Charming. In a wicked way.

I like this and this. And, THIS is nice too ;-) but methinks more "princess" sans "warrior".


Instructor: "How do you know the BC fits you?"
He: "If you look good in the mirror lah. Heh. Heh."

Laugh. That was really quite funny. And really quite vain. And rather gay alternative. Of course, it could be that he was just being his usual funny self, which did make the three hours more bearable especially after everyone had had a long day at work and there was still a couple more work days to go for the week. Then again, for a few seconds after he made that remark, I could visualise all 1.8m (or slightly taller since he was hunching) of him posing and admiring himself in front of a full-length mirror. Snicker. And then, there were those *ahem* not-too-big-and-not-too-small but very nice biceps, albeit under a not-too-tight polo shirt (which is a good thing because tight shirts can cause breathing difficulties - mine), too pretty cheekbones and lips, and general attention to personal grooming.

Actually, I really should be studying for the class tomorrow and stop speculating whether people are gay leading alternative lifestyles. And I sure hope he has a more exciting life than I do (and that includes anyone who is still reading every word of this pointless babble) - like shopping for more things that he would look good in - and does not spend his free time surfing the web to read about other people's lives. (And himself! Heh. Heh. Heh.)

Don't mind me. I have just been feeling a little mean lately.

The deep end

The Rescue Course did not work out - I was the only sign-up! The school suggested working on my knowledge first, and got me to join the current MSD trainees. So, this weekend and the next two weeks would be spent studying (wah...) a 291-page textbook from front to back (...lau), and attending several three-hour night classes. Pant. Looks like the leisure dive over the long weekend would have to be changed to my open water training after all.

Anyway, why is it that they all come from the same hospital? Third one already. Why like that one?


"Your comment submission failed for the following reasons: Your comment was denied for questionable content."

What?!! What is so questionable about "Heh. Heh. Heh. That was rather funny :-)" to express my appreciation of a rather funny story of a daily routine? Oh wait... I see... must be one of those "smart" comment engines. Sorry, DW, but it appears that it does not think there was anything "funny" about your shaving accident. Methinks you need to subscribe to a new commenting service that is less uptight.

Boon of Women; Bane of Men.

Body Shop Warehouse SALE: 28 - 30 October, 9am - 7pm, Winsland House II #02-01.
L'oreal Warehouse SALE: 28 - 29 October, 9am - 8pm, Winsland House I, #B1-02.

Guess who took Thursday morning off? :-D

I, Happy.

Just discovered that I have lost 2kg in less than two weeks. My guess: Last week's daily diarrhoea in the mornings (intended effect of the Chinese herbs that I spent an hour every night boiling to drink before bedtime - to flush out the toxins and regulate the blood circulation; not to lose weight) and Hot Yoga. W.O.W. I am impressed.

And I love my $23 turtleneck :-)

A picture speaks a thousand words

"I'd been reading you on and off for some time, not knowing who you were, and now i feel like some sicko voyeur of sorts."

That's alright, dear. You ain't the only sick puppy on my tracker. Heh. Heh. Heh.

Yet another skeleton unearthed from the MUD. Heh. Or rather, she found me, but only realised recently who I am because of the photo.

Cognitive dissonance

I rarely ask personal favours from friends and people I like, much less people I do not like. So, I find it rather amusing that people who do not like me can ask me for personal favours. Of course, being the nice person that I really am, I would usually oblige. So, I am finding it a little hard to understand why people who do not like me, but like to ask me for personal favours, still do not like me while they continue to ask me for personal favours, especially when they know that I know they do not like me, and yet, continue to oblige their little personal requests.

I guess that is why when people who do not like me ask me for personal favours, it always comes with a small gift.

What am I?

What kind of blogger are you? You are a Snarky Blogger! You've got a razor sharp wit that bloggers are secretly scared of. And that's why they read your posts as often as they can!

Raise eyebrow.

[First seen at Aberwyn.]


Hello world.


"Because, the dead do not cease to exist. They live on, in the memories of the living."

Moving pictures

Spirited Away was one of those few films (the other was Labyrinth) that I really wanted to watch but took me forever to get hold of. It was worth the wait - a spellbindingly beautiful (and strange) tale so rich in images and imageries that they often "spoke" for themselves, and words would only have broken the spell.

Man and Boy

"How do you manage to carry on after losing Dad? I mean, you were with him all your life. I can't imagine what it must be like to try to fill a gap that big."

"Well, you don't get over it, of course. You can never get over it. I miss him. I'm lonely. Sometimes, I'm frightened. And I still have to sleep with the light on... But you have to learn to let go," my mother said. "That's part of it, isn't it?"

"Part of what?"

"Part of what it means to love someone. To really love someone. If you love someone then you don't just see them as an extension of yourself. You don't just love them for what's in it for you... Love means knowing when to let go," she told me.

~ Tony Parsons

And then Harry Silver gave up the fight for custody of his son.

What am I?

White Dragon

Which dragon resides in your soul:
You are a white dragon, pure and noble, you would help humans if they desperately need you. You are kind and wise with a heart of gold.

I have not had a tan for so long - until the past year - that I sometimes forget. This afternoon, it took me a while to catch on when someone I was talking to about holidays, asked me about water sports.


What is pink, beige, brown and green, and all 1300ml of it is now sitting in the freezer?

Bravissimo gelato - Strawberry, Tiramisu, Double Chocolate and Chocolate Mint :-D


Hmmm. I'm actually sick - like, properly sick. After two years of always almost falling sick but never quite making it, while people around me are dropping like flies, I'm finding this a rather novel experience.

Fluid dynamics

Simply put, the heavier you are, the more weights you need for buoyancy (something about displacement).

Before Manado, I always went down with 4kg weights (to help with the initial descent, and staying down during the 5m safety stops at the end of each dive) even though the DMs thought 3kg would do. They were right, of course. In fact, 2kg worked very well too, even at the safety stops with a half-empty tank, which used to make hovering at 5m almost impossible without resorting to a series of Cirque Tak Glam (Circus of the Unglamorous) routines - think arms and legs flailing in all directions in the calmness of blue space. On second thought, don't.

The thing is this - the lesser weights worked in spite of my recent 3kg weight gain. Shrug. I think it has something to do with my exhalations being disproportionately longer than the inhalations.

The Lilliputian Queen

I had called and asked for The Knight - who, I was told, did not have a PA who I could speak with about an invitation. (I guess not all men of stature expect to be waited upon - even men at the top.) However, I could speak with Mrs T__'s PA, who put me on hold soon after I was put through, because "You wait, ok?! Mrs T__ is calling for me! You wait, ok?!"

Mrs T__ who?

Well, Mrs T__ must surely be someone of stature too. Because:

[1] Throughout the conversations with the Receptionist and PA, Mrs T__ was addressed simply by her last name, and there was the assumption that I knew who Mrs T__ was, though her appointment was never once mentioned. (Incidentally, I know who the woman is - but that is beside the point - and it appears she is still holding up the fort very, very well.)

[2] The hushed reverence with which "Mrs T" was uttered.

And *drumroll*

[3] Mrs T__ has a PA lah! Duh!

Eventually, I had to speak with Mrs T__ herself (wow, led into the Inner Sanctum!) - who still owes me a date and time for the interview. Drum fingers.


I can feel it working :-)

By the way, it is probably the only place where you can tell someone "you sure look hot" without getting slapped. Heh.

Eyes half shut

Fell asleep blogging last night, and then got woken up to rest my mostly asleep brain on the phone receiver and keyboard. Hope I did not offer any friendly advice that would ruin anyone's lives - I am better at it when wide awake anyhow. Heh.

Eyes wide shut

Today, I survived on a grand total of two hours of sleep, followed by four hours of lying wide awake in bed. #!@%*$!!

Moving pictures

[ Mean Girls ]

I concur - there is something very interesting about Lindsay Lohan.

[ 2046 ]

"Everyone who goes to 2046 has the same intent
To recapture their lost memories
Because in 2046, nothing ever changes
Nobody can be sure that this is true
Because nobody who goes there
Has ever come back
Except for me
Because I do need to change."

Is anything worth giving up the future for? An otherwise strange and often tedious film.

[ Birth ]

Most intriguing. Must watch - if not for the story (and Nicole Kidman's interesting new hairdo), then just to find out if the dead can return and how far love would go.


Pretty Boy: "How many layers are you wearing?"

Not-so-pretty Boy: (Reticent mutters.)

Pretty Boy: (Repeats question - very persistent.)

Not-so-pretty Boy: "Just boxers underneath."

Pretty Boy: (Looks over to check out NspB's boxers - a generous display because of his low-slung bermudas.)

Trying to figure out how long it would take to unwrap your new friend, eh?


OooOoo... picking up the holiday photos next week. Trying to decide whether to upload them here (and possibly bring the polarbear server down on its knees) or dump them into a new Blogger site (and not incur the wrath of the server administrator). Heh.

TGIF. Not.

How am I going to survive today on only four hours of sleep?

Sometime in those hurried hours of sleep, I had a dream within a dream - the sensory element was so strong that everything seemed real, until I realised, while still in sleep mode, that it was all just a dream. I even remember doubting the authenticity of the encounter while dreaming it; decided it was real; and then realised it was just too good to be true. Ah well...

Mad genius

He called to seek advice for a referral to a suitable medical specialty. (Ok. Go on.)

You see, he had a nephew who was really bright for his age. (Okayyy... and you need medical attention because...?) The child could read entire books and thick ones at that, do complicated mathematical sums and perform simple operations on the computer. (You mean like... press the power button?) And he was only six. Impressive, I murmured. (AND, you think the child needs to see a doctor because...??? Get to the point, misterrr, before I show it to you.)

Was there some kind of doctor he could refer the child to? A psychologist, maybe? To assess the child. (Must. Bite. Tongue.) "Well, it really does not sound like your nephew has a MENTAL, uh, MEDICAL condition, which would necessitate a visit to the Institute of Mental Health psychiatrist." (Damn! That drew blood, didn't it? Wipe spittle from side of mouth.)

He paused, confused, not too sure what to make of the steely edge in the little girl's voice. (Come now, BE NICE!) Quickly continuing, in a kinder tone this time, I suggested MENSA. They would have all the right contacts to get his nephew tested, and "talents" developed. He sounded almost disappointed. (Why are you so intent on a MEDICAL assessment???) I reiterated my suggestion, which he accepted, rather reluctantly, and then hung up - presumably to call MENSA.

And then, it hit me. Who, at six, reads entire books? The child must be some kind of freak. And we all know what people say about the intelligent ones. No wonder Uncle was anxious to have his little head "examined". Just take my childhood as a typical representation of most NORMAL six-year-olds'. When I was that age, the closest I ever got to mental stimulation was being put to the odious task of getting to the root of all vegetative existence - plucking the roots off bean sprouts. (To this day, my gag reflex is triggered whenever I come within smelling distance of bean sprouts that have not been cooked to death.)

But I digress from what is surely a serious matter.

Perhaps I ought to have advised Uncle to check the titles of those books that his nephew has been reading from cover to cover - "Homicide for Dummies"? "Investment Strategies - Maximising Insurance Payouts from Dead Relatives"? "How to Behave Like a Normal Six-Year-Old"? "World Domination for Dummies"? Who knows what diabolical schemes are already brewing in that little head? Better nip it in the bud before it's too late.

There was never a genius without a tincture of madness. - Aristotle

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Why??? Whyyy do they keep passing such calls to meee???

Wrong number (again)

Wrong number: "Hello, that day I called to ask about the rubber (something). What is the model number?"

(Notice how she did not check that she had gotten the right number?)

I: "I dunno."

Wrong number: "You... dunno???"

I: "Dunno. How would I know???"

Wrong number: "Eh, how many girls are there at your side? Maybe I spoke with..."

I: "Oh, we have a lot of girls here. But we don't sell rubber (something)."

Wrong number: "Oh... is this not (some chi-na name) company?"

I: "No. This is my personal number."

Wrong number: "Oh! Wrong number! So sorry!"

I might as well drop M1 and switch to Starhub for their free incoming calls. (Well... at least I'm not getting irritated with these wrong numbers anymore. Heh!)


Girl (after spotting male friend at the Raffles Place MRT Station): "HEY!!! What are you doing HERE?!!!"

Hallo, woman, this is only the MRT Station. It's not like he just walked into the female toilet (or male toilet - in which case, what are YOU doing there???), or landed at your feet while you were pointing at the cute koala bears dining on leaves on the eucalyptus trees in Australia - in which case, what are the chances that you'll both be at the same place at the same time in this big, big country away from our little sunny island, eh?


[1] "I studied English at the bloody American University in Cairo!"

[2] Here's another hint: 5-letter word with a silent 'e'.

[3] If you like poms, stay far, farrr awayyy from me.

Reverse psychology 024295

Tonight, I paid for $30 worth of shock therapy, which went something like this:

Operator: "Are you ready?"

I: "Nooo!!! I wanna get off (too late now) ...... whimper ...... mmmmrrrhhh ...... AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGhhhhhhhh!!!!!! whimper ...... [excretory expletive deleted] ...... AAARRRGGGhhhgggrrr ...... arghrg (okayyy, you just screamed enough for yourself and the quiet one beside you) ...... [excretory expletive deleted] ...... ah-hahaha ...... [excretory expletive deleted] ...... [name of religious figure deleted] ...... hahahaha ...... [more excretory expletives deleted] ...... uhhhh ......"

The path less travelled

A recent acquaintance from three degrees of separation - friend's colleague's brother's friend - turns out to be a friend's friend. One would have thought the chances of meeting through the latter would have been better. But, come to think of it, not always true - in this case, we keep to our own social circles.

When there are not enough commonalities to bring about an encounter within a shorter chain of connections, I guess a few intermediaries are sometimes necessary to bridge the distance between people. The shortest, and seemingly most direct, route between two points is not always optimal. Strange how life sometimes chooses the longer (and more scenic?) path.

Stranger still how small my world is becoming, considering that I am not a social creature.


Passing a couple of bladers, one turns to the other: "Eh, Adrian, challenger."

To self: "What the..."

Another time, doing a wide glide and coming up behind a group of strollers, one alerts the group: "Area..." and they move to the side.

Raise eyebrow. Boys and their gamespeak.


For several weeks now, I've not had more than two cups of coffee a day. While I still appreciate a good blend, the craving seems to have gone away suddenly. Shrug.


O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei is so beng. (And after watching the music video - make that GAY too!) But, dammit, so, so catchy. Arrrgggh...

Moving pictures

South Park 8-1: Good Times with Weapons.

Must. Stop. Laughing. (Cartman's wardrobe malfunction. Snicker hysterically.)


Ambient Nights Ethni-City CD2 - Oushie Camps Outside of the Gates.

TGIF. Not.

Thanks to a miscalculation by my feeble brain, I shall be working every Saturday until the end of this month. Darn.

First Sight

How can you not love someone when you can see so many things about him / her that you like / love?

But, what if someone else comes along, who you cannot help loving - just because. And you will never forget such a one - you will spend the rest of your life looking for an answer that does not exist.


Wrong Number 1: "Is your father at home?"
I: (Hmmm.) "How would I know? I'm not at home now."
Wrong Number 1: "Oh, I got the wrong number, didn't I?"
I: "Yesss." (How did you guess?)

Wrong Number 2: "Hmmpfff!!! Where ARE you?!"
I: "Next to the mortuary."

It will be like this from now on, when people call without checking if they have gotten the right number.

Anyway, what is it about callers (not the abovementioned) who hang up abruptly on a wrong number? If they had knocked me down on the road and killed me, I would have totally understood the futility of an apology to my mangled and lifeless body. But I ain't dead yet, am I?

Moving pictures

"There are a lot of people who take offense at my blog, namely the serious people - people who don't have a sense of humour and they do not know that you are joking, either that or narrow-minded people."

Now, THIS, is really funny.

From Valska

Spare a thought for our furry friends.

Déjà vu

We often register an impression or image before we're actually aware that we have seen it. "The brain sends visual signals through at least two circuits, which move from the retina through the brain to the visual cortex via different routes," writes Times reporter Benedict Carey. "It is an exquisitely tuned system, but common experience suggests many ways its functioning might be thrown off." It's a type of short-circuit in our brains."

Now, somebody explain the smells to me - before they drive me nuts.

Army daze

(Told over dinner last week.)

During a training session, recruits were ordered to storm a building after setting off a dummy explosive on the barricaded door. When the explosive "went off", one of the recruits failed to charge the building and told his instructor that the door was still in the way, to which the latter shouted: "USE YOUR HEAD!!!"

Naturally, he did.

I have not laughed quite as hard for a long time. Wipe tears from eyes.