he and she

Since Diablo 3 is out, I thought I'd take my ukulele down from above my TV shelve and start practicing.

For the record, I like Diablo 3. Compared to Denny's current magic cards game, I like Diablo 3. I just also really like the idea of playing aniti-climax songs while he is into his dark computer game. Like 'Tonight, You Belong To Me'. Denny calls it "your(my) crazy song" after I made him listen to the version by Patience and Prudence. I sing it all the time. It's the only song that I always sing other than my favourite Beatles tunes. They have all obviously grown on Denny too because he sings them along with me now, hee hee.

Regrettably, Denny will get his game tomorrow and the only song I can play, for now, is the 'Bee' song that I learnt from my guitar lessons back in the days when my mum braided my hair for school. I guess at the moment, my boyfriend will have nothing but broken pieces of the song being played repeatedly in the background.

offbeat

Yesterday was weird, I was weird. Or rather, disconnected. I said to my transport driver 'yes' when he asked how my off day was. I told a colleague that it was 5 minutes to 3 when he asked if I have had my meal. I had an unexplainable urge to call my colleague 'Sam' the whole day when his name is Kumar.

'Sam' is good. So are 'Tom', 'John', 'Ben', 'Ann', 'May' and 'June'. Everyone should get a one-syllable name just for work. Like you can call me 'X' instead of shoooo-ey-leeee. Maybe I should start introducing myself as the different alphabets that spells my name for different flights. Tommorrow I will be 'U'.

I slept at 11pm last night. And that really doesn't mean anything because I do not have fixed bed time anymore. I am wondering what I can do on a Thursday when I know I already have things that I need to but do not want to do.

Tokyo after I turned 12

Harajuku!

Calbee snacks made fresh and Tamagotchi doughnut shop.

Shibuya!

Hachiko!

Ramen right after touchdown.

Slurpssss!

#selfshot

Mini Liberty!

Favourite japanese snacks!

Amazing toilet.

I do not remember much of the shopping areas in Tokyo from the last time I was there with my folks, almost 10 years ago. I was probably too young and too obsessed with Disney princesses to spot Harajuku girls, complex toilets or the loyal dog Hachi. I was clearly still at an age where meals are forgettable and whatever my mom fed me with because I do not remember slurping sexy ramen eggs or sinking my face into cream crepes.

What I do remember are shops filled with toy vending machines, eating popsicle at Asakusa temple, freezing at Mount Fuji, throwing tantrum at the huge boring palace, the Tokyo tower and my dad hand-signing to the locals for directions. 

I also remember being even more determined to be a part of Disney after visiting Tokyo Disneyland/ sea. Even if it meant that I will be selling popcorns or sweeping the magical park for a living.

buys are bought for a reason

Here in Tokyo, I wear this "high school"-styled jacket that I had bought in Taiwan. I don't know if it was the feeling of being a little girl while on a holiday with my folks or an invisible rule to be asian-cute that I somehow constructed in my own mind after watching taiwanese TV programs, I bought it. I bought a jacket that has cartoon cloth-badges sewn all over it. 

I like cartoons, I like colours and I love girly. Girly like florals and pastel colours. But this, this does not exactly suit my usual liking. This, I was certain that I would only like whenever I am within the borders of Taiwan. I bought it anyway. Along with a few cartoon handphone pouches and a Hello Kitty spectacle frames that I had already lost on my first day back in Singapore. 

I am, therefore, glad that I found a second place and time to use this cute jacket that I, unfortunately, bought in a moment of weakness. In Tokyo, I'm entitled to be walking around comfortably in this among japanese girls who are now into applying blushers only on areas above their upper cheekbones.

And I can haz Meiji strawberry milk packaged in zee cutest way!

first taste of pepper was tasteless

In Sydney, wraps are my staples. 11 aussie-dollars full-size duck wraps from Caffe Cino at our hotel's lobby, which, I have to take the lift down and walk about 20 steps after turning right at the lift lobby to get. I will have to walk the same 20 steps in opposite direction, slot in my room card at the lift, then, open the door to a room that I think is mine to eat.

Today, they did not have duck wrap. Maybe I was too late at 2.30 in the afternoon, or maybe not, but either way there was no duck wrap. They have, however, extremely unappetizing green prawn-veggies wraps and duck meat ciabattas. I picked the monstrous wrap even though before today, I never once had any intention to consume green or red peppers in my life. Wraps have an advantage whenever I'm in Sydney, most of the time in a zonked state. I also strangely have no liking for ciabattas anywhere.

I had a chocolate muffin for dessert. I always have muffins as snack here. I have standard food and a eating pattern, only in Sydney. And only in Sydney, I type away like I don't have to wake up for flight in 1.5 hour's time. #fucked

Oh, I learnt to hashtag. Just in case you didn't notice my long, desperate attempts on instagram to get 'likes'.

give me a unicorn instead of a pot of gold

Today is the last of my 8-days unofficial leave. 12 days if I include the days in London. 10 days if I count 2 cycles of breezing through 6-hours at training centre as work. 6 days if I don't include the days in London.

I had a good time with folks, with boyfriend, with friends, with my loots from London and, as Denny would say, a really good time with the beds! He is bewildered by how much I can sleep but I think I know it's because I used too much energy trying to make him stay still while I search for his sternum -to polish my CPR skills. I also had time to finally unwrap and start reading one of my two 3 months-old books. Heck, I even had time to doubt if my sweet training mate's dimples are real.

I am, predictably, in extremely low spirits now that my TV is rebelling as it watches me, about to have a cheese cake and a chocolate-mint ice cream for supper. It just will not let me watch Criminal Minds without constant glitches. I am counting down the last 5.5 hours of my unexpected, fairly-long break given by a certain lucky charm that I touched somewhere. I do not believe in getting used to this awful sense of dread, I will never be happy about it. Change is good, I need change. I need to activate the big squishy organ beneath my skull. I also need to replace this old Starhub setup box. Tuesday will hopefully buy me a chance to break my current cycle.

on board

I am into my 8th hour of flight back home from London, seated comfortably on a window seat with 3 pillows, my macbook on the tray table, my macbook cover and a couple of chargers on the seat next to me and a plastic bag half filled with snacks on the seat next to the seat next to me. I am typing this on 'Stickies' after my inflight entertainment system hung in the middle of my spanish learning program. I learnt that 'mi puo aiutare per favore' means a simple 'help' in Spanish. Alright, I did not actually learn. The phrase is stuck on the screen and I can copy it letter-for-letter.

So far I have done a total of 7 things. I ate, watched a Adam Sandler movie, watched Breaking Dawn, which, I surprisingly found to be better than the first movie even though it was 2 hours of watching Bella grow a tummy, I ate more, I learnt the numbers 1 to 10 in spanish, I forgotten them and I... just ate. 1 packet of chocolate hello panda, 1 packet of famous amos cookies, 2 bags of chips and everything on the breakfast tray. 

In London, I have done a total of really-you-think-i'm-gonna-count? things. On the first day I made a new friend, shopped at Oxford street, had my plan of retaking photos with Big Ben ruined because of the marathon-day crowd and the rain, saw people dressed as London's attractions running in the marathon, gave 2 pounds to a funny busker, bought colourful M&Ms in M&M's world and ate duck rice. 

On the second day, I had peanut M&Ms for breakfast, ate more duck rice with my crew, went for more shopping and watched Ghost the musical which was extremely good -visually. I have done 15 things in London, including sleep, shower, pack and trying to repeatedly say M&M quickly.

I sometimes wonder why I like to write about normal/ uninteresting things in details. I also very much like to, in every possible ways, drag my sentences. 

The cabin lights just came back on, they are about to serve the next meal with turkey cranberry pie and cheesecake, CIAO! 

-12.48AM.

halos above us

Chloe and I had an insignificant talk about ring lights one afternoon last month, with a bottle of lychee champagne and ciders that we forced opened with a pancake pan and a fork. Neither of us knew what ring lights look like or had bothered to google but they are magical if you ask us. Like custard buns. I was thinking about getting one for us so we can take obscene number of photos, of us of course, dressed in granny clothes with chocolates all over our teeth and still look presentable. At least in photos. Although I'm not sure if I want teeth on the grannies we pretend to be. I want to dress up as old Katy in 'The One That Got Away' for my first Halloween party that will hopefully happen this year. Last week Elizabeth and Jacque brought their ring light to the studio and I finally stopped imagining a tiny circular bulb with a clipper hanging on top of laptops/cameras. Theirs was huge-ass -okay minor exaggeration. So ring lights come in different sizes, I really need to have more than 2 percent interest in objects with wires. It was torture getting through photography and cinematography classes back in school, I passed mainly because I cheated. Xueli cheats in tests. And also in the unwrapping of christmas presents, I peek before it's time to open them. I want something that is not mediocre but I also want something not chunky. My ukelele is lying on top of my TV and already considered neatly stowed within reach. I also really really want a ring light now because it made us look like commercial girls in these photos. I want too much. I can't really type more right now because UFC's hardcore metal opening song is really messing with my concentration and I can't reach the remote.

drowned drowning drowned

Today is the 100th anniversary of the sinking of Titanic. I am here in Turkey, eating dried cranberries that I did not pay for, in a hotel named, well, Titanic! I have also, so far, watched the movie with the same name twice today. Three times for the part where the first officer shot himself, it was screening at the lobby when we checked in. 

For the record, I never liked the movie and I still don't. But it seems almost mandatory for this place to dedicate a channel on TV that plays only that for 24 hours daily. I just don't get why they leave me with so little, if not, almost no choice at all. It's either Titanic repeating on channel 3 or a long list of annoying channels in languages that I do not understand. Okay, there's also an English news channel that I did not favor until Rose got out of the car with Cal and her mom for the third time. I cannot take seeing a frozen young Leonardo again. Also cannot have both my palms held up and pressed against my heart for most of the movie again.

Photos of me in the same room, wearing the same outfit and holding the same serviette that came with my room service. Basically could have uploaded just one of the three similar photos but instead, I put them all up here in 'large' blogspot size.

Mehh, I can't think of a convincing excuse to defend my self-obsession. Mehh mehhhh.

Meh.

boyfriend

Denny: Baby you know in french, 'je taime' means I love you and 'mon coeur' means my love? So je taime mon coeur!

-

Me: What were the two words french terms again, baby?
Denny: Je taime and mon coeur :)
Me: But google says mon coeur means 'my heart'.
Denny: Heart means love!
Me: ANYHOW!!

The first line above was the first thing Denny mumbled to me in bed this morning. It semi-woke me up because I fell right back asleep after semi-mindlessly repeating after him. I woke up an hour later, completely forgotten how to say those french words. Latter was a text conversation in the noon. I was more clear-headed to doubt what I was taught than I was at 7am.

Denny gets very chatty right before and after bedtime. And also the in-between moments when he gets up to use the washroom. He also talks about the most random things, sometimes, he is like Discovery channel -interesting. For most of those times I could only respond with "mm?", "mm." and "mmmm.", I am quite the good-sleeper and I fall asleep fast. Except once I woke up in the middle of the night and showed him a picture of a cat.

For all the other times when I don't fall asleep instantly, we would laugh, sing, wrestle and have conversations of drunk people. Probably due to the non-alcoholic ice creams we ate. We like ice creams and we eat a lot of those. I just don't know if our favourite is Mcdonalds' vanilla cone or salted mister-brown from Daily Scoop. Or if we prefer ice cream dates to brunch dates. It is tougher to decide than to make sure that Denny the english-police will not get a chance to correct my angmoh on this blog.

I am going to call him now so he can /have to read this ;)

x

late bloomer

Recently I've been into Instagram, really into it. I have repeatedly scrolled left and right and tapped on 'Walden', 'Nashville', 'Sierra' and 'Valencia' way too many times. My friends would receive a ridiculous number of screenshots of the same picture coated in different effects on Whatsapp. Somehow, naturally, they were obliged to choose and then be asked over and over again if they have carefully considered their choices. 

I don't think anyone can figure how fickle a person I am, including me. I have never bothered to use Instagram on my previous iphone, I thought it just made photos unclear and distracting. It's like how I found guitar playing unsuited for girls when I had to take lessons as a kid, but last week, I rode the train to Little India and then walked a distance to get my first and most likely, only, ukelele. 

Some opinions never changed though, and I know they won't. My boyfriend should never have his hair grown the way it did when he was 18-20 years old. I hate my job. Live tortoises and turtles are disgusting, scary and have no real purpose on this planet. I hate my job. I hate my job.

quite pointless

My macbook is against an unfamiliar background while I type this because I have been indirectly chased out of my own room by the air-con guys who are replacing the old, water-leaking air-con. I see the stove, the fridge and the cup I left by the sink this morning that I will probably wait for mum to wash. I am right by our tiny open-kitchen because there is nowhere in the living room where I can charge my laptop without having to pull off any plugs first. Unless I sit by the short ironing board, which, I do not prefer. 

I tried to take a photo of myself with photobooth but one of the servicemen just walked in on me smiling at my white machine. Perhaps fate wants me to put up a more relevant photo. This posey photo of me was taken in February, right after I tested my new work lipstick in my room. I am missing my room. 

For no good reason, I think you should know that I am now slightly distracted with picking out the fruits bits of my pandan fruit bread.

I am three-quarters happy about being outside of my room. There is an unopened packet of 12 mini snickers next to me and the thought of no longer having to leave cloths under my air-con is strangely liberating. I could do better with a more comfortable chair now though. I realize I am one happy reason away from being three-quarters happy but I am too lazy to look back and correct my words so here's a long, redundant sentence just to make it right; I am two-third happy about being outside of my room. There.

Gonna eat the 98kcal per tiny piece of snickers now.

x

just here

mochaccino in Johannesburg, S.A.

I am currently lying on my own bed with yesterday's work make-up and a thick layer of blanket between my thighs and my burning 4 year-old macbook. I need to be educated about the importance of make-up removal and skin cleansing. Perhaps 're-educated' would be a more suitable word. I have been told too many times, by my mom, by my dad, by my girlfriends, even by my boy friends, that my face will soon rot and I will have to live my life with a chunk of swiss cheese as head. Swiss cheese -I had to google 'cheese with holes' to get that name.

I wanted to blog about burgers and fries but I thought this space needs to slow down on food after the last post. Maybe next time.

The song 'Bad Girl' by M.I.A has been playing on MTV for the past two minutes. I had my tv volume switched from 70% to 50% to 10% and it is now muted. I want a whole day that I can waste solely on updating my itunes library, it is way too outdated. I am behind the times, like my 27 year-old boyfriend who still listens to Justin Timberlake from 2006.

Meeting friends for a karaoke session at 2pm, it is now 2.15pm and I still have yesterday's work make-up on and the macbook on my lap. I should run, after this Katy Perry song. I like Katy Perry.

x

half a dozen

I spent the last 6 hours of March 25th on Beijing grounds lying on one side of the bed, watching 2 animated films about talking animals and Horatio catching 2 female gold traffickers on tv. I watched while eating a mildly-spicy floss bun and half a 500 grams box of Honey Stars in batches. I did not have a bowl so I had to pour milk and cereals into the hotel's cup, 5 times. I packed the other 250 grams into my bag with the white box of Pocky, which, I assumed the chinese characters on the cover meant 'Vanilla', and left the rest of the milk on the table next to the left side of my bed. The side I did not lie on.

The last move was a move I regretted for the next 6 hours of a new day. I was on the plane flying back home, eyes occasionally moving away from the entertainment screen to stare over at the remaining Honey Stars that I had put in the seat pocket in front. I stared because there wasn't any milk, I stared because I looked forward to eating the Honey Stars on board, with milk. I stared because I like milk and I LOVE my cereals with milk. I stared because milk is a wonderful dairy product.

I had to make up for the dissatisfaction so I moved on when my colleague asked if I wanted a bowl of shrimp-wonton instant noodles for supper. At 5am, I had a full set breakfast served. It consisted of 2 egg rolls, a chicken sausage, sauteed mushrooms, potatoes and a bun. I spread both butter and strawberry jam on the bun. My Pocky sticks also came with the thickest, creamiest coat of (I still think was) Vanilla. 

I was good after that.