Why did I buy this?!

Your brain works overtime when you can’t sleep… Out of the blue, I was thinking about my bikini. Yes, my bikini that I bought in Gold Coast about 2 ½ years ago and have only worn ONCE.

Behold!

Cute leh.. =)

Then I started wondering how many items I own that I have never or hardly used.

My snazzy hat. I thought I would wear it. Cost: 20 bucks Condition: Never used

Cotton yukata. So pretty and whimsical, I just had to have it!

Cost: Around 30 bucks

Condition: Hardly used

My *ahem*, body care gel. I don’t know why I kid myself sometimes, lol. Cost: Around 60 bucks Condition: Hardly used.

My bunny ears. Impluse purchase at Sexpo for 10 bucks. Condition: Never used.

And the winner for the category of “Things I paid good money for but hardly ever use” is…

*Drumroll*

Yes, my textbooks!

The Move

Hey.

I've been dealing with insomnia these days and I've been looking for something to do, since I can't sleep. Writing has always given me pleasure so I decided to move my blog here in the hope that I will blog more.

It's a Friday night and I have no plans. Ain't it a crime for a reasonably atractive twenty-something to be home alone with nothing to look forward to but home baked-cookies and Warcraft? Come on people, ask me out! *lol, totally shameless*

There's been an epidemic of birthdays recently so here goes:-

To Mummy, Eelaine Tong, Chin Ming, CM's Mum, Bev, Amanda, Ern Loong and all the people I'm SURE I forgot,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

From: The girl who can't sleep.

All the best, y'all!

Are you materialistic?

Originally posted May 18 2007 on my Friendster blog.

Hey all, sorry for the long hiatus. I've been alternating between travel, flat-out-stress and depression these last few months. But I'm good. :)

I was filling out one of those random surveys the other day. You know, the kind you do when you are bored... Or procrastinating. This one rated how spoilt you are based on how you scored, and generally speaking points were awarded for material things owned and lifestyle. Doing that dumb quiz made me think about what I had and how I lived my life, not to mention what society-at-large thinks a good lifestyle should be.

Admittedly, I scored on the higher end of the spoilt-scale. I know I'm blessed, and I seriously thought about the matter for a bit. It seems to be the expected norm nowadays for people to buy and consume expensive stuff. In short, what used to be a luxury is now considered to be a necessity. Don't believe me?

Young kids wearing Ralph Lauren. Students toting Louis Vuitton and Gucci bags to lecture theaters. Sixteen year olds demanding diamond jewellery for their birthdays. Young twenty-somethings who will only wear Armani Exchange, Boss, Marc Jacobs or some other suitably expensive designer. Young adults forking over thousands for Prada sunglasses when they can ill-afford it. I can provide lots more examples but you know what I mean.

It's crazy! So what if you carry a Prada or Padini bag? So what if your polo tee is by Ralph Lauren or Giordano? If you are aged +/-25 or under, the chances are that even if you own genuine designer goods and wear them proudly, PEOPLE WILL THINK THE ITEMS ARE FAKES. Yup, that's the harsh truth. The tiny Dior handbag that girl took into the lecture hall? I think it's a fake. The sparkling diamond ring that other girl is wearing in the cafeteria? I'll bet she got it from a costume jewellery shop. And that guy flashing his latest model phone around with that loud, annoying ringtone? Well, the phone is real but he's a jackass.

I think the whole materialism thing has gone too far. All the subliminal messages in advertising and the media insist that if you own this, you're cool. If you buy that, you'll be hot and sexy. If you wear this, people will like you. Es-keeews me, but is this still kindergarten? I know I liked playing with my neighbours because they had the Optimus Prime figurine from Transformers (now THAT was pretty cool). But nowadays? NO! Lots of expensive, branded things does NOT equal cool. It just means that you are gullible. (In which case, email me because I'm selling this new cool thing that you absolutely MUST HAVE!!!)

I'm not against nice things though. I like nice stuff just as much as any other person. However, they are not the whole point of my life and neither do I obsess about owning them. The last time I went shopping was more than a month ago and only as a favour to help someone choose a present. I have perfumes, but I can only use one at a time. I have watches, but I can't wear them because of my medical condition (doctor's orders, massive ganglion on my left wrist). The only true designer item I own are my sunglasses which were a reward from Mum because I aced my high school finals. Besides, I got them 6 years ago, waaayyy before it was the cool thing to do.

*cat who found the cream smile*

Honestly, cliched as it may be, it is the character that counts. The friend who doesn't give up on you, the guy who gives up his seat to an old man, the salesgirl who can smile and say "Thank you" after serving a difficult customer, the man who can be loyal to his wife till the day they die. Now these people are cool, man. And I want be like them.

10 Questions, Hurricane-style

Originally posted on Jan 17 2007 on my Friendster blog.

I met up with a long time friend the other day. We haven't spoken in years and she is just as I remember her. She's the opposite of what I am in so many ways; loud, expressive, risk-taking, always on the move, always onto something new, living for the moment, knowing what she wants and doing all she can to get it right NOW!. She doesn't 'get' a lot of the things I do and frankly, I don't 'get' her way of living either. But I think we see what we could have been, in each other. It's like a glimpse into the other life we each would be living if we had played our cards differently.

Of course, when girls get together a must-have is the topic of each other's love life. My contribution to the discussion was small as I am still happily in the same relationship that she heard about the last time we met. On the other hand, she had lured, devoured and spat out a veritable mountain of men in the same amount of time, leaving behind a trail of battered, broken and bleeding hearts from here to Kuala Lumpur. A true MANEATER... She was regaling me with tales of her best-looking guy so far when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence and turned her sharp eyes on me. (Let's call her Sky)

Sky: *intense look* Actually, how long have you been together with your boyfriend?

Me: *wilting a little under that stare* Er, 3 years in March 2007... Why?

Sky: *frowns a bit* Have you ever cheated on him?

Me: *eyebrows shoot up in horror* NO!

Sky: *grows skeptical* You've NEVER, EVER cheated? On ANY of your boyfriends?

Me: *eyes narrowing* NO. I. HAVE. NEVER. CHEATED. What is this about?!

Sky: *looks puzzled* You've never even made out with another guy in these 3 years?

Me: NO! Why do you ask?!

Sky: Then how the hell do you manage to stay with one, *shakes her finger at me* only ONE guy for three years?!?!

Me: *confused* .....

Sky: *hands gesticulating wildly* I mean, you don't get xian (bored) one meh? I cannot tahan for so long you know. What's so great about your boyfriend?

Me: Er... Um...

Sky: It can't be his money, right? It's not as if you need money! Truthfully, he's not that good-looking also. *her eyes suddenly grow huge* I know why....

Me: *squeaks* Why....?

Sky: He must be the first guy you had sex with! That's why you are still with him!

Me: *utterly flabbergasted* NO! Good God! Where did you get that idea from?!

Sky: *disappointed* Then why?

Me: *decides to get the conversation back under control* You know how difficult it is for me to find a guy that appeals to me...

Sky: *thinks back* True...

Me: And he can actually understand me very well...

Sky: But you are in AUSTRALIA! There are cute guys, like, EVERYWHERE!! If I were you, *humphs* I think I'll go crazy.

Me: *considers* But looks don't do it for me. Even if he's super cute, I'm not going to find him sexy if I think he's stupid, right?

Sky: So you like the very 'cheem' (deep) kind of guy?

Me: Er, not really. I should be able to talk with him, so he should be around my level...

Sky: *intense look again* So is this the longest relationship you've had?

Me: *wary* Yessss. Before this was 1 yr 10 mths, before that was 7 mths.

Sky: *thinks for a while*

Me: *grows nervous*

Sky: So are you going to marry him?

Me: *sputters*

Sky: *matter of fact* You might as well, since you've been looking at his face for so long and you're not bored yet.

Me: I don't know! How can I answer you? See how it goes-lah! It's not time yet, I think. And it's not like he has asked me anything...

Sky: *tilts head to the side* If he asks you now, would you say yes?

Me: *chews on bottom lip* Maybe... *chews some more* Most likely... I think...

Sky: *gives me a long look* Well, just send me the invitations when the time comes.

Me: *determined to change the topic* So, what do YOU look for in your guys?

Sky: He must be fun, happening, rich, Of course he should look good... Oh, and he should... (continues talking)

Me: *phew*

She had to leave soon after that. I had almost forgotten what it was like to be around her. Back then, she would be a hurricane of activity, running all over the place and talking ten different things at once. I was like the eye of the storm, coming along at my own leisurely pace while she stormed all around me. She hasn't changed one bit, which makes me smile. It takes more effort for me to keep up with her though.

Maybe I'm getting old.

HK: Disneyland

Originally posted on Jan 13 2007 on my Friendster blog.

To all those affected by the floods, my prayers are with you.

We all woke up with the same thought in our heads, "Disneyland today!" Breakfast was hurriedly consumed and we were all waiting in the lobby for the mini-bus to be brought around when someone had that fateful idea to buy some food from 7-11 first. Drat that cheesy bun...

Anyway, we were supposed to spend the later half of the day at Disneyland. First on the itinerary were two obligatory visits to a jewellery factory outlet and a TCM (Traditional Chinese Medicine) outlet. The HK govt had stakes in both establishments, if not a controlling majority share. Our group being seasoned travellers, we recognised those places as tourist traps and were in and out of there in record time. Back in the minibus, someone asked our disinterested tour-guide why we couldn't just skip the visits to these places.

Fellow tourist 1: Eh Stanley, why do we still have to go to these places when YOU know and THEY know that we won't buy anything? Waste time-lah..

Tour-guide: *shrugs* Government owned-mah, have to support our local economy.

Fellow tourist 2: But we are on holiday here, already supporting your economy!

Tour-guide: Aiyah, you don't have to buy anything you don't want to, but we have to take you here first. If not, you might spend it all buying souvenirs at Disneyland, nothing left to spend elsewhere.

Whole bus: ..... *sweat*

Disneyland was cool... I loved the shows! They were great to watch and brought me right back to my childhood. I felt like a kid again. The rides generally catered more to the under 12 age group, with Space Mountain being the exception. However, Space Mountain wasn't all that scary to me. I think it was a little more terrifying for my brothers since there was not much head-room and my brothers are tall. They had to duck their heads for fear of losing them (literally) as the ride hurtled at top speed along the tracks, in darkness (it's space, after all) with steel bars and support beams criss-crossing mere inches overhead. The ride ended with a camera taking your picture as it rounds the last corner at high speed and stops suddenly. You can see my brothers trying to make themselves as short as possible.

I'm not quite sure what the guy in front is doing though... And my eyes were still swollen.
The day ended with the nightly fireworks show at Sleeping Beauty's castle. It was a breath-taking display, with the fireworks synchronised with the swelling orchestra music playing familiar theme songs from classic Disney cartoons. After the last fireworks exploded in a blaze or light, the crowd sighed in appreciation and there was a light smattering of applause.

As we turned away from the castle, Main Street lighted up in front of us, beckoning with cheery Christmas music. As the crowd slowly walked down Main Street, 'snow' started falling. Well, it wasn't real snow, just small flecks of foam sprayed over the crowd as we walked to the exit. Nevertheless, with the castle behind us, the gigantic Christmas tree in front of us, bright lights, cold weather and music all around and 'snow' falling, there was some sort of magic in the air. It was like a fairytale, a dream from long ago. People all around were smiling and laughing, kids were jumping up and down trying to catch 'snowflakes'and no one was in a hurry to leave. I felt like a fairytale princess in my own private kingdom.

I'm no kid nor am I a hopeless romantic. I've been to theme parks all around the world with more exciting rides, cheaper souvenirs and more plentiful seating. Heck, I've even visited Disneyland Japan (many years ago). However, Disneyland HK beats them all hands down in terms of ambience and atmosphere. If you ever get the chance to visit, I strongly reccommend staying for the fireworks, which is the last event before closing.

P.S. Do try and visit on a Tuesday or Wednesday, it won't be as crowded.

HK Night 1: Wax Museum & The Peak

Originally posted on Jan 7 2007 on my Friendster blog.

The first night in Hong Kong was packed with activity. We took an 'optional' night time tour of the city's attractions that included dinner, a visit to Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum and Victoria Peak. Price: HKD$320. Dinner was so-so. Naturally, it was at a Chinese restaurant, this being Hong Kong and all.. As we had muslims in our group, there was a hurried conference with the restaurant manager to substitute some dishes with more acceptable ones. Nevertheless, every dish with meat in it was still nervously approached.

Muslim guy 1: *waves chopsticks at the dish* What meat is this?

Indian guy 1: *pops it in his mouth and chews thoughtfully* I think it's chicken..

Muslim lady 1: *stares at him* Are you sure?

Chinese guy 1: Ummm, I think you should eat the prawns first.

Muslim lady 2: *directs look of horror at her plate* Alamak, I took some already!

Chinese ladies 1 & 2: *muttering to each other* Aiyoh, they rugi-lor like that, cannot eat half the things we can..

After dinner, we were taken via bus to Hong Kong's tallest mountain, Victoria Peak (also fondly referred to as just 'the Peak'). I was reminded of family trips to Genting Highlands as the bus negotiated the curves of the road up the mountain. The lights inside the bus were turned off as we cleared the foothills and we were treated to a spec-TA-cular view of Hong Kong's nightscape. The occupants of the bus seemed to gasp breathlessly and reach for their digital cameras as one. In what seemed like a synchronised action, my night-vision was blasted to smithereens when all those digital cameras went off together. Flash-light exploded inside the bus and bounced off the darkened glass of the windows, ruining everyone's shot. I sighed and closed my eyes for the next 3 minutes until the camera-happy people realised that:

1. They cannot get a good night-shot from inside a moving vehicle.

2. They cannot get any shot AT ALL with the camera flashing on the glass directly in front of them.

3. They should just sit down and enjoy the view since they cannot capture a good photo at all.

When we arrived at the Peak, I was surprised to see that it boasted a high-end shopping complex and multi-storey car park! I got a bit confused as I had pictured a simple gravel clearing where vehicles can park and where lovers made-out, like in those HK movies. Apparently, I was misled. In the words of the tour guide (directly translated from Cantonese),

"They making romantic movie mah, include so many tourists where got romantic? So they film in the side road lor.."

Orh, I see.. The shopping complex had fancy restaurants galore, tacky souvenier shops as well as luxury goods and jewellery.

Madame Tussaud's was on the 1st floor of the complex and the viewing platform was located on the rooftop. Madame Tussaud's was interesting, with a lot of the wax effigies looking remarkably like the real thing. Some were a bit 'off', but you could still guess who they were meant to be when you squinted from certain angles.

The exhibits included some cute touches; Andy Lau's statue possessing a heartbeat, a floaty white dress and blonde wig visitors can slip on and pose in next to Marilyn Monroe, a stage with podium that visitors can make mock speeches from, flanked by Bush and Clinton. My brothers who were most reluctant to visit ended up having the most fun with all the props and statues.

It was a long escalator trek to the viewing platform on the rooftop but it was worth it. Defying the light drizzle, tourists posed and snapped away against the dizzying backdrop of Hong Kong's famous skyline. I wished I had a tripod as the nightscene necessitated long exposures, which was difficult to hold the camera still for. The slightest wobbling / trembling would result in a blurred picture. In the end, I put my brothers to good use by getting them to stand still and steadying the camera against their heads.

At the end of the night we were deposited at our hotel and promptly fell into bed, knowing that Disneyland awaited us on the morrow.

I prefer bad news first

Originally posted on Jan 5 2007 on my Friendster blog.

To one and all: A belated Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

I'm ba-ack...

Zipping back and forth between Hong Kong, Shenzhen, Guangdong, Macau, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur and good 'ol JB.

Living out of a suitcase for 3 weeks. *shock horror* (oi, I am a girl after all)

Hotel food. *yuck*

Airline food. *double yuck*

Falling sick while on holiday and far, far away from home. *triple yuck and a long, drawn-out groan* (even if it was entirely my own fault)

Big sigh. Where do I start?

At the beginnning. D-uh.

I arrived in HK international airport hale and hearty, eager to be off and experience all that the bright city has to offer. We were greeted by a less-than-enthusiastic local tour-guide, herded into a mini-bus and unloaded at our hotel for the night (Stanford Hotel). Our tour leader (the one that had accompanied us from Malaysia) was busy checking us in and the rest of the group was just milling around, being touristy.

That was when I felt it.

An itch around my eyes. I blinked a few times and hurriedly checked my reflection in the mirrors of the hotel lobby.

Drat. The area around my eyes was swollen. Just slightly, but noticable to me.

My first thought was to list the things I most recently ate or drank (only an allergic reaction can cause my eyes to swell). I'm allergic to certain antibiotics, pearl powder and some of the harsher cleaning agents but was pretty sure I had not come into contact with those. What could it be?
I arrived at the answer via the process of elimination. It wasn't food, drink, shampoo, detergent, dust or anything like that. Yet, it was the one thing I couldn't avoid and the one thing I could do nothing about.

It was the dratted air pollution. Drat, drat drat drat DRAT!

There was nothing to I could do but suffer in silence. I woke up the next day to the sight of my eyes grotesquely swollen, with dead skin flaking off the swollen areas and purplish-grey shadows under my eyes. Of course, I looked into the mirror and freaked myself out. Then I proceeded to freak my roommate (the tour-leader) out.

I ran around looking like that for the whole trip save the last 2 days when my eyes finally adapted to the level of air pollution. That should probably explain the lack of photos with me in the frame. My tour group didn't help either by gawking at me every morning and coming up to me separately to ask what the matter was. I think they did that just so they could get a closer look at what looked like spectacular purple-red-grey slugs living under my eyeballs. Hmph.
But then again, my swollen eyes were just a trifling inconvenience. I did get properly sick after all.

A trip to HK Disneyland was planned for the first morning in HK. While waiting for the minibus to be brought round, someone in the group suggested we go buy some biscuits and snacks at 7-11 to bring along to Disneyland as food (and everything else) there was notoriously expensive. I bought two buns, stuck them in my sling-bag and promptly forgot about them.
Five (5!) days later, we were in the bus, late for dinner and I was feeling hungry. Suddenly I remembered that I had food in my bag. Feeling quite happy with myself, I took out a rather flattened bun and ate it. It had cheese on it and tasted quite good, actually.

That night, I awoke at 3 am, 4.30am and 5am with feelings of vague discomfort in my stomach. It felt heavy, like I had eaten a bit too much but otherwise I didn't feel unwell so I managed to fall back asleep all those times. At 6am when my alarm went off, I woke up, dashed to the bathroom and puked my guts out. It was only as I was contemplating the green veggies swimming in the toilet bowl that I realised that it wasn't all that smart of me to happily eat a 5 day old cheese bun, however nice it tasted.

All up, I puked twice that day and came down with a high fever. What amazed me was that the whole day I only had 4 glasses of tea and half a bowl of fishball noodles and didn't feel hungry.

Hmm, maybe I should eat more 5 day old cheesy buns.

Quickie post

Originally posted on Dec 10 2006 on my Friendster blog.

Home in JB!!

Just came back from singapore yesterday

Going to Hong Kong on Wed

Bought a new toy (more on that later on)

Being tortured by Mum

Exercising my credit cards

Getting peeved off at Telekom and Streamyx as they play the finger-pointing game (wonky phone line AND internet connection)

Missing Melbourne

Spoiling my dog

'Till later, all!

Flesh by day, meat by night

Originally posted on Nov 27 2006 on my Friendster blog.

The gang went to Sexpo 2006 on Saturday. No, I didn't bring my camera. I'll show you the programme though..

That's the cover of the official Sexpo 2006 booklet they handed out. Just for the ladies' information, the three main girls on the cover are supposed to be Jessie Jane, Sophia Santi and Shay Jordan. I'm sure the guys don't need me to tell them who those pornstars are..

That is the event timetable for Saturday. We got there after lunch and caught the shows starting from 1.45pm.

This is my second visit to Sexpo; I first went in 2004. I didn't get to see much the first time as the crowd I went with didn't really gel. The girls were shy because we went with some boys and the boys were embarrassed in turn because the girls' shyness was infectious. We paid AUD$22 for the ticket and I think we only spent about 40 mins in there before we left.
However, last weekend..... Man, where do I start?

Lets start with the shows. We caught the strip/poledance by Miss Nude Australia first. She was good! She climbed all the way up to the very top of the deng pole and then slooooowwwly slid down it, UPSIDE DOWN AND doing a SPLIT. She did it naked (but for a g-string), in pornstar high heels and managed to look sexy doing it. *envious*

Next show was Penis Puppetry, and if you EVER manage to see what it's about, you'll get down on your knees and thank me for not posting pictures about it. Basically, the Master Penis Puppeteer folds, twists, bends, pulls and stretches his 'bits' into other shapes (snail, big Mac, wristwatch, swollen thumb, etc). Also known as the art of genital origami. Heck, it looked like it hurt!

After that we managed to catch a strip/poledance by a finalist in a stripping competition and we thought that it would be similar to what we saw before. Boy, were we wrong. The girl on stage stripped, danced, climbed up and down the pole and we were thinking "Yeah, yeah, what else is new" when she turned her ass to the audience, bent over to touch her toes and sloowwly slid her g-string off. The shouting and hooting coming from the boys in the audience was deafening, I tell you. She then proceeded to dance, wriggle and shake and show off as much of her *ahem* other lips as possible. Quite frankly, I didn't know where to look. Aiyoh, shy lah..

Then there was the male strip show. The guy was ripped! Muscles everywhere, all gleaming with lotion. He got 3 volunteers onto the stage to help him with his performance and I think those ladies got quite an eyeful (and handfuls). I wonder where they buy those pants that snap on and can be just torn off in one motion. We were expecting the guy to TAKE IT ALL OFF (!!) but sadly, he stopped at his g-string. Ah well, he had a FINE ass.

There were stalls galore selling everything and anything. Handcuffs, lubricants, toys of all shapes and sizes, whips, costumes, lingerie, seriously CFM (Come F**k Me) shoes, body paint, edible undies, condoms of all kinds, pole dancing lessons, stripclub memberships and the list goes on.

The hero of the day is still Justin. We had walked around the area and were standing in front of this party bus that had disco lights and thumping music coming out of it. The curtains were mostly drawn but you could see people moving around inside through the rather large gaps. A sign said "Lapdance $20". Justin looked as if he were debating with himself whether or not to go for it so I said " $20 bucks for a lapdance?! I'll contribute $2, you better get one!" Then the rest overheard and we all 'sponsored' Justin's lapdance. He paid up, got on the bus and much to our collective delight, sat down facing us right in front of a large gap in the curtains! We got to see some of it and from what we could make out (it was dark inside the bus), Justin got waaay more than his money's worth... After that, he paid up to have his picture taken with 2 (not 1 but TWO!!) topless models and got their autographs. He didn't act shy, pretend to be righteous nor did he get all sleazy about it. He just saw it as 'education'. Justin, you are my hero!!

Too bad there were no hot guys giving lapdances.

After we left the Sexpo, we went to a 'too much is just enough' restaurant and had an all-you-can-eat dinner. There was way too much meat for us to finish. I think we all went home having quite enough of flesh and meat for a long long time...

Aargh!

Originally posted on Nov 14 2006 on my Friendster blog.

I need a new handphone.

My Nokia 6101 was smashed in an unfortunate accident in September and I've been using a borrowed handphone ever since (thanks Tanya!). It was a hot day and we were out by the Werribee river. I took my jacket off and left it in the car. The next person who got out of the car sort of dragged a corner of my jacket off the seat and it hung over the side. Then they slammed the car door shut. ONLY, the door wouldn't close. So I tried to shut the door also. THEN, I noticed that my jacket was in the way. THEN, I remembered that my phone was in the jacket pocket. You can imagine how my heart plummetted at that moment.

This is the mini-display on the outside.

That's the inside (obviously).

*sigh* Heart pain.. I had photos in there of my very first nephew, contacts, smses that made me laugh and most of all, that phone was a present from CM! *grinds teeth at own carelessness*

So I've been trawling the internet researching handphones and I've decided that I want something small-ish, sleek with a loud-ass ring volume and power-power camera. Small because I don't want to lug a brick around. Sleek because hot pink/fancy prints get outdated fast. Loud-ass because I often can't hear my phone ringing (all my friends can vouch for that). Power-power camera because, well, I'm a closet pervert (hah!). Oh, I forget, it must have an expandable memory (can slot extra memory card) for all those pervy pictures I plan to take.

I like the Nokia N73 and K800i but they are very, how to say, 'MAN' phones. To use Amanda's expression, "Soo not sexeh..." Besides, the N73 has a reputation of being very buggy and hangs a lot. But I've mucked around with a friend's K800i and I'm not used to the user interface (lifetime Nokia user so far).

*pouts in confusion*

I demand a phone that is SEXEH, POWERFUL and MAKES A BIG NOISE!! Oooh.. Sounds suggestive, not? Please feel free to nominate a candidate for the position of my new toy...

Victoria's butt, hitting on girls and prettiness

Originally posted Nov 13 2006 on my Friendster blog.

The usual gang had a pot-luck last night. Lots of good food, wine, laughter and general madness (as usual). Heaps of giggles over pulled groin muscles, penis puppetry, Paris Hilton, left-hand-love, whether guys can hit on girls their friends have hit on unsuccessfully and all manner of things risque. The boys were vigourously denouncing Victoria Beckham's butt in the new Beckham husband-and-wife perfume advertisment.

G : (waves magazine around and points at the offending backside) Hey! Look at this, tell me this isn't Victoria Beckham's butt! It's too big!

Me : *peers over his shoulder* Yup, it looks more like JLo's bum.

A : *takes the magazine and squints at her bum* Cannot be her backside-lah, she usually so anorexic-skinny, how come her ass suddenly so big?

C : Must be photoshopped, Victoria has no ass at all!

And the conversation moves on to R's clubbing experience just this last Friday. He was out with his friends and didn't manage to pick up any chicks because his friends had hit on the ones he was interested in and even though the girls weren't interested, they were now out of bounds to him. Maybe this is some male-etiquette /bros before ho's/ honour among bradders thing that girls (like me) just don't get. If a guy (A) has hit on a girl and got knocked back, why can't his friend (B) hit on the same girl? What if the girl is totally not interested in A but really likes B but he can't make a move because of the rule? And say the girl gets frustrated enough to approach B, what happens? What if B goes to the dentist tomorrow and bumps into the same girl, can he hit on her then? Hmmm.. Very confusing...

Just as R was lamenting on the lack of pretty girls (in clubs and everywhere else), G pipes up and said:

"Nowadays when people say a girl is pretty, you have to ask them what they mean.
Do they mean that the girl is naturally pretty, or do they mean the girl is
pretty when she is made-up. It's a lot of difference, you know."

I agree. Some girls are pretty naturally (eg: Amanda, Yezi, Cara, Joyce, Kaleen etc). They don't need make-up even though they may use it lightly to enhance what they have. They are sweet-faced, their skin is clear, their eyes are bright and they have colour in their cheeks. They look good whether they have just woken up, just came out of the shower or have just applied make-up. Whether they are in a ball gown, shorts and slippers or pajamas, they still look good.

OTHER girls however, look good only when they are made-up and dressed-up. They will never show their I-just-woke-up face in public, not for all the money in the world. You'll never catch them looking anything less than glamourous, even if it means they disappear into the toilets for ages every hour to re-apply their "face" and that they will go grocery shopping in sky-high heels and eye-popping cleavage. In college, I personally knew some girls who would wake up EARLY in the morning to spend 2 hours (!) making-up, doing their hair and getting dressed. All that just to go to college. What a waste of make-up! It's worse in university, especially in summer, especially the first-years.

Me? It depends on my mood and how much time I have. Most days I spend in my Lucky jeans, a polo tee and my birkenstocks. If I have the time and I'm in the mood, I might rock up in black leather boots, miniskirt, lipgloss and mascara. Or a cute sundress. Or I can just stay at home wearing nothing but lavender-scented bath bubbles. Actually, I'll go and do that right now....

Exams rant

Originally posted on Oct 27 2006 on my Friendster blog.

Note: Selamat Hari Raya Aidil Fitri to one and all... Enjoy! And to all CM's friends who I KNOW read this; *wags finger* You guys are very bad...

Does anyone remember how it was during exam-time in high school? I can't seem to remember. I do know that I was doing 10 subjects (10 exams!) and yet I was not half as stressed as I am now. How did we all do it? How did we face 8 and more exams at a time without fuss while we NOW freak out, go without sleep and drink enough coffee to float a battleship when we only have 4 exams? It doesn't make sense.

Is it because more is at stake? In high school, we were automatically promoted to the next grade whether or not we passed. In tertiary education, FAT HOPE. You fail = you do it all over again. You fail enough times and badly enough, you face the uni committee and explain to them exactly why you failed. Which has always struck me as funny. If the poor sods knew why they were failing, they would've fixed it right? Why wait until they get summoned for a hearing to get their flash of inspiration? Even if they knew why they were failing, does telling it to the university help them pass? Can't see that it does.

How many out there with a degree actually end up working in their field of study? Not many that I know of, even in my circle of acquaintances. The business systems grads end up in sales (selling everything from software to coffee to fish), the commerce ones end up all over the place and the most interesting ones have not yet got a steady job. There are those few that end up with decent jobs in their field of study, but they are the minority. Even then, some have a quarter-life crisis and decide that they don't want to do that for the rest of their lives. How like that? No choice but to stick it out.

*big sigh* Just for the record, I have 2 papers on Mon and Tues, then my last paper the Mon after that. Which means I'm a little nervy, which explains my ranting. Wish me luck and I'll tell you how things went when I've recovered. Cheers!

Wabbits and weed.

Originally posted Oct 15 2006 on my Friendster blog.

Dr House:Ok... It's time to go hunting.
Dr Foreman: For what?
Dr House:
Wabbits.

(House M.D., Season 1, Ep4)

Cracks me up everytime. That should have tipped you off as this post is all about rabbits. Specifically, a very big, fluffy she-rabbit (I'm assuming they checked) that is ALWAYS hungry.

The first thing that is funny about Tu-zhi (means 'rabbit' in Mandarin, we'll get to why later) is that she was found. Yup, discovered by my friends in a grassy, empty lot while they were walking home one day. She didn't seem to be owned, so they picked her up and took her home. Otherwise, she wouldn't have survived the winter and the dogs that roam the area. They didn't know what to name her, so they called her 'rabbit', hence Tu-zhi (they are Chinese).

The second funny thing about her happened at my house. Tu-zhi eats a LOT. she totally decimated my friends' garden and stripped the trees of bark, as high as she could reach. My postage-stamp size of a garden had some grass that needed to be cut so we adopted her for a while. She ate almost all the grass and anything else we gave her.

Now, my housemate cultivates a weed in a little pot. *koffweedkoff* I put the pot up on a chair lest Tu-zhi get at it so it was safe. But one day, he put the pot on the steps, in a patch of sunshine. I was on the phone with my best friend and I turned around to see the deng wabbit with its paws on the pot, face in the weed. I screeched for my housemate and he came running when he heard what the wabbit was up to. He hastily rescued his precious pot and Tu-zhi scuttled away, looking quite normal.

Later, Tu-zhi climbed up the steps so she was pressed up against the glass sliding door. My guy was looking at her when she fell backwards off the steps and broke an ashtray on the way down. It was must have been quite entertaining because he was still laughing when I went downstairs to see what was so funny.

We returned her soon after that but she is now the famous wabbit that got high.

Update: The wabbit died today (22/10/06). It lay down under the tree and never moved after that. Bye, Tu-zhi..

Food for thought

Originally posted Oct 10 2006 on my Friendster blog.

Ever noticed? Soft drinks are made with lemon flavouring, but dishwashing liquid is made with REAL lemons.

Aussie TV is wierd. They have Channel 7, 9, 10, ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corp), SBS (Sport Before Sex). Haha, just kidding about that last one but their daily programme really does seem like that. Sport in the evening, then all the sex shows come on at about 10-ish. By sex, I mean full-frontal nudity, homosexuality, heterosexuality, etcetera ad nauseaum. The other channels have this ridiculous obsession with weight-loss, diets, obesity, childhood obesity, eating disorders et al. Oprah talks bout it, Dr Phil talks about it, it's on the covers of Cleo, Cosmopolitan, Women's Day, newspapers, books, the internet... There is just no getting away from it here.

Which made me wonder. Why, in this day and age of plenty, do we have such an OBSSESSION with food? Either we can't get enough of it to the extent that it kills us, or else we avoid it till it kills us too! How many people do you know who have a normal, healthy outlook on food? Almost everyone I know is on a diet, habitually eats too much and doesn't care or worse, eats and feels guilty later. It makes me mad, really FURIOUS that society puts such unreasonable pressure on people to look a certain way and be a certain weight.

Food is meant to be delicious. Food is meant to be nutritious. Food is meant to be enjoyed (I cannot stress that enough). So what if you ate a little too much? So what if Jennifer Aniston only has salad for lunch? So what if your body doesn't look like a supermodel's? Do you get paid to have a body like a supermodel's? That is their JOB, you know. I'm sure you know Jennifer Anniston employs her own personal chef to make that bloody salad for her, not to mention a personal trainer, expensive gym equipment, expensive health supplements AND a personal stylist.

Low-fat milk, no-calorie sweeteners, 97% fat free ice cream, 99% fat-free anything and everything. They all taste like crap, are extremely unsatisfying and you know what else? They take out the fat, and put in chemicals to disguise the crap taste. Yeah, low in fat, high in cancer, high-blood pressure, diabetes...

Like someone close to me likes to say, "They take out 99% of the fat, replace it with nonsense chemicals so it contains less of the REAL STUFF, tastes horrible AND THEN THEY WANT ME TO PAY MORE FOR IT?!?!"

Eat what you want to eat, when you want to eat it and eat it till you are comfortably full. Just make sure that you are hungry, not because you are bored, or want comfort, or its just what you must have when you are watching TV. Take care of your body, it's the only one you'll get. Feed it good food. (I define 'good' as delicious and healthful. There is no such thing as 'healthy' food as food doesn't get sick and go visit the doctor.) As long as YOU are healthy, happy, and reasonably fit, why punish yourself over food?

Relationships discussed

Originally posted Oct 6 2006 on my Friendster blog.

Note: Happy Mid-Autumn Festival everyone!

What counts as a relationship? An involvement of mind, heart, body and soul? Do you need all of the above or just one element will suffice?

We had an interesting session yesterday, discussing relationships, romances and regrets till 4am in the morning. When asked to list the number of exes she had, she said,

F1: " Oh, the official ones? Lets see... "

Gang: Huh? Official ones? Then what are UN-official ones?

F1: I count the official ones as the ones that lasted more than one month-lor...

Gang: *stunned*

Well, whatever makes one happy. But personally, I think that a relationship is official once two people decide to get together. Before getting together, they're just 'dating' and it's still 'unofficial'. So I would define a relationship as an involvement of mind and heart. Love (all-consuming and all-sacrificing) may come along only later but tender feelings are most likely (or should be) in play. Therefore, the 'soul' component is not all that necessary in the start of a relationship. As for 'body', it may or may not be there, depending on your age, inhibitions and upbringing. So 'mind' and 'heart' should be enough to constitute a relationship, shouldn't it? Time would have nothing to do with it. A relationship may last for 50 years or 5 days, but if you manage to love deeply, strongly and richly, the relationship will be more real to you than your own face in the mirror.

As the night wore on another story was told...

It was his first relationship and it lasted five years with the girl. However in all the years they were 'official', NOT ONCE did they hold hands, much less kiss. They didn't even communicate all that much, just through letters and notes passed from one to the other. It was never said out loud as the relationship was forbidden but the others around them understood that it existed. Such an arrangement would not even count in the eyes of many. But for the people involved, the emotions are real, the time devoted and commitment are real too. Though bound by nothing more than an unspoken promise, he had eyes for no one else for FIVE years. I think it was a relationship that was real enough to him and yet entailed nothing more than an involvement of mind and spirit.

I think there is no definite criteria for saying when a relationship starts. Each is unique in it's own set of circumstances. However, I do think that there is something very wrong with our world when so many HAVE EVERYTHING yet starve for love.

You can not seek love, it finds you.

You can not take love, you can only give it.

You can not know for the reason for love, you can only love.

You sometimes have to give love a chance, but love gives you more chances than you will ever know.

Congratulations!

Originally posted Oct 2nd 2006 on my Friendster blog.

Spring is here. Love is in the air. Can you smell the desperation?

Ha, just kidding. Although, I do want to congratulate A & E (yes, let just call them Accident and Emergency)! May you find in one another that which you truly seek.

*start singing* "A & E, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, second comes marriage, then comes E with a..."

Nevermind.

(Late liao, will write more next time.)

Yes, I officially popped my Cherry..

Originally posted on Sept 28 2006 on my Friendster blog.

My clubbing cherry lah, what are you thinking? Eeeyear... Dirty-minded...

So anyway, I went clubbing for the first time last night. *shock horror* I went only because my friend was the promoter and he asked very nicely. Heh heh. It was at Fix in the Docklands and was billed as the Cherry Event. Not that you'd be interested but I better get the details down before I forget them around lunchtime.

I was getting a lift there and back from a friend (MO) and we were a little late cos the other girl we had to pick up lived in a hard-to-find place. 'Late' means we got there about midnight. The first interesting thing that happened was with the parking. By the time we got the venue, there was no more street (read: free) parking available and we cruised the various paid-parking areas for a while to see which was cheaper. The cheapest worked out to be AUD $12 for 2-4 hours which is an utter rip-off as overnight parking in the CBD itself is only AUD $8. As we circled back to the parking area nearest to the club, we noticed that the boomgate was up so Mo just drove right in. "Free parking! Yay!" Then some not-so-bright dude drives up to the open boomgate and presses the ticket button, lowering the boomgate! Flying fish! Now we are parked, but without a ticket... We decided that we would worry about that later.

Lined up to get into the club (which makes me question the point of tickets) and once in, I checked my jacket in with the coat service people for AUD $4 (cha-ching!) and surveyed the scene. It was a wierd feeling because I got deja vu, hard. I've seen this scene before, done this before. But how? This is my first time ever clubbing! Then I realised. I'd done this countless times before during my stint in the Interact Club during high school. Ah, yes... The good old Interact Club. I remember 2 events where we did charity work but overwhelmingly, the rest of IC events I remember are of the 'clubbing' variety.

We squirmed our way through the crowd to the bar and I got a lemon-lime bitters (Thanks Dale!). I make it a point to DRINK drink only at home or in the company of family when out, but that's another story. We sipped our drinks and watched the action for a while. Nothing has changed since I was fifteen. The girls still wear too little and the guys still have too much product in their hair. The music was quite good though. I have to admit I was eager to get on the dance floor and start moving.

But there's where the difference lies. I was moving to the music and so was everyone else, but it had no hold for me. It wasn't forbidden anymore. In those IC events of the past, the hosting club usually booked a ballroom at a hotel and there would be dancing after the food was served and the tables cleared away. Everybody knew everybody (almost) and the dancefloor would be a dark, heaving, gyrating mass of bodies and hormones. It was naughty, forbidden, frowned upon. And I liked it like that! I remember those times of moving to the music, eyes closed, my arms above my head, hands in my hair. And pretty soon I would be joined by other arms sliding around my waist, other hands on my hips, on my back, just dancing. And I wouldn't even have to open my eyes because those hands would belong to someone I knew (usually) and what does it matter as long as he can dance well! (Hint: You know why women go crazy for a guy who can dance? It shows that he knows how to use his body...)

Last night was different. The thrill, the excitement of it was not there. Maybe it's because I'm EXPECTED to go clubbing now, maybe it's because I did it so often for 3 years, maybe I've grown up. Whatever it is, in the words of Mo as we left early at 2am:

"I am SO over clubbing..."

The second interesting thing for the night was getting OUT of the car park. We were calling for help already when a nice guy we knew walked by and asked us what was wrong. We explained the situation to him and he kindly drove up to the boomgate, pressed the ticket button and reversed out. The boomgate was up and we just drove out! Yay! Free parking!

Let's examine why I'm not normal..

Originally posted Sept 24 2006 on my Friendster blog.

Most people who know me will tell you I'm 'siao' (Hokkien for 'crazy'). Yes, crazy is my middle name. Well, maybe I'm not outright running-around-naked-flying-over-the-cuckoo's-nest crazy but I definitely have my 'not normal' moments.

Aged below 1 year

Mum: Eh, very quiet suddenly. Where is the baby?

Dad: Har? I dunno! 2 minutes ago she was sucking on that cushion over there.

Mum: Aiyoh, she must be doing THAT again!

Dad: Oh *toot*, quick check behind the curtain!

Mum & Dad hurry to the curtains and look behind them to find...

Toddler Siao Hui : *Squatting down, face scrunched up in intense concentration and a helluva stink coming from my nappy*

Aged 4 years

Kid Siao Hui: *Crying inconsolably*

Mum: What happened!? Why are you crying?

Kid SH: *Cries louder*

Mum: *Getting alarmed* What happened!? Tell mummy..

Kid SH: *chokes out the words between heartbroken sobs* Daddy is going to DIE!!

Mum: *Blur-kau* Huh?! Why!?!

Kid SH: Because he is going to grow taller and taller and then hit his head breaking through the ceiling......

Mum: *excuses herself to go laugh for half an hour*

Aged 6 years

Kid SH has been quietly and obediently sitting on her little red potty next to the fridge, trying very hard to convince the poo-poo to let go of her baby butt. Finally the poo gives up the fight and she gets up to look for mummy to clean her behind. She stands up, or tries to, as the potty has vaccum-sealed itself to her backside. She can't stand up straight as the contents of the potty will touch her bare bottom, neither can she pry the potty off. She half-squats and half-stands and duck-walks to the living room to find her mummy.
Kid SH: Mummy, help me!

Mum: *reading the newspaper* Finish poo-poo already?

Kid SH: Finish already, but the potty stuck to my backside...

Mum: *puts the newspaper down and looks as her daughter duck-walking towards her, with the potty dangling off her ass and understandably laughs till she cries*

Aged 10 years
Mum: *Notices the 50 cent sized bald patch right on her daughter's hairline, in the centre of her forehead* What happened!? Did you shave yourself!
Small SH: *small voice* Yes.....

Mum: Why on earth did you do such a thing!?!

Small SH: Because I wanted a centre parting in my hair...

Aged 16 years

Teenage SH: Ma, you know X? Always calls me wan?

Mum: Yes, why?

Teenage SH: He asked me to this ball this weekend, said he would pay for my ticket and all. If I go I will pay for my own ticket-lah, but should I go?

Mum: He wants to pay for you then LET HIM PAY-LAH! Aiyoh, why you sooooo stupid want to pay for your own ticket?

Teenage SH: He's not my boyfriend what! Besides, he's still in high school with no income, not nice to let him pay 50 bucks for my ticket.

Mum: Haiyo, why did I raise such a stupid daughter!? The guy is always supposed to pay for the girl! It shows that he respects you and that he is not stingy! If you pay for yourself, he will come to expect it and will be calculative. You want a guy like that har?

Teen SH: But Ma, I feel that if I happily let a guy pay my way for me then it's like I'm using him lor, especially if things don't work out. He will also expect something in return, either a relationship or *ahem* something else because I let him pay for me like he is my boyfriend! Like you always say, there's no such thing as a free lunch...

Mum: Haiya, it's always meant to be like that one! When your father was courting me, I never had to lift a finger or pay for anything! You have to make your boyfriend work for you to appreciate you! The reason there are so many divorces nowadays is because women nowadays let their men take them for granted!! Cannot!! Must let the guy pay!

Teen SH: *headache* Never mind. I dowan to go liao. If you want you can go in my place.

Aged 19 years

The ultimate proof of SH's siao-ness.

SH VOLUNTARILY applied for and got into university doing a double degree in Law and Commerce.

Enough said.

I soooooo fat meh?

Originally posted on Sept 19 2006 on my Friendster blog.

Edit: In light of the 'passionate' responses, I decided to share the reason behind this post. I buy girl mags like CLEO or Cosmopolitan every once in a while but the last 5 or 6 covers of both mags have been on STICK-THIN BLONDES WITH ORANGE TANS. I just refused to buy those mags and support the stereotype of FAKE women. FAKE in every way. From their fake blonde hair extensions, fake boobs to their fake tanned toes and worst of all, their fake character(self). Magazine editors, take note: Give me a real woman I can look up to and I'll buy your mag! To all my fellow real women, YOU ARE GORGEOUS THE WAY YOU ARE.

It all started early this year. I was back in sunny Singapore for a week or so, visiting my uncle and aunt while helping my aunt out in the office. My Shu-shu and Shen-shen (titles for paternal uncle and paternal uncle's wife) are quite fond of me and my 2 brothers and like to have any of us visit. During my stay, my uncle happily took me out for good food almost every night (he likes to eat also-lah, use me as an excuse only) and PUR-posely ordered a LOT.

One night while having dinner with my Shu-shu, Shen-shen and another couple they hang out with regularly, my uncle starts getting into me about my size/weight. Now, my uncle is a big guy. By big, I mean BIG. He gets me to buy his shirts from Australia cos Asian stores don't have his size. He is a friggin XXL. In Aussie sizes! And he's telling me about my weight!

Sigh..

The best part is, he offered me X bucks to lose 10 kgs. No installments, only if i lose the WHOLE 10kg will I get my hands on the dough. There will be some of you who already know how much moolah that is and for those in the dark, it is quite an obscene amount of money. I was a bit shocked, to say the least.

Me: Bluff! Sure or not?

Shu-shu: No, serious wan. You really lose 10kgs then I give you.

Shen-shen: Wah, good deal leh. Why you never offer to me? But I want more than X amount!

Me: Haiya, dowan la. Diet for what? I SOOOO fat meh? Where got 10kg to lose? Cheh! Like I cannot find clothes to wear liddat.

Uncle's friend: Haiya, lose 10kg very easy wan. I teach you, don't eat potato, rice, noodle.......

Etcetera etcetera. I didn't take it very seriously. Then I went home to JB and was telling my mum about the offer. My dad overheard me, put his newspaper down and loudly said:

"Good! If you really lose 10kgs, I'll double the offer!"

Double sigh.

Double the money, but that makes the offer doubly obscene. What's to stop me from dropping 10kg in a crash diet just to get the money and then piling the weight back on again? I'm not FAT, I'm not obese, I'm healthy, I can wear the clothes I want and I'm pleasing to the eye (or at least I think so-lah). I dance for a couple of hours every week, I am more flexible then most girls half my weight and I mostly cook my own meals. I don't drink (to excess), I don't smoke (at all) and I don't gamble (except on CNY). So why do I need to lose 10kgs?!?!
I LIKE my boobs and ass! I know more than a handful is too much for some people but I like it like that! I may whine about wanting model-skinny legs every once in a while but I KNOW that you cannot have boobs, ass AND skinny legs unless you went and zhng (plastic surgery) something. I got curves, cannot ar? Last time I got all dolled up and went out, the boys still liked what they saw. I seriously have a problem with the waif look that's so popular nowadays. THAT IS NOT WHAT A REAL WOMAN LOOKS LIKE.

All that being said, I do want to get fitter. If I were to exercise and watch what I eat it would be because I want to be healthier and fitter, not because I really-really-really want to fit into those size 8 jeans or because of 2X bucks. You think money/beauty can guarantee happiness? I know differently.

Dancing and sex

Originally posted on Sept 17 2006 on my Friendster blog.

By now most of you should know that I dance. Not the wriggling, dry-humping, I-am-having-an-epileptic-fit kind of spasming that is found in clubs/bars. I take classes in Salsa and Argentine Tango, Latin and Street Latin styles. And I dance because I love to dance. I love the high I get from a good hour of salsa, the deep satisfaction I derive from from tango. Dancing allows me to abandon my 'self' as I have to focus all my attention and awareness on the signals my partner is sending me in order to follow his lead. I have to read the next step in a shift of the shoulders, the slide of a thigh, a curl of the fingers or a flick of the wrist. Dancing makes me aware of my own body and how it moves and reacts to my partner's. Maybe it's no coincidence that my current man met while dancing and danced our way into 2 1/2 years and still counting.

Which brings me to this. Not so long ago, I was putting away my dance shoes after a class while some friends were making small talk about their weekends. There were sexual references made and lots of general laughter when they looked to me for comment.

Me: Well, I don't have sex so I wouldn't know.

*sudden shocked silence*

Him: No way! I don't believe that. *flashes big grin at me* You're just joking...

Her (of the notorious previous posts): Well, yeah, apparently she doesn't.

Me: *getting defensive* I don't, so what's wrong with that?

Him: *leans in and looks me in the eye* I don't believe that you can salsa with Aloy (Cuban guy with deep voice & chiseled body, instructor) then tango with Alberto (Argentinian with sexy accent, instructor) get all hot, sweaty and horny and not go home and have sex.

Me: *looks straight back* I don't. And neither does F3.

Him: *turns to F3 who has been quietly tracking the conversation in the corner* You too! Goodness, what is wrong with you hot chicks?!?

F3: Nothing!! What's wrong with that!?

Him: No, seriously, there's no way you guys can dance the way you do and not have lots of sex..

And the argument continues while they move out the door and finally I can pack up in peace.

I stewed over this for a while, examined my values and principles, reviewed the values and principles I held when I was a little younger and came up with this.

I am not FOR or AGAINST casual/premarital sex. I believe it's a personal choice and I have no right to judge. People do it or don't do it for lots of different reasons. I JUST DON'T THINK THE CONCEPT OF NO-CONSEQUESCES-SEX EXISTS. The Pill fails, condoms tear, people can get stubborn/drunk/both and the morning-after-pill can fail too. And that's just touching on pregnancy. What about STDs? Who knows what else the guys are including in their 'packages'? Ladies too! Almost all STDs have no visible symptoms in the outset so how can you tell? Even with all the precautions, having sex is a gamble and if you keep at it, your number will definitely come up. Some people choose to take the gamble, I choose not to because I have lousy luck in gambling. Someone once told me: "When you have sex with someone, you are also having sex with EVERY person your partner has ever had sex with and also every person your partner's partners have ever had sex with.

Ick.

Does dancing automatically lead to sex? Heck, then I'd better find out what places he's been frequenting and never go there for fear of being mauled. Or maybe I should just carry a big stick with me to class. I can understand why tango is nicknamed 'sex on hardwood' and I'd like to think I'm pretty good at tango but I've never felt the overwhelming need to ravish the nearest guy after a class. Hmph. Maybe it's because some people can't really differentiate between sensual vs sexual. Or maybe dance is an outlet for my 'frustration' and I don't need any more 'release' after that. Pffftt. In Anson's words: "I show you colour see see."

However, I'm also the kind to never say never. Who knows? Maybe one day, in the right setting, with the right person and in the right frame of mind, I just might-maybe-may get carried away. Until then (or until I get married, whichever is earlier), I'm happy to stay on this side of the sexperience fence and just listen to other's people's stories.

P.S. Practice safe sex, everybody...

What do you want to do?

Originally posted Sept 13 2006 on my Friendster blog.

Did you ever have a "things to do in this lifetime" list? I mean, it you don't actually have to have one written down and stored away somewhere. Maybe just a few things you thought you would do someday, once you move out of home/ get a girlfriend (boyfriend) / graduate / get a job / get married / saved enough money / buy your first car etc etc.. Or maybe you aren't the sort that thinks much about these kind of things.

I used to have a list. Not in written form anymore though. I remember being 14 and writing down all these things I wanted to do, experience or achieve. For the life of me though, I don't know where it is or what happened to it. And I can't remember all the items that I wrote down. Here are some of what at I do remember.

I wanted to ride in the Concorde at least once - it was retired some years ago.

I wanted to be a millionaire by the age of 30 - at the rate I'm going, I'll be lucky to have graduated by then.

I wanted to be the first Malaysian to climb the Everest - that's taken, just check the Malaysian book of records.. But I still want to climb it someday.

I wanted to live for a year in each of all the countries in the world - guess what? there are more countries than I have years left to live. I have done Malaysia and Australia though( yay! 2 out of 193!!).

I wanted to speak 5 languages fluently (besides English and Mandarin which I already do very well, thank you very much). French, Spanish, Arabic, Japanese and Italian - Well, I'm in the midst of picking up conversational Japanese but beyond that, nada.

I wanted to visit Antartica - After LIVING in Melbourne, I've realised that I don't do so well in the cold (understatement of the year!). So... we'll see.

I wanted to have 3 homes, one in the city, one by the sea and one in the mountains - At the age I am now, I can't stand living in KL (or any big, smoggy, noisy, smelly, stressful city). Living by the sea is not such a smart idea with global warming and all (not to mention tsunamis). As for the mountains, that's romantic but where am I going to buy my groceries from? Besides, there seems to be a lot of earthquakes nowadays.

So, have I changed from when I was a kid? Or has the world changed around me?

What do you do when your dreams cannot come true?

Tribute to you

Originally posted Sept 6 on my Friendster blog.

Winter desperately clings on to Melbourne while Spring drizzles gently but insistently to wash it away. I can almost hear Spring whisper, "Let go... Move on..."

The change in the season seems to reflect my mood as I've been rather melancholy lately. I've also been thinking a lot about my past and those dear to me, those who have touched my life and made impressions that linger to this day. While I was thinking about them, I realised that most of them I haven't seen or spoken to in a considerable time, and that they, in all likelihood, have no idea of what their influence on me has been. I'll be the first to admit that I'm lousy, absolutely terrible and utterly hopeless at keeping in touch. It wouldn't be that bad if I were in the country but sadly, I'm another continent away. I do not know if they still call me friend, but these are some of the people that I will always be dear to me. To one and to all, I want to say thank you.

Melissa: For always being there, for never giving up on me, for your optimism, courage and never-say-die in the face of all your troubles. For being my friend when you could have so easily gone the other way.

Charis: For your kindness and gentle nature, and yet managing to be steadfast to your faith and principles while being tolerant of others.

Sherina: For never judging, never losing your cool, for being able to understand without words.

Teo: For the courage to be true to yourself, and for always getting my dirty jokes ;P.

Sarah Ann: For your indomitable spirit, your faith in your own abilities and your ability to recognise bullsh*t and say it as it is. For always getting up when life deals you a fall.

Terence Lee AY: For always having a smile on your face, always making others laugh, taking no offence and for never giving up on finding love.

Sophine: For the courage to go for what you want, even if it is the path less travelled by and not giving a damn.

Pei Fen: For managing to be funny when you are sad, for your dedication to duty and infinite caring.

Kah Keong: For forgiving and forgetting. I'm sorry...

Elaine Chew: For guiding me when I needed it most, for your wise counsel, sympathy, and most of all your unwavering loyalty. I miss your sago pudding!

Bev: For your love of life, your loyalty, your ability to make me smile even when I thought I couldn't. For not breaking down when the world seems out to get you and managing to carry on.

Amanda Lim PS (I know a few Amanda Lims, ok!): For your appetite (eating-wise and dancing-wise), your determination to not take anyone's bullsh*t, your loyalty and ability to get me out of my comfort zone.

Michelle Chong HY: For enduring under impossible conditions, for never betraying yourself, for living when others would have given up. You inspire me.

Rosey Moo: For being larger than life and having a heart (and voice) that's even bigger than that.

Amar: For the courage to admit that you didn't have a destination, for teaching me that it's ok to take your own time to find your own pace and your own place in life. Appu, try to go easy on the drinking and smoking, ok?

Jason & Su Ee: For showing me what friendship was like. No matter what happened, till today, I cannot think of one of you without remembering the other. I miss the two of you yakking away in Hokkien over my head...

Raymond Hiew MT: For showing me a few things about myself, for giving me a goal to aim for, whether you knew it or not.

CJ : For feeding pigeons with me everyday, all those years ago in primary school.

Joyce Teo HJ: For the sheer vitality of you, the optimism, bubbliness and cheer that infects all around you.

Lorraine: For smiling when you were dying inside. Forgive me for not being there to catch you when you fell. I miss you, Rain.

I do know I've been less than ideal as a friend (girlfriend). I know that I am capable of being moody, selfish, forgetful, lazy, tactless and goodness knows what else. And I apologise. Each and every one of you is special to me in your own way, now and most likely always. We may meet again, we may not. I at least, will count you as a friend. I feel so much for you guys, so much that I cannot say.

Blessed be...

Fevered Dreams

Originally posted on Aug 26 2006 on my Friendster blog.

I was sick! I had a wonderful stratospheric high fever (complete with delusions and some hallucinations) and was coughing so long and so hard that I brought up blood. Yes, I'm fine now (mostly). No, I didn't see a doctor. I don't like panadol/antibiotics/medicine. They make my saliva taste funny, make my pee smell chemical and I'm allergic to half of the antibiotics anyway. Besides, the Doc would've just told me to do what I would have done on my own. Example of a typical consultation:

Doctor: *head down and mumbling to self* High temperature... Congestion in lungs... I'll just give you some lozenges for the cough and panadol for the fever. Drink more water and get some rest. Do you want some antibiotics?

Me: Do I need the anti.... (YOU are the doctor, YOU tell me!)

Doctor: No antibiotics then. *scribbles something that ends up looking like a dog turd on my patient file*

Me: *hallucinates about putting the thermometer up the doc's nostril*

Doctor: Ok, come back in 3 days and we'll see if you are better. Next!


So I'll be about AUD$60 poorer and none the wiser. That doesn't even include the medicine. For those who only have experience with Malaysian clinics/polyclinics, things work differently here. You go and see the doctor so you can pay him to tell you what you ALREADY know ("You have a fever / cough / missing leg") and then you go somewhere ELSE to buy your medicine.

Can you imagine being too sick to drive or not having access to a car? You'll have to get in a cab to go to the doctor, wait for hours, get your prescription, pay, then get into another cab to go to the pharmacist, wait in line again, pay for your medicine and THEN get into another cab to go home. You'll be lucky if you don't keel over and die while waiting in line. Oh, and half the time they don't know what's wrong with you so they either send you off somewhere else for some hideously expensive tests OR prescribe some medicine they THINK should work and ask you to come back to see if it actually worked.

Sigh. That's why I don't see a doctor unless I can't get better by myself. I think going to the doctor would make me sicker.

Gaming and Guilt

Originally posted on Aug 17 2006 on my Friendster blog.

No no no, not the bet-my-whole-family-fortune-on-the-roll-of-the-dice kind of gaming. I gamble only during Chinese New Year, and even then only in small amounts. By 'small' I mean bets of under $10 with the working adults and usually 10 cents with my cousins.. We've also used peanut shells, kuaci, and even glasses of water (no peeing while the game is still on). When I was still a scrawny kid, I once built a fortune of 30 bucks (!!!) from just 50 cents (!!! again) that my dad lent me to gamble. Guess what I did? I lost it all again, except for the original 50 cents which I returned.

Anyway, the gaming I'm referring to is of the computer kind. Oooh yeah, Civilisation IV, Emperor, Sims, Grim Fandango, Monkey Island I to IV, SimCity, Heroes of Might & Magic, etcetera etcetera... Why the guilt? Because games are EEEEEVIL..... Just take for example Civilisation IV which I just started playing on Monday (it's Thursday now). I was playing my first real game after the tutorials and what not. After I won, the stat report showed that I spent 19:46 hours playing. That's frickin' 20 hours!! I could have baked more cookies, read most of my material, exercised, cleaned my room, gone shopping, the list goes on. *Sigh* But it sure is fun thwacking barbarians...

Three What?!!

Originally posted on Aug 7 2006 on my Friendster blog.

You REALLY have to read the previous post before reading any further.

Anyway, I had just came out of my 9am killer tutorial and dazedly made my way to where I was supposed to be next, still trying to wake up. Who should I meet but HER once I got where I was going.

Me: Hey.. (flopping into a chair)

Her: (all big eyes and huge grin) Guess what I did on the weekend!!

Me: Don't tell me you met up with the mop (a story worthy of its own post).

Her: No...

Me: Then was it (name of 7 times guy)?

Her: No!

Me: Well?

Her: I had a THREESOME!

Me: ... (I woke up. Good thing I was sitting down)

Her: On the weekend, me and Friend 4 and F3 (from the previous post) went out dancing and I had a few drinks! And THEN, I got pilled, and the..

Me: Whoa whoa hang on, PILLED?

Her: I took ecstacy, and ended up in a threesome!! F3, F4 and I all went to their warehouse style apartment and yeah...

Me: Were you the meat or part of the bun? (perversely curious)

Her: Actually, I wa...

Me: Hang on, I really don't want to know... (brain finally kicks in) Waitaminit, you mean F3 and F4 were there?!??

Her: Oh, they didn't take anything, It was just me! They were downstairs and I was in the bedroom with these full length windows that were wide open and a great balcony..

Me: *blinking fast*

Her: My devil factor just shot through the roof, didn't it? (happy grin)

Me: A little... I think....Maybe...

Her: O-M-G, she was HOT. She was like 22 and he was like, 40.

Me: Right. Why, then? Or didn't you know he was part of the deal?

Her:Oh well. Not that it matters anyway, we got interrupted by their friends half-way through! (erupts into amused laughter)

Me: Hokay...

Sigh. Isn't it nice to be liberated? Most likely to be continued...

Fourteen Times!?!!

Originally posted Aug 3 2006 on my Friendster blog.


This is a real conversation, among real people, that happened in real time. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is entirely intentional.

Dinner is over, the dishes are being cleared, the bill is being divided..

Me: Don't pick up any guys on your way home, ya..

Her: I DON'T pick up guys on the way home!

Friend 1: Noooo, THEY pick you up..

General laughter all around.

Her: Come on, guys, it's not like i pick up people on the street or in public transport!

The rest of us: Hmm....

Her: Am i like the only bad-ass b*tch at this table?

Me: Well, I'm innocent, (pointing at Friend 3) she's innocent, (points at Friend 2) he's innocent, (points at Friend 1) and I'm not so sure about that one..

F1: Hoi! Don't simply say!!

Her: OMG, are you kidding? (clutches F3 who's right next to her) Are you really a virgin?

F3: *flustered* Umm, yeah..

Her: I guess I'm the ONLY bad-ass b*tch around here then..

Short pause.

Her: But the last guy I did it with was (delete guy's name)!

F2: *a bit blur* Hang on, i knew you guys were hanging out but you actually...

Me: (quickly whispers in blur friend's ear)

F2: *huge shocked eyes* OMG, SEVEN TIMES in one night!

Her: And that's not even my record...

We paid up and left the restaurant (it was a family kinda place during dinner hours and we were getting, well, kind of LOUD) and walked to the car.

F1 & F2: Seven times... How do you do seven times.... (they're walking and hunched over as if in pain so you can tell 1 & 2 are guys)

F2: I mean, I would be exhausted after say the 3rd time, maximum.

Her: Well, my record is 14 times.

F1 & F2: (stop dead in their tracks)

F3 & me: (clutch eatch other laughing at the boys and hanging on for support)

Her: (looks amused at all the innocent Asians. Well, 3 Asians and 1 Caucasian who's more Asian than Caucasian)

All Passers-by: Kids nowadays..... (sigh and shake head)

We eventually get to the car with the boys lagging a far way behind, looking squeamish and saying that they feel sick. Once everyone's seated and belted up in the car..

Me: But, where does it all go?

F2: (who is driving) Where do you THINK it goes, woman?!!!

Her: I can't believe you don't know the answer to that..

F1 pulls his cap waayy low over his eyes and F3 goes into hysterics.

Me: But if you do it 14 times..... doesn't it overflow? Where does THAT all go?

F2: (abruptly pulls into a nearby parking spot and gets out of the car) I DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT GOES WHERE Or what fitss........

F1: (also gets out of the car with his hands over his ears)

F3 and me: (clutch each other again inside the car, laughing so hard we are almost crying)

Her : (also gets out of the car, albeit more slowly) Why are we stopping? What IS wrong with the both of you? (addressed to F1 & F2, who are huddled together in fear near the car boot)

More shouted exchanges are made by those outside the car, but F3 and me can't hear a thing inside the car as we are laughing too hard. (giggles to self at the memory). Eventually we all calm down and decide to walk to a nearby store for bubble tea. While walking along...

Her: Anyway, no it doesn't overflow as it gets less and less each time..

F1 & F2 walk faster and faster ahead of us and F3 looks confused as to who to stick to.

Me: So you mean eventually it's just the big bang without the mess?

Her: Yup! He runs out of it, you know.. And if you use a condom, it kind of kills the feeling so it's not as much..

Me: You mean like it's not spontaneous?

Her: No, as in you don't feel anything.

F1 & F2 are waiting at a traffic light so we catch up to them.

Me: But what about those ultra-thin ones, or the 'ribbed for extra sensation' ones?

Her: Well, I really don't like them so I've used them about 3 or 4 times. I wouldn't know..

Me: Ok....

F1 & F2 stiffen their backs, shift from foot to foot and almost run away once the pedestrian lights turn green.

And the conversation goes on once we get to bubble tea and in fact degenerates a little more. But I think this is the portion that is more funny and I shall stop before i offend anyone. But yeah, i learnt a thing or two that night..

To blog or to bloge?

Originally posted Aug 2 2006 on my Friendster blog.

Half an hour after the previous post:

BF: "Do you know the origin of the word 'blog'?"
Me: *blink blink*
BF: "Blog is the short form of 'weblog' (one word only), so it's pronounced 'blog', not 'bloge'.
Me: Orh, now i know lor..

All hail the IT Master/Masters in IT

Oh, I have a blog?

Originally posted on Aug 2 2006 on my Friendster blog.

Oh dear.. It's been more than a year since i set this up but it totally slipped my mind that I have a blog. Ah well, if the the grander entrance is the later one, then this must be the mother of all entrances. I hope not though, excessive attention makes me nervous. "Ha! She? Nervous??!!" That would be the multitude of people who think i have the hide of a brontosaurus. Just to clarify things; except for when I'm pleasantly drunk on QFs, I can and occasionally do get nervous if I'm in the spotlight.

There's matter I'm curious to resolve. Is 'blog' pronounced to rhyme with 'log' or to rhyme with 'bloke' (sort of). Personally, i prefer 'log'. However, I know people on both camps vehemently insisting on their version of pronounciation. Actually, did you ever notice that 'proNOUNciation' is pronounced 'proNUNciation'? That should confuse all the ESL people...