Reinforcement

Put on my new cop copine blouse today. Looked in the mirror. Darn, this one really is like a maternity blouse. Made me look as if I was 6 months pregnant with its billowing puffy waist. Nevermind, I thought. It's fashionable to look a little different, a little more adventurous, cutesy.

At the office, pantry aunty comes over and tells me, "Miss, can see you put on weight eh? Yah last time when you first joined the company you were slim and small waisted, now can see your waist bigger leh. Your butt also bigger". :O Huh. If pantry aunty noticed, that means I'm really piling it on. Couple of days back when I weighed briefly at the scales I was an eye popping weight I've never been at before. It's official. I'm heavier than YP. gawd. New office colleagues today came over and quietly whispered, "eh, how many months u pregnant ah?".

Fat waisted jokes aside, I do look like I'm a pregnant woman in this getup. But guess what, no one in the MRT or bus, offered to give up their seats to this 'pregnant' lady. So much for a gracious society. Not.

Obsessions

300 rippling, muscular, gorgeous, manly men. Ummm, up till now those well defined 6 or 8 packs abs are still haunting me. Drool. Major drool. Wouldn't mind watching the movie again. This time in a gold class lounge maybe. Did I mention their rippling muscles? Whoa. Mmmmmmmm. Slurp. Imagine if I could live in a city where men walked around clad only in their cape and loincloths. Not just any men. But manly men. Muscled men. Broad shoulders, tight arses (oh did I mention that beautiful shot of the naked arse in the moonlight?). Wooooohoooo. Yum.

Veron's baby first month celebration today. Went shopping for a last minute present. Prices at Tiffany's baby gift section is astounding. $570 for a photo frame the size of my palm. Goodness, I could buy 2 Tiff pendants for myself for that price. What price children these days. Thank goodness I only need to raise dogs. But then, no one, even myself, buys tiffany for my dogs. Aiyah, want to buy, might as well buy for me. I will appreciate it on my dogs' behalves. Heehee. Speaking of gifts, I still owe 2 of the tekka gang their belated bday presents. And that reminds me, YP still owes me one too. :P

Did I already mention how I love those spartan men and their manly muscles?

Yummy.

Gluttony

Gluttony is when one sacrifices going to yoga in the name of playing host to a group of aussie and kiwi colleagues and joining them at a brunch. Not that it hurt going to the Four Seasons, where brunch was a kingly $85 for the non-alcoholic like me. All on company expenses of course. So my sacrificing wobbly arse sat there at the Four Seasons lounge for a good 3 hours, while I paced myself through the buffet line. Multiple helpings of tiramisu and dark chocolate aside, I did down several rounds of fresh fruit juice. Guess that makes me feel a little better. The evening before, C and I went over to Lau Pa Sat to satisfy a satay craving. Point to note - stall 1 Fatman satay is really bleh, I think they were sooooo much better at the old satay club before. Now their satay just tastes like minced flour-y paste on skewers. Yuck. We didn't even finish our 30 sticks, I made C go to stall 6 and yes, the last 15 sticks of satay made us both very happy.

Lots of mozzies in the house lately. Something must have given birth to hordes of these flying suckers lately. How many eggs can 1 mozzie lay? Do they lay and hatch eggs multiplying in the hundreds like those alien monsters in Hellboy or Aliens? Ugghh. Days ago as I was in the bathroom I spied a giant mozzie on the wall, and I immediately reached out to smack it. Of course it was a gut reaction. Of course I failed to realize I was wearing a swarovski ring. Of course my very pretty amber ring smashed into pieces on hard contact against the tiled wall. Of course the mozzie escaped scot free. Of course now I am amber ring-less. What else can I say about my poor hand-eye coordination? C rolled his eyes. Mozzies probably laughed at my stupidity. Duh.

300

300 good looking, ripplingly muscled men with washboard abs, tight butts and pectorals so firm one can just ogle at their broad chests for hours. Actually the word would be "goggled". Oh yeah, what a visual feast. 300 half naked men clad only in loincloths and a cape for 2hrs, certainly made good visual entertainment. Did I mention those rippling muscles?? *goggle goggle*. Muscles and bulging body parts aside, 300 is a very entertaining show. I wouldn't have minded watching this one at Gold Class.

At home, I supposed C tried to replicate the heroisms of the spartans by attempting to rescue me from a gigantic fat lizard which was lounging at the kitchen sink. Whilst I jumped and shrieked, C valiantly attempted to remove it by encouraging our reptilian friend to climb onto the kitchen broom. which he shortly then tried to place the lizard onto a wall outside the kitchen window. Except for reasons unknown to me, the fling of the broom caused the lizard to splat heavily on the walls outside, and for reasons unknown, said reptilian failed to stick his sticky paws onto the walls for a good grip. End of the story was, lizard fell 5 storeys to the ground. OUCH. Major Ouch. Hey I don't fancy lizards, but I got nothing against that one, and I felt a little indignant at it's treatment. And now it seems like we have a really dead, or very concussed lizard somewhere on the ground floor. Ouch.

Oww my aching..

On sat I attempted my first level 2 yoga class in over 3 months. Hatha 2 was not something difficult for me before, but it IS something of a challenge for me now. Naturally I don't have that much core strength anymore to hold chaturangas for even 6 counts before I start huffing away, and yeah, a few vinyasa sun salutes is already enough for me to call it quits. Stamina has taken a big nosedive, yep. Not surprisingly I woke up today with a sore body. Thank goodness for a 90 min massage by my fav therapist, it still aches but much less. As we say in hokkien, "lau leow lah".

Speaking of nubile bodies Nicole and I went to watch the day event of a local dancesport competition. Quality of the contestants are so-so only, but there were some noticeable highlights from the small number of european participants which included a Paris Hilton lookalike, a Brad Pitt lookalike, a Hot pink lady and a Zebra lady. These europeans are really good, latin dance is in their blood. No wonder asia partipants have always paled in comparision, there is something maybe in the genetic makeup of asians, we just cannot shake our bon bons nor dance with attitude like these ang mohs can. So angmohs have bigger butts, bigger boobs, bigger waistlines. But these angmoh's bon-bon can shake like an earthquake on richter scale 8. Here is one event, that if one is a marie france or expressions customer, I am pretty sure one will not be able to demonstrate dance abilities to the maximum. All the stick insect asian contestants are like...wahlau...stick insect arms, bland expressions, no chest, no butt, yes we see some flabby waists but...sheesh...all move like stick insects. Here is one show where we say, "show us some butt!" anytime. Even got a few 'lau hiau" senior participants that are half quite good. I mean, at 50+ and most of the males looking like the lau gangster cum karaoke cum lounge club ah beng, already not bad leow lah.

When will it be my turn? Hopefully not when I'm 50 and qualify for lau-hiau status.

Cows dun dance?

Whines of fat

So my pineapple tart indulgence, lack of exercise and regular yoga, and junk food snacking lifestyle has finally made it's presence felt. These few days as I looked in the mirror I belatedly realise my face is now rounder, fuller and cheeks chubbier than usual. I can hardly see my chin anymore. Of course, the flabs around the waist are also more pronounced, the 'hamburger layers' more like a big mac than a fish fillet these days. The last straw - a male colleague came by and bluntly asked, "eh, you put on more weight eh? Can see your upper arms flabby leow". O....K...... I pride myself on lean, strong, toned upper arms, my biceps well toned, and triceps. But now after months of slack, nearly nonexistence yoga push up practices, the biceps are softer,, and the triceps are now the dreaded Kimono-sleeves. Yes they wiggle, they flap about when I shake my arms. Today in yoga class as I observed myself in the mirror, I noted with a little horror when I raised my arms that my upper arms are indeed bigger and flabbier than before since having lost muscle tone. GASP.

Ok this whole blog entry is just dedicated to my whinings of flabby body parts. Can't help it, I'm female after all. :P

Arrgh. Better get my wiggly arse moving back to regular yoga pronto. Speaking of wiggly, it's not only wiggly, it's growing SIDEWAYS. More gasps.

OM Flabby Moo.

Silence

What an amazing difference a day without emails make. All peace, quiet, and happy solitude. No interruptions, no distractions, no frustrations. My email programme got corrupted somehow, and needed a day for the helpdesk to fix it. So I had a day to idle, had time to actually clean my desk, clear my cupboards, do all my filings, and complete all my other work that I couldn't get to. The only thing was I could not send emails (I did not mind not receiving any), but otherwise, wah. What a lot of difference not having emails make. Much more efficient, so much happier. For the first time in 3 months, I was able to catch the 6.05pm bus to yoga. This is the first weekday yoga in months. Amazing, and felt so good.

Speaking of yoga, those rolls of fat around the waist....aieee. Even a yogi friend commented diplomatically, how I look like I "put on some". Ahem. Monday I wore pants to work, only to find it very tightly cinched at the waistline. Needless to say, rolls of fat were spilling over. Sigh. And those pants were fairly new.

"Enuff about the fats. I heard a rumour our new found Red Riding Hood is a possible carnivore too. 6 of our new fish kampung community friends mysteriously went missing on day 1 upon arrival into the tank. All the discus fish were poker faced, no one gave a clue. Sigh, and here we go again.....

Sunk costs

In corporate finance, sunk costs are irrelevant. The experts say, forget about it, just move on and figure out if the future is worthwhile. Monies invested in the past are dead and gone. I wonder if the same can be applied to relationships and emotions. There's probably a lot more truth to it than we will admit; friendships once so valuable become lukewarm, emotions invested in a relationship does not guarantee a happy future, monies lent and spent are monies one should expect never to see again (except in one's dreams). So perhaps the question is - if sunk costs are dead and gone, then what next? What for the future?

There was this famous taiwanese actress turned millionaire businesswoman turned nun, because she figured out that all things in life a transient. Actually the same for yoga, the more yoga one does, and the more yoga scholarly texts one studies, we eventually come to know that all things will be as they should be, they come to a full circle, and yes, all things are transient. That said, $80 durians are dead and gone, and well on their way to being digested in ours (and dogs') tummies. Can nuns eat durians ah? It's considered vegetarian right??

The thing about love and sacrifices, as I mentioned in the previous entry, is that for all the sacrifices we make we don't expect rewards, but only not to be taken for granted. Often as we all get bogged down by the daily routines and the demands of living a life, expectations become rooted. Doing things because you want to, vs doing things because you are expected to. Where does it start/ stop? Let's switch roles for a change, maybe we'll understand and appreciate each other better. YP's latest entry reminds me of how my dad would come home, lie on the couch the rest of the night and expect the household to run by itself (or by mom's invisible hand). My brother pretty much does the same thing. So does YP's beloved hubby. Is it written in the genetic makeup of the men, that women are expected to extend their invisible hands everywhere? Why doesn't someone do the laundry, or iron or clothes, or mind our babies/ dogs, and fetch me a darn cup of water for a change? All deserve to be spanked with a kitchen ladle. :P

Sunk OM Moo.

Ding Dong the Witch is dead!

The wicked witch is dead. Yep, with lots of fanfare and great aplomb the wicked Cindy finally got so miffed she decided to plot a great escape from the red alcatraz bucket. She heaved and ho and flung herself with the mightiest might, broke through the netting on top of the bucket and sailed through the air inhaling her taste of freedom. She apparently didn't calculate that there is no water outside of red alcatraz but the hard wooden floor. I can imagine the loud "thud!" as she landed, got concussed and finally suffocated to death. Ouch. What a way to go. But maybe she wanted it this way, all drama and diva. Of course, Concow was sleeping like a stuck pig when the drama happened, so Cindy was pretty much a kiam-he by the time he found her. She was then unceremoniously flushed down the toilet. We also lost another discus today, a fragile orange one which the witch so viciously chewed the fins off and had been hanging on a thread in the past 3 days. Methinks Orange must have witnessed Cindy's doomed flight of freedom and cackled his last breath in happiness that he finally managed to outlive the bitch. I wasted no tears - we went out to the fishfarm and bought ourselves a new community of fish to repopulate the tank. The new resident of honor is Rapunzel, a pretty, watermelon colored discus. With any luck she'll be as ditsy and as A-D-D as my dog Holly is. Hmm, come to think of it, Rapunzel was a blondie. Maybe we'll rename her Red Riding hood instead.

Fury of a female scorned

Cindy must be pretty miffed by now, last I heard she was busy populating the red bucket with loads of dung. I wonder if she seems to realise she's swimming in her own bucketload of shit. Eeeuuw. But I guess she must have laid a curse on us, being furious about being isolated. What was it in the fairy tale about a wicked stepmother with a bad poisoned apple? Concow was the first victim from a massive toothache after his filling dropped out - whilst eating a honeycomb crunch. Huh??! He had to endure a 2 hr wait at the dentist's trying to squeeze in an appt to fix the tooth, and not more than 24hrs later, filling dropped out again. Double huh huh. Our dentist does good work, but Cindy's curse is all voodoo. Me on the other hand, stepped out of the house to be immediately hit by the mother of all headaches - a flash of bright light and a hammerlike pain between the eyes. Not a good thing when I'm in the middle of Orchard road and have to keep my eyes peeled for the nearest trashbin or side drain in case I had to barf. I haven't had migraines twice in a week, but apparently since the Cindy red bucket incident, Hmmm. Yes I admit I'm a whiny, complainy, bitch with a mean attitude. Con's mother is even more diva power than I. But as we all realised, the most ultimate supremo queen bitch of them all - voodoo Cindy.

Speaking of bitch, being goody two shoes doesn't pay. YP gets abused by her family, even her young son. Some spanking is obviously in order, hubby obviously deserves a good smack on the head with the kitchen ladle. Love is about sacrifices but folks need a good smacking once in a while to remind them not to take things for granted.

Kick-ass OM.