Brood Queen

25 june 2008


Another week gone. Just like that.

And my hair is turning white. For sure.

Sigh.

I miss the days when I could just step into the office and do my own thing, and not have to bother or worry about anyone else - much less 18-minus-4 other anyone elses.

This mother-henning business.... is demanding. (Not to mention also, when the other hen expects TLC too. Wah lan eh. How many wings, I mean, hands do you think I have - especially when I have to ass-warm her forgotten nest as well. Nabeh lor really, sometimes.)


"Just like you."


Oh?

Oh.... dear....

You are - untouchable.




Elmo turns 6

18 june 2008







Watching the screws drop one by one

17 june 2008


A co-worker was a little concerned after reading my online status and hoped that I was still holding it together.

I kindly informed him that I was not referring to MY screws.

I added besides, that mine had all fallen out a long time ago.


* * * * * * * * * *


I heard the loud, and unmistakable, splash of liquid spilled.

"AIYAAA!!!"

Uh oh....

"Aiya! Aiya! Aiya!"

Yes, aiya, tell me about it. Shake head. Sigh....

And I jumped out of my chair, trotted over to the front office where the deer in headlights - unfortunately, an increasingly frequent occurrence - stood, going on like a broken record, while ineffectually dabbing at the spillage. The receptionist's large metal mug was emptied of its contents, and a puddle of coffee was spreading across the table. There was also some splash damage on a small stack of documents, the chair and carpetted floor.

I went to the pantry, grabbed a couple of table cloths as well as the tea lady to help with the clean-up. Meanwhile, the broken record was still tripping on the same track. Sigh. I got her to go to the washroom to clean herself up instead.

Methinks it's not just the screws which have left the building.




Dying craft

16 june 2008


"Copy editors...... untangle twisted prose. They are surgeons, removing growths of error and irrelevance; they are minimalist chefs, straining fat. Their goal is to make sure that the day’s work of a newspaper staff becomes an object of lasting beauty and excellence once it hits the presses."

~ In a Changing World of News, an Elegy for Copy Editors




Missing pieces

15 june 2008


I was really looking forward to Yonaguni's mysterious underwater stone structures in Missing. And well, there were several underwater scenes, but of the structures, it was just that one top view of the main monument. So that was a little disappointing. Strong currents during filming I suppose.

And then, there was the plot twist. It was revealed that the female lead had actually hallucinated most of the events. What a cop-out, and a tired one at that. It was also how it went with the Thai horror flick Body #19, where most of the story was played out by the killer's guilty conscience (though in Missing, the killing was an unfortunate accident).

Other than all that, I actually enjoyed the movie.

And oh, Forbidden Kingdom was a pain to watch - think visual-aural disconnect; and some lines just don't work in English. They just don't. And another thing, did Jet Li suck helium everytime it was his turn to speak? Aiyooo....




And I took the road much farther

11 june 2008


Maintenance night.

And it was drinks with The Guild again. This time, all the way (for me) to Scruffy at East Coast. I didn't mind the location all that much since I hang out at the beach every other weekend anyway, and it's nice once in a while to just 'get away' from town, where everyone else is.

And sometimes, you just have to travel a little farther, brave a few mossies, get rained on a little (there are worse things than being rained on, trust me), and not let these little 'inconveniences' in life hold you back from learning - or for some of us, remembering again - to live a little more. And oh yes, batting your eyes a little more as well wouldn't hurt either.

Or maybe you just need a really, really big enema to loosen things up a little. Right, kor?


* * * * * * * * * *


Talking about enemas, sometime last week, over dinner somewhere with several someones, she related how she had found many, many tubes of KY jelly in a hospital call room.

As everyone snickered knowingly, he offered that the guy was surely not doing it the 'right' way if he needed that much help.

"Or it was a very, very big broomstick. Heh. Heh. Heh."

Oh alrightttt.... I shall just keep my perverse thoughts to myself next time.


* * * * * * * * * *


And while we're still in the gutters, cough, I was relating, on another occasion, how, at a working lunch, the serving staff had offered the choice of several tables, depending on whether we wanted to sit under the air-conditioning, it being a hot day afterall.

And because it was hot and all, I was feeling a little sluggish, hungry and sleepy, and I turned to The Master (the one with the ADD) and enquired, in as few words as my hypoglycemic state could muster:

"Are you hot?"

Uh huh.

Fortunately, no one died in that encounter. Because The Master (1) understood my question in the 'right' context, albeit after a slight pause, since this was a working lunch afterall; or (2) was feeling a little sluggish, hungry and sleepy too; or (3) in all likelihood, had his mind in another galaxy far, far away - AGAIN.

I decided on a table, incidentally, away from the AC.

The Stapler is of the opinion that some people function in singular discoursal contexts most of the time, while other people (Gutter Queens like me AND many others but of course - don't pretend!) function on a few levels simultaneously.


* * * * * * * * * *


"Love.... isn't this just like old times?" Aloud. Wistful.

It's strange, really, to be remembered from so many years ago - when I don't have any recollection of all those times mentioned. (Ok, maybe if I dug really deep into my musty decade-old mental recesses.) That, and I was also rather 'different' back then. Shrug.

And what of those "old times"? Times that I do remember - but of another face, and another life, that no longer are....

So tell me, why do YOU remember these things?




Couch potato

09 june 2008


With my regular TV diet - CSI; Desperate Housewives; Heroes (Milooooooo); Lost (a lost cause after Season 2, in my opinion, but which I'm still tenaciously hanging on to because I just HAVE to know how it's going to end); Supernatural (ditto); Cashmere Mafia; and New Amsterdam (someone please just kill the show - or me - I've never seen less chemistry between the male lead and his object of dis-affection) - on season break, I finally got to working on LA Ink (I want Kim to do my skin!); Bionic Woman, which I thought was not too bad and the leads had way more chemistry, but I understand that the show's been killed. Awww. Bones has been pretty good so far and has its funny moments, so I'm going to stick with it.

Not so funny was Funny Games, which, perv as I am, actually found rather disturbing. Something about how Naomi Watts and family did not stand a chance, at all, and the whole movie was just going through the motions of a foregone conclusion. It just seemed so pointless.

Maybe I'm just getting old....

Which probably also explains how today's lunch of fishball soup and a few miserly pieces of vegetables could give me heartburn. Yeah, like WTF too.

Waiting now for Battlestar Galactica.


Unspoken


He followed the reach of her bare arm across the table - her tan skin was the colour of terracotta, a perpetual blush at the memory of the sun's touch.

And he wondered what it would be like to touch it for himself.




Obsessions

01 june 2008


Kelly Rowland's Work. And it's gotta be Freemasons' insanely infectious Arabic mix.


* * * * * * * * * *


I'm most gratified to learn, according to someone's Vietnamese tutor, that Vietnamese girls actually have to spend a lot on their hair for it to look the way it does. And I thought it was just the weather and something in the water. Meanwhile, there's always a more natural approach - boiled dried orange skins, here I come!