaded with the happiest catchy beats, very very danceable-to. And diabetes-inducing honey gravy vocals from Martina Sorbara - I can imagine myself plotting her mysterious disappearance and taking over. Not sure if anyone'd wanna Youtube the MV of the songs then, though. Favourite track from the album Galore: I Get Around.

Before my brains recover from reeling with happy boppiness and decaying seafood, they discovered Faithless. Of all the 4 names I'm discussing today, I must say Faithless has the most diverse sounds within an album. From subdued techno-beats to ambient lounge-beats and even pop, everyone can find his/her own favourite song from To All New Arrivals. Get ready for one helluva psychedelic technicolour ride. Favourite track: Bombs. Interesting find: The female vocals in Last This Day sounded too similar to Dido for comfort so I Wikipediaed and by golly, she's the sister of Faithless's headman and one song from each of their albums featured her. Now that's what I call family.

Si introduced me to Fischerspooner and The Faint. Heard the former in his car heading towards Ikea and let me tell you, Odyssey is meant for just that. Lazy Sunday afternoon drives with no particular destination. The hypnotic, soothing, almost-conversational vocals will make skies bluer, clouds puffier and minds emptier. (still aware of traffic, of course) Their music reminds me of my ex-happysong, Tracking Treasure Down by Gabriel & Dresden. I like songs I can clap along to! Favourite track: hmmmmm this is a tough one. What can I say, this is my favourite album of all.

The Faint has a rock edge to their music. Must be because they're from the States. Whoever heard of American electropop, eh? Very generous use of the synths in Danse Macabre (didn't Stephen King have a book with this title?), catchy tunes and beats but you probably wouldn't wanna listen to them after midnight when your next-door neighbour is a cranky 75-year-old Greek lady. I'd feature The Faint in a futuristic battle-of-the-robots kinda movie. Battle-of-the-futuristic-humans must feature Prodigy. Hehehe.

Okay enough of music talk. In a gist, electropop can be cool. Pathfinders, you guys better experiment more on Fruityloops and send me some happiness, dammit.

shopping

2007-07-09T14:20:00.001+02:00

The sun came out to play during the weekend. Sitting in the car, stuck in a traffic jam going to the mall, looking up at fat clouds lazily strolling across blue skies, Muse on the player, air-cond blowing into my face... it felt just like home!

Anyway, the Ogress went to the mall for some shopping. Yes you read it right. The words "Jess" and "shopping" co-existed harmoniously in the same sentence. But I shouldn't do it too often. One can go out of her mind during Summer Sale. Everything is so cheap, dammit! (I've tuned my brains to not convert every single item into RM. Must. Think. Dollar. To. Dollar. Pound. To. Pound.)

On second thought: Aragon, you best not come London-lah. I retract my invitation to keep your sanity in good health.

Thank goodness I had only 10pounds in my wallet. Never in my previous KL life could I imagine paying RM7 for a pair of La Senza knickers. They're like the Tag Heuer of undies, non? It took all the willpower I had to not saunter over to the bra section and its evil, flashing 70% OFF EVERYTHING! sign. I want to upgrade from Triumph and Wacoal, dammit!

And what is the Jess without her happy-panties? Now I don't have to beg and grovel to friends to buy happy-panties from Target and mail them to me anymore. Finally. I have enough panties in my collection to not do laundry for one and a half week! Yay!

It's been very, very long since I'm a size-S, too. I love the UK!

decadence

2007-07-05T14:14:00.002+02:00

Decadence (n) : unrestrained or excessive self-indulgence.

When ice-cream costs less than any McDonald's McSavers meal, it's not excessive. It's simply, the smarter choice. (no no I've cancelled my Digi number)

meaning of gifts

2007-07-04T13:55:00.001+02:00

When a man buys you a French press (fine, it's called cafetière here) when you moan about not being able to have good coffee like back home (Boo I miss our coffee-lah!), it could mean a lot of things. Maybe he likes your company, and by getting a French press you could have more coffee chatting sessions. Or, he's just getting it for you because he happened to see one when he's out buying stuff, and he's not calculative enough (or too shy) to ask for money back.

When a man hears about how your aunt in New York says Krispy Kremes are good and a must-try in London, and he surprises you with not one, but a dozen of different flavours, I think he must like you a little bit to remember details like this, and actually make the effort to spring a pleasant surprise at you. Ok fine, 3 donuts were eaten prior to taking of picture. Cannot abstain.

But when a man dashes out to get you a plunger for your clogged-up shower 10 minutes before the shops close just so you can shower without fear of flooding the house...

I wanted to say "I can feel the luuuuurve" but it's a rather sensitive word this side of the universe, so I shall play safe and say "he must really like you a lot".

out of the blue

2007-07-01T20:31:00.001+02:00

Shit on a schtick I've been so lazy. Someone give me a good hard kick on the butt! The past few days were a blur, went to an interview, then moped around refusing to send out more CVs, forcing self to be convinced that the job is mine, then got a call from interviewer-guy who apologetically told me no because they don't want to go through the hassle of converting my visa into a proper work-permit in a year's time, then moped around even more berating self for moping around.

So anyway it's another Sunday. Already.

Last Sunday I went to Out Of The Blue at the O2/Millennium Dome, Greenwich. It was more fun than Mirage (no I'm not saying this because there's food and coffee and dessert involved at the O2)!

Colourful slinky-costumed women posed and offered to be posed with at the entrance. They stuck around for 15-20 minutes then left. Actually, that's the pattern of the performances. Between intervals of 30 minutes or so, some other performers would come out and pose and be posed with. Quite refreshing.

These silver jurassic birds with weird honking noises coming out of loudspeakers placed on their asses (ok ok, back of their thighs) and Marilyn Manson were my favourite.

Lunch! Mmmm! Damn I miss my Sakae Sushi's kakiage and Sagano's beef teppanyaki. But sushi here in London ain't half bad. (in retrospect, I guess that's exactly what real Japanese people would say when eating sushi in Malaysia maybe, hehe)

Giant seafood inflatables! Good thing they cordon off the Lobster Opening Oyster To Release Pearl show area. Rambunctious kids bouncing on the open oyster would further confuse the lobster, who's slow and retarded-looking (grab the damn pearl already! why release it when you don't want to grab it? i cannot live not understanding the logic!)...

Luckily my brains were saved from further messing by a good steaming cup of latte and chocolate marshmallow brownie (wah so sweet my teeth can fall off). I thought Baskin's Rocky Road isn't so sweet. Hmmm.

Next stop: London Bridge and the obligatory photo evidence. Nevermind it's raining cats and dogs and I was freezing cold. I actually had an umbrella in my bag but didn't want to use it because I didn't know where to keep a wet umbrella when I'm done using it. Yes, you may beat my head with it.

At times like these it's probably apt to play London Bridge Is Falling Down at half the normal tempo with er-hu accompaniment. Only the falling down would be done by the Ogress not the bridge. See how grey everything is? Welcome to the everyday London.

Next stop: Camden. The market's closed, the lock's deserted, the shops on the main street are mostly closed. Unbelievable right, at 8pm or so on a Sunday. Supermarkets close at 4 or 5pm on Sundays, even. Culture clash kao-kao. No syok at all.

Did manage to take quite a nice picture at Camden Lock though. Nevermind it's got no lock-action. (and no, it's Lock not Loch) Nevermind there're many people whispering and whistling to sell you illegal stuff as you walk past. Had to make many detours walking back to the tube station!

Finally, wet and tired, dinner! Don't tell my current boss that I'm eating from a competitor! They make really good curry and beef kuey-teow (kuey-teow only available to Malaysians by request) though, albeit being a tad too pricey. And no, I don't eat naked. It's just the angle ok!

weight loss

2007-06-28T01:49:00.000+02:00

I lost 4kg.

Would've hollered and jumped in unadulterated joyful delirium under normal circumstances. But not this.

Because I lost them from my breasts. I cannot hold up my tube top anymore.

What the hell? Take my childbearing thighs or waist waste or bye-bye meat cannot?

I must learn how to stand on my hands and hope for gravity to work its magic.

saturday

2007-06-25T17:47:00.001+02:00

Mirage promised to be a "ravishing processional performance, evoking the landscapes and traditions of Africa inspired by travels in Ethiopia and South Africa" according to the website, so I went.

We were about 10-20 minutes late from the stipulated time, 9.36pm (??!!) but when we finally arrived at Roman Road to be pleasantly ravished, all we saw was a scattered small crowd. There were more law enforcement officials than audience, even.

Then there was a ruckus from afar, some smoke and strobe lighting... and Indian music. And thus, voodoo robots with flashing elongated nipple-like eyebulbs were summoned.

Breathing in the heady, exotic African (mixed with ciggie) smoke and staring hypnotised at flashing lights exploding from the top of the heads of Tall People surrounding me... all I could do was helplessly give up on my struggling efforts... and passed the camera to the taller one. No way I could stretch my arm high enough to get a decent shot. And no way could I accept the offer for a shoulder-ride because I certainly don't look 5, and/or someone might throw a bottle at me from the back, if my kind and noble steed hasn't died of a crushed spine or torn body part or both. Yes, because I'm that heavy, see.

And yes, those were real people (not real African performers though, sadly) marching with half-opened real umbrellas. Why were they neither closed nor open, I don't know. Just like how I don't know why the dancers screeched and snarled with teeth bared at the audience. Must be the ever-watchful, ever-bright voodoo robot's eyes at the back.

More screeching and snarling performers slamming painted aluminium hoarding. Maybe a lot of them couldn't see well in the dark and slammed hoarding on toes, hence the screeches and snarls. Maybe they're even paid to do that for more realistic and rich screeches! *horrified* I didn't enjoy this segment. They sounded similar, but not as good as, my high school brass band. They looked dissimilar from, and not as good as, videos I've seen of Stomp! and the likes. Part of the reason, also, could be because there was an old couple with the woman in wheelchair stuck in the middle of the crowd with no one offering to let them get to the front. I felt irritated enough not being able to see anything but she's at my waist-level! And I didn't see that many interesting-looking butts that night.

Speaking of wheelchairs, a few blokes were strapped on to them and made to play drums while being pulled backwards with lampshades over their heads. Sure hard to see their facial expressions from the layers of paint, this one captured and forever frozen by camera had to be bewilderment. I'd be too, if I remind people of a cymbals-crashing wind-up monkey.

Next up, fire. A burst of flame of any size and the crowd oooh-ed and aaah-ed. Nevermind it's an armadillo on fire with more fire shooting out of its ass.

Man hanging from a giant horn pulling acrobatic stunts with fire cackling merrily down below. I like roasting my chicken wing at BBQs this far above the fire too. Mind you, it probably takes longer to cook the wing, but the meat's evenly cooked and juicy and not burnt to a crisp on one end, and uncooked on the other. And I don't know why but it seems apt to bring in the subject now.

More and more giant African animals roamed the streets of Bow. By this time I was sick of trooping behind the procession up and down the street like an extra in some horror movie where the villagers march up to the giant tree to burn the witch. So we stood on the pavement somewhere and just snapped pictures of whatever's passing by.

The grand finale. Ooooh. Aaaah.

weekend

2007-06-23T03:00:00.000+02:00

The weekend's here! I swear, I'm gonna get my lazy arse up and go do something. I missed Daft Punk at Hyde Park last Saturday. Could only look at the housemate forlornly as she donned sunglasses and head off to dance with her friends.

And I'm absolutely gutted after reading Glen's blog and seeing the pictures he took at the Muse gig in Wembley Stadium. I. So. Fucking. Want. To. Go. But. Am. Too. Broke.

So that's what I missed last Saturday. And Sunday? Muse played at Wembley again, this time with MCR as one of the supporting act. Only one word for me: Gutted.

Muse will be headlining Oxegen at Punchestown, Ireland on 7 July. Anybody wanna (please please) bring me there (please please please) and I love you long looooong time?

chinese takeaway

2007-06-22T14:48:00.000+02:00

So I've started work at a Chinese takeaway about 30 minutes from where I live. I'll be working two nights a week, and then maybe three once I learn the menu back-to-back and not stare at the computer screen with finger frozen in mid-air.

Yesterday the boss cooked me a plate of chicken chow-mein before starting work. First thought that crossed my mind was "THIS is Chinese fried noodles?!!"

Don't get me wrong, the food's fine. It just doesn't taste... Chinese. No wonder the real Chinese never order Chinese takeaways. Nevermind, the British folks love to order chips (a cross between potato wedges and french fries for you Malaysians back home) with curry sauce, so I ladled some curry sauce onto my chicken chow-mein, and...

"THIS is curry?!!"

Food culture clash kao-kao. At least the cook cooks real Chinese fare for dinner, simple as the dishes may be. I miss my plain rice swimming in oily veggie/meaty gravy like craaaaaaaazy.

southgate

2007-06-19T12:21:00.002+02:00

Everybody, welcome to the quiet, peaceful neighbourhood of Southgate. This is the street I live on, my house is the brown one in the middle. I really like this place. Let me tell you why.

There's an amazing backyard garden where my housemate, Mark plants real vegetables and flowers. I love houses with a functional green pocket. On a sunny day (like today *dance*) we can hang out laundry to dry in the breeze and absorb the refreshing aroma of unadulterated nature. The grass here is so much greener. No, seriously. I didn't Photoshop this picture.

My room is amazingly spacious and cosy at the same time. Very inspiring, romantic lighting too (alas, no takers for any form of romanticising yet). The room opens out to the living/dining area which nobody really uses. The only qualm I have is the quietness that comes with a room without windows. I'm slowly getting used to it, though.

The closest I came to being romantic was actually, all in my head. But many good pictures were taken in my room. Hence I love my room. And I really, really like this picture. (shurrup)

I was initially appalled at the tininess of the kitchen area but since everybody cooks at different times (not to mention I spent about a week at a uni dorm with a HUGE kitchen before this) it's really quite adequate. Barely a week into living here and I know how to operate the microwave, gas stove, washing machine and hot water shower system! Stuff that I've never touched back in Malaysia.

Anyone who wants to drop by for dinner, let me know. Rescue my poor brains from incessant racking of what and how to cook for one person. Now that I'm still jobless I have a lot of time in hand and mood to experiment (medical bills not covered for volunteers, though), better make full use of it while the offer lasts!

london day 3

2007-06-18T12:28:00.001+02:00

Let's backdate a bit to my third day in London. Went for more touristy sight-seeing with Si and my camera died. Which, I'm sure, has no significant relation to Si's awesome sense of humour and charm. Anyway some pictures were successfully retrieved from demised camera and although there should be 29846 more, the following would have to suffice for now.

No London trip would be complete without a walk along the river to London Eye. Too bad the weather couldn't provide a better backdrop (the sun went into early mourning knowing in advance that my camera is about to die a tragic death), hence perfectly bland pictures this round.

A closer look at the London Eye. Wonder if the rip-off Eye of Malaysia look anything similar. But hey, we have fireworks every weekend compared to the once-a-year New Year's Eve fireworks at London Eye. I'm not paying 14.50 pounds to get on something that'll make me barf. The one-time 15-minute ordeal on Eurowheel is enough, thank you. London Eye is 30.

When we came up to this, Si said "you must know what this is" and actually I didn't know and could care less about anything else besides how much my feet were hurting (I thought I could skank it up walking about in heels, but hell I didn't know this much walk can happen in London) but I just threw a semi-enthusiastic "wow, Big Ben" (not very big also) which was promptly blown away by the strong wind slapping into my face. But yeah, it is Big Ben (thanks to postcard sent by Shaun a few years back).

I seriously had no clue what this quaint-looking medieval building is. Was educated about the Houses of Parliament (where real parliamentary meetings still take place! no leaky roofs here I bet!), otherwise known as The Palace of Westminster.

Salvador Dali and his... egg. My brains will explode if I attempt to decipher the message his sculptures try to convey. Of course, at that time said brains were too preoccupied with robotic loops of "when can I sit when can I sit when can I sit".

Finally I sat. Found empty benches along the river where I could rest my poor toesies. And this is the last picture my camera took before following the three monkeys into blue oblivion. I wonder what message my camera was trying to send me.

green green grass of...

2007-06-16T21:32:00.000+02:00

Picture stolen from Nene who went back to Canada with hubby a while back. Now that I'm out of Malaysia a scenario like this with me as lead actress is 90% more possible to happen. I can, you know, totally, you know, relate to the dynamics of this picture.

I have the grass (the type not to be inhaled, eejit).
I have the grey (marble?) stone buildings.
I have the occasional sunny weather.

So what's the 10%?
I just don't have her youthful, non-childbearing thighs and tight bod, dammit.

Oh ya. I'll also need me a bloke.

camera died

2007-06-13T17:16:00.000+02:00

So my Olympus Mju-700 died on my third day in London. My fun plan to travel-blog and picture-whore is buggered. Now is mad scramble to email/msn/text the relevant persons back home to help me dig out the warranty card and find out IF I really do still have one. Aiya this is really not an "ong" start to my great big adventure. Thank goodness I have quite a few good friends around (already!) to help drown the sorrows and numb the pain.

I've found myself a room up north in Southgate, about 30 minutes from central London. YC will be helping me move my remaining stuff there later when she's back. The adorable Si was a darling in accompanying me do auntifying household-shopping last night, so tonight I'll only need to buy items that I missed out. Which is quite a lot actually. Dammit, does brain capacity decreases parallel to gravitational pull once I haul ass up the northern hemisphere? I really like my room, nehmind that fact it's converted from a living room and has no windows. A teeny-weeny bit stuffy now but I'd be thankful once winter comes! The neighbourhood is wonderful as well. I'll be staying with 2 other Malaysian girls, a Hong Kong girl and a British guy. We shall see what kinda interesting stories unfold at home from now, but so far I've got only the nicest things to say about them. And my bed... ooooooh my bed... very very very comfy. And I'm not saying this because I've slept on the floor in a sleeping bag for almost a week. Honest.

I baked yesterday and cooked lunch today. This is always the case, innit, never wanna learn anything about preparing food back home and get thrown into the deep end once you're in a foreign place and eating out costs a bomb. Thankfully my first solo cooking mission went quite well. The recipients were mopping all the gravy clean with bread slices. Wah, such a purr-worthy ego-stroking session. Makes me want to stay longer just to cook and not look for a proper job... but alas, cannot.

london - 2nd day

2007-06-11T09:51:00.001+02:00

On Saturday, still fighting lethargy from time difference (please ignore horrendous eye-bags in pictures) and the surreal-ness of REALLY being in London, I met up with Bel, another Malaysian working holidaymaker. It's amazing how fast strangers can become friends in a short span of time in a foreign place. And how skinny she really is. Bitch! Hahaha. (Bel, if you're reading this, I love you okay? Just very jealous)

We went to Covent Garden first. Bel said she's been the unofficial tour-guide of many a Malaysian tourist in London now, even though she's only been here less than a month. Nevermind the fact she studied in London before, but it's funny how tourists (who do their homework, mind you) seem to know where to go and what to see better than the locals, more often than not. But anyway, there're a lot of people pretending to be statues in Covent Garden to make money. The paint can't be good for the skin... tsk tsk.

There's also this guy who swallowed balloon swords. Less hazardous to skin, but more tendency and practice to smuggle drugs packed into condoms?

Actually-leh, the reason we went to Covent Garden is to see the Malaysian Week carnival thing. But what a disappointment. So small (like Heathrow... hmm maybe I should stop having any expectations from now) with a measly array of stuff. Even the fashion show didn't truly reflect our vibrant culture. What's with the funeral garb on the ladies wei?

Can you imagine how filthy RICH I can get if I start selling Malaysian food here? If only I know how to cook... dammit. Wonder what's the procedure to apply for a London Ramly Burger stall license. I know a lot of people miss the Ramly burgers. Sure one.

The satay is 1 pound per stick, ok. I wonder what would the British people queuing up for it think if they know they can get about 14 sticks for 1 pound in Malaysia? But okay-lah, they even have the ketupat and nasi himpit for sale so still quite authentic.

Then we moved to watch more British stuff. Musicians, unicylist, painters... it's the English Pasar Seni! Although, the Malaysian musicians are more shy to come right up to you and ask for money. I felt really bad for not giving, since I might be the next one singing on the streets... but it'd be rather awkward if I put my sole 20-pound bill into the basket and ask if I can have change.

Bel said this is Covent Garden's landmark picture. "The roof the roof! Must remember to take!" So I took-loh. Nothing interesting inside the market though. Pasar Seni-lah.

Then we went to Chinatown! Well, almost like Petaling Street, this one. Just 2 streets of miscellaneous Chinese shops selling miscellaneous foodstuff and sex toys.

Trafalgar Square. Who cares about the National Museum Gallery or whatever behind when there's a dolphin fountain? OooooOooo *stare transfixed* Oh I just realised I haven't been to any museums or galleries since I came to London. Nehmind, plenty of time for everything...

Highlight of my Saturday has to be this: oil protest naked bike ride! (Si, I owe you a big big one for this information) And for the first time Bel asked me to take a picture of her. She's so sick of the previous few touristy spots (been there a couple hundreds of times, I'm sure) she didn't wanna be in any picture. But this...

Multiply the amount of nekkid people seen here by 10 and that's the approximate amount of British dangly bits and udders Bel and I saw. The initial shyness gave way to sheer awe at such majestic sights as out camera shutters clicked away.

Not sure if it's a good idea posting frontals up here (no don't shut down my blog! all these are for educational purposes I swear) so here's a little sneak peek at what we feasted our hungry Malaysian eyes upon. Muahaha. Hot blonde in middle is a host of some telly programme or something like that. She went around interviewing random nekkid males and measured their wee-wees.

Don't you just love England already? And last but not least... a surprise beautiful discovery at Hyde Park...

Isn't he the most precious, beautiful pan-asian baby ever? Aiya I also wanna make one like this-lah! Sure can beat any Utt or Colby or random Channel [V] host. Then I'll be a rich model/host's hot momma! (hot because I'll be leeching money off my kid to go for cosmetic procedures)

london - 1st day

2007-06-09T22:59:00.001+02:00

After a harrowing week of endless packing and stress and driving and lugging heavy furniture... I'm finally in London. Which, strangely... doesn't feel that much different from home. Just more... white people.

Heathrow Airport is very much smaller than what I imagined. Compared to KLIA and Changi, can't blame me for having high expectations. Why like LCCT only one.

Every office and residential building in London looks so... different. Quaint. Like storybook illustrations, or or, them pop-up paper books!

So I went to YC's uni pad, chuck my stuff down, tried to nap a bit (I flew for more than 13 hours dammit) but ended up yakking with YC... so we decided since I'm not sleeping we'd might as well freshen up and go out, because the Ogress brought sunshine to London with her! (don't be fooled by my bright and comfy appearance, my brains weren't actually functioning)

So many posh cars in Barbican! I wonder if they belong to the students or teachers of Barts And The London.

The famous quaint black cabs of London city. Yes I notice I say "quaint" a lot. I can mimic the British accent quite alright too, in short sentences, like "can I top up my reload card, please" and "this is my number, call me" (I wish).

Yeah, fairy tale castle spots like these just pop up in the most surprising places like mushrooms after the rain. And this is just the city... not the real countryside giant castles! Those are gonna be so much more romantic... *swoon*

St Paul's Cathedral was within walking distance from Barbican so we covered that after getting meself a prepaid Vodafone card. Nevermind that we walked to Bank and Chancery Lane as well. And grocery shopping at Sainsbury in Angel too. (yes, I know you're probably very confused now but I have to show off my newfound London geographical knowledge)

I saw pigeons kissing on a stone table in St Paul's Cathedral! Awwww how schweet... until they proceeded to get it on right there and then. I tried to take some shots but hands were too jittery from laughing. Pictures turned out unblogworthy.

I'm on a double-decker bus! Finally! I know I know, it's just a very big picture of my Ogress face, but look carefully and you can see the angmohs behind me. No bluff one!

When the sun comes out, all the kingdom creatures come out to play as well. Back in Malaysia people who do this would be labelled as gila.

stress

2007-05-28T08:00:00.000+02:00

Stress. You know you have hit a new high when you walk down from level 4 of the carpark, ready to walk across to the office separated by a heavy blanket of rain, only to realise the umbrella you thought you were holding... was actually a box of tissue.

What the fuck indeed. 10 more days!

cosmetic surgeon

2007-05-26T11:48:00.000+02:00

Met a friend of a friend who's a cosmetic surgeon. No Christian Troy, but he sure knows how to take care of his appearance. Not sure about his marketing skills though.

"You know, Jess, you actually have the potential to be really beautiful!"

"Uh huh, I bet you say that to every woman you talk to."

"No, really. You only need VERY minimal pick-me-ups compared to many others."

"You just need to make your face sharper, nose smaller, eyebrows higher, double eyelids more prominent, eye bags disappear and lips fuller!"

"......"

Kids, be very, very careful what you choose as your internet nickname. You might just become it.

pirates

2007-05-24T20:04:00.001+02:00

So we got free tickets to Pirates. The show's good, Simon and I spotted and bitched about many "celebrity" bloggers who were present, met up with some people we know from the same industry... but somehow it just wasn't enjoyable.

Why #1? Aggy got the shits. She left halfway through the show and didn't return after 15 minutes. Nobody else seemed too concerned so my maternal instincts kicked in and convinced myself that she's fainted in the loo. However much I hate to be interrupted during a movie, I got up and fumbled all the way up to the back to the cinema (nevermind we're seated third row from the front) and shouted her name in the loo. No reply. Many occupied cubicles though. Ah dammit. Should I kick down the doors? Knock first? How?! Then I positioned myself as the imaginary poo-ing person in the cubicle. Wah, very malufying to be knocked on...

So anyway... >>fast forward>> I decided to take a walk outside to see if she's there, or ask the guard if he's seen her... when she came up the escalator, from the mall. Hmmm. Apparently she christened the loo on every floor of the mall with her... condition!

I think Why #2 is far worse. Being an event for ad agencies to get together, it's only courteous to mingle around (read: ogle at other agencies' sizzling hot scantily clad AEs) a bit and horror upon horror, people started asking for our namecards! Good Lord is that legal? The act of exchanging namecards surely cannot be proper and polite? How can it be, when the employees of our company don't even get one after working for 3 years? Certainly our bosses won't do this to us! Well, Aggy, Yap and I have just been with the agency for a year... our presence is barely felt, like disposable underwear. Why couldn't people just leave us alone to wallow in our gloominess without rubbing salt to the wound? I bet Roy feels even worse, being with the company for 3 years now and not being acknowledged as an employee even.

This sucks. Oh well... ONE MORE WEEK!

Thank goodness Inmagine gave us good goodie bags. Hurrah!

spontaneity

2007-05-22T06:28:00.001+02:00

During the weekend I decided to take a spontaneous drive back to the hometown. I need to make space in the room to see what are the stuff I need to pack to the UK, send to the new apartment, give away or keep at the parents'. I enjoy my solitary long drives once in a while.

I started the 195km drive late afternoon. The journey saw me driving from urban landscapes (and also balancing the camera on the steering wheel while keeping an eye on the road)...

... to rural roads with panoramic paddy fields, oil palm plantations and plenty fantastic views the camera (and my dangerous driving) couldn't capture.

It felt good to be in familiar territory again. Although, familiar isn't the right description. So much have changed since I left 10 years ago. I don't know anyone off the street whom I can wave and smile to anymore. Even the kids who climb the huge tree in front of my house look at me warily. I helped to build the first tree house there, you young punks. Although, there's nothing left on the tree but a rotting plank now.

I started the drive back to the city earlier. Hence the blue skies and fluffy clouds. Damn heat gave me an earth-shattering headache that lasted for 2 days, though.

Tiring weekend but I started work on Monday with a smile.

2007-05-16T08:26:00.000+02:00

Yesterday Boss Man #1 gave the studio 6 free tickets to Pirates (courtesy of a supplier). This morning Boss Man #2 screamed at everything and everyone and threatened to close down the company. The air smells like simmering anger, sighs of resignation and I-don't-give-a-fuck-anymore-ness. Not exactly chirpy, morally uplifting times.

If more than 10 years of experience give strength and consistency, why do I feel like I'm walking into a house of cards every morning? If the established culture and system has worked and can work for a long time to come, why do most feel unmotivated and unappreciated?

Solid foundation. Sound experience. Bosses who're not suing each other. What's wrong with the picture?

Change. Everyone is afraid of the big word. Try to avoid it. But little by little, it seeps in. With every new employee. With every old one that leaves. Still we numb ourselves and plough on day after day, taking cautious little steps to not upset the balance that requires Change to join the game. Because, let's face it. Change is a cunning motherfucker that could work just about any way. She's so unpredictable, so unsafe, so... daring. Nobody likes to play with Change, she is like the hi-so butterfly that everyone discusses and secretly yearns to follow but in real life, seldom does.

Change is my middle name. Often guised under other names like Curiosity, Adventurousness, Irresponsibility et cetera. With Change, time passes slower, every sensation more exquisite, every face more interesting.

Maybe, one day I'll divorce Change and settle like everyone else. Maybe. Right now I’m still boarding the plane. Nevermind I'm scared and worried like hell.

Hello again, Change.

birthday week

2007-05-11T08:10:00.001+02:00

And so it is... (*swoon* Damien Rice)

My 28th birthday week came and went. A whole week of unadulterated pleasure and fulfilling of desires without inhibition. After a month of eating at the right time/amount, exercising at the right frequency, getting stuck with needles at the right places... I let everything go and just ate. And ate. And scoffed at exercise. Or being extra-conscious about health. (just heard from a friend I can pay for preventive jabs that last up to a year for flu and other common ailments)

Had dimsum with mum, brother and his girlfriend when mum came up for a visit. Food kinda sucked but it's been a long time since we've sat down to eat together, so it was good.

Had my favourite kimchi hotpot with rice with my favourite college friends, and although that was the third time in a row the same week I've been having that, it was good.

Thank you, my beautiful colleagues. For insisting to have Korean barbeque with me on my real birthday, even though we're all tired and worked late and only had an hour to gobble down food. You guys are the best colleagues one can ask for, seriously. You guys are the only thing I will miss when I leave the company. Our friendship will be the only thing I have from here, because I don't even have a namecard after one whole year of service and nobody's gonna believe I was an employee here before. I hope you do, in your memory.

Had our favourite bottomless drinks at Chilli's with the bandboys. Although there were hiccups over transport arrangements and timing, it's been a while since I last saw you guys and it'll be a while before we see each other again after I'm gone (if I don't get deported before setting foot into London, that is... *shudder*) but before I say my proper mushy tearful goodbyes and all...

... Estranged is playing at Laundry tomorrow night! Let's GO wei!

on tattoos

2007-05-02T17:40:00.000+02:00

Aragon asked my opinion on the dragonfly tattoo she's going to get. And I realised she could be the fifth person I send to Borneo Ink (I should start asking for commission from Eddie and Simon), and out of the five, four are Christians. Have I been leading the flock astray?

Many Christians quote Leviticus 19:28 as support that Christians should never get a tattoo. Hello?! The laws in the book of Leviticus, from what I understand, were meant to keep the Israelites healthy and holy. Then Jesus came and our saving grace is through His humanity and death. Hence a New Law, New Covenant and New Testament. No, I'm not manipulating the fact that His sacrifice will cover whatever sins we're to commit (I know there's still Paul's tricky Romans 14:20-21). But from my tattoos I've managed to discuss my faith with more people, usually with the initial "I thought Christians aren't supposed to have tattoos or pierced ears!" which is an awesomely easy starting point.

Did my tattoos make me succumb to Satan's wiles? I don't think so. My vile ways aren't the tattoos' doings. The ink under my skin actually increased my ability to witness to others (not to mention increased convenience to recover torn limbs if my plane crashes). Now, it's working harder on the staying obedient part so tattoo parlours don't get torched by angry parents/church leaders. Jesus loves everyone, including the tattoo artist, pub owner and pirated DVD seller ya. Take a chill pill.

Do I regret my body art? Hell no.
MAN LOOKS AT THE OUTSIDE. GOD LOOKS AT THE HEART.
I don't question someone's motive for getting inked. That's between the individual and his/her God. So the next time *you* want to point your finger at whatever I'm not doing right with the precious young 'uns whom you think I'm influencing, maybe you should get a tattoo as well, and take my burden from being a shining example for them (under microscopic scrutiny nonetheless) off. They might think you're cooler and hang out with you instead. Yay.

the farmer's in the dell

2007-04-29T17:29:00.000+02:00

My desktop is broken! *wail* I don't know if it is a good or bad thing, but finally I'm starting to use the Dell (which, shall henceforth be known as Dellia) and figuring out where to put my elbows. For documentation sake, they've been on my knees now for the past hour and dammit my back hurts, sitting here on the bed fingering Dellia on a chair. I've gotta find a more comfortable position to get acquainted with this hot (and getting hotter by the minute) thing.

Wonder what went wrong with the desktop. BSOD just because I downloaded Daemon Tools to play Diablo? Mmmmmf. Nevermind, the cheapest expert ever is coming tomorrow (cheapest not because of skill/patience but he only needs a burger and iced lemon tea as payment) and if all resuscitation efforts fail... we can always reformat.

Which reminds me... where the heck are all my hardware CDs? Shit on a stick.

Anyway I found this band picture I took of the boys which I like very much.

Say it with me now: orrrrrrrrrrrrrrsome photo skillzzzzah...

mysterious

2007-04-28T14:42:00.000+02:00

I *think* I know now what's the main cause of my frequent inexplicable bouts of nausea, headache and fatigue. I went to the optometrist to stock up my contact lenses to bring over to the UK (Aggy says it's real expensive over there) and since I haven't had my eyes checked for the past two years, I thought I should.

Good thing I did. My power actually went down. How something like that happens, I have no idea. Maybe hyperopia is showing some early-stage symptoms? Tumour? Dammit I've gotta stop being so grey. Point is, I've been wearing the wrong shit for so long it's amazing my eyes and brains haven't given up on me.

I should probably get new glasses too now that the power's different. Yes that's a paper clip in my hair. If only I wasn't so broke, dammit!

concert and play

2007-04-25T11:15:00.000+02:00

I've never heard of any concert that requires a round of balloting to decide who are the lucky few allowed to fork out dough to purchase a pair of tickets. Yup, Live Earth is my first. The curious little girl in me registered for the ballot for kicks. And made a pact with Bel (another workingholidaymaker) that we are to bring each other if either one of us reaches the esteemed final stage of actually paying over RM300 for a ticket (what is the world decaying into... we're celebrating the fact that we can use our money!). It's not like the headliners for the concert are extremely impressive (hello Damien Rice) and flying the performers over with turbo fuel-guzzling, noxious fumes-exuding private jets will probably defeat the whole purpose of this "Concert for a Climate in Crisis" anyway. But hey, I'm not about to miss out on the UK summer musical extravaganza.

I didn't get selected.

But I got a better deal. I'm gonna catch Peter Shaffer's Equus, better known as "the controversial Harry Potter play that many parents protest about". On the final night of this season's run! Also my second night in London (I need the first to get the time difference right). So it's straight from Malaysia to London to Daniel Radcliffe's underaged todger for me. Yeeeeehaw!

Equus tells the story of a psychiatrist's attempts to treat a young man who causes senseless injury to horses. Wikipedia says the play is essentially a detective story, with the psychiatrist trying to understand the cause of the boy's actions while wrestling with his own sense of purpose. Bla bla bla, I'm there for the stable seduction scene.

Ooooh this gets me all flustered. You girls don't be jealous now, Jamie Bell will play Alan Strang the next season. No more Harry Potter but you can see Billy Elliot-lah.

If my friend tells me on Monday that the tickets are sold out, I will positively cry.

good charlotte

2007-04-22T16:47:00.001+02:00

I can't believe I walked out on a gig. After spending 2 hours to get to the venue, another 2 waiting for them to play... I left Good Charlotte's concert within 30 minutes without even a hint of regret. Sure, the instruments and arrangement were all tight. But they just lack the raw live stage power. I felt like watching a concert on telly. Gosh they say the stupidest things ever on stage.

"I see so many fine and hawwwt people here tonight!"
"I'm going to move here and have beautiful Malaysian babies!"
"I'll need a place to stay, someone to drive me around and a wife!"
What. The. Fuck. Wei.

They're definitely high on something before coming on.

A lot of people went. 80% were there because it's free. 10% were there to ogle at Denise, Utt and Colby. (Fazura who?) 10% were Good Charlotte's legion of screaming, goth highschool girl fans who're probably there because it's free and they can hold hands with their boyfriends without parents' friends or relatives bumping into them.

The opening acts were One Buck Short (too punk rock for my liking), Lo (not really a rock act but hey, Jonesy likes one of his song so...) and Estranged. I'm gonna coo and go on and on about Estranged starting from the next next sentence so if you don't like 'em you can be excused. And find me where they're playing at next while you're not reading this.

Estranged fucking ROCKED my socks! Powerful vocals, tight instruments, the right volume... everything a good head-banging rock experience should be! And ohmygoodiliciousness the drummer really is Azwin Andy. I always think drummers are the yums but Azwin... has got to be the epitome of yumness. Why oh WHY haven't I heard them play before? They're gonna play at Laundry on 12th May... anyone wanna come? C'mon, they totally owned Good Charlotte's asses, must see them live!

What a long wait. In between local acts. Waiting and waiting for the heroes of the night to come out (we didn't know it's gonna be a disappointment yet)... and watching the MV of Keep Your Hands Off My Girl for the 19083762th time... what else is there to do but... take pictures?

No self-respecting rock band drummer should ever pose like this, James. Ever. Leave that to Japanese schoolgirls. But hey, Good Charlotte hadn't come out and we were all in high spirits!

Don't even get me started on the fucking horrible rail transit system on the way back.

catch-22

2007-04-20T07:42:00.001+02:00

I have to really start packing and clearing out junk from the room (and also file my income tax return, but hey I still have a week) because ohmygoodness June is speeding towards me in full throttle and I'm panicking. So I took baby steps and started with the book cabinet... and discovered Catch-22, the book I borrowed from a cousin during Chinese New Year. I know this book is supposed to be a classic satirical history fiction, one of the great literary works of the 20th century, but dammit it's so hard to read. Very, very different from my usual Stephen King and the likes.

I'm still stuck at the first quarter. I don't feel like reading it at the toilet (too heavy), I don't wanna read it to wind down after a hard day's work (too much concentration required)... just can't find the time and mood. And my cousin has since flown to India for her dentistry course. But hey, now I know what's a catch-22. It's an idiom meaning "a no-win situation". Perhaps an excerpt from the book (yay I've read the most important part!) would be more enlightening:

"There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one's safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Orr [a character] was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions. Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn't, but if he was sane he had to fly them. If he flew them he was crazy and didn't have to; but if he didn't want to he was sane and had to. Yossarian [the story's hero] was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of this clause of Catch-22 and let out a respectful whistle."

...
...
...
Now you know why I say it's hard to read this book, right?

Of course, there're still the 24 books I bought at Payless's sale last year. And more from Bangkok. So many books to read, so little time... ah life!

politik

2007-04-15T15:38:00.000+02:00

I haven't registered as a voter. I don't know if what they say is true, that if you miss 3 general elections your citizenship will be revoked. But if I'm not even in the registered database I should be able to live in my remote corner of the world and blissfully ignore anything political.

Tsk tsk all you want, I've decided since 1996 that my dream human leader of the country/world doesn't exist. Because Bill Pullman isn't running for presidency the last time I checked.

"Good morning. In less than an hour, aircrafts from here will join others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind. Mankind — that word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can't be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interests. Perhaps its fate that today is the 4th of July, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom, not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution — but from annihilation. We're fighting for our right to live, to exist. And should we win the day, the 4th of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day when the world declared in one voice: We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to survive! Today, we celebrate our Independence Day!"

Yup, I still feel the fire in me BURNING after 11 years. Sweet speech. Sweet man.

nido

2007-04-14T04:52:00.001+02:00

It's been 3 months since my godbro's passing. I missed my opportunity to pay my last respects or attend his funeral, and I was quite depressed with that fact that I didn't say goodbye when I could. For the past 3 months I busied myself keeping on with moving on. Living so far apart, we weren't as close as I would've liked, but that didn't stop me from missing his online presence. I was angry at how our mutual friends could bounce back into everyday normalcy within weeks, I couldn't bear hearing them talk about travel plans and gatherings. I wanted to wave my fist at them and shout but he's dead, why are you guys so happy!

I know why. Being sad is so tiring. Being angry with the neverending why is so tiring. I'm afraid there will come a time when I don't think about him every day, and that scares me. I don't want to forget about him. But I also don't want to hear "there's something wrong with you since you changed the hair but I cannot pinpoint it" or "you are just grey and lifeless these days" from friends and colleagues. I'm slowly sinking into a bottomless abyss of gloom and I have to snap out of it before it's too late. I get ill easier and tire faster these days. It's amazing (and scary) how powerful and tempting and easy this negativity is. Enough.

Nido had awesome photography skills (to me, and it's all that mattered). He's the one who encouraged me to fumble and learn my way in finding the perfect angle, perfect moment to capture a picture that tells a story without words. Even if that means standing in the cold, waiting, waiting for a leaf to fall from the branch.

Yea he's crazy about photography like that. He could haul the heaviest equipment to other countries and stand in the same spot for 3 hours just for one shot. ONE! I used to say, traveling with Nido must be very torturous. Look who's talking, now I'm torturing my travelmates. Although the same level of enthusiasm doesn't mean same level of output quality. Shuddup, I'm learning ok, learning!

This series of waterfall shots are my favourite, and I wouldn't stop bugging him to develop a poster-size one for me. He'd laugh it off, saying that a poster would cost him a bomb. Ok and here's when things get a little... surreal. After he died, I asked a mutual friend to check if his parents are releasing his photo album... and if I could have a waterfall film to develop it myself. She didn't get back to me and I didn't pursue the matter further.

I was cleaning my room to prepare to shift to my new apartment (or rather, dumping my stuff there and take off to London) when I discovered a letter from Nido which I have absolutely no recollection of receiving and opening. But apparently I did, so I opened (reopened?) the envelope and 4 photos dropped out. And one of them... the waterfall. It was sent on January 2006. I'm not gonna say anything further here. I'm happy (and sad) enough with the pictures.

Thanks, Nido. For everything you've done, given and taught. From now on I'll take the pictures. And one day, I'll trace your footsteps in Greece and your beloved Aegean Sea.

friday the 13th

2007-04-13T07:39:00.000+02:00

Friday. The 13th.

It rained cats and dogs just when we finished lunch and was ready to walk back to the office. We were stuck under a torn stall umbrella, and the torn bit was right above Gab who wore white (the rest were wearing black to ward off bad stuff... and in this case, raindrops) so she got wet. Then she dropped her wallet into a puddle.

Ian's in the hospital. Today's the girlfriend's birthday and he just had surgery yesterday. Don't know if I should feel guilty jamming a few nights ago without him and totally enjoying it. Don't know if I should cancel tonight's jam and force the boys to visit him. Brrrrr, I'm so cold-blooded. Or maybe I just didn't have a chance to know him as well as the others.

I went for my first-ever acupuncture session last night. Richard gave me a can of 100Plus for being such a brave girl, having not seen or done acupuncture before. I told him, I'm willing to try anything to get my health back on track before leaving for the UK and her impossibly skyhigh medical charges. So I closed my eyes and bit my lips as he poked needles into me. And twisted them around every few minutes. My limbs felt numb one moment, on fire the next. It was no fun at all, but the pain's bearable. Richard's little daughter staring at me with big, wondrously innocent eyes (nevermind she's also digging her nose) made me even more determined to smile and make goony faces. As if looking like a (a) shedding porcupine, or (b) junkie with really BAD aim, isn't goony enough. It was over in an hour. I'll be seeing Richard every 2 or 3 days from now.

Today is the end of my mourning. Time to put away all the black clothes.

easter

2007-04-08T07:52:00.000+02:00

Happy Easter (or Resurrection Day) folks.
I still don't get the bunny, chocolate eggs and lilies, though.

rambunctious

2007-04-07T04:30:00.000+02:00

Uh huh. No wonder posting the picture of the dead random rat had me so ill. It's disrespectful to another member of my clan. Upon realising so, my ulcers have begun to subside. I'm a rat. And all along I thought I'm a dog or cat person.

rat ass

2007-04-04T08:22:00.002+02:00

Maybe I shouldn't have taken a picture of this poor rat's mishap yesterday. Because it's exactly how I feel right now. In bloody painful hell. My lymph nodes are swollen again, something my doctor and I laughed about last month. The mouth ulcers are back with a vengeance! Got four throbbing ones on the inside of my right cheek and on the gums, same side with the third breast growing above my collarbone. Still my doctor said (reeking of ciggie, that bastard) not to worry and put me on turbomutantpower antibiotics that make me feverish and spaced out.

My lips and cheeks have swollen to the point that my face is now a perfectly symmetrical square. Like it's flattened into 2D by a truck. Maybe this truck face can audition for a role in Transformers. That is if the lymph bean growing on my neck doesn't explode outwards into a sapling. THEN it's an audition for Swamp Thing.

To top off all the glam, my right toe's (can I not be right anymore) slab of skin has rolled up like an opened sardine can. It was raining and I reminded myself that roads would be slippery and I should walk extra carefully and... I opened my car door *whoop* slipped and rammed my right foot into a rock.

Just not my fucking week. *whine*

cafe cafe

2007-03-31T11:12:00.001+02:00

Whirlwind Eryn came... and went. Highlight of her trip besides her loot of 10 new clothing items (thank God I have to work) must be our dinner at Cafe Cafe.

"Jess, aren't you excited I'm coming over? Where're you bringing me to eat?"
"Uhh, I don't know... Chilli's?"
"YOU BRING ME TO CHILLI'S EVERYTIME I COME KL! I WANT SOMETHING SPECIAL!"

Cafe Cafe is a quaint little restaurant that's easily missed, even though it's facing the busiest cross-junction in KL. I think it's because the exterior (including windows) is painted in black. Once you enter, though, it's a new world oozing decadence and gothic glam. I think the owner is gay. He must be. Hahahaha.

The ambience is hush-hush romantic. Tea candle, flower arrangement, ancient piano at one corner, bookshelf at another. Normal dinner conversations are conducted in whispers. I sat straighter and pursed my lips Datin-like as we perused the leather-bound menus.

Suddenly a wisp of smoke rose from Eryn's fingers. "Shit! I opened the menu too close to the candle... the edge melted!" We collapsed back onto our chairs in laughter. Plan to project graceful, Datin-like image: Fail. Nevermind she's in an ill-fitting camisole that showed too much bra and me in singlet and sports jacket.

We had crispy brie for starters. It tasted like... coconut-flavoured hairwax that grandfathers like to wear. We grimaced after the first bite, but were determined to finish the slice because it's RM23 for a small slice of fried cheese. Laughing did make the feat easier, though. We then sampled the tomato-based soup (picture not shown because it just look like normal tomato soup, if you still need picture then go Jusco and check out the lable on Campbell's canned soup) which strangely, tasted like dhaal mixed with fish curry. Your normal roti canai gravy. We couldn't stop laughing as our tastebuds exchanged these insightful opinions.

Eryn had spaghetti with king prawns, scallop, squid and some other random seafood bits. It was quite yum until she generously sprinkled tabasco and stirred everything around. I rolled my eyes. Then...

Eryn: Waiter, can I have some cheese powder?
Jess: (omigawd did she say CHEESE POWDER instead of parmesan? this is so not Pizza Hut!)
Waiter: *gestures towards slices of cheese on top of spaghetti* THOSE are cheese already, ma'am."
Eryn: Oh? Okay, hahaha. *turns towards Jess and whispers* Oi the waiter damn cute!
Jess: (eyeballs rolled further and got stuck at back of cranium)

I had braised lamb shank with sun-dried tomatoes. We didn't like it (I love the two small baby potatoes though). So we launched into another discussion about WHERE they sun dry the tomatoes and laughed like hyenas. And food miraculously disappeared.

Eryn has horrendous photography skills. This is the best picture of me during dinner. My camera is too light and it's difficult keeping it still? Yeah right. Only if it's coming from someone who uses a 10kg digital camera. And yes, I'm in the midst of scolding the photographer to hold still when this was taken.

On the other hand, my angled artsy-fartsy candid shots are godlike! Doesn't Eryn look absofuckinglutely gorgeous and dreamy with a tinge of melancholy here? If you disagree then go away and play with your Barbie Doll.

Eryn, I hope you get your Working Holiday Maker visa too. Then it's me and you conquering the world, baby. (shuddup UK is big and foreign enough to be a whole new world for us)

update

2007-03-29T13:02:00.000+02:00

Remember the Porsche I was ranting about after I came into work? I bumped into it again on my way home. This is tres unsettling. Of all the millions and trillions of cars in the country, of all the miliseconds and routes people take to go home... I have to see the car again. But this time he's in another lane so I didn't really have to ram him off the galaxy.

I'm not making this up I swear. I shall be careful henceforth with whatever that comes out of my mouth. Because they might just come back for a second (hopefully not third) visit.

Did I mention that I bumped into Matt Bellamy at the McDonalds opposite the office this morning?

starbucks

2007-03-29T08:00:00.001+02:00

After experiencing orgasmic pure coffee in its freshly-ground euphoria from Boo's Mobile French Press, I swore to pile my 3-in-1s into a pyramid and torch them while chanting cleanse me from inferior coffee that taste like gnat's pee.

My usual Grande Latte. Boo's bag of Sumatran extra bold coffee beans (instrumental to the most beautiful song of the day "feel free to make some for yourself whenever you want"). Boss's reinforced rule for everyone to come in at 9 instantly become less-picketwieldingworthy.

But I'm still not letting the horrendous morning incident go. Lately there seems to be a bevy of annoying drivers on the road who passed their exam to create a deluge of accidents (or near ones) via a never-ending string of insanely stupid decisions. The human race would be extinct several centuries ago if the Earth was populated with 30% more of such drivers. Yes, I'm talking about you, Uncle, in your posh Porsche Carerra (Carrera? whatever) going at 40km/h on the fast lane. You want safety and drive slow-slow go get the typical uncle-ified Volvo, dagnabbit. Don't effing block my way just because my Lisa is small and unwashed. Especially not when I have bleeding vagina and is late for work.

MFB press launch

2007-03-27T09:01:00.001+02:00

Last week we went to a press launch of our client's new spokesperson. I wasn't that much of a willing participant because there wasn't any free food involved. But then I'd be ogling a famous Hong Kong actress from mere inches away. In the end, lust won.

I've never heard of this little Thai restaurant/pub before this event. It's... cosy (the diplomatic version of small). And that's about it. I didn't develop any sudden urge to come back again in the near future to order half the stuff on their menu. Anyways after 2 Bangkok trips I think it'll be hard to get me excited about Thai food in Malaysia.

Bernice Liu looked right into my eyes and smiled. And I almost collapsed from shaky knees. She's so hot! And her Canadian accent is so endearing! But nothing beats British accent-lah. Poshness to the max. No I'm not saying it because I got my UK Working Holiday visa.

I'm saying it's one of the major reason I wanted to get my visa in the first place.
And now, lao-niang is GOING TO LONDON IN JUNE, bucks and bitches!
*head bang to a Mika song - because they make me happy*

Luna Bar looking fun even in broad daylight. It's right upstairs our launch event and the maintenance guy was kind enough to let us in (must be my cleavage). So THIS is what Luna Bar looks like. Heard plenty about it but haven't been. Very nice concept but... cosy. Pubs with a pool and possible bikini-clad hot mommas splashing water at each other while giggling should make it a point to cram in more tables and chairs. Around the pool. And binoculars for seats further away.

Lunch was an explosive affair at Chilli's Bangsar. Why explosive? As usual, we ordered too much food. And I was determined to break my 7-glasses-of-bottomless-tomato-juice record. Only managed 5 though. But we only had an hour for lunch so I guess that's still some achievement. I stopped when my jeans buttons almost shot out and kill Aggy across the table.

For more group camwhorisation, go to my Multiply yar.

KFC moments

2007-03-23T18:11:00.001+01:00

What is your KFC moment?

Is it full of cheer (Angie) and good spirit (Sonia)?

Or is it always filled with surprises (Maria) and the unexpected (Gab)?

Does it make you want to take a different approach and view to life (and food)?

Wherever we end up, long lunch on Fridays is my favourite bonding time with my bunch of lovely colleagues. And this week we graced KFC with our crazy antics and hyena laughter. And of course, Gab's excellent demonstration of, uhh, that.

Having colleagues that are also good friends is definitely worth more than what money can buy.

And realising that was my KFC moment today. (I so should get paid for this post)

weddings

2007-03-20T10:39:00.001+01:00

Four weddings down for 2007. And it's not even the end of March. Wassup with you people? Year of Pig very auspicious to pinch your friends' and relatives' hard-earned sweat and blood money is it? Siiiigh. No, no. I'm not upset you're married and I'm still single, I see plenty of me around at the dinners. And we're happy me's too, mind you. I'm upset when you send the wedding invite to my hometown address and get my mum upset. And when she's upset why I'm nice to children and old people and kind to animals and financially sound but single, she'll say, "Must be you're too fat-lah, can you please don't eat so much!" and I'll get upset.

When you're almost 28, being single can never be BY CHOICE anymore?

But to my married (and marrying) friends, may you stay married long long time! And have sex legally and make plenty cute pinchable babies and so on so forth.

For more festive lovey-dovey pik-chas, go to my Multiply yar.

random thoughts on music

2007-03-15T07:55:00.000+01:00

Thanks to Leo who introduced me to the wonderful (and speedy) downloading world of Azureus, I can now access album upon album of wondrous music from all over the world. eMule is one slow-moving ass and should be banished from the face of the universe. Hmm the same should be said regarding illegal downloads, but...

Listening to one new album a day makes the Ogress one contented monstrosity. And it's very crucial because I cannot find contentment in sleeping hours nor making music with the band these days. My most precious finds of the past 2 weeks are:

The Gossip. Very interesting bandmembers. Very yummy drummer. Listen Up! is fantabulous. How do they make simple music arrangement sound soooo good? Hmm I like my fair share of cowbells from time to time.

Lily Allen has the most delectably enchanting British accent. And boppy tunes I can't categorise. I'd say it's airy, cool ska-pop with garage beats. In layman terms, her music makes me happy. And want to go live in England and cycle around town in a yellow sundress and red flip-flops. My favourite song is Littlest Things. Check out the piano riff from the 70's French softporn movie Emmanuelle (thanks for the background info, oh Si king of google and wikipedia). Faster go see the beautiful Sylvia Kristel on youtube!

Now that the The Wreckers is born, we can see and hear more of the gorgeous Michelle Branch. Good ole' country pop that makes long drives and lousy traffic conditions bearable. Just what KL-ites need. No favourite song because the music's almost the same.

the baby

2007-03-14T10:40:00.000+01:00

Everybody, welcome The Baby to Earth. She's born two days ago to the prettiest girl in my Form Five class and the class monitor of my Form Three class. The Baby weighed 2.69kg at birth and isn't she the CUTEST LITTLE THING OMIGAWDITHINKMYMATERNALINSTINCTSGOINGHAYWIRE?

The Baby hasn't been named. Should I start an online naming poll?

toilet paper

2007-03-14T04:55:00.000+01:00

I think the best indicator of how well a company is doing is its toilet paper. Parallel to Papa Whale's incessant complaints about business getting worse, so has the quality of our toilet paper. The current batch looks and feels like recyled and then re-recyled old grey toilet paper.

I'm not expecting Cutie Compact quality-lah, but at least buy back the previous brand? Treat our asses nicer and we'll work them off for you, ok?

I'm employed

2007-03-13T09:15:00.000+01:00

When I read things like this I don't know if I should laugh or cry. That's why I don't read the papers or own a telly. I choose what I absorb into my system over the internet thank you very much.

The Tourism Minister Tunku Adnan lashed out that all bloggers on the Internet are liars, out of which 80% are unemployed women. "All bloggers are liars, they cheat people using all kinds of methods. From my understanding, out of 10,000 unemployed bloggers, 8,000 are women." (source in Chinese)

Oi, I am respectfully employed.

emo rocker

2007-03-10T14:52:00.000+01:00

I'm still having a fever. After 2 weeks, I still need my Muse fix every single day. I still have to look at their performance in KL again and again on Youtube. And every single day brings me closer to my interview at the British High Commission. If I get my WHM I'm going to be one step closer to the UK and Muse's concert at Wembley. And the Carling Music Festival in August. And Damien Rice in September.

If I get to go, I'll experience living in another country.
If I get to go, I'll have to learn to let go of a lot of things.
If I get to go, it's back to discovering life all over again.

If I get to go, I'll miss my favouritest boys in the world.

Attempting to make our own music is a very exhausting feat. That's why there're dozens of half-completed songs and hundreds of ideas not penned and recorded. Or maybe we're just plain lazy.

Muse aftermath

2007-02-27T09:20:00.001+01:00

Muse opened with Knights of Cydonia, followed by Hysteria. YES! So very predictable. Hee hee. But so good. I was practically floating on cloud nine (until I watched Ethan's Hullabaloo DVD with their off-stage idiotic footage that killed all fantasies) throughout. On second thoughts, they were TOO good. No ripping off clothes, no spraying champagne at the audience, no smashing of instruments... Hmm. How come other concerts have these and we don't! Now I feel a bit deprived. Note to self: must go stalk their UK gigs when they're back from the world tour. Reading here I come!

Best song of the night has to be Plug In Baby. And I damn near cried when Invincible came on. My only regret? Not bringing the camera. My phone camera takes the lousiest shots. Nothing can be seen! NiamahaiKNNCCB! Thanks to Dee Dee, now I have at least some pictures to post. Also taken with someone's phone camera.

I so shouldn't have watched Hullabaloo's second DVD. Now I don't want Matt's baby anymore. Hahaha. But I guess what Si said is true, why would rebel teen wannabes idolise Muse if they were just "normal"? Nobody worships normalcy. Food for thought. But that DVD was done in 2001 when they're all just 22 or 23, and since then all of them have settled down considerably. No more crazy vids except on-stage madness!

They're still the best live rock act out there, no matter what. Matt's a talented devil bursting with inspiration and superb energy. And don't forget his magic fingers.

Their complete set list is here (with vids of every song on youtube!) ... *scream hysterically*

MUSE

2007-02-24T19:27:00.000+01:00

Faraway... this ship is taking me far away...

Yes, little boys and girls, uncles and aunties... MUSE IS FINALLY HERE. And tonight I'll be throwing my knickers at Matt Bellamy. With phone number, vital stats and all. *ecstatic*

In my dreams, Matt told me they're gonna open with either Knights of Cydonia or Hysteria. We shall see.

I just hope nothing screws up the logistics on my side.

I can't sleep.

Women should be obscene and not heard

Egging sight

Sleepless in Subang

Lush rush

Reorganisation

Baboons

Barcelona

Cupcake mild fever

Ok

Happy birthday

Dingwall

Paris

*cough*

Gastric

junk mail

van persie

retail therapy

1st anniversary

flat white

What a fine match

damn sad

snow

snow

monday

phooey

conned!

greetings

happy new year

christmas

tang yuen

autumn

busy

perdido street station

brussels

awwww

back from bologna

bologna

100% design

too much

close shop

work and stratford

bryan boy

ashamed

great beer festival 2007

i'm funny ok

maastricht

utrecht

middelburg

alkmaar

amsterdam

cockring

eindhoven

monday

wild wild wes

London Day Trip

electropop

shopping

decadence

meaning of gifts

out of the blue

weight loss

saturday

weekend

chinese takeaway

southgate

london day 3

green green grass of...

camera died

london - 2nd day

london - 1st day

stress

cosmetic surgeon

pirates

spontaneity

birthday week

on tattoos

the farmer's in the dell

mysterious

concert and play

good charlotte

cough