Handicapped

Blistering anuses! The on-going Internet problem is making me feel so handicapped.

I waited all morning for emails to come through. And just five minutes ago, one email finally managed to find its way into my Inbox! Yippee!

But upon a check, I realised that it was a spam mail trying to sell me Viagra.

I give up.

I'm going to play Solitaire till we knock off at 4pm. Oh yes, we are knocking off at 4pm since this is the LAST Friday of 2006. Heck, time flies.

Joshie Smells Delightful!

I would like to share this bit of science with you:

Claus Wedekind, a biologist at the University of Lausanne, has found that women prefer the scent of men who are most genetically dissimilar to themselves.

Wedekind found that women who ranked the odour as pleasant had a different major histocompatibility complex genotype (MHC) than the man who wore that particular T-shirt. Conversely, when a woman ranked the odour as less pleasant, the MHC genotype of the man was similar to hers.

It is believed that smell influences mate choice in this instance to ensure a wider combination of genes in offspring, which may result in increased resistance to disease for their children.

Women have also been found to prefer the scent of men with greater bilateral body symmetry. Symmetry, in humans, means that facial and body features are balanced and proportioned. Scientifically, symmetry is considered a measure of physiological and genetic fitness. No one is exactly symmetrical, but when measured, those who are found most symmetrical are considered to have better genes.

Women found the smell of symmetrical men preferable to that of non-symmetrical men. The women didn’t even see photos of these men, yet they deemed them attractive by their smell alone. Another separate group of women rated the photos of these men and those which they deemed facially attractive were the same men, that using smell alone, the female test subjects found attractive.

~ Jenny Halvorson, Thompson Rivers Univeristy


Whaahhh. That's a whole lot of information to digest.

To put it simply, smells are damn important in the mating ritual, although one does not need to shake one's crotch in the face of a potential partner to get the other interested.

Based on the above extract, women will find suitable husbands very fragrant. Suitable husbands are determined by their biological compatibility with us.

Although we humans are the most intelligent of monkeys, we are inevitably still animals. So after drooling over that pretty/handsome face, taunt chest/buxomy racks, tight/perky ass.. and yes, a large bulge at the crotch... we will unconsciously determine if that person has good enough genes for our future kids. And the quality and compatibility of our genes are determined how much we like his/her smells.

That means...

Good genes = Good smells = SUPER ATTRACTION!

Of course some of you brainy people would already know this if you have, like me, spent long hours comatosed in front of the TV with Discovery Channel on.

Hence I am proud to do the following, despite Joshie's looks of amusement... and erm, occasional grimace of disgust:

1) Lie in bed and watch TV while sniffing Joshie's two-week old T-shirt he has been wearing to sleep.

2) Sniff his panties (so what if I prefer to refer to male undies as panties?) before I chuck them into the washer.

3) Sniff his armpits before/after his bath.

4) Sniff his cheeks.

5) Sniff his hair.

6) Sniff his shoulders.

7) Sniff his bum.

8) Sniff his feet.


Also I believe I have uncovered a whole new level of attraction between humans, which perhaps scientists have not discovered - I find my darling very tasty. He seem to have a certain sweetness on his skin, especially his cheeks and shoulders. I often feel a fiery urge to bite him.

Not good. Not good at all.

WHY?

Humans are inquisitive by nature, which is why we are often plagued with questions like:

1) Why doesn't Donald Trump hire a professional celebrity coiffer to change his hair style? He could definitely afford one.

2) Why doesn't Britney Spears wear panties? She could definitely afford one!

3) Why do we scratch our arse? What do you mean you don't do that?

4) Why the heck do we have pubic hair?


Then there are these two things I encountered, which prompted me to wonder WHY once more.




This is a fire lift, no? That's what the sign says. Then why are we advised not to use this lift in the event of a fire?



Hold your horses. I may be fascinated with trouser monsters, but I am only keen on the one inside Joshie darling's pants. I definitely did not venture into the Gents just to snap this picture. This was spotted inside one of the female toilets in Plaza Singapura.

Why huh? Why would ladies need this? Have I missed out on some new developments in the way women pee?

Anyway, if you are still wondering why we scratch our arses - and don't pretend that you have never done that when you are all alone - I can enlighten you. The itch is caused by irritation from the digestive products in our poop. The more you scratch, the itchier it feels. So you keep scratching.

As to why you sniff your dirty fingers after a vigorous scratching session, I can only guess that you secretly enjoy the smell.

Also, despite how some men love us to be as smooth as a child "down there" and more women are going for a full Brazilian wax, those forest down south do have a purpose. They catch the pheromones or nice smells that attract the opposite sex and make them go hot under the collar.

Right. Keep up those consecutive days of missing your bath, and you'll have men (and women) falling at your feet.

A Piece of Siem Reap

After such a long delay, I am finally going to share my Siem Reap trip with you.

Contrary to my initial impression of this Cambodian state, Siem Reap is an utter delight to visit. I am ashamed to have thought that Siem Reap was backward and the only excitement there are the ancient temples.



I touched down at the spanking new Siem Reap International Airport, which is barely a year old. You would never have thought it was an airport - it looked more like a lobby of a resort hotel. Love it!

Siem Reap's people are just plain polite and patient. Gone are those dark days when gun-totting Cambodians walked the streets, no thanks to the hard life brought upon the people by Pol Pot and his fellowmen.

And by golly! Most can speak fluent English, although a strong local accent is apparent. Who cares? I'm already happy that I can be understood.

Kat, Irene and I were hosted for free at the 5-star Angkor Palace Resort & Spa. We were very thankful for their hospitality as this is the peak season, and seldom would hoteliers offer complimentary stays during this lucrative period.



Angkor Palace Resort & Spa is a delightful place. I took this shot (above) from the steps that separated the lobby from the rooms. Awesome, eh? One has to walk through the lovely garden to reach the rooms. Somehow, I did not mind the walk although the afternoon sun was rather scorching.

And the room was pure bliss too! When I stepped into my room, all I wanted to do right there and then, was to topple onto my bed and sleep!


Basked in soft yellow lights, the ambience is sleep-inducing. And the bed was terrible comfy! In fact, waking up every morning to attend the conferences was pure torture!


As my room faces the garden, I have a nice view of the pool, the greenery and the ponds. A little al fresco balcony allows me to sit and switch off my mind to the rest of the world.


I must also mention that as a guest of Angkor Palace Resort & Spa, you are treated almost like royalty. I was picked up from the airport by a Lexus. Once I alighted at the hotel, I was directed to the breezy, spacious lobby and asked to take a seat while a staff helped me with the paper work at the counter.


Yes, someone actually checks in for me while I was served a refreshing cocktail and warm face towel.

And no, I was not enjoying special treatment just because I am from the media. I noticed that all other house-guests are being attended to this way. How wonderful!

If you are keen to visit Siem Reap, do consider getting yourself housed at the Angkor Palace Resort & Spa.

While I was in Siem Reap, I also took the chance to visit the famed Angkor Wat and the other temples.

Yippee! I just love these historical places! If I had a choice, I would have gone off to study archeology in University! Alas, archeology does not have a future in Singapore. And I can't imagine being away from my family and loved ones for too long!

Back to my temple trekking! My first stop was to Angkor Wat.



What a magnificent entrance!


Very often when I get to experience something wonderful and Joshie darling isn't with me to share in the joy, I would feel sad.

Stepping out of my rented ride and facing the full glory of Angkor Wat, I started to cry. So drama, I know!

But it was truly overwhelming to finally be able to see Angkor Wat for myself, and if darling was by my side then, he would have loved it too!


Go on, feast on these photos! I took more, but I shall not plant ALL here.



I spent three hours walking through, stopping occasionally to admire its many carvings, some of which have already been worn away by age, others vandalised.


Angkor Wat is like a spectacular maze! Long narrow corridors span the temple's interior like elaborate cobwebs, and its walls have carvings of Apsaras (fairy dancers) and others.

Dang! I should have spent a little more money and hire myself a guide. But stingy me did not, so I had nobody to relate the tales behind these ancient artworks and the history of the temples. At one point, I was so desperate to know what the carvings on a stretch of wall meant that I tried to loiter close behind a Caucasian family to eavesdrop on their tour guide! So Singaporean hor?



In certain corners of the Angkor Wat stood statues of Buddha. Worshippers clothe these statues in swaths of royal yellow and turned these corners into glorious "temples" where visitors could come and pay their respects. The smell of incense seemed oddly calming and I spent much time cooling off in the shadows and watching the locals pray at the foot of Buddha.

My visit to Angkor Wat culminated at my arrival at the highest pyramid, its steep sides rising imposingly. I surrendered. There was no way I could climb that structure in my sandals! Yet even the most well-made sport-shoes will not help.

The steps are indeed steep, and others before me who dared scale the final pyramid had to do it with their hands as support.

Look - see how one has to climb this? Without railings and safety features, going up seemed a daunting task. Every step was of different width and height. Some steps were even chipped off. That's not all. If you managed to scale it, you'll be faced with an even tougher job of getting down!

So I just sat around to rest my feet and check out other more courageous visitors.

I was dead tired by the time I finished touring Angkor Wat and my feet were threatening to rebel. It isn't an easy walk through Angkor Wat! The stone floors are uneven, some are cracked. The steps are high with irregular widths, so I had to tip-toe on some, while walk side-ways on others.

I spent the rest of the evening soaking my feet in the bathtub.

I visted Bayon, Ta Phrom, Preah Khan and the Elephant Terrace on my final day in Siem Reap with Kat and Irene. We started off early in the morning and managed to see these temples before rushing to the airport to catch our flight!

Bayon is also a magnificent temple with towering structures and is known for its humungous Buddha carvings.

The architecture for Bayon is simply amazing. I stood inside an enclosure with openings on four sides. And when I look out at every side, there would be a Buddha's face perfectly aligned in view. The photo above is taken from within the enclosure. Do you see the carving of Buddha's face on the wall behind us? Cool, right?

Oh, and we also took a hot-air balloon up into the skies to get a bird's eye view of Angkor Wat. Blast the morning fog! We could hardly see a darn thing! And it ain't cheap! USD$15 to see fog.

OK lar... at least I saw the moat surrounding Angkor Wat, so better than nothing.

As for Ta Phrom and Preah Khan, these temples are famed for their monstrous trees and big-ass roots that grow over the temple structures like some alien tentacles.


Despite how gross the tangled roots appear, this is my fave shot. You may not be able to tell, but this tree is TALL! I had to sprawl on the dusty ground to take this shot, and still I am not able to catch more of its base.



This particular tree is scary-shit. Look how its roots dwarf me? Utterly gross and spectacular at the same time.


If you look closely, there are actually two trees entwined. Sadly one has died and it was chopped off. In fact, several trees have been chopped off due to decay. Much of the temple of Ta Phrom and Preah Khan has also fallen to ruins, with some entrances blocked by fallen stone slabs. Real pity.



Irene and Kat who had visited these temples three years ago said there were so much destruction now.

I read somewhere that the temples rest above a water table, which is slowly but surely depleting. Without proper water management and conservancy, the water table will be be emptied and the land would not be able to support the massive stone temples. Along with daily visits by SO many people, the temple would just collapse.

If things are not done to salvage these ancient structures soon, our children may not even get to see these majestic temples.



The walkways leading to the temples are often lined by massive stone statues. Many of these statues have had their head hacked off. Our driver told us that the Thai soldies from waaaaaay back did that so sell or to keep. Tsk tsk.



That's one of the walkways leading to the Elephant Terrace, named so because of carvings of elephants on its walls. However, we did not spend much time here.

While I was at the temples, I also found time to look at the wares sold along the streets by the locals. Most stalls sell sandstone carvings and paintings of Angkor Wat, Bayon and Apsaras, as well as Cambodian silk scarves.

I ended up buying two slabs of sandstone carvings for USD$6 cos the stall keeper looked so genuinely forlorn and said that he has been there since early morning and I was his first customer. I'm a weakling. If he was acting, he should join Hollywood.

And of all things, I also bought a book on the Pol Pot regime for USD$7. It helped lull me into slumberland every night. I am still fighting to complete the second chapter. Gah!

Apart from my history excursions, I also went round the old town on a cyclo, much like the Thai tuk-tuk. For USD$2, I got ferried to the old market and also enjoyed a complimentary facial exfoliation from the sand flying into my face.

Take the car - always. Siem Reap is too dusty.


Khmer cuisine is generally nice. I love the Amok Fish, which taste like milky Tom Yum gravy. Slurp! I would say Khmer food is a nice cross between Vietnamese and Thai food. But Kat says the Cambodians are strongly proud of their cooking, and would insist that the Viets and Thais stole their recipes.

Whatever. Nobody will ever know who copied who.

Apart from the cheaper restaurants down Pub Street (a stretch of pubs and restaurants frequented mostly by Caucasians and tourists), we also tried this fab place called Viroth's. I don't know its address. I just know it is within driving distance from Pub Street and is highly recommended by the staff at Angkor Palace Resort & Spa.



The staff wasn't lying! The ambience is soothing and the food is great! The pricing is twice as expensive than the Khmer restaurants down at Pub Street, but absolutely worth every cent.

And when we aren't eating, we spent the night drinking!

In Touch (also at Pub Street) is another good place to slurp your booze and laze your bum. Music is just nice to allow easy conversations.

The cocktails are also cheaper than what you would find in a place of similar standards in Singapore. For example, a Long Island Tea costs only USD$4!

We loved In Touch so much, we went there for two consecutive nights!

On the second night, we spent three hours downing cheap Angkor beer, listening to the live band and playing cards. And our bill was only USD$5.

Irene thought the meagre amount was hilarious for a place this comfortable

Do visit Siem Reap before commercialisation sets in and prices starts to soar. Even now, USD is the currency being used by tourists!

Not everything is cheap. Quality hotels there can get quite dear, and a can of Coke from a roadside stall can cost you USD$2! Bugger.

But I want to go back again soon. This time with Josh!

So This Is Christmas

Christmas came quite early this year, and brought much fun and pressies along with it.

While I was away in Siem Reap, the office celebrated an early Christmas luncheon at Raffles Hotel Despite my absence, I was drawn in the lucky draw to win ... *drum roll* ...a vacuum cleaner.

Wow. How exciting.

It is rather rare for me to win anything in a lucky draw. Till date, I have only won twice in a lucky draw, and on both occasions, the prizes were things I do not need.

My first win was at a bridal show at Pan Pacific - 12 sessions of manicure and pedicure. At that time, my nails were chewed to the bone.

And now, this vacuum cleaner. Gah.

But I enjoyed some real cool stuff too. A lovely Marks & Spencer food hamper delivered to my home from my employer! Love it!




There was a box of my fave M&S choc-coated biscuits and sinful quality chocs, among other goodies. Of course, good things must share-share.

So I split my glorious load with my parents, Aunt Linda and Joshie baby's parents. And Joshie kept urging me to quickly be done with the photos so he could attack the choc-coated biscuits. And when he finally got his hands on the biscuits, he grinned from ear to ear like a baby. So cute! I wish I could coat him in chocolate and gobble him up!

My colleagues were also a fun bunch and surprised each other with delightful little gifts.



Wanjun hand-made this sweet little gift box, depicting a stuntman dressed up as Santa and a funky reindeer which is executing some Cirque du Soleil moves while being hung from the ceiling.



Tess also planted smiles on everyone's faces with cheerful flowers in pretty funky vases. I love her flowers! Her flowers inspired me to pack up my dull, cluttered desk and inject some personality into my space. My desk is a disgrace. There are files and more files on it, along with stacks of papers, a million pieces of Post-its, and empty Coke cans.

I need to Karenalise my space! I need to pepper it with PINK stationary and pics of Joshie darling and myself!

Samuel gave me an uber cute Hello Kitty watch. It is PINK!

I would also like to thank Wendy for the adorable paper clips, Caroline for the necklace from Sri Lanka, Raini for the bottle of Lavendar essence and for telling me to let loose once a while (yes, I know!), Whey for that nice K keychain, Jacinta for her homemade mini logcake, and everyone else not mention here. :)


On Saturday, Joshie and I headed to my Uncle Henry's place for a cosy Christmas dinner with maternal family.



The culinary spread was wonderful!

The caterer used to run a restaurant at the Eurasian Association clubhouse serving fab western cuisine. Uncle Henry had asked them to specially cater for our party since we are all in love with their food.

Where there is good food, there must be good wine. Uncle Henry really knows how to live life!


For Christmas eve, darling and I chose to spend time away from the typical partying crowd. So we headed for Soo Han's new Korean restaurant and bar at Clarke Quay. It serves Korean food in semi-fine dining style, and I must say, the food is great and the ambience gorgeous!

We have already gone there twice this week! :)
Great for dates! We are even considering holding our engagement party there!



If you think that Korean food is what you ate at Seoul Garden, you need to be reeducated - quickly. Head to Park10, opposite Kandibar.

We had a one-litre bottle of magnificent sake to share between us. It was one of the better sake we have had - sweet and smooth to drink. And since the alcohol taste isn't apparent, we went through the bottle too quickly.

Coincidently, my associate publisher and her man popped by after midnight! So we sat together, downing yet another bottle of sake since ours was already cleaned out.

With the bunch of us around, Soo Han was in the mood for champagne. Yay!



Bloody hell. I tell you, that sake is real potent stuff, man! Trust the Japs to come up with killer things.

Gah! To think that earlier on darling had grumbled that the sake tasted so weak, it seemed that he was guggling water. Its effect only kicked in much later, and we were both very woozy by 2am. I could hardly walk straight although my mind was still very much awake.

We kept walking into each other as we headed to the carpark.

Needless to say, Joshie darling was in similar state - and he still had to drive home. It was a good thing that he only drive safe and within speed limit when he is intoxicated.

Amazingly, we just missed a road block near our house. The police were clearing out as we approached. Phew!

Jeez, I think the sake has some sort of timed-release alcohol. I am still woozy now and my head has been pounding all day.

And for today, we had a Christmas luncheon, hosted by Joshie's eldest brother - yes, the Thomas & Friends fanatic.

I refused to buy his toddler son toys, and got the kid a book of fairytales instead. Education is key, people! Of course, the little one did not seem very excited when he opened the gift. The book I gave paled in comparison with all the other big ass toys the child got from others. Gah... the benefits of reading will never be known by young children.

My mom used to make me read the dictionary ALOUD when I was in primary school.

Before we left, Joshie's brother gave us a brochure on Thomas & Friends toys, saying, "You can see the complete range of Thomas & Friends railway set in here."

URGH! Alright, alright... I'll get your son a Thomas & Friends toy the next time, ok?

Some Ramblings

Yes yes, I know.

I should be working, not blogging at this hour of the day. But heck, half the office has gone on leave! And hell, Christmas is approaching! How to work, you tell me?

In fact, the big question is: Why am I not on leave as well?

Frankly, I don't know why am I so anxious about being in office to make sure that preparations for the coming ASEAN event is smooth when most of my partner organisations have gone off to wear santa hats elsewhere in the world. Or why am I pushing those 2007 marketing collaterals to finalisation when my sales and editorial team are missing in action.

For all the other miserable souls left in office, we have decided to wear santa hats, reindeer ears and other festive things like log cakes and stuffed turkeys on our heads to get into the moooood.

Actually, we should pass around some eggnog and beers all morning to really get us into the mood. By the way, how does eggnog taste like? The name itself does not sound very appetising, although Homer Simpson loves it.

Actually, I do have a lot of fun things to share with you - my Siem Reap trip, the mound of little gifts I had gotten from my sweetest-ever colleagues, and some other fun things I had encountered over the past few days. But I have no motivation to prep the photos. I just want to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling the moment I get home.

I'll do it over the weekend. I promise. Even if I'm dead drunk and hurling my intestines over the sidewalk, I swear I'll still find my way home and write about all the good things I mentioned above.

Come to think of it, I've never gotten pissed-drunk in my life. I have never thrown up all over my clubbing mates, danced like a monkey on the podium, taken drugs, or woken up next to a dog-ugly stranger the morning after. Tsk tsk. I'm so sanitized.

In fact, I suspect I am a weird-shit.

I don't fancy Karaokes, bowling or play pool like my peers. I can't swim or cycle to save my life. If I dance, William Hung will be traumatised.

I love attending lectures although I hate the fact that they are often held in the morning. I love ploughing through my text books dead in the night when everyone else is fast asleep and all is silent. I love the adrenalin exams bring!

Yes. I am a freak. *clap* *clap*

One last thing before I end this darn post and force myself back to completing the rate cards for my China publications - I just learnt that students are reading my Blog! And they even told their teacher about it!

Phwaaa! When will our education minister Mr Tharman Shanmugaratnam start to eye my Blog arr? Then will I need to censor my articles?

Bad idea.

Too Much A-Do About Ethan's Gift

My future bro-in-law is really starting to get on my nerves.


There will be a little Christmas luncheon at his place on Christmas Day itself, and he has been sending text messages to Joshie and his elder sister, telling us what to buy for his little son.


Now, I do adore baby Ethan and buying the little one gifts would be my pleasure.


But bro-in-law says we should buy Thomas & Friends for little Ethan. And he does not say that only once. He has been sending reminder text messages to Joshie over the past two days, even specifying which model to buy.

Mutants.

URGH!


Telling us once is enough. Not repeatedly.


I know sharing a wishlist with friends and family allows convenient gift-shopping. But please stop with the endless reminders to buy Thomas & Friends!

What's so nice about Thomas & Friends? It is a freaking man-train hybrid. It is a monster!


This fella is super protective of little Ethan. His son is not allowed to be exposed to TV shows or games which involves fighting, monsters and car racing. Even The Incredibles is deemed dangerous.


Sheesh! He has tougher guidelines than the Singapore's censorship board dah!

Yet despite that, he approves Thomas & Friends. It should be classified as a monster. Trains don't have human faces. Humans don't have bodies of a train. Thus it should also be banned along with The Incredibles.

If my future bro-in-law sends another such text message, I'll go right out and get a Living Dead Doll for the boy.

I bet the boy will absolutely love it.

How Does One Get Dengue Fever

Whey just shouted across the almost empty office, "One Singaporean died from Dengue fever after visiting Angkor Wat! Karen, you better go see a doctor!"

I got a shock. Not because I had just visited Angkor Wat, but because the office was rather quiet and her shouts were unexpected.

"But I don't feel itchy anywhere," I replied.

"Still it is best you go for a check-up. No joke. Better go now!" She insisted.

I paused a while, seriously pondering her suggestion and getting increasingly worried by the second. Then I realised that I don't even have a mozzie bite from Siem Reap.

WTF. Scare myself for nothing. Tsk.

Nice Weather!

Yay! We have all slipped into the cold wet season!

'Tis the season to be screwin'. Fa la la la la la la!

Cold rainy days are best spent under the blankie, rubbing each each up to build some heat. Joshie and I had to drag ourselves inch by inch out of bed this morning because it was raining so darned heavily and it felt too good to be lying in bed.

And Joshie's skin felt so much smoother when it is cold! I had to resist chomping on him.

I dun wanna go to work! Not on a screw-worthy day!

If the government wants more babies, they should pass a law to proclaim all rainy days a public holiday for married couples. Good, right? I should be a politician. Heh Heh.

Off To Siem Reap!

Finally, my Cambodia trip has arrived! And I'm dying to step on the soil at the temples of Angkor Wat.

One problem though, Monica says I may need to pay for a pass to enter Angkor Wat, costing USD$40. Bloody hell. That's quite a bit of money eh?

I may have to take up a corner in Siem Reap streets, do a little dance, sing a little song, and maybe juggle something to earn a bit more money to get me into the ancient ruins.

Or I can just buy a postcard with a pretty picture of the temples and be contented.

Last evening before I left office, my pretty Associate Publisher warned me not to go out alone. I am supposed to stay in my hotel room, call for room service and wait for them to arrive on Wednesday. Why? Cos the streets are just to dangerous for me.

Hur? When did she become such a mother? :)

Anyway, no can do. I have work to do at the exhibition site this afternoon.

Alright... boarding soon. Will write again when I return, darlings!

Flirty Old Man

I have not been to that dreaded coffee house across from my office for some time. No, it was not a deliberate attempt to avoid that middle-aged lecherous staff with his awful mop of oily hair. We just did not want coffee from that cafe.

This afternoon, however, the bunch of us wanted coffee and that coffee house was the closest one available. So I braced myself for any cheesy greetings that my "admirer" might toss at me.

Surprisingly, my usual admirer spared me from his toothy grin.

But heck, I gained the attention from another miserable-looking staff. Yes, he is middle-aged too.

What is it with me and uncles?!

This was how the reluctant conversation went:

Man: Hello. This is your tea.
Me: Yes, thanks. (Unfortunately, I made eye contact. He must be darn happy.)
Man: Be careful. Hot.
Me: Um. (No eye contact this time!)
Man: So you have your lunch?
Me: Um.(No eye contact too!)
Man: Be careful. Hot. Don't scald yourself.
Me: OK. (Eyes still strained elsewhere.)
Man: You look so cute. Every time I see you I feel happy.

My brains just fried when he said that. And because my brain was fried, my eyes found their way to his face as my grey matter tried to make sense of what he had just uttered. My eyes were glued to him far too long, causing several optical cells to go up in flames. I felt blind by the time I regained consciousness and tore my eyes away from him.

Did my colleague hear him say that? Shit. Did he really say what I thought he said? Eewwww! Was I dreaming? Eewwww! I have to be dreaming cos it was just impossibly gross to hear him say I am cute. Eewww!

Why? Why me?

As if that was not enough, he sort of winked at me when he passed our table later on. And my colleague noticed it. Great. Again, my predicament gave my colleagues much fun and laughter for the rest of the coffee session.

Leave me alone... I beg you, old men.

The Perfect Engagement Party Gown

When the year end nears, no one is in the mood to work.

But I still have to come to work to get 2007 events going. So in the midst of banging out plans and logistical instructions to my suppliers/partners, my mind gets drawn away to all things wonderful on the Net.

Including this:

I'm SOOOO gonna wear this for my engagement party. It has all the elements of perfection - it's black, it's lacey, and it's sexy.

And in Singapore's hot weather, this dress will definitely keep me cool.

Karrot's Joints Go A Creakin'

Shit. I'm falling apart.

My knees ache when I climbed the stairs this morning - that's happening too soon!

My feet hurts after combing Orchard Road for only two hours.

And my right elbow has been driving me nuts. It has been aching for some time, but the intensity of pain has recently upped a few notches.

Few months ago, my elbow would sting a little if I reached opposite and touched the left side of my neck. Now, a sharp pain would run right up my shoulders and down my wrist if I were to do that.

Doesn't seem like a biggie, eh? Afterall, why would anyone need to touch the left side of their neck with their right hand, anyway?

But with this newfound torture my body has decided to inflict upon me, I realised how routine actions would now make me squirm in pain.

When I pull on a shirt, I cannot adjust my collar with my right hand.

When I wash my hair, I cannot wring the water out of my hair with my right hand.

I cannot bring my hair together into a ponytail with my right hand.

When I moisturise my face and neck, I cannot do so with my right hand.

When I lie on my side, I cannot hug my pillow with my right arm.

In fact, no matter how I lie, I have to keep that bloody arm straight. Who the hell sleeps with their arms stick-straight? Only corpse do.

It was freaking uncomfortable trying to sleep with my arm straight so I couldn't sleep. Hence I insisted on finding my perfect sleeping position, which involves bending my right arm. And by doing so, I got a backache and a dull headache, which of course, deprived me of a restful sleep as well.

So I spent the whole night cursing.

And when it appears that I have finally managed to fall asleep, the blistering alarm clock went off. And Joshie being the def leppard that he is, did not even stir. So the screaming clock went on and on, until I joined in the screaming. Only then did Joshie spring up and shut the clock.

Why didn't I shut the alarm since it was pissing me off so much? Because I am an angry ogre, ready to fling the clock out of the window and kill some unfortunate beef-eater passing by under my window. So I rather not get outta bed to silence the clock.

You know what? Just chop off my right arm.

P.S: Piss me off when I'm pissed, eh? One stoopid telemarketer for Novotel group just called me to sell me a membership card. But she called me by a wrong name and wasted my time trying to spell out the various hotels managed under the Novotel group worldwide. Gah! Of course I know which hotels are under Novotel! I'm in the travel trade, goddamnit! And when I told her I ain't keen, she mumbled, "Hur." and hung up on me!

I wish she gets rebellious elbows.

Of Toilet Smells & Sound-proofed Cubicles

I have just returned from the toilet and remembered that there are two things I have always wanted to write about but forgot. One, the toilet's special air freshener. Two, the lack of sound-proof walls.

The air freshener in my office's toilet smells like one of those Ralph Lauren cologne my daddy always use. No wonder I had always thought that the smell is oddly familiar.

Either Ralph Lauren has gone into hygiene products, or some toilet hygiene supplier has snuck up with an imitation of that branded sniffs.

Anyway, the darned air freshener is displaced via a timed squirter hung right above the hand towels dispenser. And that hand towels dispenser is placed next to a big-ass mirror which I love. So I always risk smelling like my dad or the office toilet (whichever is worse) when I admire myself in the mirror far too long.

Second matter: Why didn't anyone think of using sound-proof materials for toilet cubicles?

I would love to let out a string of loud, rattling farts that are absolutely music to my ears. But what is music to my ears, may not be so to my neighbour (whoever she may be) in the next cubicle. The poor woman in the next cubicle might suffer an immediate case of constipation once she hears my anal recital.

Isn't it ironic that we are granted privacy in an enclosed cubicle for our expelling needs, yet we cannot eject air too loudly for fear of offending anyone else sharing the toilet?

Bloody hell! Defecating is supposed to be a stress-free biological activity - unless you have not been eating enough fibre and is paying for it. Yet I have to constantly worry about farting in the midst of defecating, especially when I note that someone else in within aural proximity. I can't keep my arse clenched for too long?! It is tiring, OK?

Oh wait! What if we are allowed to fart as loud as we want because nobody really gives a shit? Sheesh! What if I am just thinking too much?

Someone should write a book on toilet etiquette.

Getting Ready For Zouk Out!

Zouk Out is coming. And I've never been to one before. Maybe I might go to this one. Maybe I might not.

Whether or not Zouk Out gets my money depends entirely on whether I could master some sleek dance moves in time for it. You see, I can't dance to save my life.

But what great luck! I chanced upon some great dance videos on Mr Brown's site. You really need to lay your eyes on these videos he featured in his post. Super cool shit.

I shall dedicate two hours every night to learn these moves.

I bet I'll steal the thunder from any celebrity DJ invited to spin at Zouk Out, man!

What The Heck Are Hiccups For?!

I would like to ask Mother Nature: Why, oh why did you create hiccups?

I was plagued with the accursed hiccups suddenly in the evening. And it was a torturous set of hiccups because it kept clashing with my coughs and sneezes. I sounded awful. Thank god I was with Joshie, so I did not care about him thinking that I sounded like some gasping animal.

Can you imagine when is the worst occasion to get the hiccups?

When you are going on a date with the man/woman of your dreams for the first time.

When you are being interviewed for your dream job.

When you are having sex.

But what's worse than getting the hiccups during sex? Getting no sex at all.

How the heck did I link hiccups with sex? I don't know.

I must be getting not enough of it, which explains this senseless post.

I should stop now and go jiggle my booty in Joshie's face. Maybe this might just set my thoughts straight.

Meeting An Old Friend

Joshie baby declared a boys nite-out with his friend last Friday last minute. Bugger. Where to find dates at 4pm on Friday itself?!

Since my baby ditched me for the boys, I shall go seek out my friends for my own beer sessions then!

Unfortunately, most people would already have had their Friday nite plans worked out by evening. And I ruled out all my attached girlfriends - I bet they would already have plans.

Still, I asked around.

Cousin Nora has yoga that night.

Aaron was already with his buddies.

Big Joe had also his own plans.

Gabriel was very keen... but it appears to me that he was also keen on something else after drinks. It pisses me off when he keeps hanging on to the past, thinking that he still has a chance at converting me into his sex buddy. I'm so over and done with him! Obviously three years apart did not straighten out his childish thoughts. So I cancelled drinking plans with him.

Then I remembered Alvin! My dear friend since Primary school! We were also secondary schoolmates. I have always wanted to catch up with him, but my schedule has never allowed the opportunity. This was a good time and I popped him a text message, inviting him out for drinks. He replied very quickly and said, "I own a bar. So why would you wanna go elsewhere when you can come over to my place for drinks?"

Right. I totally forgot. Alvin owns a bar. How stoopid to ask him out for drinks.

There, my plans for the night was settled. Complimentary drinks and good company with Alvin. How pleasant.

When I saw him, I was surprised (pleasantly) at how he looked now. I have not seen him for the longest time and suddenly I realised that he has lost that school-boy image I had always retained in memory. He was now a grown man with very sexy dark eyebrows!

Heh, Alvin if you are reading this, give yourself a pat on your back. :)

According to Alvin, I used to scare him and made him cry. I swear I do not remember a single such event. I do remember slipping off his showlaces in class - he used to sit behind me. How I managed to do that, I have no idea. But I'm sure he feigned ignorance and let me.

It is amazing how people change. Who would have thought that little Alvin would be his own boss at such a young age, running two pubs and a Karaoke place? Lucky fella.

Alas, we didn't get to talk much because he has work to do and was constantly being distracted. Yet it was strangely comfortable being there and watching him work, directing his staff to get things done, and chatting up his patrons.

I suppose, there will always be a particular friend whom you never need to meet up and talk everyday to maintain a bond. Alvin would be that sort of friend for me.

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On other matters: I changed my Blog's look again. Black, red and pink are still my faves, so I ditched the carroty orange and green skins only after a few days. The brightness gave me a headache. Gah.