Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Monday, December 04, 2006
Zero to Hero
You always hear about the total nerd who leaves school and becomes The Hotness. You know, all those movies that thrive on it. The Queer Eyed nerd, the brainiac hiding behind coke bottle glasses who suddenly becomes hot for that one magical prom night and has the ruler of the school fall head over heels. Then the nerd turns ruler down because they don't love the person behind the face...and then...they end up together anyway.
Or the Voted Ugliest Person In School person who comes back at 5 year reunion as the Hollywood Star. You know. The George Clooneys of the world.
Yeah. Well.
It doesn't happen in real life as I know it. Or so I thought.
Until I bumped into...well, let's call him um, Lanky. Ok. So Lanky in college was just that. Lanky. Everything about him was lanky. In fact, he was more gangly than lanky. He even had lanky hair. It looked unwashed most of the time, and always hung limp and stringy.
BUT. He was a great guy. I used to hang in his room. In fact, he was such a nice guy I occasionaly even scrubbed his sink for him when it turned too grey to bear. I was happy to. I couldn't really keep up a conversation when he was doing battle with a supermage now could I. I mean, the rest of us tried. But the sonic booms emitting from those speakers with sub-woofers and surround sound proved a little too difficult to outshout.
In fact, he was so nice, he seemed to be a hit with the ladies. Nevermind the glasses, the hair, the chicken legs or even the unhealthy obsession with blowing things up.
After college though, we lost contact and I thought that was that. I didn't even think about him much, except in fond memories of 3am nacho guzzling and 6am final paper writing ICQ/MSN conversations. (the conversations go along the lines of, "screw those birds, why are they singing. My god, the sun's up. Man I need more caffeine")
Fast forward what must be close to 4 years. Maybe more.
I'm minding my own business on a sunny Saturday, wandering around the swankiest part of town with not a scrap of makeup on my face, in bag lady clothes and my too-short hair pulled back in a haphazard ponytail.
Enter some random tall guy in dark sunglasses staring at me. I glare back at him. His friends seem friendly, if a trifle geek-chic in a tres chic area. Why is this freak staring at me? What? I'm too ugly for Toorak? Just because he's got the geek-chic look down pat. GAH.
Then he pulls off his clipon sunnies. And I realise it's Lanky.
Lanky with much nicer hair. Lanky with a buff bod. Lanky with a refined college professor look to him.
Eh?
I gape for a second, before my brain finally clicks over. It takes me a few more seconds to remember his name. "Lanky!" I cry. The smile that I used to classify "crooked" suddenly seems wry and strangely charming.
He's still recognisable, but geez he scrubs up well. The coke bottles have been replaced by thin wire frames that suit his face. He's still not devastatingly handsome, but he's charming enough for girls to consider him good-looking in a nerdy way. He's what that professor from the Da Vinci Code SHOULD have looked like. Not Tom Hanks.
He has a presence and stillness that seems to belong on gentlemen. The Pierce Brosnans of the world. My head is not comprehending.
He's still the same though. He gives me a big hug, and we chat. We exchange email addresses (ah, so that's what his surname is, I'd forgotten!) and we catch up with the goss on old friends.
And then we part ways, leaving me gobsmacked at what I'd just seen.
My first, real life, metamorphosis.
People gape when I do my geek freak to cool chick routine every so often, but I have to say, I never realised why people started and stared. And now I know why.
And it scares me that we're all such a bunch of superficial saddos.
Listening to: Charlotte Martin's remake of the Rolling Stones classic- Wild Horses.
Or the Voted Ugliest Person In School person who comes back at 5 year reunion as the Hollywood Star. You know. The George Clooneys of the world.
Yeah. Well.
It doesn't happen in real life as I know it. Or so I thought.
Until I bumped into...well, let's call him um, Lanky. Ok. So Lanky in college was just that. Lanky. Everything about him was lanky. In fact, he was more gangly than lanky. He even had lanky hair. It looked unwashed most of the time, and always hung limp and stringy.
BUT. He was a great guy. I used to hang in his room. In fact, he was such a nice guy I occasionaly even scrubbed his sink for him when it turned too grey to bear. I was happy to. I couldn't really keep up a conversation when he was doing battle with a supermage now could I. I mean, the rest of us tried. But the sonic booms emitting from those speakers with sub-woofers and surround sound proved a little too difficult to outshout.
In fact, he was so nice, he seemed to be a hit with the ladies. Nevermind the glasses, the hair, the chicken legs or even the unhealthy obsession with blowing things up.
After college though, we lost contact and I thought that was that. I didn't even think about him much, except in fond memories of 3am nacho guzzling and 6am final paper writing ICQ/MSN conversations. (the conversations go along the lines of, "screw those birds, why are they singing. My god, the sun's up. Man I need more caffeine")
Fast forward what must be close to 4 years. Maybe more.
I'm minding my own business on a sunny Saturday, wandering around the swankiest part of town with not a scrap of makeup on my face, in bag lady clothes and my too-short hair pulled back in a haphazard ponytail.
Enter some random tall guy in dark sunglasses staring at me. I glare back at him. His friends seem friendly, if a trifle geek-chic in a tres chic area. Why is this freak staring at me? What? I'm too ugly for Toorak? Just because he's got the geek-chic look down pat. GAH.
Then he pulls off his clipon sunnies. And I realise it's Lanky.
Lanky with much nicer hair. Lanky with a buff bod. Lanky with a refined college professor look to him.
Eh?
I gape for a second, before my brain finally clicks over. It takes me a few more seconds to remember his name. "Lanky!" I cry. The smile that I used to classify "crooked" suddenly seems wry and strangely charming.
He's still recognisable, but geez he scrubs up well. The coke bottles have been replaced by thin wire frames that suit his face. He's still not devastatingly handsome, but he's charming enough for girls to consider him good-looking in a nerdy way. He's what that professor from the Da Vinci Code SHOULD have looked like. Not Tom Hanks.
He has a presence and stillness that seems to belong on gentlemen. The Pierce Brosnans of the world. My head is not comprehending.
He's still the same though. He gives me a big hug, and we chat. We exchange email addresses (ah, so that's what his surname is, I'd forgotten!) and we catch up with the goss on old friends.
And then we part ways, leaving me gobsmacked at what I'd just seen.
My first, real life, metamorphosis.
People gape when I do my geek freak to cool chick routine every so often, but I have to say, I never realised why people started and stared. And now I know why.
And it scares me that we're all such a bunch of superficial saddos.
Listening to: Charlotte Martin's remake of the Rolling Stones classic- Wild Horses.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Slinky winky, lost your password. Again! again! Can you give me your password again?
Most excited about: My 1st hens night. This will be the 1st I've been to, because all my other friends just went and got married.
Going to: Sail away, sail away sail away.
Am: Sick
Happy: Halloween!
Want: Fake tan, more money and to do so many more things than my life will allow.
Love: The new Third Millenium range, Les Mills and restarting my dance lessons. The flowers in my lounge.
Most excited about: My 1st hens night. This will be the 1st I've been to, because all my other friends just went and got married.
Going to: Sail away, sail away sail away.
Am: Sick
Happy: Halloween!
Want: Fake tan, more money and to do so many more things than my life will allow.
Love: The new Third Millenium range, Les Mills and restarting my dance lessons. The flowers in my lounge.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
The adventures of Nose Hair Man pt3.
If anyone's been reading me since my old days, you'll remember dear old Nose Hair Man.
Nose Hair Man, for those of you who aren't in the loop, is some weirdo Spanish dude with a huge thing for young asian girls. I don't know how he picks them, but he does. He usually walks round the city in a suit carrying a briefcase, and tells girls that he works as a chartered accountant "over there", usually pointing towards the Spencer Street end.
When he once handed me his business card, it was a YAHOO ADDRESS. no friggin chartered accountant worth his salt is going to give out business cards with a yahoo address.
Anywhoo.....he's attempted to pick me up at least 3 times. (not including the one time he approached, but then turned away again for some unknown reason)
Anyway, today, while looking like total shite at 11am in the morning, carrying takeaway boxes to Lis' place, he tried to approach me at Vic Mart, complete with trolley. I was going to cross, but realised it was a red light, and stopped. He on the other hand (and his lovely 70s brown trolley) was so focussed on me he attempted to cross when I did and had to pull back later, causing his trolley to lose balance.
I nearly laughed in his face.
He still attempted to chat me up despite my unwashed hair and extremely fetching pimple.
Note to Nose Hair Man- pluck that offending nostril hair, and join a bingo club or something. I'm sure there are plenty of swooning MILFs willing to fling themselves at you on account of your European accent.
Nose Hair Man, for those of you who aren't in the loop, is some weirdo Spanish dude with a huge thing for young asian girls. I don't know how he picks them, but he does. He usually walks round the city in a suit carrying a briefcase, and tells girls that he works as a chartered accountant "over there", usually pointing towards the Spencer Street end.
When he once handed me his business card, it was a YAHOO ADDRESS. no friggin chartered accountant worth his salt is going to give out business cards with a yahoo address.
Anywhoo.....he's attempted to pick me up at least 3 times. (not including the one time he approached, but then turned away again for some unknown reason)
Anyway, today, while looking like total shite at 11am in the morning, carrying takeaway boxes to Lis' place, he tried to approach me at Vic Mart, complete with trolley. I was going to cross, but realised it was a red light, and stopped. He on the other hand (and his lovely 70s brown trolley) was so focussed on me he attempted to cross when I did and had to pull back later, causing his trolley to lose balance.
I nearly laughed in his face.
He still attempted to chat me up despite my unwashed hair and extremely fetching pimple.
Note to Nose Hair Man- pluck that offending nostril hair, and join a bingo club or something. I'm sure there are plenty of swooning MILFs willing to fling themselves at you on account of your European accent.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
my diet is too high in media
So....given the industry I work in...do magazines count as "educational"? hmmm.
Anyway. I've been on the MIFF trail. I planned it carefully- no movies with a very high chance of general/art cinema release to maximise my dollar. Which means I ended up watching Perhaps Love (Chinese musical?!? too bizzare to pass up. Especially when it stars the divine Takeshi Kaneshiro), Everlasting regret (Sammi Cheng doing a very impressive Mandarin accent) Three Times (Hou Hsiao Hsien, Shu Qi....yeah why not) 4:30 (Singapore's bad boy deserves my 15 quid).
But all these Chinese movies with a Shanghai nostaligia have made me hanker for those classic oldies. Teresa Teng is rating very highly at the moment. (bu zhi dao wei le she mo....) Everlasting regret....DAMN YOU!!!!
and then I found the hottest thing....the Chinese version of the Verve Remixed/Unmixed series. Shanghai Lounge Divas Vol. 1 and 2. hmmmmm......hmmmmm.....hmmmmmm......of course, given my crap Chinese skillz, I'll need to nurse the lyrics booklet in my lap with a Chinese-English dictionary in my hands because I hate not understanding what a song's all about.
I've also gone all Muslim in my video rentals of late - Paradise Now and Le Grand Voyage....and I'm waiting for the fallout of MIFF to come through including all the political movies. AL Gore's An Inconvenient Truth is sitting at No. 1 at the moment. GLOBAL WARMING IS GOING TO KILL US ALL.
You know I've been doing too much media consumption when the theme party tonight has the theme "Space Mutant and Farm Animals" and when someone asks me what I'm going as I immediately reply "How about....dressed normally. Then I can pretend I'm Kim Basinger from My Stepmother Is An Alien". When I could have said something like....A pig from Animal Farm? (after careful thought, I've decided that bunny is the best way to go given that a) I already have the ears b) I don't need to step too much out of character as a destructive pest)
Seriously humming: The Rolling Stones- It's Only Rock and Roll (but I like it)
Anyway. I've been on the MIFF trail. I planned it carefully- no movies with a very high chance of general/art cinema release to maximise my dollar. Which means I ended up watching Perhaps Love (Chinese musical?!? too bizzare to pass up. Especially when it stars the divine Takeshi Kaneshiro), Everlasting regret (Sammi Cheng doing a very impressive Mandarin accent) Three Times (Hou Hsiao Hsien, Shu Qi....yeah why not) 4:30 (Singapore's bad boy deserves my 15 quid).
But all these Chinese movies with a Shanghai nostaligia have made me hanker for those classic oldies. Teresa Teng is rating very highly at the moment. (bu zhi dao wei le she mo....) Everlasting regret....DAMN YOU!!!!
and then I found the hottest thing....the Chinese version of the Verve Remixed/Unmixed series. Shanghai Lounge Divas Vol. 1 and 2. hmmmmm......hmmmmm.....hmmmmmm......of course, given my crap Chinese skillz, I'll need to nurse the lyrics booklet in my lap with a Chinese-English dictionary in my hands because I hate not understanding what a song's all about.
I've also gone all Muslim in my video rentals of late - Paradise Now and Le Grand Voyage....and I'm waiting for the fallout of MIFF to come through including all the political movies. AL Gore's An Inconvenient Truth is sitting at No. 1 at the moment. GLOBAL WARMING IS GOING TO KILL US ALL.
You know I've been doing too much media consumption when the theme party tonight has the theme "Space Mutant and Farm Animals" and when someone asks me what I'm going as I immediately reply "How about....dressed normally. Then I can pretend I'm Kim Basinger from My Stepmother Is An Alien". When I could have said something like....A pig from Animal Farm? (after careful thought, I've decided that bunny is the best way to go given that a) I already have the ears b) I don't need to step too much out of character as a destructive pest)
Seriously humming: The Rolling Stones- It's Only Rock and Roll (but I like it)
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Booze Schooze (Or how I ended up in a seedy joint and why someone offered to do me in the ass)
WARNING. This is a rant with no point to it at all
I think it’s pretty safe to say I’m not a political animal. I hate playing games of any kind, even innocent ones like Monopoly and blackjack. I get tired after too many parties. And most importantly, I lack ambition. Well, I have ambition, just not enough to want to be nice to people I don’t like.
However, as it’s necessary to go for these industry gigs every so often, and because it looks great on my CV AND because I was nominated, I went for one of those dinners.
With Talchie and Grumpyboots, my wingpeople from the mothership, we turned up at one of those chi-chi bar/lounge/restaurants in St Kilda that everyone’s doing nowadays. As we turn up, we’re plied with gourmet pizza and wine and told on no uncertain terms that we have to mingle.
One hour later, we have a five minute speech about our roles, and then it’s back to schmoozing. Talchie, Grumpyboots and I split during the night so as not to seem too cliquish, and kept getting stunned by the sheer aura of schmooze. I’ll have to admit, on the outside, I don’t think any of us were faring any worse than the others. In fact, with the knowledge that we were reallyreallygoodlooking and armed with brilliant smiles and stellar intellect, I may have to say that we were workin’ the damn place. (although in this industry, every person and their manicured dog is reallyreallygoodlooking and armed with brilliant (porcelain veneered) smiles and a 50-50 mix of scathing wit and intellect or just really good looks and a whole lotta charm. The occasional dumb person does slip through the cracks, but I suspect they don’t last very long.
Totally wasted by the ravages of schmoozing and the effects of alcohol, we walked out into the cold winter night…and into the pub right across the road. “Look!” cried Talchie, “none of that pretentious bullshit!” she yelled as the Carlton Draught neon light reeled her in faster than you could say “drinks like a fish”.
We found a pub that looked so greasy it could have belonged in any number of Brit movies about the underprivileged underclass. As the bartender leered at Talchie while she ordered 3 beers, we looked around at the difference between chichichic and downdowntown.
There were toothless old men with tar-stained teeth, and the odd lady who really did look like she could have had a role as an extra in Kath and Kim.
As we sat down to our beers, we were not-so-quietly chatting amongst ourselves when a big, no, GIANT bosomed lady leant down beside our table and asked for money for her company.
We said no, and suddenly realised other things we hadn’t noticed before. Like how there were no other women in the bar. Or how the blackboard on the wall actually said “Happy Hour- Topless Barmaids 5-6pm. Strippers 8-30 through to 11.30 hourly shows”.
Hmmm. HMMMMMMMM.
Grumpyboots kept trying to leave because he hadn’t packed and had a 5am flight to Brissie. I kept trying to leave because I suddenly realised the men really were leering at us and it wasn’t just my imagination.
And there sat Talchie. “BUT I Haven’t finished my beer yet!!!!”
10minutes of hassling later, Talchie got up. But only after some tradie in too-short-shorts (pubic hair sighting would have been imminent if we didn’t avert our eyes) tried to grab her shoulder.
As we walked out of the pub, we tried to sort taxi arrangements. Grumpyboots and Talchie lived in the opposite direction. But as one appeared over the horizon, and Grumpyboots told me to get in, Talchie got in instead….right when a group of 3 other tradies started offering to do us in the ass.
Now I hate to sound all conservative and narrow-minded. But let’s just say that being ass-fucked by a guy I find extremely unattractive and whom I additionally don’t know makes me very unwilling to compromise myself.
So I jumped into the cab as well.
Which left Grumpyboots there, yelling into the cab, One Of You Has To Get OUT!!! And when we both refused, he jumped in mumbling “I’m not going to be left alone to some butt pirate”
Halfway round the world later (to quote a very drunk and grumpy Grumpyboots), I got home, and as Talchie tells it, Grumpyboots was filled with “I hate you” comments about having to travel to get home.
Being the nice, good Samaritan I am, I actually woke up at 5am to make sure Grumpyboots got to the airport on time. And went to work fuelled by a gargantuan cup of coffee. (funny, I just typed copy. I’m going crazy)
I tell you. These ungrateful boys. I call them to make sure they’re up, and not being ass raped and they complain about driving halfway round the world for the favour.
I think it’s pretty safe to say I’m not a political animal. I hate playing games of any kind, even innocent ones like Monopoly and blackjack. I get tired after too many parties. And most importantly, I lack ambition. Well, I have ambition, just not enough to want to be nice to people I don’t like.
However, as it’s necessary to go for these industry gigs every so often, and because it looks great on my CV AND because I was nominated, I went for one of those dinners.
With Talchie and Grumpyboots, my wingpeople from the mothership, we turned up at one of those chi-chi bar/lounge/restaurants in St Kilda that everyone’s doing nowadays. As we turn up, we’re plied with gourmet pizza and wine and told on no uncertain terms that we have to mingle.
One hour later, we have a five minute speech about our roles, and then it’s back to schmoozing. Talchie, Grumpyboots and I split during the night so as not to seem too cliquish, and kept getting stunned by the sheer aura of schmooze. I’ll have to admit, on the outside, I don’t think any of us were faring any worse than the others. In fact, with the knowledge that we were reallyreallygoodlooking and armed with brilliant smiles and stellar intellect, I may have to say that we were workin’ the damn place. (although in this industry, every person and their manicured dog is reallyreallygoodlooking and armed with brilliant (porcelain veneered) smiles and a 50-50 mix of scathing wit and intellect or just really good looks and a whole lotta charm. The occasional dumb person does slip through the cracks, but I suspect they don’t last very long.
Totally wasted by the ravages of schmoozing and the effects of alcohol, we walked out into the cold winter night…and into the pub right across the road. “Look!” cried Talchie, “none of that pretentious bullshit!” she yelled as the Carlton Draught neon light reeled her in faster than you could say “drinks like a fish”.
We found a pub that looked so greasy it could have belonged in any number of Brit movies about the underprivileged underclass. As the bartender leered at Talchie while she ordered 3 beers, we looked around at the difference between chichichic and downdowntown.
There were toothless old men with tar-stained teeth, and the odd lady who really did look like she could have had a role as an extra in Kath and Kim.
As we sat down to our beers, we were not-so-quietly chatting amongst ourselves when a big, no, GIANT bosomed lady leant down beside our table and asked for money for her company.
We said no, and suddenly realised other things we hadn’t noticed before. Like how there were no other women in the bar. Or how the blackboard on the wall actually said “Happy Hour- Topless Barmaids 5-6pm. Strippers 8-30 through to 11.30 hourly shows”.
Hmmm. HMMMMMMMM.
Grumpyboots kept trying to leave because he hadn’t packed and had a 5am flight to Brissie. I kept trying to leave because I suddenly realised the men really were leering at us and it wasn’t just my imagination.
And there sat Talchie. “BUT I Haven’t finished my beer yet!!!!”
10minutes of hassling later, Talchie got up. But only after some tradie in too-short-shorts (pubic hair sighting would have been imminent if we didn’t avert our eyes) tried to grab her shoulder.
As we walked out of the pub, we tried to sort taxi arrangements. Grumpyboots and Talchie lived in the opposite direction. But as one appeared over the horizon, and Grumpyboots told me to get in, Talchie got in instead….right when a group of 3 other tradies started offering to do us in the ass.
Now I hate to sound all conservative and narrow-minded. But let’s just say that being ass-fucked by a guy I find extremely unattractive and whom I additionally don’t know makes me very unwilling to compromise myself.
So I jumped into the cab as well.
Which left Grumpyboots there, yelling into the cab, One Of You Has To Get OUT!!! And when we both refused, he jumped in mumbling “I’m not going to be left alone to some butt pirate”
Halfway round the world later (to quote a very drunk and grumpy Grumpyboots), I got home, and as Talchie tells it, Grumpyboots was filled with “I hate you” comments about having to travel to get home.
Being the nice, good Samaritan I am, I actually woke up at 5am to make sure Grumpyboots got to the airport on time. And went to work fuelled by a gargantuan cup of coffee. (funny, I just typed copy. I’m going crazy)
I tell you. These ungrateful boys. I call them to make sure they’re up, and not being ass raped and they complain about driving halfway round the world for the favour.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
I think you just answered your own question
June 9, 2006
The English debate
The Education Ministry announced on Monday that they are setting up a new initiative to improve the teaching and learning of English in schools.
Has the standard of English in Singapore declined in recent years? Can English and Singlish co-exists? Why are some students finding it hard to speak standard English?
The STI podcast team finds out.
-from the Straits Times landing page
The English debate
The Education Ministry announced on Monday that they are setting up a new initiative to improve the teaching and learning of English in schools.
Has the standard of English in Singapore declined in recent years? Can English and Singlish co-exists? Why are some students finding it hard to speak standard English?
The STI podcast team finds out.
-from the Straits Times landing page
Monday, May 29, 2006
my ex-lecturer's been implicated. Hmmmm. she never minced her words- was bound to piss a few people off.
I have so much to blog about. so little time. in summary, I've been learning alot about aparthied. (think gimme hope joanna)
dyed my hair, cut it, (I look more orphan Annie than choc brown- which is what I was going for)
and I have $68 till the 15th.
I also may have a wheat allergy to go along with my whole host of others. oh. and one more time with passion- I'm growing fat
Listening to: Smashing Pumpkins - Landslide
I have so much to blog about. so little time. in summary, I've been learning alot about aparthied. (think gimme hope joanna)
dyed my hair, cut it, (I look more orphan Annie than choc brown- which is what I was going for)
and I have $68 till the 15th.
I also may have a wheat allergy to go along with my whole host of others. oh. and one more time with passion- I'm growing fat
Listening to: Smashing Pumpkins - Landslide
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Splat
yeah. yeah yeah. I did it again. I fall flat on my face...after tripping over my own left foot.
I am so good at this shit.
This time, it was my boots. The laces came undone, but instead of untying, they just kinda pooled around my ankles in a lasso-deathgrip until the time came to put my er, right foot forward. Then I simply tripped on lasso, went on a minor upward trajectory before landing splat in the middle of a parking lot. flat.
deathly silence for 2 seconds.
Magicman staring down at me. "Are you ok?"
Tara laughing like crazy "God, that looks like it really hurt."
together "are you ok?"
What was really going on in my head was "thank god I'm wearing nice underwear".
not as random as you think when you consider that I was wearing a short plaid skirt...with my knee high boots. It's a hot look if I may say so myself...doesn't show much skin, but gives the impression that you are, all the while your flab is pretty much covered up and your good bits are pushed up and out, lean and long. Really quite appealing so long as you're not flat on tarmac in dead person white chalk outline pose.
Also not if you've got a silent suspicion everyone's looking at your ass because you're not too sure whether your skirt has flipped up or not.
So yes, my pain tolerance is pretty high...and yes, that was what was actually running through my head.
So I get into the car, and Tara asks if I'm bleeding. I look down, realise I am, and Magicman hands over the tissue box.
I'm trying my best to make light of the situation...
"OKAY Magicman, I get the idea! I promise I'm not bleeding all over your ride ok?"
and he's just giving me this traumatised look (I'm getting surer by the minute that he's seen my ass)
and BECAUSE Tara and Magicman both work with me, I'm also silently praying they don't spread it all over work. Turns out they don't, and I'm the only one having to explain mysterious scrapes and bruises on my knees.
"My boyfriend pushed me down the stairs" is my favourite, and since I'm staunchly single, I really don't think he minds.
THIS POST WAS PROUDLY BROUGHT TO YOU BY OFFKILTER'S INSISTENCE, everyone's HELLO AND SWOLLENBLINK'S BIRTHDAY.
I am so good at this shit.
This time, it was my boots. The laces came undone, but instead of untying, they just kinda pooled around my ankles in a lasso-deathgrip until the time came to put my er, right foot forward. Then I simply tripped on lasso, went on a minor upward trajectory before landing splat in the middle of a parking lot. flat.
deathly silence for 2 seconds.
Magicman staring down at me. "Are you ok?"
Tara laughing like crazy "God, that looks like it really hurt."
together "are you ok?"
What was really going on in my head was "thank god I'm wearing nice underwear".
not as random as you think when you consider that I was wearing a short plaid skirt...with my knee high boots. It's a hot look if I may say so myself...doesn't show much skin, but gives the impression that you are, all the while your flab is pretty much covered up and your good bits are pushed up and out, lean and long. Really quite appealing so long as you're not flat on tarmac in dead person white chalk outline pose.
Also not if you've got a silent suspicion everyone's looking at your ass because you're not too sure whether your skirt has flipped up or not.
So yes, my pain tolerance is pretty high...and yes, that was what was actually running through my head.
So I get into the car, and Tara asks if I'm bleeding. I look down, realise I am, and Magicman hands over the tissue box.
I'm trying my best to make light of the situation...
"OKAY Magicman, I get the idea! I promise I'm not bleeding all over your ride ok?"
and he's just giving me this traumatised look (I'm getting surer by the minute that he's seen my ass)
and BECAUSE Tara and Magicman both work with me, I'm also silently praying they don't spread it all over work. Turns out they don't, and I'm the only one having to explain mysterious scrapes and bruises on my knees.
"My boyfriend pushed me down the stairs" is my favourite, and since I'm staunchly single, I really don't think he minds.
THIS POST WAS PROUDLY BROUGHT TO YOU BY OFFKILTER'S INSISTENCE, everyone's HELLO AND SWOLLENBLINK'S BIRTHDAY.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Friday, April 14, 2006
meme from kavi
1. A song by a Beatle: Imagine by John Lennon
2. A song featuring piano as the main instrument: A Sorta Fairytale – Tori Amos…although it does have a synth drum…uh…..Speechless- Jay Chou
3. A song with a woman's name in the title: Lola…L.O.L.A LOLA…lolololo lola
4. A song with a man's name in the title: BILLY Jean? Jimmy Dean??? (That really old song- about Blue Jean Baby Queens?) update: it's called Rock On. Darn.
5. A song about money: Love Don't Cost a Thing- J.Lo
6. A song with weather in the title: The Four Seasons- Vivaldi
7. A song with parentheses in the title (these are parentheses): Pride (in The Name of Love) – U2
8. A song made by a punk band: Self Esteem- The Offspring (before they sold out)
9. A song with the word "song" in the title: A Song for The Lovers – Richard Ashcroft
10. A song you love so much you stop and listen whenever you hear it/put it on repeat mode and never get sick of it:
Ohhh. Uh.
Sting- Fields of Gold, Elvis Costello- She, Nina Simone, U2- One, Stuck in the Middle with you, 7 Nation Army – The White Stripes, Cocteau Twins, Faye Wong- Chesspiece; Stef Sun- Teh Oh Oh, Andreas Johnson- Glorious. Cake- Daria. Chunari Chunari, Balle Balle! (I'm such a closet curry), Collective Soul- Run, Massive Attack- Teardrop, Placebo- Every Me and Every You, Destiny's Child- Jumpin Jumpin', Nelly & N*Sync- Girlfriend, Seal- Prayer for the Dying,
I actually have a playlist of stuff I can listen to on repeat. This is part of it…can't remember the rest. Some portishead in there, and a lot more RnB
***
I love super-long weekends.
2. A song featuring piano as the main instrument: A Sorta Fairytale – Tori Amos…although it does have a synth drum…uh…..Speechless- Jay Chou
3. A song with a woman's name in the title: Lola…L.O.L.A LOLA…lolololo lola
4. A song with a man's name in the title: BILLY Jean? Jimmy Dean??? (That really old song- about Blue Jean Baby Queens?) update: it's called Rock On. Darn.
5. A song about money: Love Don't Cost a Thing- J.Lo
6. A song with weather in the title: The Four Seasons- Vivaldi
7. A song with parentheses in the title (these are parentheses): Pride (in The Name of Love) – U2
8. A song made by a punk band: Self Esteem- The Offspring (before they sold out)
9. A song with the word "song" in the title: A Song for The Lovers – Richard Ashcroft
10. A song you love so much you stop and listen whenever you hear it/put it on repeat mode and never get sick of it:
Ohhh. Uh.
Sting- Fields of Gold, Elvis Costello- She, Nina Simone, U2- One, Stuck in the Middle with you, 7 Nation Army – The White Stripes, Cocteau Twins, Faye Wong- Chesspiece; Stef Sun- Teh Oh Oh, Andreas Johnson- Glorious. Cake- Daria. Chunari Chunari, Balle Balle! (I'm such a closet curry), Collective Soul- Run, Massive Attack- Teardrop, Placebo- Every Me and Every You, Destiny's Child- Jumpin Jumpin', Nelly & N*Sync- Girlfriend, Seal- Prayer for the Dying,
I actually have a playlist of stuff I can listen to on repeat. This is part of it…can't remember the rest. Some portishead in there, and a lot more RnB
***
I love super-long weekends.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
hellloooooo is anyone out there?
somehow, this blog has been so neglected I'm surprised it hasn't started sprouting ivy and moss off the sides instead of falling grey autumn leaves. I don't think even my old faithfuls back in da singapura read this anymore.
In case you're wondering, I'm at an internet cafe ($3/h- not bad)
anyway. work is fine. except that I seem to have no idea how everyone else manages to live off $2000 a month. I mean, sure Magicman lives at home still (which explains it), and some others live in Preston and whatnot, but surely I can't be eating THAT WELL that I'm always broke by the end of my financial month???? geesh.
so as an update. Last night I met a gravedigger.
He had some really interesting things to tell. For example, a family plot in my head was always like a family vault. You know. Like pyramids sort of, you cordon off an area, and that's it. It's the Smith Family Area. Hands and feet off assholes. and no plucking the daisies either.
Nope.
Apparently, a family plot means you're buried one on top of the other! How's that?
and there's a really advanced science into the measurements of the hole, how to make sure the earth doesn't collapse in on you...all that stuff.
I was fascinated right through two drinks.
Also met a few people from work, finally figured out who the mystery Sudler and Hennessey girl was...and trafficdude was there at least half drunk and playing pool like a demon.
Salsaed a little with people who didn't know how to so we all just er....booty shook a little, before I caught a taxi home to call...who else but good old mum.
I've said it once, I'll say it again- Mum really should have thought about the repercussions when she sent me off at 14. Like me dead in a ditch of a drug overdose on any given weekend when I'm meant to call her and she's "worried sick" waiting for the phone to ring (but never actually picks up the phone to call).
Anyway, must remember to call gramps for her birthday. I always put it off because I don't understand the Cantonese she speaks (I USED to, and she thinks I still can) and I kind of go "yeah, ok,m uh huh". Although it's odd because...she understands English and Mando perfectly. Ah well.
It's nice and cold today, I'm loving the coldweather. this spacebar thing is annoying but I don't mind...especially when they're playing Prince's Purple Rain overhead.
Oh yes, I went on the blog rounds. SLINKY, if you still on the offchance read this, for gawdssakes, give me your password.
In case you're wondering, I'm at an internet cafe ($3/h- not bad)
anyway. work is fine. except that I seem to have no idea how everyone else manages to live off $2000 a month. I mean, sure Magicman lives at home still (which explains it), and some others live in Preston and whatnot, but surely I can't be eating THAT WELL that I'm always broke by the end of my financial month???? geesh.
so as an update. Last night I met a gravedigger.
He had some really interesting things to tell. For example, a family plot in my head was always like a family vault. You know. Like pyramids sort of, you cordon off an area, and that's it. It's the Smith Family Area. Hands and feet off assholes. and no plucking the daisies either.
Nope.
Apparently, a family plot means you're buried one on top of the other! How's that?
and there's a really advanced science into the measurements of the hole, how to make sure the earth doesn't collapse in on you...all that stuff.
I was fascinated right through two drinks.
Also met a few people from work, finally figured out who the mystery Sudler and Hennessey girl was...and trafficdude was there at least half drunk and playing pool like a demon.
Salsaed a little with people who didn't know how to so we all just er....booty shook a little, before I caught a taxi home to call...who else but good old mum.
I've said it once, I'll say it again- Mum really should have thought about the repercussions when she sent me off at 14. Like me dead in a ditch of a drug overdose on any given weekend when I'm meant to call her and she's "worried sick" waiting for the phone to ring (but never actually picks up the phone to call).
Anyway, must remember to call gramps for her birthday. I always put it off because I don't understand the Cantonese she speaks (I USED to, and she thinks I still can) and I kind of go "yeah, ok,m uh huh". Although it's odd because...she understands English and Mando perfectly. Ah well.
It's nice and cold today, I'm loving the coldweather. this spacebar thing is annoying but I don't mind...especially when they're playing Prince's Purple Rain overhead.
Oh yes, I went on the blog rounds. SLINKY, if you still on the offchance read this, for gawdssakes, give me your password.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
rant
If you see a badly pixelated version of my face appear on some poorly-made nude photo found online, it's not me. The boys at the backpackers opposite may have sold it to some online sleazebag vendor.
It all began with soap.
This is not as hot and slippery as it sounds.
What REALLY happened was, I was watching TV with my housemate, having a chat, when we heard THINGS being PELTED into our balcony. We rushed out, and we found bars of soap with the words "Sleep with Me" on the cover.
The boys were waiting with a camcorder, filmed us, and we threw them the middle finger.
Last night, I was watching TV again (I don't really watch that much TV, but I make an exception for Supernatural) and suddenly, FLASHES started bouncing off my WALLS.
Turn round, this time the guys were leaning out the window taking pictures.
So, as a public notice, waaaaaaaaaaaaay before any naked pictures start showing on the net, you now know they were fake.
***
Also, I was emailed a list of conditions of when and where I may be exempt for taking the IELTS test. For those of you not in the know, IELTS tests for your English proficiency.
PLAIN RIDICULOUS!!!!! I score in the top 3% of my year level for VCE English, and they MAKE ME TAKE AN IELTS TEST.
FOR $240.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Well, begging your pardon for my erroneous assumption that you don't have faith in your own education system.
I went on to the IELTS test site where they ENCOURAGE people to try sample tests before the date, and one of the written questions (15min) was this:-
In 150 words, please DESCRIBE (emphasis my own) the following graph. [penalisation occurs if you go over the word limit]
What FOLLOWS, is an annual report of the number of people taking public transport in the last five years. A breakdown into "Bus, train and tram" include percentages.
I LAUGHED. You don't even want me to analyse the damn graph? Just DESCRIBE????
Okay.
+ According to this graph, the number type of transport is specified on the X-Axis. The total number of people utilising each mode of transport is recorded on the Y Axis. Using the column graph, we can then glean information as to the exact proportions of the population taking public transport.
A further breakdown into the TYPES of transport and a chronological comparison by year is also reflected in the X-Axis, presumably so as to conduct a comparison between not only the overall number of people taking public transport each year, but also to help analyse whether people-flows are moving to other modes of public transport. +
*brain implodes* (for the record I took 5min)
The next question takes 45min. Do you believe that the government's recent legislature to ban smoking in all public areas counts as reducing freedom? (despite the fact that it's good in some ways?)
or something to that effect
250 words.
OH MY LORD.
then the reading test.
*keels over*
I have half a mind when they ask "personal questions" to say things like
"I have multiple personality disorder, but I'm taking medication. It's funny you know, one of them in an Oxford Arthurian literature professor named Dr. Dumbledore. Sometimes, he tells me that he's the one who bought over all those studio execs. and convinced them to film Tristan and Isolde. He's also most excited about Beowulf because it's not only one of the classics of Western literature as a whole, but also because it is set to star Angelina Jolie, whom he claims he'll turn straight for. Sometimes, I wished I could stop taking my medication so he comes to the fore, he's excellent at grandiloquent terms and would really help me ace this test."
But you were saying?????
Listening to: Bent - I Can't Believe It's Over
It all began with soap.
This is not as hot and slippery as it sounds.
What REALLY happened was, I was watching TV with my housemate, having a chat, when we heard THINGS being PELTED into our balcony. We rushed out, and we found bars of soap with the words "Sleep with Me" on the cover.
The boys were waiting with a camcorder, filmed us, and we threw them the middle finger.
Last night, I was watching TV again (I don't really watch that much TV, but I make an exception for Supernatural) and suddenly, FLASHES started bouncing off my WALLS.
Turn round, this time the guys were leaning out the window taking pictures.
So, as a public notice, waaaaaaaaaaaaay before any naked pictures start showing on the net, you now know they were fake.
***
Also, I was emailed a list of conditions of when and where I may be exempt for taking the IELTS test. For those of you not in the know, IELTS tests for your English proficiency.
PLAIN RIDICULOUS!!!!! I score in the top 3% of my year level for VCE English, and they MAKE ME TAKE AN IELTS TEST.
FOR $240.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Well, begging your pardon for my erroneous assumption that you don't have faith in your own education system.
I went on to the IELTS test site where they ENCOURAGE people to try sample tests before the date, and one of the written questions (15min) was this:-
In 150 words, please DESCRIBE (emphasis my own) the following graph. [penalisation occurs if you go over the word limit]
What FOLLOWS, is an annual report of the number of people taking public transport in the last five years. A breakdown into "Bus, train and tram" include percentages.
I LAUGHED. You don't even want me to analyse the damn graph? Just DESCRIBE????
Okay.
+ According to this graph, the number type of transport is specified on the X-Axis. The total number of people utilising each mode of transport is recorded on the Y Axis. Using the column graph, we can then glean information as to the exact proportions of the population taking public transport.
A further breakdown into the TYPES of transport and a chronological comparison by year is also reflected in the X-Axis, presumably so as to conduct a comparison between not only the overall number of people taking public transport each year, but also to help analyse whether people-flows are moving to other modes of public transport. +
*brain implodes* (for the record I took 5min)
The next question takes 45min. Do you believe that the government's recent legislature to ban smoking in all public areas counts as reducing freedom? (despite the fact that it's good in some ways?)
or something to that effect
250 words.
OH MY LORD.
then the reading test.
This section provides a sample of Part Two of the Speaking Module. There are three main parts to the IELTS Speaking Module. In Part One the candidate answers general questions about themselves, their home/family and other such personal topics. This part lasts about four-five minutes. Part Two is sampled below and in Part Three the candidate and Examiner engage in a discussion of more abstract issues and concepts which are related to the topic in Part Two.
Speaking Part Two Sample
Describe a teacher who has greatly influenced you in your education.
You should say:
where you met them;
what subject they taught;
what was special about them;
and explain why this person influenced you so much.
*keels over*
I have half a mind when they ask "personal questions" to say things like
"I have multiple personality disorder, but I'm taking medication. It's funny you know, one of them in an Oxford Arthurian literature professor named Dr. Dumbledore. Sometimes, he tells me that he's the one who bought over all those studio execs. and convinced them to film Tristan and Isolde. He's also most excited about Beowulf because it's not only one of the classics of Western literature as a whole, but also because it is set to star Angelina Jolie, whom he claims he'll turn straight for. Sometimes, I wished I could stop taking my medication so he comes to the fore, he's excellent at grandiloquent terms and would really help me ace this test."
But you were saying?????
Listening to: Bent - I Can't Believe It's Over
Sunday, February 26, 2006
my excuses!
my hard drive died, and I'm bumming at a friend's place.
went to hunter valley and had a crazy week. Will update with photos soon. (none of me of course) We worked really hard, but played just as hard. It was good. and the rooms were enormous.
It was crazy mad- including a frog that had a staring incident with me. HAHA.
In the meantime, I thought I'd tell you that I managed to burn myself ironing (yes, yes I know), blister myself making apple pie (charming) and blistered myself a second time bloody alum key turning while putting together a shelf. and I have another to put together this weekend.
I NEED A MASSAGE. oh my poor delicate hands!
Promise to update you all soon. After I wash all that laundry.
listening to: Chris Brown- Run It Up.
went to hunter valley and had a crazy week. Will update with photos soon. (none of me of course) We worked really hard, but played just as hard. It was good. and the rooms were enormous.
It was crazy mad- including a frog that had a staring incident with me. HAHA.
In the meantime, I thought I'd tell you that I managed to burn myself ironing (yes, yes I know), blister myself making apple pie (charming) and blistered myself a second time bloody alum key turning while putting together a shelf. and I have another to put together this weekend.
I NEED A MASSAGE. oh my poor delicate hands!
Promise to update you all soon. After I wash all that laundry.
listening to: Chris Brown- Run It Up.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
I decided to haul my lazy ass in for BodyJam this week, expecting the usual instructor who takes Funk to take us for BodyJam. Turns out an instructor from Richmond came down instead.
I spent the entire lesson giggling as opposed to dancing because I had to learn the QUEENEST dance ever complete with flicks, madonna moves and parting imaginary curtains before clawing in a most seductive-but-disco manner.
If you don't understand what I mean, watch an episode of Queer as Folk.
****
I'm off to Hunter Valley on work next week. Cheese for Gerri, wine for the house, and Krispy Kremes by the tonne for everyone else. Sounds good?
Listening to- Fiona Apple Criminal
I spent the entire lesson giggling as opposed to dancing because I had to learn the QUEENEST dance ever complete with flicks, madonna moves and parting imaginary curtains before clawing in a most seductive-but-disco manner.
If you don't understand what I mean, watch an episode of Queer as Folk.
****
I'm off to Hunter Valley on work next week. Cheese for Gerri, wine for the house, and Krispy Kremes by the tonne for everyone else. Sounds good?
Listening to- Fiona Apple Criminal
Saturday, February 11, 2006
in case no one gets it, this post is sarcastic
not been online because I don't have a computer. bumming and unceremoniously hijacking friend's comps while they slave over a hot stove.
2 weeks in and I've made so many boo-boos it's a wonder they haven't fired me yet.
yay me. must be my natural charm. that and my unsupassed barista kung-fu.
been cleaning like a madwoman and still receiving bites. it's odd. I'm convinced there's an insatiable evil mosquito on the loose somewhere in my office AND at home, hellbent on making sure I die of blood loss before my PR application can be rejected.
Oh to live on borrowed time and life on the edge. It's no wonder I fling myself out of planes.
AND. I'm still saving up to try and go home in May.
life is so hard.
2 weeks in and I've made so many boo-boos it's a wonder they haven't fired me yet.
yay me. must be my natural charm. that and my unsupassed barista kung-fu.
been cleaning like a madwoman and still receiving bites. it's odd. I'm convinced there's an insatiable evil mosquito on the loose somewhere in my office AND at home, hellbent on making sure I die of blood loss before my PR application can be rejected.
Oh to live on borrowed time and life on the edge. It's no wonder I fling myself out of planes.
AND. I'm still saving up to try and go home in May.
life is so hard.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Poochy Keen 2
Apart from poochyboyone getting Diesel to pose with bags to send over to bryanboy, we also had PoochNation's launch that I mentioned in the last post.
What you guys don't realise is that I spent most of my time laughing my ass off at them Poochy People because well....ok. Take a look.
Even the parents decided to get in on the action, "Hi" back to you cool dude with the ray ban sunnies and sad sad outfit.
By the time I was out to lunch, poochyboy was NOWHERE to be seen despite the fact that he claimed he'd walked around my area. (and I'd run out for lunch specifically to see if I could see him and laugh at him while pointing and giggling Asian schoolgirl teeheehee style)
He even had a brush with the law, when a security guard decided to take his name down justincase he was protesting. erm.....sure. ok. We're carrying a giant placard selling services and you say we're protesting. How much more capitalist would you like us to get??? Do we need to put in a "I had 300 calories today, that is so not sexy" statement down the bottom?
Whiffing: Diesel's farts. (because I'm a moving refugee)
P/S I've decided that the "soooo not sexy" line is my phrase of the month, like, that is so not sexy.
What you guys don't realise is that I spent most of my time laughing my ass off at them Poochy People because well....ok. Take a look.
While I was slaving away in 130% office monkey mode, dear old poochyboyone was er, trawling the streets in post-apocolyptic Melbourne with the Pooch Nation sign, and matching dog. What? Who said he was dressed to match the dog? The dog was MADE to look like him! See radioactive tongue? yeah well, we tried to make him keep his tongue where it belonged. He wouldn't listen!
(and now we know for sure, post-apocolypse, the trees will be purple and we'll all have blue-tongued lizard genes)
Of course, there were heaps of people staring at him, and sure enough soon enough, the Japanese tourists started flocking.
And we all know that when Japanese tourists start taking photos, they never stop and a queue starts forming. In further proof that China is taking over the world, the Chinese tourists started asking for photos too! Shot #8, Pose #3.
And we all know that when Japanese tourists start taking photos, they never stop and a queue starts forming. In further proof that China is taking over the world, the Chinese tourists started asking for photos too! Shot #8, Pose #3.
Even the parents decided to get in on the action, "Hi" back to you cool dude with the ray ban sunnies and sad sad outfit.By the time I was out to lunch, poochyboy was NOWHERE to be seen despite the fact that he claimed he'd walked around my area. (and I'd run out for lunch specifically to see if I could see him and laugh at him while pointing and giggling Asian schoolgirl teeheehee style)
He even had a brush with the law, when a security guard decided to take his name down justincase he was protesting. erm.....sure. ok. We're carrying a giant placard selling services and you say we're protesting. How much more capitalist would you like us to get??? Do we need to put in a "I had 300 calories today, that is so not sexy" statement down the bottom?
Whiffing: Diesel's farts. (because I'm a moving refugee)
P/S I've decided that the "soooo not sexy" line is my phrase of the month, like, that is so not sexy.
Saturday, February 04, 2006
yeeeesh
Keira Knightly has a nomination for an Oscar? WHAT?!?! For Pride and Prejudice???? Double what????
everyone: packed up my mobile by accident when I moved house so I only just read my msgs today. Sorry I couldn't make it for the dumpling party, the job offer celebration, or the steamboat session you guys.
The boys are watching The Jacket outside, but the front bit tortured me so much that I'm in here blogging instead.
everyone: packed up my mobile by accident when I moved house so I only just read my msgs today. Sorry I couldn't make it for the dumpling party, the job offer celebration, or the steamboat session you guys.
The boys are watching The Jacket outside, but the front bit tortured me so much that I'm in here blogging instead.
Poochy Keen!
and so ends my 1st 9-5 5day week in a long long time. oof. and yet it's all gone past in a blink. Well, part of that may have to do with poochnation's launch, or the fact that I was homeless and bumming at bryyin and killingculture's place.
I mean, sure, it was more like 8.30-6.30. and once it was even a 7.30-6.30, but it had it's lulls and wasn't GOGOGO all the time. AND. I've already managed to inadvertently insult the boss during a company meeting. I sure have sure footing. I feel like a frog on a lily pad. Only heavy.
and I'm sure that my job description should really read "stalker" since that's all I seem to do.
How do people working office hours manage to run errands? No wonder there's internet banking and Bpay. But when there's bills to be paid, insurance to be done, and tons of other errands to run, how does one fit it in when all the damn shops close at 5pm?? I feel like I'm missing out on some special warp time that every other working professional seems privvy to.
I think I need to apply for a credit card so I can pay for my bills online.
I've also realised how disgustingly healthy everyone is. They're all about salads and detoxes (with 1 or 2 biscuits on the side). ech. me? I'm still scoffing. Not good when I seem to be steadily ballooning.
Met the clients I seem to also have insulted (gosh I'm good), slide. let it all slide. sllliiiiiiiiide.
I'm a short little girl. I can fit into a suitcase (believe me we tried once, they zipped me up, popped me into a lift and sent me down to the ground floor) I can hide for a while.
p/s Pam! Pad! I miss you! Did you get it Pad???
Watched: Initial D. Jay Chou reminds me of my cousin Smurf.
I mean, sure, it was more like 8.30-6.30. and once it was even a 7.30-6.30, but it had it's lulls and wasn't GOGOGO all the time. AND. I've already managed to inadvertently insult the boss during a company meeting. I sure have sure footing. I feel like a frog on a lily pad. Only heavy.
and I'm sure that my job description should really read "stalker" since that's all I seem to do.
How do people working office hours manage to run errands? No wonder there's internet banking and Bpay. But when there's bills to be paid, insurance to be done, and tons of other errands to run, how does one fit it in when all the damn shops close at 5pm?? I feel like I'm missing out on some special warp time that every other working professional seems privvy to.
I think I need to apply for a credit card so I can pay for my bills online.
I've also realised how disgustingly healthy everyone is. They're all about salads and detoxes (with 1 or 2 biscuits on the side). ech. me? I'm still scoffing. Not good when I seem to be steadily ballooning.
Met the clients I seem to also have insulted (gosh I'm good), slide. let it all slide. sllliiiiiiiiide.
I'm a short little girl. I can fit into a suitcase (believe me we tried once, they zipped me up, popped me into a lift and sent me down to the ground floor) I can hide for a while.
p/s Pam! Pad! I miss you! Did you get it Pad???
Watched: Initial D. Jay Chou reminds me of my cousin Smurf.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
xin nian kuai le
(P/S PLEASE watch cottage cheese thighs trackback on PopoZao. I laughed till I nearly cried)
don't even ask me how to say that in Cantonese. Sin Nian Guoi/Guai Lay? *cue racous laughter*
hey hey. At least I know it's Gong Hei Fatt Choy for Gong Xi Fa Cai ok?
Anyway, Happy Lunar New Year to all the Chinese, Viets, Koreans and Jappies out there. (and if I've forgotten anyone, feel free to add yourself in)
***
Anyway, I'm feeling extremely pantang (superstitious) this year due to all the recent huge upheavals in my life (new job, new place, waiting for my PR etc) and it always helps to err on the side of caution. So while I'm not exactly timing flowers to bloom exactly on the 29th of January and flying geomancers over from Singapore to come take a look at my place, and in fact I'm not even investing in a rabbit's foot or a four leaf clover, I am in fact, dressed in red, and wearing new clothes.
And I'm just slightly homesick for once, seeing that the annoying Dong dong dong chiang Chinese New Year music is not making me want to blow my brains out for once. And there's NO BUAH KELUAK.
Call me mean but I'm almost happy that the cousin whose mum makes the divine buah keluak is here, suffering from buah keluak withdrawal symptoms too.
Dammit. If only I could find some here, I'd MAKE my cousin cook it, exam or no exam tomorrow!
If anything, Melbourne weather seems to be conspiring to make it as homely for me as possible, what with an entire week of 30-40+ degrees of humidity. mmmm. sweat. ECH. I've grown 4 new freckles on ONE ARM just walking from apartment to tram stop.
(and if anyone wants to pass the message on to my mum, no, I still haven't tanned and still look like a little white mouse) I BLAME THE TEOCHEW GENES. Mum, it's ALL YOUR FAULT I'M SO PALE OK?
Went out for reunion dinner with the crew from ex-work (booked 2 weeks in advance), stuffed ourselves with duck at Old Kingdom which has a very entertaining owner. (Booyah for the way he cuts our duck man. and the way he's so pantang about the way we arrange our duck) Apparently he's from East Timor but speaks very good Mandarin and Indonesian.
then hopped into Chinatown where most of the shops were already closed, but we managed to catch a last round of lion dances dancing into the various restaurants (a bit early hey?). 2 lion dances stick out vividly in my memory.
1) when I was a kid and my grandma had a lion dance troupe in the compound, I was scared shitless of the loud noises coz it really really hurt my ears, and what the heck, those lions had antlers! and their eyes! eeek. They WINKED! anyway, I think the lion-dancers kinda liked me (orand pranced my way a little, which of course made me hide almost in tears, although I was really in awe of the way they caught the red packet hanging on the second floor off a bamboo pole.
2) In a hawker centre eating my food and some Bangladeshi workers were obviously hired to "do the rounds" kowtowing to the various shrines placed there, and even to some joss sticks stuck into a cucumber. That was a little disturbing to me.
***
Anyway, Bryyin just called and we were discussing red packets and how it differs even within each dialect group, and how my parents have the SAME discussion every year.
"Married already must give angpow"
"No lah, same generation leh"
"Aiyah, Cantonese custom not the same mah"
"you cantonese so mad one. Some more must give parents"
Dad mutters something in Cantonese under his breath.
"What did you say CJ???" (yes, my dad goes by the very cool moniker of CJ- even in real life)
heh heh heh.
Speaking of which, I just realised how traditional my family was, from only recently allowing girls to ackknowledge our ancestors (gramps was afraid no boy would be left to remember our ancestors coz her 5 sons were just spawning way too many girls)
to us having to kneel down to collect our angpows, and even my mum's heirloom shared with her 3 sisters - 3 sets of custom made 3D charm bracelets in yellow gold, intricately made to include things like an actual working set of abacus less than an inch LONG and a bird in a birdcage (and I don't mean out of one piece of gold). People really don't make things like that anymore.
Must find non-creepy temple to pay my respects this year I think. Maybe I'll just go to that 100% Buddhist one on Queen St because that South Melbourne one just gives me the creeps. (or when I visit my cousin we can both go to one of the Box Hill ones)
Listening to: Teresa Teng- The Moon Represents My Heart (yue liang dai biao wo de xin) because it reminds me so much goldfishmemory's mum. HAHA!
don't even ask me how to say that in Cantonese. Sin Nian Guoi/Guai Lay? *cue racous laughter*
hey hey. At least I know it's Gong Hei Fatt Choy for Gong Xi Fa Cai ok?
Anyway, Happy Lunar New Year to all the Chinese, Viets, Koreans and Jappies out there. (and if I've forgotten anyone, feel free to add yourself in)
***
Anyway, I'm feeling extremely pantang (superstitious) this year due to all the recent huge upheavals in my life (new job, new place, waiting for my PR etc) and it always helps to err on the side of caution. So while I'm not exactly timing flowers to bloom exactly on the 29th of January and flying geomancers over from Singapore to come take a look at my place, and in fact I'm not even investing in a rabbit's foot or a four leaf clover, I am in fact, dressed in red, and wearing new clothes.
And I'm just slightly homesick for once, seeing that the annoying Dong dong dong chiang Chinese New Year music is not making me want to blow my brains out for once. And there's NO BUAH KELUAK.
Call me mean but I'm almost happy that the cousin whose mum makes the divine buah keluak is here, suffering from buah keluak withdrawal symptoms too.
Dammit. If only I could find some here, I'd MAKE my cousin cook it, exam or no exam tomorrow!
If anything, Melbourne weather seems to be conspiring to make it as homely for me as possible, what with an entire week of 30-40+ degrees of humidity. mmmm. sweat. ECH. I've grown 4 new freckles on ONE ARM just walking from apartment to tram stop.
(and if anyone wants to pass the message on to my mum, no, I still haven't tanned and still look like a little white mouse) I BLAME THE TEOCHEW GENES. Mum, it's ALL YOUR FAULT I'M SO PALE OK?
Went out for reunion dinner with the crew from ex-work (booked 2 weeks in advance), stuffed ourselves with duck at Old Kingdom which has a very entertaining owner. (Booyah for the way he cuts our duck man. and the way he's so pantang about the way we arrange our duck) Apparently he's from East Timor but speaks very good Mandarin and Indonesian.
then hopped into Chinatown where most of the shops were already closed, but we managed to catch a last round of lion dances dancing into the various restaurants (a bit early hey?). 2 lion dances stick out vividly in my memory.
1) when I was a kid and my grandma had a lion dance troupe in the compound, I was scared shitless of the loud noises coz it really really hurt my ears, and what the heck, those lions had antlers! and their eyes! eeek. They WINKED! anyway, I think the lion-dancers kinda liked me (orand pranced my way a little, which of course made me hide almost in tears, although I was really in awe of the way they caught the red packet hanging on the second floor off a bamboo pole.
2) In a hawker centre eating my food and some Bangladeshi workers were obviously hired to "do the rounds" kowtowing to the various shrines placed there, and even to some joss sticks stuck into a cucumber. That was a little disturbing to me.
***
Anyway, Bryyin just called and we were discussing red packets and how it differs even within each dialect group, and how my parents have the SAME discussion every year.
"Married already must give angpow"
"No lah, same generation leh"
"Aiyah, Cantonese custom not the same mah"
"you cantonese so mad one. Some more must give parents"
Dad mutters something in Cantonese under his breath.
"What did you say CJ???" (yes, my dad goes by the very cool moniker of CJ- even in real life)
heh heh heh.
Speaking of which, I just realised how traditional my family was, from only recently allowing girls to ackknowledge our ancestors (gramps was afraid no boy would be left to remember our ancestors coz her 5 sons were just spawning way too many girls)
to us having to kneel down to collect our angpows, and even my mum's heirloom shared with her 3 sisters - 3 sets of custom made 3D charm bracelets in yellow gold, intricately made to include things like an actual working set of abacus less than an inch LONG and a bird in a birdcage (and I don't mean out of one piece of gold). People really don't make things like that anymore.
Must find non-creepy temple to pay my respects this year I think. Maybe I'll just go to that 100% Buddhist one on Queen St because that South Melbourne one just gives me the creeps. (or when I visit my cousin we can both go to one of the Box Hill ones)
Listening to: Teresa Teng- The Moon Represents My Heart (yue liang dai biao wo de xin) because it reminds me so much goldfishmemory's mum. HAHA!
Friday, January 27, 2006
*sighs*
PopoZao baby.
If only you paid more attention to Britney's PopoZao hey?
Related: Cottage Cheese thighs
and please, watch James Lipton read PopoZao. Bloody fantastic.
If only you paid more attention to Britney's PopoZao hey?
Related: Cottage Cheese thighs
and please, watch James Lipton read PopoZao. Bloody fantastic.
for chalyz (back when I had long hair)
the other girls in the pic are photowhores with pics plastered all over friendster, but I'd still like to pretend to keep their identities secret. ;)
Besides. If anyone saw these pics and recognised my friends, they'd know where I went to high school.
P/S my right boob looks a little strange due to the angle, but fear not! My boobs may be weird, but they're not that weird.
Listening to: Theresa Teng- The Moon Represents My Heart
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
goodbye slinky minxes
no pictures atm, but everyone knows the place I work at hires a large amount of hot chicks.
We've had a group of 3 chefs from Beaumauris come and tell us they used to come up once a week just to look at the girls. In fact, we've had various groups of guys come up just to look at the girls. We've had strange people think they can get away with foreign languages amongst our multi-lingual staff, saying things like "Why doesn't she stay awhile, let's create accidents or call her back" We've had weird stalker boys waiting for us at the opposite cafes. We've heard the lamest pickup lines. ("Baby, can you light my fire?" being the most common one)
Come to think of it, some people say our boys are pretty cute. Although, I'm kinda indifferent given that I see them everyday.
So imagine all of these hot boys and girls dressed up for a cocktail partay and voila. You have our staff late-X'mas party. (make that very late)
It was quite successful as far as the party itself went- Unlimited bar tab, the toilets didn't run out of toilet paper, everyone on the dance floor, good food (mmmm.....smoked salmon and avocado, mini-bruchettas, peking duck, sushi, sausage rolls, wantons in vinegar, satay skewers...mmmmmm). Sure the DJ was a little patchy, and who the hell does a set of House house house, 80s remix, THREE RnB followed by 1 ROCK? HEY?? HEY?? HEY??!!!??? *breathes* BUT!
all in all, it was a fantastic night. Ex-staff turned up in force (we're really tight, ex staff remain hella good friends and we all regularly visit our old latte-making grounds), I managed to wrangle free food off the boss including a free sample of the new menu, and best of all, we all got to catch up.
Sure, scary GM with death ray stare was seen shimmying in a floor length gown and feathers in her hair, frightening the living daylights in a 3m radius; but we got to see our founder drunk and "dancing" and our area manager was er, very happy. Very happy indeed.
anyway, IF I can find pics, you'll see all of us dressed to the nines, including Cath in her gorgeous Chanel and Erys in that Review dress I was eyeing except I decided that a) it was too pricy and b) you need a really good bod to carry it off and Nana in herstraight out of anime character outfit. She looked so good if she did that sideways-S shape thing with her body and the peace sign, she'd be IT. Mike with her 50s look from Cactus Jam, Jules in her really hot mini-cheongsam, Cynthia and Paola in Latina hotness...There were so many gorgeous dresses out there...one of our Swedish girls came dressed in typical European style...a white minidress. oooohhhhhhh. Anyway....we'll see what I can find. Maybe I should post that up with a fashion journal look.
Listening to: Manic Star
We've had a group of 3 chefs from Beaumauris come and tell us they used to come up once a week just to look at the girls. In fact, we've had various groups of guys come up just to look at the girls. We've had strange people think they can get away with foreign languages amongst our multi-lingual staff, saying things like "Why doesn't she stay awhile, let's create accidents or call her back" We've had weird stalker boys waiting for us at the opposite cafes. We've heard the lamest pickup lines. ("Baby, can you light my fire?" being the most common one)
Come to think of it, some people say our boys are pretty cute. Although, I'm kinda indifferent given that I see them everyday.
So imagine all of these hot boys and girls dressed up for a cocktail partay and voila. You have our staff late-X'mas party. (make that very late)
It was quite successful as far as the party itself went- Unlimited bar tab, the toilets didn't run out of toilet paper, everyone on the dance floor, good food (mmmm.....smoked salmon and avocado, mini-bruchettas, peking duck, sushi, sausage rolls, wantons in vinegar, satay skewers...mmmmmm). Sure the DJ was a little patchy, and who the hell does a set of House house house, 80s remix, THREE RnB followed by 1 ROCK? HEY?? HEY?? HEY??!!!??? *breathes* BUT!
all in all, it was a fantastic night. Ex-staff turned up in force (we're really tight, ex staff remain hella good friends and we all regularly visit our old latte-making grounds), I managed to wrangle free food off the boss including a free sample of the new menu, and best of all, we all got to catch up.
Sure, scary GM with death ray stare was seen shimmying in a floor length gown and feathers in her hair, frightening the living daylights in a 3m radius; but we got to see our founder drunk and "dancing" and our area manager was er, very happy. Very happy indeed.
anyway, IF I can find pics, you'll see all of us dressed to the nines, including Cath in her gorgeous Chanel and Erys in that Review dress I was eyeing except I decided that a) it was too pricy and b) you need a really good bod to carry it off and Nana in herstraight out of anime character outfit. She looked so good if she did that sideways-S shape thing with her body and the peace sign, she'd be IT. Mike with her 50s look from Cactus Jam, Jules in her really hot mini-cheongsam, Cynthia and Paola in Latina hotness...There were so many gorgeous dresses out there...one of our Swedish girls came dressed in typical European style...a white minidress. oooohhhhhhh. Anyway....we'll see what I can find. Maybe I should post that up with a fashion journal look.
Listening to: Manic Star
Monday, January 23, 2006
They somehow managed to get buah keluak in Perth!!!!!
Must find way of getting it here, and not in bloody Rawon soup packets either. GRRRRRR. Cyanide? What cyanide? It's not like Apricots, peaches, apples and Tapioca don't kill either. Ha. Now you know. That bubble tea phase? yeah....it was all an evil conspiracy to kill us all. *psychotic evil look*
I want ayam buak keluak. Maybe I should ring the Hyatt. You think they'll tell me?
Must find way of getting it here, and not in bloody Rawon soup packets either. GRRRRRR. Cyanide? What cyanide? It's not like Apricots, peaches, apples and Tapioca don't kill either. Ha. Now you know. That bubble tea phase? yeah....it was all an evil conspiracy to kill us all. *psychotic evil look*
I want ayam buak keluak. Maybe I should ring the Hyatt. You think they'll tell me?
Sunday, January 22, 2006
heatstroke haiku
here I am bristling
reposing in workplaces
the only option
Pros of having a doc friend you can just ring up distraught:
Immediate and free consultation ON THE PHONE
Cons of having a doc friend you can just ring up distraught:
Them laughing at you when you think you have appendicitis when you're most probably just ovulating.
WHAT? my family medical history has almost anything and everything from hernias to cancers, scoliosis to sclerosis, pigmentation to er, receeding hairlines? EVERYTHING BLOODY THING. you name it, we most probably have it. So don't laugh ok.
Listening to: Conjure One - Tears From The Moon (Tiesto remix)
reposing in workplaces
the only option
Pros of having a doc friend you can just ring up distraught:
Immediate and free consultation ON THE PHONE
Cons of having a doc friend you can just ring up distraught:
Them laughing at you when you think you have appendicitis when you're most probably just ovulating.
WHAT? my family medical history has almost anything and everything from hernias to cancers, scoliosis to sclerosis, pigmentation to er, receeding hairlines? EVERYTHING BLOODY THING. you name it, we most probably have it. So don't laugh ok.
Listening to: Conjure One - Tears From The Moon (Tiesto remix)
Thursday, January 19, 2006
randomisation.
I have an attack of the rambles.
victoria's secret models
make you want to become a model: until you realise you'd have to be THAT tall, with legs THAT long and also become THAT skinny. (I reckon one or two of them were too skinny actually- but most of them were so gorgeous I think if I were a straight guy I'd implode)
and erm, it wasn't our imaginations. Apparently the "sort-of-but-not-really" Asian model we saw was Juliana Imai- part Asian, part Brazillian. and I think I found at least some of our other "models of interest" 1stly one of the too skinny ones- Michelle Alves. When you're named as "skinny" amongst a whole other list of VS models as skinny on the Who2Who site, you know you're too darned skinny.
and what the hell. I can't believe Klum has only given birth a few months ago...arghhhh!!!!
One redeeming thing about watching the entire show even though I'm almost about to pack my bags and flee to a fat farm, is that every "asian supermodel" ugly or not who's made it big really really really chinky eyes.
Yay for chinky eyes! Even Irina Panteva, the revulsion of every Singaporean and the toast of the Western world. "Dinner plate face" my dad called it - he's very imaginative that way. His other names include "Mooncakes" "Craters" "Flat Biscuits" (translated) and "Chinese Steamed Buns" (translated). He's very PC isn't he?
btw, in my search on Asian supermodels, Anna Watanabe came up and yes, she is Ken's daughter! Also came up with Charlotte Casiraghi (princess, not model) and Elvis' granddaughter- Riley (model and arguably a princess). Very nice lips both of them. and everyone knows I have a thing forJonathan Rhys Meyers, Aishwarya Rai, the entire Casiraghi clan Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie nice lips.
things to do before I leave
well. We wanted to have a knock-back back day, where we'd make fun of ourselves and customers...whenever they ordered anything...we'd just say "AND DEN???" until they got the joke, or walked away in a huff. (dude! don't tell me you don't get it)
Then there was the one where we wanted to repeat customer's garbled orders back to us.
"So that was a Sucker, a Doom, a Babushka and a Christmas Tree with Warflays and Shuffles?"
goodbye letter
like the nasty lil' heifer you always knew I was, I now take my leave
into the even more cow-ish world of advertising!
yeah.
I've tried to tell each and every one of you personally, but thought
I should tell people who aren't in Melbourne atm that no, I won't be
there to yell at you to "take drinks out faster!" "wipe the tables"
or "cover that damn banana or I'll make you eat it with the fruit
flies on it" when you come back.
aren't you all GLAD? ding dong the witch is...gone?
I'll still be lurking around Melbourne snorting at bubbly lattes and
posing with my wanker soy chai so don't you worry, you haven't seen
the last of me yet.
and if you really want your weekly witchy dose of sarcasm and dry dry
wit, (because you know, I'm so good at that sort of thing), just head
on over to the phonelist (you know, the one YOU should be looking at
when trying to find replacements- not making managers do your dirty
work for you) next to the phone in shop.
And if I don't pick up the phone, you know it's you. not me. ;)
heh heh heh
victoria's secret models
make you want to become a model: until you realise you'd have to be THAT tall, with legs THAT long and also become THAT skinny. (I reckon one or two of them were too skinny actually- but most of them were so gorgeous I think if I were a straight guy I'd implode)
and erm, it wasn't our imaginations. Apparently the "sort-of-but-not-really" Asian model we saw was Juliana Imai- part Asian, part Brazillian. and I think I found at least some of our other "models of interest" 1stly one of the too skinny ones- Michelle Alves. When you're named as "skinny" amongst a whole other list of VS models as skinny on the Who2Who site, you know you're too darned skinny.
and what the hell. I can't believe Klum has only given birth a few months ago...arghhhh!!!!
One redeeming thing about watching the entire show even though I'm almost about to pack my bags and flee to a fat farm, is that every "asian supermodel" ugly or not who's made it big really really really chinky eyes.
Yay for chinky eyes! Even Irina Panteva, the revulsion of every Singaporean and the toast of the Western world. "Dinner plate face" my dad called it - he's very imaginative that way. His other names include "Mooncakes" "Craters" "Flat Biscuits" (translated) and "Chinese Steamed Buns" (translated). He's very PC isn't he?
btw, in my search on Asian supermodels, Anna Watanabe came up and yes, she is Ken's daughter! Also came up with Charlotte Casiraghi (princess, not model) and Elvis' granddaughter- Riley (model and arguably a princess). Very nice lips both of them. and everyone knows I have a thing for
things to do before I leave
well. We wanted to have a knock-back back day, where we'd make fun of ourselves and customers...whenever they ordered anything...we'd just say "AND DEN???" until they got the joke, or walked away in a huff. (dude! don't tell me you don't get it)
Then there was the one where we wanted to repeat customer's garbled orders back to us.
"So that was a Sucker, a Doom, a Babushka and a Christmas Tree with Warflays and Shuffles?"
goodbye letter
like the nasty lil' heifer you always knew I was, I now take my leave
into the even more cow-ish world of advertising!
yeah.
I've tried to tell each and every one of you personally, but thought
I should tell people who aren't in Melbourne atm that no, I won't be
there to yell at you to "take drinks out faster!" "wipe the tables"
or "cover that damn banana or I'll make you eat it with the fruit
flies on it" when you come back.
aren't you all GLAD? ding dong the witch is...gone?
I'll still be lurking around Melbourne snorting at bubbly lattes and
posing with my wanker soy chai so don't you worry, you haven't seen
the last of me yet.
and if you really want your weekly witchy dose of sarcasm and dry dry
wit, (because you know, I'm so good at that sort of thing), just head
on over to the phonelist (you know, the one YOU should be looking at
when trying to find replacements- not making managers do your dirty
work for you) next to the phone in shop.
And if I don't pick up the phone, you know it's you. not me. ;)
heh heh heh
Saturday, January 14, 2006
words
See I'm all about them words
Over numbers, unencumbered numbered words
Hundreds of pages, pages, pages forwards
More words then I had ever heard and I feel so alive
-jason mraz
You know your brain is chilling out somewhere in the backseat when you rely on fluffy pop songs to encapsulate your life. (and is so small you can't really see it in the rearview mirror)
so.
I just realised that after my initial culture shock of aussie-isms those many years ago (see you later? But I'm never going to see you again!) I'm now going through cultural retraining with Singaporeans.
Just like how "see you later" used to piss the shit out of me when I first arrived, Singaporean usage of everyday English words drives me absolutely bananas- my pet hate being "Correct" (occasionally pronounced "corright")
Technically, the word correct in Singaporean usage makes perfect sense. It means that it is not a fallacy. Zero faults.
So when you make some random remark when you bump into them in the streets and say "hey weren't you in my class in year 1902?" instead of saying somethings friendly, they'll say something like
"Correct. You're XYZ's friend right???"
or when you're having a perfectly benign conversation, and then someone brings up say...some home truth like the earth is round. or Say...you were discussing U2's upcoming concert and said "Rumour has it Bono is not going to wear his sunnies" or something like that, they'd say "Yah, correct! and then blah blah blah"
ARGHHH. FRUSTRATION!!!!!
I don't care if I'm correct or not about the rumour, and if I'm telling people the earth is almost certainly round, I don't need some schoolmarm to jump in and say "Yah, correct" not to mention they then hijack the conversation after making "correct" statements. I feel so patronised!
I mean, they were SO MANY OTHER THINGS to say. if they'd cut out the dammable "yah correct" I'd be so much more willing for them to open their mouths without a baseball bat in my hand. I mean imagine...
"rumour has it Bono blah blah"
"yeah! I heard that too! blah blah blah"
At this stage, I DON'T GIVE A RAT'S ASS what you change the subject to. The price of eggs even! It's so much less confronting!
ok. how about
"rumour has it Bono blah blah blah"
"hmmm, but then I heard...."
The underlying problem seems to be that any statement I make is turned into a validating one. Everything I say has to be sanctioned.
"The tram inspectors sometimes dress in plainclothes"
"Yeah correct!"
I DON'T NEED YOUR VALIDATION!!!! in fact I feel patronised!!!!
and it's such a reflection of the culture. everything sanctioned, the herd mentality, the usage bearing a strong resemblance to a classroom in a country where academic grades reign supreme.
In fact, I've noticed it's a more "guy word" to use. Not many girls seem to use it, and there it is...reflection of a chauvanistic society on top of it all.
I once read a research article about chauvanistic values in Asian countries..and how it differs from traditional western chauvanism per se, and how it differs yet again from Mediterranian cultures and Middle eastern ones, and religious ones are different yet again.
What struck me was the country by country breakdown.
In the survey, Singapore was the ONLY COUNTRY in Asia where the men expect the women not only to cook and clean, but to also hold down a full time job.
we are reflection of our times, our cultures. and sometimes, the usage of the word "correct" just plain freaks me out, because it means so much more.
Listening to: 80s pop shmaltz
Over numbers, unencumbered numbered words
Hundreds of pages, pages, pages forwards
More words then I had ever heard and I feel so alive
-jason mraz
You know your brain is chilling out somewhere in the backseat when you rely on fluffy pop songs to encapsulate your life. (and is so small you can't really see it in the rearview mirror)
so.
I just realised that after my initial culture shock of aussie-isms those many years ago (see you later? But I'm never going to see you again!) I'm now going through cultural retraining with Singaporeans.
Just like how "see you later" used to piss the shit out of me when I first arrived, Singaporean usage of everyday English words drives me absolutely bananas- my pet hate being "Correct" (occasionally pronounced "corright")
Technically, the word correct in Singaporean usage makes perfect sense. It means that it is not a fallacy. Zero faults.
So when you make some random remark when you bump into them in the streets and say "hey weren't you in my class in year 1902?" instead of saying somethings friendly, they'll say something like
"Correct. You're XYZ's friend right???"
or when you're having a perfectly benign conversation, and then someone brings up say...some home truth like the earth is round. or Say...you were discussing U2's upcoming concert and said "Rumour has it Bono is not going to wear his sunnies" or something like that, they'd say "Yah, correct! and then blah blah blah"
ARGHHH. FRUSTRATION!!!!!
I don't care if I'm correct or not about the rumour, and if I'm telling people the earth is almost certainly round, I don't need some schoolmarm to jump in and say "Yah, correct" not to mention they then hijack the conversation after making "correct" statements. I feel so patronised!
I mean, they were SO MANY OTHER THINGS to say. if they'd cut out the dammable "yah correct" I'd be so much more willing for them to open their mouths without a baseball bat in my hand. I mean imagine...
"rumour has it Bono blah blah"
"yeah! I heard that too! blah blah blah"
At this stage, I DON'T GIVE A RAT'S ASS what you change the subject to. The price of eggs even! It's so much less confronting!
ok. how about
"rumour has it Bono blah blah blah"
"hmmm, but then I heard...."
The underlying problem seems to be that any statement I make is turned into a validating one. Everything I say has to be sanctioned.
"The tram inspectors sometimes dress in plainclothes"
"Yeah correct!"
I DON'T NEED YOUR VALIDATION!!!! in fact I feel patronised!!!!
and it's such a reflection of the culture. everything sanctioned, the herd mentality, the usage bearing a strong resemblance to a classroom in a country where academic grades reign supreme.
In fact, I've noticed it's a more "guy word" to use. Not many girls seem to use it, and there it is...reflection of a chauvanistic society on top of it all.
I once read a research article about chauvanistic values in Asian countries..and how it differs from traditional western chauvanism per se, and how it differs yet again from Mediterranian cultures and Middle eastern ones, and religious ones are different yet again.
What struck me was the country by country breakdown.
In the survey, Singapore was the ONLY COUNTRY in Asia where the men expect the women not only to cook and clean, but to also hold down a full time job.
we are reflection of our times, our cultures. and sometimes, the usage of the word "correct" just plain freaks me out, because it means so much more.
Listening to: 80s pop shmaltz
Friday, January 06, 2006
blatant attack against self-help books
here's a fantastic way of pushing your boyfriend into cheating-
turn yourself into a paranoid bitch on top of everything else!
turn yourself into a paranoid bitch on top of everything else!
oh yes. The 100% absolutely predictable things men do when they cheat.
I was happily minding my own business (walking to the cookery section) when the pop art cover caught my eye. Lo behold! It was in the Top 10 Self Help Bestseller List! I'll admit to having a huge bias against self help* although the occassional one will get through my defences and I'll actually sit down and read it**, and the very occasional one I will actually like***.
Anyway.
I was sucked in by the cover, until I read the blurb. and then I read some of the telltale signs as listed in the contents page. "He shakes his head disapprovingly at other men who philander"
WHHHHAAAAAAATTTTTTTT???!!!!?????
and if he weren't cheating he'd nod his head approvingly? I mean, that's like saying only lactose intolerant people are against milk products in their diet when really, so are the vegans and the yuppie health freaks. (that wasn't meant to be serious)
I'm not saying ALL men are going to shake their heads disapprovingly when they hear of such a situation when in the proximity of their girlfriends, but I'd bet good money that a sizeable amount would (and the few stupid ones who didn't would soon realise that they were meant to).
I then got sucked into "Toxic People" because it genuinely interested me, which I liked (if I were Toxic to anyone, it'd be because I was an Emotional Refridgerator) and yes, one man's friend is another man's toxic person- one whole chapter spelling it out to people with an IQ of 5. until I spied the title "Rules II" (what! You mean it SPAWNED??!!??)
le sigh.
I moved on to my rightful shelf (cookery) before walking out...and spying....a numerology book. The meaning of my life in numbers! oooohhhhhh. the number 11 keeps recurring in my birthdate...so I'm an idealistic nut. oh the joys of sharing a birthday with Benito Mussollini and having 2 "golden couple" marriages fail when the vows were made on my birthday (Princess Diana and Prince Charles, Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston) I guess it's all coming up roses in regards to my love life hey?
Listening to: Shirley Bassey- Where Do I Begin [Hotel Flores Vol. 3] (friggin fantastic- THANKS PAM!)
*something to do with the fact my father tried to force me to read How To Win Friends And Influence People at somewhere between the ages of 7 and 9, and my mum trying to get me to read 7 Habits of Highly Effective People when I was....11? It didn't help that the whole Chicken Soup for The Soul rage was all abuzz. and no my parents weren't being as delusional as you think they were, I was a freak of a child, and I'd read LOTR and Shakespeare by 9, and I was well into their encyclopedias by the time I was 11...I think I was so bored once I started reading the dictionary...but stopped at the letter A because some of those words were just plain...useless. If I had a child like me, I'd be frightened. My parents were cool about it and even went on to buy me things like 'The Unabridged Version of the Grimm Brothers Fairy Tales' (very traumatising, really should have a PG rating) and Bram Stroker's Dracula...and my dad even introduced me to the now infamous Holy Blood, Holy Grail by the time I was 9 or 10. It was astounding.
** my parents gave me The Rules at 14. I threw the book into the trash. They were appalled. So was I. [to be fair, I don't think they knew what was in it]
*** like Rich Dad Poor Dad, and Who Moved My Cheese?
I was happily minding my own business (walking to the cookery section) when the pop art cover caught my eye. Lo behold! It was in the Top 10 Self Help Bestseller List! I'll admit to having a huge bias against self help* although the occassional one will get through my defences and I'll actually sit down and read it**, and the very occasional one I will actually like***.
Anyway.
I was sucked in by the cover, until I read the blurb. and then I read some of the telltale signs as listed in the contents page. "He shakes his head disapprovingly at other men who philander"
WHHHHAAAAAAATTTTTTTT???!!!!?????
and if he weren't cheating he'd nod his head approvingly? I mean, that's like saying only lactose intolerant people are against milk products in their diet when really, so are the vegans and the yuppie health freaks. (that wasn't meant to be serious)
I'm not saying ALL men are going to shake their heads disapprovingly when they hear of such a situation when in the proximity of their girlfriends, but I'd bet good money that a sizeable amount would (and the few stupid ones who didn't would soon realise that they were meant to).
I then got sucked into "Toxic People" because it genuinely interested me, which I liked (if I were Toxic to anyone, it'd be because I was an Emotional Refridgerator) and yes, one man's friend is another man's toxic person- one whole chapter spelling it out to people with an IQ of 5. until I spied the title "Rules II" (what! You mean it SPAWNED??!!??)
le sigh.
I moved on to my rightful shelf (cookery) before walking out...and spying....a numerology book. The meaning of my life in numbers! oooohhhhhh. the number 11 keeps recurring in my birthdate...so I'm an idealistic nut. oh the joys of sharing a birthday with Benito Mussollini and having 2 "golden couple" marriages fail when the vows were made on my birthday (Princess Diana and Prince Charles, Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston) I guess it's all coming up roses in regards to my love life hey?
Listening to: Shirley Bassey- Where Do I Begin [Hotel Flores Vol. 3] (friggin fantastic- THANKS PAM!)
*something to do with the fact my father tried to force me to read How To Win Friends And Influence People at somewhere between the ages of 7 and 9, and my mum trying to get me to read 7 Habits of Highly Effective People when I was....11? It didn't help that the whole Chicken Soup for The Soul rage was all abuzz. and no my parents weren't being as delusional as you think they were, I was a freak of a child, and I'd read LOTR and Shakespeare by 9, and I was well into their encyclopedias by the time I was 11...I think I was so bored once I started reading the dictionary...but stopped at the letter A because some of those words were just plain...useless. If I had a child like me, I'd be frightened. My parents were cool about it and even went on to buy me things like 'The Unabridged Version of the Grimm Brothers Fairy Tales' (very traumatising, really should have a PG rating) and Bram Stroker's Dracula...and my dad even introduced me to the now infamous Holy Blood, Holy Grail by the time I was 9 or 10. It was astounding.
** my parents gave me The Rules at 14. I threw the book into the trash. They were appalled. So was I. [to be fair, I don't think they knew what was in it]
*** like Rich Dad Poor Dad, and Who Moved My Cheese?
Monday, January 02, 2006
baby got back
someone finally managed to explain how rap boys keep their pants up. Talent. it takes talent. I mean, what if you have a big butt??? isn't it at an angle so that if you evened it out it really would just...quite literally "pool at your feet" to quote some dodgy Mills and Boon novel I was forced to read way back in Year 10?
The mind boggles.
The mind boggles.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
happy new year
Jeebus. HOW HOT CAN IT GET??!!!??? for most of yesterday it felt like I was in direct crossfire between an open oven door and a super strength hairdryer. SHRIVELLED LIKE A RAISIN!!!!
everyone turned up at work literally panting, feeling for all the world like dozy blowflies, falling in a heap the moment they reached the air conditioned coolness of work where our poor air conditioner was working overtime, battling against the elements that even our double glazed windows could not keep out. I half expected tumbleweed to go rolling past (at very high speeds due to the crazy winds) outside the deserted courtyard. (deserted, desert-ed...a haha! the heat has gotten to my brains!)
Apparently we hit 42.9 over here (that's 109.2 Farenheit for my US pals) MADNESS! It wouldn't be so bad if the winds weren't so strong, but as it was, we were buffeted about by northely winds direct from the red centre which honestly is NOT FUN.
I really don't know how those Alice people cope with it almost every day of the year (and coping with freezing cold nights on top of it). No wonder they dig underground burrows. I got burnt despite SPF 30 sunscreen, just standing at the tram stop waiting for a tram!!!!
After work was no better, the temperature wasn't even what you could call "balmy" - which insinuates humidity, and while warm, does not connote uncomfortable. This was 39 degrees at 8pm, 3 of us managers piled into the storeroom doing stocktake...worrying that our grand countdown was going to be held in some creepy storeroom that looked like a Windows 3.1 Screensaver. (the one with the walls)
I spent midnight watching harry potter pt2 (34 degrees) and at 3am it was still 32. ARGHHHHH.
That said, I had a great new year, finally choosing the new year without the view because a) it was closest to work b) I felt closest to them in terms of friendship since I see them the most often. [my other two options were alumbra, right on the waterfront with spectacular fireworks views and west melbourne (thanks pris!) for more great fireworks views]
I was really happy with the choice, given that I am now proud to say that I've watched all four Harry Potter movies! gosh I am so behind the times. But that whomping willow. Man it's an evil tree! Watching 3 movies consecutively makes you realise that the willow is a violent, violent tree. And that Buckbeak is not as scary as I imagined him to be...in fact he's a really grand creature! I always imagined him to be really quite scary. Incredible job the animators did, much better than Narnia if I say so myself, and each movie's production quality just got better, and better.
and Professor Lupin....ha. I love his musical tastes. I want! And yeah, once Hermione plucked her eyebrows and de-frizzed her hair, she looked really good! The wonders just a little grooming can do.
oh oh. I HAVE BEEF WITH THE PATRONUS CHARM! I never imagined the Patronus as something that could only be seen from the other end of the wand! And I was *so sure* that you didn't need to keep holding the wand while you let it run free!
I mean....okay. If you read the book, you'll see that during Harry's OWLS he managed to make his Patronus gallop across the room in a circle before disappearing, and that even Hermione's Patronus was half a Patronus when she had her 1st try. What I'd always imagined was that a wisp would come out at the edge of your wand, and gradually build into a mist that took the form of your Patronus hence enabling "half-Patronuses/Patroni" i.e. say the front half looks like a patronus and the remainder that's still coming from/attached and gradually detaching itself but is still in mist. HUH.
but I guess the producer must have thought that the best look was a giant concave wall springing from a wand so that it looks like a magic force field, which I suppose is the function of the Patronus. Hmmm. Hmmm. Hmmm.
Ah well, brilliant SFX, each better than the last, and excellent cinematography. So I'm most definitely not complaining.
*dopey grin*
everyone turned up at work literally panting, feeling for all the world like dozy blowflies, falling in a heap the moment they reached the air conditioned coolness of work where our poor air conditioner was working overtime, battling against the elements that even our double glazed windows could not keep out. I half expected tumbleweed to go rolling past (at very high speeds due to the crazy winds) outside the deserted courtyard. (deserted, desert-ed...a haha! the heat has gotten to my brains!)
Apparently we hit 42.9 over here (that's 109.2 Farenheit for my US pals) MADNESS! It wouldn't be so bad if the winds weren't so strong, but as it was, we were buffeted about by northely winds direct from the red centre which honestly is NOT FUN.
I really don't know how those Alice people cope with it almost every day of the year (and coping with freezing cold nights on top of it). No wonder they dig underground burrows. I got burnt despite SPF 30 sunscreen, just standing at the tram stop waiting for a tram!!!!
After work was no better, the temperature wasn't even what you could call "balmy" - which insinuates humidity, and while warm, does not connote uncomfortable. This was 39 degrees at 8pm, 3 of us managers piled into the storeroom doing stocktake...worrying that our grand countdown was going to be held in some creepy storeroom that looked like a Windows 3.1 Screensaver. (the one with the walls)
I spent midnight watching harry potter pt2 (34 degrees) and at 3am it was still 32. ARGHHHHH.
That said, I had a great new year, finally choosing the new year without the view because a) it was closest to work b) I felt closest to them in terms of friendship since I see them the most often. [my other two options were alumbra, right on the waterfront with spectacular fireworks views and west melbourne (thanks pris!) for more great fireworks views]
I was really happy with the choice, given that I am now proud to say that I've watched all four Harry Potter movies! gosh I am so behind the times. But that whomping willow. Man it's an evil tree! Watching 3 movies consecutively makes you realise that the willow is a violent, violent tree. And that Buckbeak is not as scary as I imagined him to be...in fact he's a really grand creature! I always imagined him to be really quite scary. Incredible job the animators did, much better than Narnia if I say so myself, and each movie's production quality just got better, and better.
and Professor Lupin....ha. I love his musical tastes. I want! And yeah, once Hermione plucked her eyebrows and de-frizzed her hair, she looked really good! The wonders just a little grooming can do.
oh oh. I HAVE BEEF WITH THE PATRONUS CHARM! I never imagined the Patronus as something that could only be seen from the other end of the wand! And I was *so sure* that you didn't need to keep holding the wand while you let it run free!
I mean....okay. If you read the book, you'll see that during Harry's OWLS he managed to make his Patronus gallop across the room in a circle before disappearing, and that even Hermione's Patronus was half a Patronus when she had her 1st try. What I'd always imagined was that a wisp would come out at the edge of your wand, and gradually build into a mist that took the form of your Patronus hence enabling "half-Patronuses/Patroni" i.e. say the front half looks like a patronus and the remainder that's still coming from/attached and gradually detaching itself but is still in mist. HUH.
but I guess the producer must have thought that the best look was a giant concave wall springing from a wand so that it looks like a magic force field, which I suppose is the function of the Patronus. Hmmm. Hmmm. Hmmm.
Ah well, brilliant SFX, each better than the last, and excellent cinematography. So I'm most definitely not complaining.
*dopey grin*
****
AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA. First, there was the santa mailbox in city square, and now I find that even the air traffic controllers and Australia's version of NASA are in on this
http://www.airservices.gov.au/santa05/default.htm
http://www.cdscc.nasa.gov/Features/pg_santa2005.html
although I have to say he does get much better treatment in Canada where not only do planes STAY out of his flight path, he gets escorted by fighter jets! (poor reindeer, they must be deaf)
http://www.noradsanta.org/en/how_we_do_it.php
and for more HAHAHAs
The oldest noodles have been found! The Chinese invented it and then spread it along!
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