Gotta move my ass
Whalladay.
And it’s not even over yet. waahh…
I’m at home now, transcribing a two and half-hour focus group, from Mandarin to English.
And I hate the facilitator in the focus group.
She needs interviewing skills training. She’s absolutely horrid with the interview and with her questioning methods. And she keeps repeating the same theme over and over, till one of the participants actually says that she’s been harping on that particular subject forever.
Oh, why am I at home on a holiday?
Well, first up. I hate crowds. Despite the celebration of 47 years of independence, I am happy to stay at home and nurse my freaking pounding headache. And second, I have this translation job. And third, I just wanna rest.
I’m tired. Tired of work. So much to do, yet so few hands to work on. Two’s not a lot. Ah well… when the department collapse, that will serve management right. Already one sales has left, and the remaining sales has thrown in her resignation. And the promotions admin is going around for interviews already. And the designers look as though they are looking about as well. So… we’ll see how long the magazine can stand.
But I’m planning a dinner-cum-get-drunk session with gurlsfrens tonight. Seems silly to get drunk and happy the night before a working day on a weekday, but hell, who cares. Nothing that an emergency call-in sick leave that can’t do the trick.
Nah, knowing me. I’ll just measure out my portion of the booze with water and food and set a curfew to chase everyone home before crashing into bed for work tomorrow. Muahahahaaa…
Had a really weird dream of espionage. This is the third time I’ve dreamt of something like this, and it actually made sense. You know how in the dream you know it doesn’t make sense but in the dream you still feel it is. And when you wake up, you wonder what the fuck that was all about and why you went along with it. Sorta like Alice in Wonderland. This one actually made sense in the real meaning of senses!
I’m going bonkers here. And it serves me right to lighten up my transcribing with reading a novel that has the main characters always having sweaty and burn-up-the-carpet sex!!! Man, I need to get laid.
Which reminds me. I better work on that compilation of stories that I want to write about on my previous experience as a lecturer and escapades of my ex-students. Already got four. Should work on the other six.
Gotta think like an ant and move my ass.
It’s dem darn musicals
I haven't been sleeping well for the past week.
I woke up with a headache this morning.
I took my peppermint tea, which helped. It's the only thing I can take for headaches since I'm allergic to all painkillers. But it came back in the afternoon heat. Took my peppermint tea again and it helped. Till I went for yoga.
Today was the most horrendous yoga session I ever had. And it’s got nothing to do with the yoga itself, or the music, or the instructor.
It was because of the racket outside.
Since it’s the Hungry Ghost Festival again, people have set up tents with the 6 feet joss sticks and some food and a stage podium. And microphones and amplifiers.
It’s karaoke music at its worst.
Those amplifiers were blasting these Ah Beng and Ah Lian songs like there was no tomorrow, and loud enough to shatter ear drums. Not only Ah Beng Ah Lian songs but also those horrifying dialect songs. I think they were Hokkein and Teochew.
For the foreigners’ FYI, these horrendous ‘musicals’ are actually set up to ‘entertain’ the spirits. That the spirits will gather around to listen and ‘have fun’, so to speak. Some places even put up those olden Chinese opera shows, complete with heavy make-up and wigs and beards. It’s supposed to make them feel at home again.
Someone I knew sometime before, who had the ‘eye’, told me that it was like seeing a crowd of people, with the spirits filling in the gaps. And that if I wanted to see, there were ways to achieve that ‘sight’. I said, ‘No, thank you.’
I’m sleeping early tonight to get over this freaking headache.
But tonight I’m also a little disturbed. Because I got an email from my cousin, the one who was silent, and I didn’t expect to hear what he had to say.
He said that I should reconsider migrating to Australia to work, that I should stay where I was.
I was like, ‘What the fuck?’
Of all the people who know of my intention to migrate, he was the one who had encouraged and supported me in my decision the most. And now he tells me that I should reconsider.
I’m confused. Not totally, because I know the ultimate decision belongs to me. But, damn! I’ve already had one session of cold feet 2 years ago. I don’t need another one. Not when I’ve already worked myself to a firm decision to leave by the first half of next year.
I’m not angry with him. I’m just now wondering why he says this to me NOW. Sure, I’m terrified of going to a new place to start over. Everything’s here. My family, my friends, my career.
I have a roof over my head. (I dun over there)
I have a car to travel to work and for pleasure. (I dun over there)
I have a wonderful network of friends. (I dun over there)
I have a good career going on here in a magazine. (I dun over there)
I am literally going over to nothing. But that didn’t stop me from applying for PR four years ago. I still wanna go over. I want to live on my own, with no strings and obligations to my family, or my mom, especially. While I’m living under her roof, I have no freedom. So in spite of hearing these opposite, albeit, discouraging comments, I am adamant in going over. I just hope I don’t suffer too much over there. Or really have to return with my tail between my legs. Or come back to find that I cannot pick up where I left off…
I anticipate another white night…
I'm not hard-headed!!!
Got
this via
jesse. This says that I'm hard-headed... But I'm still in denial!! lol..... Noooooo... I'm not hard-headed!!!
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You are a XPIT--Expressive Practical Intellectual Taker. This makes you a Manager.
You are cool, thoughtful and intelligent. Your approach and your sense of humor are under-the-radar, your charm is undeniable. You keep everything under control. You have distinctive vocal mannerisms. You may not have much interest in approaching strangers, but when you do, you are successful.
You will probably end up with someone beautiful, fascinating and off-balance. While your partner may steal the limelight, it's you that keeps things running smoothly and provides stability in your relationship. If you are with someone as contemplative and hard-headed as you, you can have a tough time.
Your greatest asset is that you tackle conflict as it rises -- you don't ignore it and let it brew. If you have a partner that *does* let it brew, it will make you crazy! You can find yourself fighting for two -- trying to anticipate your partner's needs and draw their feelings out -- which is exhausting and, well, not your job.
You would never cheat. You would make an excellent spouse. When your spouse's friends met you, they would think, "Crap, why couldn't I get that one?"
Of the 5108 people who have taken this quiz, 5.6 % are this type.
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I really am not hard-headed. *pout* But I have had a few who have expressed the "Crap" sentiment. Though, for the life of me, I can't imagine why.
But yes, I would never cheat.
Announcing the opening of the Gates of Hell
Yes, it’s that
time of the year again.
This morning mom reminded brother and me to be careful.
To ‘be careful’ entails not kicking seemingly innocent-looking objects by the street, not stepping on seemingly innocent-looking objects, not touching anything that is remotely connected to
altars, joss-sticks, offerings and looking at a tomb upside-down between your legs.
Well, my mom did that when she was a little girl and got a visitation from the ‘friendly’ being who resided at the tomb.
True story. So be warned.
The Westerners, or rather, the Irish, would say that this is the time when the Veil between the human realm and the fey realm momentarily lift. And the time when spirits can flit in and out of the human realm at will. For the humans, not so lucky. If the human unwittingly stumbles into the fey realm, chances are, there is no way back or they won’t let you go back.
For the Asians, or the
Chinese ones, the ‘Lifting of the Veil’ is more dramatic. Movies depict a huge door that swing open to reveal fog and mist, with a shimmering firelight in the background, as the spirits and demons emerge for their annual romp in the human world. The sentimentalists would like to think of their departed loved ones using this opportunity to ‘visit’ them and ‘be’ with them. Some will swear that they can sense their presence. Some will swear that there were little indications that they were present. Suddenly everyone’s 5 senses (and some claim a 6th) will flare up extra sensitive.
What about me? Did I have an encounter? Did I ‘sense’ anyone? Have I ‘seen’ anything?
I don’t know really. It happened a long time ago when I was, perhaps, ten? Too old now to be able to say that it was real. But back then it felt real. And it was scary.
I thought I saw a white shape in my bedroom. Earlier that night, the family had been talking about my late grandfather who was blackmailed by his partners and charmed and died under the charm. And I loudly wondered if he would visit us, at which my mother and aunt quickly admonished me. Of course I puzzled and wondered why. And then they said it was ‘that’ time of the year.
Ok…
So got a friendly visit from Casper.
Maybe.
My brother wasn’t so lucky. One day he accidentally touched someone else’s plaque at the temple. That afternoon he was feverish till night. The next day he seemed fine, but when the afternoon came, he was sluggish and weak again. Quickly my mom called my aunt as she suspected that he had accidentally offended a spirit. So my aunt went to the temple to find out, and sure enough, he had. So my aunt had to offer prayers, incense and offerings to appease the spirit. By that night, he was better.
There was a point in time when I could smell my late grandmother’s fragrance. It would be in an empty room, with no open windows, or in the car, or in the house. And I would acknowledge her in mind and talk to her. Silly. But I loved her very much. And I never got to see her one last time. Nowadays I don’t smell her anymore. I wonder if this time around I could.
Swirly cloudy indeedy
Just came back from seeing the dermatologist. Pronounced doing well. Yay! Got a different cream. Got to go back in 10 days time for another follow-up. Woohoo!
Coming back noted the darkening horizon and cloudy skies. Suddenly a burst of showering leaves swirled across the street and into my path. The wind had picked up and all the trees were shivering in the windiness, shaking off their brown and ochre leaves, as if delighting in the coming rain and coolness.
I wished for a cool, cloudy day. Got it. It being windy was a bonus!
I’m happy. :)
Convoluted thoughts and dreams
In a totally incomprehensible and inconclusive mood. Perhaps the better word is numb.
Too many things swirling in my head.
Didn’t sleep well the night before.
Then again it may be because the mind was too stimulated over the aliens and predators.
Cause I watched Alien vs. Predator last night.
Couldn’t drop into oblivion when I finally checked into Morpheus’ Motel.
And even when I did sort of fall into the pool, the mind was still active and in a semi-awake manner. Yet I know I did sleep. Yet it didn’t feel like restorative sleep. Woke up in the morning with the feeling that my mind was collecting tokens of people trying to clock in, feet shuffling.
Token of what I don’t know. It only feels like those I.O.U. coupons that the lady at the counter collects from people with discounted coupons for cheap eats at a canteen.
I don’t even understand what I wrote. It’s just a distorted memory of the night’s dream.
Last thing that went through my mind when the alarm beeped was, ‘Shit. So many collected. How am I going to get rid of them all?’
Had breakfast. Was momentarily rejuvenated. But more of like a short-spanned pick-up hit. Now it’s dissipated. And my brain’s gone numb on me again.
Duuhhh……
Lots of things swirling in the head.
Replay scenes of my colleague crying in the office yesterday morning.
Replay scenes of having to juggle working on the magazine’s content and settling the freelancers’ payment long overdue.
Replay scenes of sitting and chatting with my marketing manager. Feeling like the fool for thinking that she was a good manager.
Replay scenes of the ending of the old Predator honouring the remaining human after an egotistic war inflicted on innocent species.
Replay scenes of that batty woman reaching out her hand for those intangible tokens of toll.
Feeling frustrated that I cannot help my colleague because she’s caught in this trap of being the token sacrificial scapegoat of cheap menial labour endeavours in the organisation that laughingly calls itself ‘strong’.
Feeling frustrated that I cannot seem to beef up the magazine without an extra hand and expected to make it successful based on
their inflated sense of worth. And embarrassed that they refuse to pay the freelancers on time.
Frustrated that my stupid MM don’t seem to realised that her attitude is making people leave the organisation.
Frustrated that the human species continues to struggle anyway against predators of our own kind, right at our own doorstep, in front of our eyes.
Frustrated that I didn’t get enough sleep and can’t steal a nap ‘cos I’m due at the doctor’s in a while for my follow-up of my allergic skin anyway.
And so my brain continues its convoluted spinning and swirling. With my designer playing Pink’s album in the background. Oddly soothing.
With luck, it’ll be a cool cloudy day today for me.
Good healthy beginnings
In the beginning, God covered the earth with broccoli, cauliflower and spinach combined with an abundance of green, yellow and red vegetables. He did this so that Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.
Then, using God's bountiful gifts, Satan created Dairy Queen and Tim Horton's. And Satan said: "You want hot fudge with that?" And Man said: "Yes!" And Woman said: "I'll have one, too...with sprinkles." And lo and behold they gained 10 pounds.
And God created the healthful yogurt that Woman might keep the figure that Man found so fair. And Satan brought forth white flour from the wheat, and sugar from the cane, and combined them. And Woman went from size 2 to size 14.
So God said: "Try my fresh green garden salad." And Satan presented crumbled Bleu Cheese dressing and garlic toast on the side. And Man and Woman unfastened their belts following the repast.
God then said: "I have sent you heart-healthy vegetables and olive oil in which to cook them." And Satan brought forth deep-fried coconut shrimp, butter-dipped lobster chunks, and chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter. And Man's cholesterol went through the roof.
Then God brought forth the potato, naturally low in fat and brimming with potassium and good nutrition. Then Satan peeled off the healthful skin, sliced the starchy centre into chips and deep-fried them in animal fats adding copious quantities of salt. And Man packed on more pounds.
God then brought forth running shoes so that his children might lose those extra pounds. And Satan introduced cable TV with remote control so Man would not have to toil changing the channels. And Man and Woman laughed and cried before the flickering light and started wearing stretchy lycra jogging suits.
God then gave lean beef so that Man might consume fewer calories and still satisfy his appetite. And Satan created McDonald's and the 99-cent double cheeseburger.
Then Satan said: "You want fries with that?" And Man replied: "Yes! And super size 'em!" And Satan said: "It is good." And Man and Woman went into cardiac arrest.
God sighed...and created quadruple by-pass surgery.
Satan chuckled and created The Canadian Health Care System.
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Oh, the evils that surround us!! I personally love, LOVE, KFC and Burger King. But I don't eat them all the time. I'm very careful with the things that I eat now. I'll only indulge in KFC once... 2 months? 3 months? Oh, I can have good will power if I want to when it comes to weight-watching.
But really, what's so evil with the Canadian Health Care System? Some internal country joke about that? Anyone know?
Olympic fun... not.
This is sick, man..... Sick, sick, sick...
http://www.sydes.net/jokes/flash/mr_otto_olympics.swf
Incomprehensible love and affection
I’m in a loving mood. I don’t know why, but I am suddenly effused with this overwhelming and encompassing love for my loved ones.
And it’s all because of technology!
We have yahoo messenger, hotmail MSN, and ICQ. Ain’t technology grand? Ain’t love grander because of it?
On ICQ, I have my bestest of best friends. We had a hard time letting go when I left Singapore for Malaysia. We had joy, we had fun, we really had seasons in the sun. There was a time when I hurt her, and I hurt more thinking that I could hurt her so badly, for being so insensitive. But as bestest of best friends are apt to do, we worked it out, and we got over it, and we moved on, and continued to be the bestest of best friends. I never fail to have this amazing amount of love and affection for her, never fail to thank God for giving me her for a friend. Till the day I die, I will never regret knowing her, because I have in her a kindred spirit, a soul mate, a companion of the heart.
On MSN, I have my dearest cousin of all cousins. Though he is difficult to understand, he has always been there to support me. He has shown me sensitivity and love, and immense understanding through the trying times when it cannot be easy to comprehend me. This promises him to be a good man to his future wife. And yet, I am unable to reach him because I don’t understand him enough to help him through his trying times. But then again, we’re too far apart. He in Melbourne and I in KL. I ache for his pain, but I know I could not help him much, other than in spirit, because he has to find a way to compromise the way he was brought up and the way he has tried to carve his own life.
And recently, my best friend has decided to join the Messenger world because she was too honest with company policy of ‘No Internet Messengers’ and downloads, blah blah blah. Such a sticker for company policies! After nearly 2 years of such stringent chains and sickening office dynamics (not unlike mine) she couldn’t care less and decided, Who the fuck cares! Picture me standing on the chair and going, ‘You go, gurl!!’ :) Now I have another buddy to bitch to in the office!! :P
On both MSN and Yahoo, I have a few good buddies and I have a good amount of ex-students whom I regular check up on, as to their progress at college and whenever they need any advice. I miss them… I think I miss teaching more. They continually ask me when I’m going back to teach them again. Awww…. such darlings. But I think I’m lucky. I have a goodly amount of friends and acquaintances that I try to keep track of and update myself on their whereabouts.
But I wish I could get hold of my adopted son in San Francisco. We lost contact suddenly cos he has not been to his ICQ. He was going through lots of rough patches for the past 2 or 3 odd years. By now I reckon his baby would be close to a year old now? Two years old? I wish I had money, then I can go hunt him down over there. I’m worried, but I dunno how to reach him.
Anyhow, I’m just filled with this totally incomprehensible amount of love for the people in my life and for technology. God, I love Messengers!!!
Toyota vs. Proton
Toyota has a method of testing whether their cars are air-tight.
They would put a cat in the car, close all the doors, windows and air ventilators, and leave the cat there for the night. If the cat was dead the next day, the car passed the air-tightness test.
Proton heard of this test and decided to try it out. They, too, put a cat in the car, close all the doors, windows and air ventilators, and left the cat there for the night. The next day, the cat was gone.
* * *
I'm banging on the belief that this is a joke made to poke fun at our 'dear' local car maker, Proton. If I find out that Toyota really tortured cats like that, I'm reporting them to SPCA, PAWS and Greenpeace! And the UN for good measure!! Even animals have rights!!!
Odd but true facts
I like reading these mails when people send me. Bcos you never fail to be amazed by these odd but 'true' facts.
'Odd but true facts'
1. Look at your zipper. See the initials YKK? It stands for Yoshida Kogyo Kabushibibaisha, the world's largest zipper manufacturer.
(Mine says STL.)
2. A raisin dropped in a glass of fresh champagne will bounce up and down continuously from the bottom of the glass to the top.
(Er... wouldn't it make everything else bounce anyway?)
3. A duck's quack doesn't echo. No one knows why.
(Anyone live near a canyon? Please test this.)
4. 40 percent of McDonald's profits come from the sales of Happy Meals.
5. 315 entries in Webster's 1996 Dictionary were misspelled.
(Must have been a good harvest of grapes that year.)
6. On the average, 12 newborns will be given to the wrong parents daily.
(Hell! Maybe I'm one of them!!)
7. Chocolate kills dogs! True, chocolate affects a dog's heart and nervous system. A few ounces is enough to kill a small sized dog.
(This happened to my gurlfren. It's sad.)
8. Most lipstick contains fish scales.
9. Ketchup was sold in the 1830's as a medicine.
10. Leonardo da Vinci could write with one hand and draw with the other at the same time.
11. Because metal was scarce, the Oscars given out during World War II were made of wood.
12. There are no clocks in Las Vegas gambling casinos.
13. Leonardo da Vinci invented scissors. Also, it took him 10 years to paint Mona Lisa's lips.
14. Bruce Lee was so fast that they actually had to slow a film down so you could see his moves. That's the opposite of the norm.
15. The original name for the butterfly was "flutterby"!
16. By raising your legs slowly and lying on your back, you can't sink in quicksand.
(Why didn't they show this in the movies like 'Raiders of the Lost Ark' or 'Tarzan'?)
17. Mosquito repellents don't repel. They hide you. The spray blocks the mosquito's sensors so they don't know you're there.
18. Dentists recommend that a toothbrush be kept at least six feet away from a toilet to avoid airborne particles resulting from the flush.
19. The first product to have a bar code was Wrigley's gum.
20. The first owner of the Marlboro company died of lung cancer.
(How apt. Sorry... dun like cigarettes and smoking.)
21. Michael Jordan makes more money from Nike annually than all of the Nike factory workers in Malaysia combined.
(Is he married?)
22. Marilyn Monroe had six toes on one foot.
(Cool.)
23. Adolf Hitler's mother seriously considered having an abortion but was talked out of it by her doctor.
(Waahahahhaaa...)
24. The three most valuable brand names on earth: Marlboro, Coca-Cola, and Budweiser, in that order.
25. "Stewardesses" is the longest word that can be typed with only the left hand.
26. To escape the grip of a crocodile's jaws, prick your fingers into its eyeballs. It will let you go instantly.
(Does the Crocodile Hunter know that?)
27. A mathematical wonder: 111,111,111 multiplied by 111,111,111 gives the result 12, 345, 678, 987, 654, 321.
28. The most common name in the world is Mohammed.
29. The average person falls asleep in seven minutes.
30. The "pound" (#) key on your keyboard is called an octothorp.
(You learn something new everyday.)
31. The only domestic animal not mentioned in the Bible is the cat.
(And that is why I don't like the Bible. Kidding...)
32. Rubber bands last longer when refrigerated.
(Really..........? Scrurrying to look for a rubber band...)
33. The average person's left hand does 56% of the typing.
34. "Dreamt" is the only word in the English language that ends in "mt".
35. It's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open.
36. In Chinese, the KFC slogan "finger lickin' good" comes out as "eat your fingers off".
37. A cockroach can live for 10 days without a head.
(Who wants to let them live anyway?! What more decapitate it!?! KILL!!!!!)
38. European women didn't wear underwear until the 1900's.
(Cool... Why wasn't I born then??)
39. We shed 40 pounds of skin a lifetime.
(We do? Freaky.)
40. Yo-Yos were once used as weapons in the Philippines.
41. Coca-Cola can be used as car oil.
(This proves my point that Coca-cola is bad... I mean, hey, they sure made my toilet squeaky clean when I was in Perth!)
42. Mexico City sinks about 10 inches a year.
43. Brains are more active sleeping than watching TV.
(This I believe, from all the weird dreams I've been having!!)
44. Blue is the favorite color of 80 percent of Americans.
45. When a person shakes their head from side to side, he is saying"yes" in Sri Lanka.
46. There are more chickens than people in the world.
(I find this quite unusual, because, how would you know? Does someone actually go around the world counting chickens? What about those eaten? Fast food? Take-out? Chinese restaurants?)
47. It's against the law in Iceland to have a dog.
(Why? Why?)
48. The thumbnail grows the slowest, and the middle nail grows the fastest.
49. The only word in the English Language with all vowels in reverse orderis "subcontinental".
50. There are more telephones than people in Washington, D.C.
51. Beethoven poured ice water over his head before he composed.
52. In Pakistan, it's rude to show your feet.
(And it's not rude to show the middle finger? Ok.)
The corners of my mind
I walked into the house and paused at the entrance, struck for moment, by a wonderful familiar smell, that of Auntie Nik. For a moment I was mildly stunned by that assault on the senses, the scent flooded my mind, brought back memories of my short sojourn in Singapore when I was 10, pleasant memories of an idyllic time when there really wasn’t anything to worry about, other than what to eat and where do go for larks.
And I wondered, if the house didn’t already know that she was coming back to visit and looked forward to welcoming her. Did it emit a welcoming fragrance in anticipation of her impending visit? Did it seek to prepare itself and spruce itself up for another lovely visitation of a homely and cosy personage? Did it feel happy, as we all are, that she was coming back?
I had to shake myself. Silly gurl. How can a house, a non-living entity, know and send out feelings? How could it?
I reasoned with my logic. It’s morning, fresh and still cool from the night.
But it’s warm! The senses cannot deny that the house feels warm, not heat, not temperature. Feeling…
I hugged myself mentally. I still remember living in that house for that short month. It was good. It was wonderful. It was warm. For a blissful month, I didn’t have to deal with my mom’s volatile temperament. It was peace. Little pockets of calm and tranquillity that I managed to garner for myself throughout my sad 27 years of existence. I guess I realised now, that it is these small, scarce, little pockets of peace, that I kept in the corners of my mind, that have sustained my sanity and self.
I may rant. I may cry. I may rage. I may curse. But I guess I should, and could, rummage through my memory banks, in those little pockets, for that palm-full of peace and sit in a corner and soak in it, before going out into the big bad open and face the world again.
Nervous. Anxious. Tremulous.
Tomorrow I’m going out with my cousin sister. To window shop. It’s the Mega Sales after all.
But it’s more because she’s bored, and she’s got no friends here in KL.
She’s younger than me. She’s quite a looker. She should be. Her father is Asian and her mother is an Australian. No surprise that she’s a model.
But when good looking people want to spend time with me, I always ask, ‘Why?’
I have a friend who’s quite good looking. We are good friends. Knew her in college. We have the same type of mother. Probably one reason why we click. And I’ve always wondered, why she liked hanging around with me. And I had a theory that, good looking people like to occasionally, regularly, hang out with plain people, so that they stand out better to outsiders. I’m not saying she’s shallow. After all she’s a darling friend. But I’m thinking that I’m not glamorous, not hip, not beautiful, not stylish, not bothered with being in an ‘in’ crowd, so why hang out with a plain black crow who sometimes don’t even feel ‘belonged’ in her surroundings?
I know I ought to shoot myself. There are a lot of good things about me, I know. But I’m nervous. And I am so not pretty. And very conscious of it. And I’m gonna feel so awkward tomorrow. I mean, I don’t really know her. Only met her twice when she came down for holidays and now she’s sorta here because of work.
I guess I’m going out with her because I really want to get to know my cousins, if possible. And I feel sorry that she doesn’t have friends here, so, as a cousin sister, I should be nice and take her out and let her have a good time.
God, I’m nervous about tomorrow. I hope I can show her a good time and that we can talk about stuff and laugh about stuff and just be comfortable. I’m always uncomfortable around good looking people. I feel… I always feel that they are suckers for pain to go out with me. Then I console myself by saying, it does make them feel good to be beside me… it only makes them look more pretty! *pat my heart*
Be strong.
Almost one life less!!!
Man, I had the FRIGHT of my life last night!
I was on my way home, and turned around the corner of the traffic lights, when this silly cat burst out of nowhere and straight across my path! I swear my heart nearly stopped on me. I expected a ‘thud’ and a ‘roll and bump’ as my vehicle would run over a hump on the road. Only after driving on smoothly for 5 feet did I realise that I didn’t hit it!
My heart was still thumping violently 10 minutes later. I couldn’t bear it if I did hit that cat. I would have burst into tears. I couldn’t bear if I did hit my own kin.
That cat is one life less. And this cat almost scared one away!
Want something back?
Anyone lost their
IC recently?
Do chipmunks dream?
I wake again amidst strange wispy dreams of large houses and shining moonlight on a dark night. Funny that I find such dreams peaceful and comforting, that I find my existence would be incomplete without these demented dreams. But for the life of me I cannot comprehend the people that walk in and out of them.
I once dreamt of Diana DeGarmo (Don’t ask). I dreamt of my old admirer numerous times. I dream of my grandmother regularly. I dreamt of Anne Shirley. Yes, of the Green Gables stories. I dreamt of demons and devils. I dreamt of numerous lovers that have passed on tragically. I dreamt of Ares, the God of War. I dreamt of one of the Valkyries of old Norse legends. I dreamt of Bao Ching. I dreamt of samurais. I dreamt of the Titanic. I dreamt of being back in Singapore. I dreamt of being back in Perth. I dreamt of being in Manchester to watch the League (God, I must be crazy!). I dreamt of being in places that a woman shouldn’t be in. I dreamt I was a harem gurl.
Things are almost back to normal at home now. It always takes time. But I always wish it didn’t happen at all.
My face is getting back to normal. Thank God! But still need to avoid certain foods in case of allergy again. Gods, I miss coffee!!! Damn it to hell and back! I wish I dared drink one minuscule sip of coffee!!!
:bang head against wall:
Another 25 things about me
Man, compiling this 25 more things about me wasn't easy. But here we are.
(Read
1-25 things first)
26. I buy flowers for myself ‘cos no one buys them for me, and also I read somewhere that placing white chrysanthemums on your table is calming and I’m so stressed out at work.
27. I love rain. Nothing more soothing and beautiful than the falling rain or dancing in the rain.
28. I don’t travel well and I tend to get grumpy and growl when people try to start a conversation with me.
29. I’m also not fit to talk to in the morning when I first get up. So don’t expect me to jump up from bed, singing what a beautiful morning.
30. I have a habit of suddenly erupting into a snort or some sound of self-disgust or a short hum, because something stupid or embarrassing that I did before popped into my head.
31. I love singing in the bathroom, in the car, in the office, anywhere.
32. I like listening to sad, soulful, suicidal-like songs.
33. Once I latch onto the song of the moment, I play it repeatedly, much to the chagrin of my colleagues. Muahahahahaaa…
34. I talk in my sleep. I laugh in my sleep.
35. I love bananas, but I hate banana cake, as well as, chocolate banana and any bizarre combination that includes banana. Yuck!
36. I want to either live forever (because I truly want to see the world evolve or deteriorate) or die tragically… ok, that was a little dramatic. I think I would prefer dying in my sleep or suddenly with no pain.
37. I am weird but I revel in it. I don’t look or consider many things as normally as other people. There are times when I know something which I really shouldn’t, couldn’t. Where the information came from I cannot tell; I can only speculate that it is an accumulation of knowledge gathered over the many lifetimes I’ve lived.
38. I am a good friend. I love my heart friends like a dragon loves its gold. I want to keep them safe all the time, but I know I can’t. If I can, I will go out of my way to help. If I cannot, then I suffer inside.
39. I am not beautiful, or pretty. At best I think I can describe myself as fierce looking or possess a piercing countenance.
40. As a result, I don’t know how to take compliments, other than to smile deprecatingly and say ‘Thank you’.
41. But I cry at the simplest sentimental scene.
42. I love and know how to make sushi.
43. I don’t like to touch money, because it’s dirty, and I feel compelled to wash my hands after touching them.
44. I still love to watch cartoons, at my age. (And I don’t care what other people say!)
45. I love Japanese manga.
46. My brother is autistic. I don’t know what to do for him most times. He is very quiet and loves watching cartoon, Bruce Lee, Jean-Claude Van Damm and James Bond movies.
47. I don’t aspire to own certain cars, but I’ve driven a Nissan Datsun, Kancil, Wira, Ford Explorer, Cefiro, Sentra and Perdana. Next CNY holidays let me see if I can persuade my uncle to let me drive his BMW.
48. I hurt when I see dead cats and dogs on the roadside. I wish I could stop the car and pick them up and take them somewhere where their remains will be taken care off, but I can’t just stop driving, because usually it is around corners, too soon after the traffic light, or an extremely busy road.
49. I have a dream of starting a shelter for animals, particularly cats and dogs. I’ve even thought of a name – Animal Haven. Not very original name, I know. But it’s gonna be filled with cats! And dogs!
50. And if I can, I wanna make it into an international thing. I wanna go global! Some dream, eh?
Been around the world, and yeah, yeah, yeah!
Oh God. I can sing the Lisa Stanfield song now.
“Been around the world, and yeah, yeah, yeah. I can’t find my …” oops, different thing.
Phew! I’m beat! I only just came back into the office. Never been in the office in the morning in the first place!
Went straight to the photoshoot location from home. And KL is jam as usual. Blast! Was late by 15 minutes. Ok lah… Today’s shoot was fantastic. The lady is a true yogi and her postures and poses were truly well-tuned and such elegance! This month’s front cover and inside pictures will be grand… yes, sirree. And then had lunch outside with my designers at this great Hong Kong restaurant. Yum! Then I flew over to Citibank to pay my bills. Did I say ‘flew’? Oh yeah, I did. Then I zoomed down to the other end of town to pick up Visions. Then I zipped back to the centre – office. With a big grin on my face.
Visions is out!!! Wooohoooo!! The wait is finally over!! Yeeehaaaa!
I shall start on it tonight! No, Amiee, I’m not giving it to you tonight. Wait till
moi finish! Muahahahahahahahaaaaaaa….
What a day!
Now I’ve plunked my little ass (yes, it’s
little!!! – I defy anyone to challenge me!) and have to start on the pile, yes,
PILE, of work. *sniff sniff*
Sigh… whalladay.
How I didn't laugh my way thru'... and should
I haven't been blogging for the past few days because I didn’t feel up to it (3 guesses why – what else?) and because I was sick, and I was sick. And still sick. Why? You might ask. What happened?
Ok. Here we go.
I had been nursing a dry and painful throat since last week, which I knew was a sign that if I didn’t take care, I would come down with a full-blown flu. So I managed to stall its arrival, of course, still hoping that it would go away.
It never went away. On Monday it decided to attack with full force and it took me by total surprise. Yes, guess what. Your body can renegade on you. Minus 10 points for me.
I was sneezing non-stop and my nose was dripping non-stop. Lucky for me, I’d just changed a new tissue box in the office! Yay! Add 10 points for me.
But I had a function on that day. And so I put on make-up. Minus 10 points. You know why?
Normally, when I’m sick, I don’t bother with make-up. Period. Because it’s bad enough to have to blow your nose non-stop the whole day. Why bother with make-up when it would have been rubbed off by mid-day? But I was vain. Because of the function.
One other reason I don’t bother with make-up on sick days, is because I instinctively knew that poor immune system and foreign chemical substance on sensitive skin is a huge No-No.
But I was vain. So I put on make-up.
After the function, it became clear that I wasn’t in a good shape. And I was dying to get rid of the make-up. I went to Watson and saw, by chance, BY CHANCE, Johnson & Johnson Facial Wipes. Yes, I bought it. And I used it in the car on the way back to the office. Truth be told, now that I think about it, it burned. I felt it burn but I kept on using it, even on my neck. Minus 20 points.
Back home that night I made a further blunder by using one of those DIY face masks. Still didn’t feel anything.
But I almost screamed the next morning when I woke up.
My face was full of little bumps. All over. Even on my temples and my neck. I panicked. I didn’t go to work. Excuse being that I was still suffering from the cold. Which was true. My nose was still dripping. But by evening the allergy was still there and showed no signs of abating. I drove to the doctor. He said it was a small matter and gave prescribed me a steroid cream and to keep my face clean.
The next morning it didn’t look better. In fact it was redder and blotchy. But I couldn’t avoid work. For two days I put the steroid cream but it showed no signs of subsiding. Finally I didn’t use it on Thursday and Friday, and my face began to show signs of swelling.
Yes, I now look like a chipmunk bent on storing enough food for two Holocaust winters! I can sometimes feel my face stretching to accommodate the swelling.
I went back to the doctor again on Saturday when I saw no signs of improvement. It was another doctor, a locam. He said that I should continue the cream as it prevents swelling. And he prescribed me two pills for the allergic effect-cum-swelling.
I feel it getting slightly better. The bumps have subsided, they no longer feel like rounded bumps, they feel flatter, more like those tar fillers that road repairers pour into the holes on the road. I suspect it will take quite a while to go back to its original state, because I’ve noticed that I don’t heal as well as I used to, especially when I get a cut or gash.
But it itches like Hell!
And to think that my cousin wanted to go bar-drinking on Sunday! I told her, ‘No way am I going out looking like this!’
And it doesn’t help that my mom has been lecturing and scolding me for my present condition.
“Why do you do this to yourself?!” Er, excuse me, I didn’t ASK for it to happen!
“You keep making blunder after blunder!” Er, helloo!! You’re the one making the big hoo-hah and it’s not a personal attack against you, for Christ’s sake! It’s my face! I should know how much of a mistake it was to use that facial wipe! I feel it!
Well, at least I’ve had a relatively peaceful (if you can forget that there is a cold way happening at home now) weekend. I read an old copy of Vogue, which I flinched from the magazine's library. I never knew that Vogue was such great reading material. I relearnt lots of words, ie., 'menage a trois', 'saturnine', 'malfeasance'. Gotta go look up other words though, like, 'L'Apres Midi d'un Faune', 'balletomane' and 'douceur de vie'. And ask some American friends about some slang, like, 'spiffy', 'bamboozled' and 'lemon'.
I’ve been reading my books for reviews in the magazine, since I trying to put a rush on the next issue.
I read 'Zen Meditations on Being a Mother' by Roni Jay. Nice. I think I might get this one for myself later on, in preparation for being a mother when I adopt. Later.
Also finished this book on surviving menopause by Jan King, called ‘When you’re Hot, you’re Hot’. It’s about how she laughed her way through menopause. And it’s really fun to read. I recommend it to women of all ages, well, certainly those who are of an age, who should start prepping themselves for eventual menopause.
You may or may not get it. But don’t count on genetics. My paternal grandmother had menopause and, as recounted by my mother, she went ballistic. Upon being hit by menopause, she actually packed her bags and moved to live in a motel for three days, during which, my grandfather begged her daily to return home.
I laughed. You may laugh too. But if it comes to your turn, trust me, you wouldn’t be laughing. Why do I say that?
My mother went through menopause herself. And trust me – not a ride in the park. She had hot flushes. Really hot. One minute she was wearing a blouse. The next she was wearing only her bra. In the confines of home, of course! But she was suffering; one minute she was fine, the next she was burning up.
But when I learnt that my maternal grandmother didn’t go through menopause, I’m crossing my fingers, my toes, and anything that can cross, in the hopes that I WILL NOT suffer this cursed affliction.
I’m hopeful. You know what they say about the ‘skipped generation’ syndrome.
Anyway, back to the book. I recommend it to women in their late twenties (sure, at this age you’re more concern with getting married and your career, but it’s not a bad time to read more), thirties (you already got the man and the career, isn't it time to start thinking about your health?), forties (ah-ha – you’re getting closer to that ‘blessed’ window of truth. Beware.), fifties (ok, it’s too late. But you could benefit from learning about your mood swings – it’s okay to want to scream ‘Off with his head!’ when your order of roast chicken rice becomes steamed chicken rice instead – and it’s okay to fantasise of castrating your husband when he hits mid-life crisis – another can of worms, wouldn’t you say?).
Don’t you just love menopause?
Frankly, I think menopause might be the greatest thing to happen to a woman, because of two things.
One, you don’t have anymore monthly blood flows. What more could a gurl ask for? No cramps. No bulky sanitary pads between the legs. No more leakages at night. No more stained panties. I could go on!
Two, you can have all the sex you want, because you won’t get pregnant! Yay!!!
If, of course, you don’t feel like killing people in your path.
If, you don’t get hot flushes.
If, you don’t get depressed and psychotic, like my paternal grandmother (I think my grandfather got off bloody easy, if you ask me! All she did was run away!).
And if, of course, your husband is totally supportive. Meaning he doesn’t moan and groan about waking up early to fix breakfast for the kids, and he doesn’t complain about chauffeuring them to tuition.
And if he doesn’t suddenly come home and say, ‘I’m sorry, honey, but I think I lost the spark in this relationship. I found someone else who lights me up’.
You want someone to light you up? Come closer… let me start up the stove. I’ll make you light up!
But I digress. What were we talking about again?
You know what? I suddenly realised that it isn't easy being a woman. She has to fight for her rightful place in the working force. And yet, she’s expected home in time to cook for the man, and to clean after the children. And with no word of complain or moaning. And then she has to take care of the children’s upbringing. If the child goes out of hand, the mother is to blame. This is where you hear mutterings such as, ‘No manners. The mother didn’t teach (child) properly. How shameful.’ Not to mention that she still has to jaga her looks, otherwise, one day her husband comes homes wanting a divorce (You’re tying me down) or she finds out from someone else that he has a mistress (who’s 20, drop dead gorgeous and with a waist). Heaven forbid if she should looked dumpy and frumpy. She needs a paperbag over her head. You know, the old bats are to blame also. Chinese words-of-wisdom like ‘Can cook well in the kitchen, is presentable in the living room, and can satisfy in bed’ don’t help at all.
Oh dear, where was I?
Oh well!
Tomorrow’s Monday. And I still look like that chipmunk on pre-winter stock-up frenzy. Oh, God!! Let the swelling go down more tonight while I sleep… PLEASE!
Narnia Mania!
Oh my God! They are going to show the
'Chronicles of Narnia'!!! *gasp*
But only in Christmas!
Next year!
Oh God! They made us wait for LOTR each year. They made us wait for The Matrix. They made us wait for Harry Potter. Now they're adding another one?!!!
:banghead against the wall:
Story of a gurl
Episode 487
The girl lingered a few more moments before she went into the bedroom.
She was lying in bed, head turned to the side, facing away from her.
She knelt down by the side, not too close, in case she decided to fling her hand out to slap her. She didn’t want to make it easy for her to touch her physically.
Lord, grant me strength.
“Please forgive me, ma. Please talk to me. I’m sorry I jeopardised our safety at night. I’m sorry I didn’t lock the door, put the chair in front of the door and latch the windows that night.”
Silence.
She drew in another breath.
“Please talk to me, ma. I’m sorry I put us all in danger like that. I promise to be more careful in future.”
She turned her head.
“How to talk to you? After one incident, you have to go create another incident to piss me off.” She turned her head back.
“I’m sorry, ma. I’m really sorry I didn’t do all those things that night. I will be careful in future.”
She turned her head again.
“You’re big now. Got wings, got feathers. You don’t give a damn about this house anymore. But I tell you this, as long as you are staying here under my roof, I don’t care if you don’t like my rules, you make sure that you don’t put the rest of us in danger at night. I don’t care if you are going away to another country, as long as you are still living here you obey my rules.” She turned her head back.
She couldn’t say anything for awhile. What could she say?
“It’s not that I don’t like your rules. I just forgot to lock the door, to put the chair in front of the door and to latch the window. I’m sorry. I will be more careful in future.”
She turned her head back.
“You better start giving me back money every month. Don’t think that you can just live here without paying a cent.”
“I have been putting money in your account.”
“What? Since when?”
“Since… I don’t remember. I’ve been putting into our joint account.”
“And didn’t it occur to you to tell me?”
“You wouldn’t take it, so I just put it in the account.”
“Why did you put it in?”
“For household expenses, for boarding and for food.”
“This is not your house. It’s mine.”
What to say? Nothing. The girl had learnt a long time ago that to say more would be to step more into trouble. Best to keep quiet. Stow it in. Don’t say anything.
“You better move out quick. I don’t want to see all this shit. No shit to see, a blind man’s eyes are cleaner.”
What to say? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Rabbity dog or doggie rabbit
For some odd reason I dreamt of my late grandmother last night. But perhaps it was because I had a ‘conversation’ with someone about dreaming of late grandmothers! You know who you are…
It wasn’t my old house. I used to dream lots of strange things in that house. I think I’m doomed to forever find myself haunting the house in my dreams. Perhaps I should make another trip back to the house and see if I can lay some elusive ghostly sentiment to rest? But then again, if it didn’t work the first time, should it work the second time? I wonder if the family that stays there now will let me in…
I dreamt I was in a house, that was quite spacious but long, unlike my old house, that was more square-ish and wide. This was lengthy. The front door opened to a long and wide walkway that had tasteful waiting chairs and sofas, with a few ornamental vases, which then opened wider to a living room, completely with sofa, coffee table and wide wall mirror hanging above the sofa seats pushed against the wall. At the end of the living room was a set of bathrooms, one of which refused to lock, no matter how I latch and kick the door shut. On the right immediately after entering, a little corridor led to stairs that obviously went up to the second level of rooms. There was a small window at the stairs. A little further along the walkway was a room that my grandmother was sleeping in.
It was surprisingly messy inside; her big luggage bag was flung open with clothes spilling out. Some smaller bags were at the side against the wall, equally messy with items and clothing spilling out. The bed was not made and she was inside huffing around clearing up. I think she was leaving. I think she must have stayed for some time already. Now she’s preparing to leave. But not that day, I think.
But I wasn’t so concerned with her being there, as much as the pet rabbit that I seemed to have adopted, when and how I don’t recall. The odd thing about it is though, is that it thought it was a dog. I liked to cuddle against me like a puppy, and when I put it down, it snuggled as close as it could to me. I had name for it, but I can’t remember it now for the life of me.
Then I went to the front door as I thought I heard a knock. At the door, the rabbit went spiralling round me madly, much like a dog that wanted to be let out of the house, and then it sat its hunches down, and looked up panting, looking hopefully at me.
The first thing I thought of when I woke up was, ‘God! A rabbit that thinks it’s a dog! What will I dream of next?’
But now I feel like getting a rabbit... How?
Woke up to: 'Home' - Simply Red
Yes, I want to go to my 'own' home. Which is unattainable for the next 1 year or so. Sigh.
Thank you for the music
To others the pain was obvious
The colours of shame a bruise - unjust
Abuse of trust can't be wiped
I can't remember why I chose to say goodbye
I'm terrified of what I might have severed
I tried to forget the drowning truth
Lashing inside my sea of youth
Life seemed a fair sacrifice for peace
I can't remember why I chose to say goodbye
I'm terrified of what I might have severed
I ended up too high
But never learnt to fly
So coming down I'm very thankful (you were there)
* * *
Baby cried the day the circus came to town
'cause she didn't want parades just passing by her
So she painted on a smile and took up with some clown
While she danced without a net upon the wire
I know a lot about her 'cause, you see
Baby is an awful lot like me
Don't cry out loud
Just keep it inside, learn how to hide your feelings
Fly high and proud
And if you should fall, remember you almost had it all
Baby saw that when they pulled that big top down
They left behind her dreams among the litter
The different kind of love she thought she'd found
There was nothing left but sawdust and some glitter
But baby can't be broken 'cause you seeShe had the finest teacher – that was me
I told her
Don't cry out loud
Just keep it inside and learn how to hide your feelings
Fly high and proud
And if you should fall, remember you almost had it all
* * *
Just as he hit
The ground
They lowered a tow that
Stuck in his neck to the gills
Fragments of sobiquets
riddle me this
three half eaten corneas
who hit the area
Stalk the ground
Stalk the ground
You should have seen
The curse that flew right by you
Page of concrete
Stained walks crutch in hobbled sway
Autodafe
A capulary hint of red
Only this manupod
Crescent in shape has escaped
The house half the way
Fell empty with teeth
That split both his lips
Mark these words
One day this chalk outline will circle this city
Was he robbed of the asphalt that cushioned his face
A room colored charlatan
Hid in a safe
Stalk the ground
Stalk the ground
You should have seen
The curse that flew right by you
Page of concrete
Stain walks crutch in hobbled sway
Autodafe
A capulary hint of red
Only this manupod
Crescent in shape
Has escaped
Pull the pins
Save your grace
Mark these words
On his grave
You should have seen
The curse that flew right by you
Page of concrete
Stain walks crutch in hobbled sway
Autodafe
A capulary hint of red
Everyone knows the last toes are
Always the coldest to go
* * *
Why are there so many
Songs about rainbows
And what's on the other side
Rainbow's are visions
They're only illusions
And rainbows have nothing to hide
So we've been told and some chose to believe it
But I know they're wrong, wait and see
Someday we'll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me
Who said that every wish
Would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star
Somebody thought of that
And someone believed it
And look what it's done so far
What's so amazing
That keeps us stargazing
and what do we think we might see
Someday we'll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me
All of us under its spell
We know that it’s probably magic
Have you been half asleep
And have you heard voices
I've heard them calling my name
Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors
The voice might be one and the same
I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It's something that I'm supposed to be
Someday we'll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me
Laa, da daa dee da daa daa, La laa la la laa dee daa doo
I, Exterminator
I declare an all-out war on roaches and shall start a whole new exterminating campaign on them tomorrow.
For the past 2 weeks or so, on alternative days, roaches have been scuttling out to greet us ‘good morning’ upon our rising. This greatly perplexed us because we couldn’t figure out their bolt-hole. And we checked and plugged every hole we found potential ‘roach bolt-hole’!
Finally I pulled out the stopper of one of the drainage holes and sprayed ‘Ridsect’ liberally. Immediately, 3 roach came bursting out! You can imagine the heavy artillery in terms of whacking and spraying we engaged in! I turned back to cover the hole. 2 more came out! Another round of whacking and spraying ensued. I blasted the pesticide down the hole at full blast and a few more came stumbling out dazed. By now I was tired of whacking, so merely stood and zapped the buggers like crazy. Dancing drunkenly, they struggled to hide in dark corners. I let them. By end of the day we would find them all on their back, wheezing to take their last breathe, legs twitching skyward, dreaming of distant rubbish dumps and rotten wastes that are forever out of reach. Muahahahahahahaaaa……
Did I mention that I hate roaches?
I don’t like mosquitoes too. But then who doesn’t?
This morning as the whole family was out on a marathon errand Saturday, a pesky mosquito somehow entered the car and was flying around. Irritated, I tried to swipe the ‘mossie’ but made the car swerve dangerously instead. There and then, I thought, how nice if we ended up crashing and dying in a car accident, and all my troubles would be dead and gone, even though I would be dead too. But then I quickly berated myself, because I believe in karma. Since this lifetime’s karma was prematurely ended, it will begin anew in the next lifetime, and I would be doomed to suffer the whole thing all over again. So I mentally kicked myself for thinking that and decided to leave the stupid mossie alone, least I get us all into an accident.
But today was really an eventful day. Well, it was not laidback, to be sure. After running all those errands we headed back for a short nap, before going out for a afternoon show called ‘In the mood’. It’s a musical of all those Big Ben era and Swing era songs. It was fantastic. I must brush up on my music knowledge. I had no idea that these songs which I’ve loved since young were between the 20s to 40s! Shame on me. So I’m gonna go look up more of these era songs.
What I also really liked was the theater. It was at ‘Panggung Bandaraya’ and it reminded me so much of the concert hall in Perth, I believe it was called the King’s or Queen’s Royal Concert Hall, where we watched ‘Odyssey’. Complete with wooden panelling that had typical cultural Melayu etchings, they were separated by velvet lined boards. It wasn’t large like an indoor stadium. It was like those chamber rooms of the old Regency era you always see on television. Cosy, yet regal. Rather bourgeois.
*yawn*
Just came back from a hair fashion show. Which was okay, only. Had to go because we had always been too busy to go before. This time, my colleagues and I thought that I had better go, because it was a Saturday night. The previous times we had excuses because they were all on weekdays. Liked some of the hairstyles. But practical me frowned on most of them. Because it’s so hard to maintain on a daily basis!!! I mean, I try to through life unobtrusive, because I hate being in the limelight. So I don’t think most of the hairstyles is feasible for daily living. Enjoyed some of the clothes. Now if only I had the body. All I want is the body! Who cares what you wear??! I turn green with envy whenever I see those slender bodies.
Yeah, I know. Dream on, babe!
Ok. Why don’t I go to bed dreaming I have a body that’s to die for! That would be the only way I can possess that kind of shape. Sigh…
p/s About the title: I've watched 'I, Robot'and liked it a great deal. Very intriguing and I found myself wishing I had a copy of Asimov's robot story to compare later. I liked the narrative of the intelligent robot and the idea that they can have dreams and start revolutions. Also the producer did not screw it up by creating a romance between Will and Calvin. Excellent movie.
