Dreams

So I asked C if I should buy a car, as sometimes I get fed up with missing the bus, amongst other things. Of course, all knowing and wise guru that he is, wisely remarked that if I buy a car, I'd only be more stressed driving (true). And of course I don't really want a car, I just want something to carry my shopping load around (true). So in typical men from mars and women from other planet fashion, the snippets of our conversation went like this:

Me: ...if I don't buy a car, I can buy more shoes each month.
C: (silence)
Me: ...but if I buy more shoes, I need more cupboard space. Then I will need to buy an apartment so 1 room is pure wardrobe space.
C: ...so you gonna buy a house because you ran out of shoe space?
Me: Yes, so I will need a big wardrobe. Oh i also need a huge kitchen, my dream kitchen is a large one with all the accessories and an island in the middle. Oh I also want a huge bathroom, with a giant clawfoot bathtub, separate shower and vanity areas...
C: so you buy an apartment, no living room, small bedroom, huge bathroom, giant kitchen, and a huge wardrobe...
Me: actually, I also want a huge garden, so bis and holly have freedom to run.
C: (repeats his earlier sentence)..and you want a huge garden for bis and holly... just because you need more shoe space??
Me: ya, it's my dream home...
C: (interrupts), DREAM ON.

Next life, maybe I should just choose to be a stupid bimbo.

Organs for sale

The big hooha in the news these days is about organs for sale for the desperately need to live and can afford to pay patients. The ethical debate around it is pretty interesting, and it's possibly one of those laws (just like anal sex) that could potentially be changed in the future. Perhaps the day will come when they make gay partnerships here legal. My take on the organs for sale business is, if there's a willing buyer and a willing seller and both parties are making perfecting informed decisions, then why not. When I asked C for his opinion on organ sales - and I was expecting a smart alecky answer (to which he did not disappoint) was, "I dont' see why not. The Kueh-chap man has been doing it for years. What sort of organs you want? The kueh-chap man got".

Uh huh. What a bundle of joy he can be.

Nigella

Nigella Lawson is one of those few I consider a real woman - capital W.O.M.A.N (the other being Monica Belluci). She's beautiful, sexy, has all those womanly curves (and is not shy about it) and truly enjoys her food. Have you not watched her cooking shows? Man, oh man, it's enough to make a yogi give up a life of vegetarian living. Ahh, but one of my dreams is to be able to cook like Nigella, and yes, oh yes, that Kitchen, is my dream kitchen. Hmm, in fact, I'd dream about a house in the countryside or seaside, my own herb garden, a huge gigantic kitchen with all the latest in equipment. Ahh, but how to be yogi who tries to live the vegetarian life, yet still be a whirlwind talent over the stove? Hmm, maybe I'll turn vegan chef? I bet C has a lot to say about this. One of the joys of life is really about cooking for the people you love.

Meanwhile, there are probably hundreds of excellent food blogs around the island. These people really know how to eat. Yum.

Giving Blood

I made it! I finally donated my first packet of blood. After so many years of trying and failed attempts (one might reckon this to trying to conceive), I finally got my arse on a plastic recliner chair, needle in arm, and blood flowing like a smooth tap into a plastic packet. Yay, so I've done my bit to save the world, to save lives. Man, I feel good.

Well, at least that's some justification to putting on weight, at least I qualify to donate blood now, despite bigger butt and tummy. I console myself that it's also muscles that contributed.

But yeah, I did my part to save the world. Whoopee.

Sex and The City

I finally made it to the movie. I'm a great fan of the series and I'm truly glad the movie is finally out. In a way it puts a nice ribbon on the box of 6 seasons of endless love, joy, sorrow, incredible fashion, and yes, fabulous over the top incredulous sex. The fashion - unbelievable. The girls - incredible, solid decades of true girlfriend-ship. The sex - not a lot (maybe some censoring). The bodies - well, for girls and boys in the 40s, the bodies are great. Here's one movie I truly felt connected with, because the issues the girls face are so true of women, so true to life, and yes, materialistic, emotional, irrational. A.K.A --> Women. Men won't understand it (as I see so many guys at the theatre dutifully there to accompany their gfs), but women love it.

But what is most relevant is how many parts of Carrie & Big's relationship mirrors mine. Nearly 8 yrs and going. People ask constantly so when is the big W? Taking it a step forward maybe doesn't mean anything. Or maybe it does. Should it? What truly is, is that its just about 2 of us - him and me. Just as the movie showed, relationships are hard work. We must constantly strive for it. And I'm grateful for mine. And just as proud of C for accompanying me to this movie.

BARF Diet

Dog lovers probably think this post is about the Bones And Raw Food diet for dogs (both Bis and Holly are on it anyway). But no, in fact it's about my rather horrendous experience at OSO Ristorante just yesterday. Bunch of ex-colleagues and I were there to celebrate a birthday. #1 complaint is the restaurant is very hard to find amidst a row of wedding shops and sleazy bar joints (with thai ladies gyrating in their VS lingerie in front of our very eyes). Hey I mean, VS lingerie, great, but is competition that stiff that they have to gyrate their hips against the front door of the sleazy joints? Even Orchard Towers have more class than that.

Anyway....

#2 complaint is service is crappy. We actually had a waiter who was dripping with veiled sarcasm. So we were a table of ladies who were the only table who didn't order any wine. Is that reason to dish out lousy service? Even our requests for a small bowl to share a huge portion of their very good mushroom soup was met with snobby disdain. Ok, so you bring us a bowl, but dude, can you remember also to bring us the extra soup spoon?

#3 complaint my risotto is a tad undercooked. I resisted the urge to send it back to the kitchen since whoknowsthesnobbykitchen staff may well spit into it before popping it into the microwave. Big mistake. First spoonful into the mouth, and it gave me a nauseous feeling. I ate probably 1/3 before exusing myself outside the restaurant and throwing up into the potted plants twice. All in, I threw up 4 times. Thankfully I was gracious enough not to do it in the restaurant (poor bushes by the walkway), else snobby waiter and staff would probably have a lot to say about inconsiderate customers. I felt bad for my friends since it was a birthday celebration. Under normal circumstances I would have complained like crazy and insisted on having the risotto redone.

So while food is really quite good, save for the disastrous risotto, but the lousy service and bad risotto experience means I will never patronise Oso again. Unless I want a barf diet.

Staying Connected

I was in Charat's hatha class for the first time. It was a beautiful class which I thoroughly enjoyed, despite my initial misgivings. I should have known better, for a teacher who looks like a gentle scholar and who walks like the calm waters amidst busy surroundings, is one of deep learning and true of teaching. "Stay connected", he reminds us in his soothing and easy going way; everything is about the breath, and everything else like peace and inner calm will just fall into place by itself. How lovely these words are. Charat reminds me very much of Jason. Calm, deeply learned and meditative people are a source of wonder for me, I often marvel how they are able to achieve this state. Jason reminds us it takes many years of practice and dedication. Perhaps one day I shall be too.

Passion for Latin

Ahh but I so love Michael & Beata ever since I first saw them dance live here in Singapore several years ago. I love watching ballroom dancing; once upon a time I yearned to be able to dance like these professionals but sadly, the practicalities of life rule above all. If I had a chance next life (besides being someone's stupid, but happy and pampered Iggy) to be some hot chick dances pro ballroom and lives in a country where dancing and passion is in the blood.

Michael Wentink & Beata - Samba - Tokyo 2003

Who Am I?

The problem with women are they are just too emotional creatures. Emotions factor in everything, even if they appear aloof, cold and heartless. I came upon a personality disorder test, I have a half suspicion I am probably a good candidate for psychiatric consultation. Judging from the results of the test, I am more than likely a very good candidate for long term mental hospital and medication. The only low score was from Anti-social, which is incredulous, as I am the most anti-social person I know. Well that implies since I scored high or very high in everything else, I must be a basket case patient. Ahh, perhaps indeed my next life I should be more like a Holly. Stupid but very happy.

Sour Grapes

Work can be really difficult sometimes, think we all know that. But not because work itself is difficult, just difficult people makes things difficult. I'm probably one of those myself (as C will blankly point out). But should I really give a rat's ass if a person is emotional, easily offended, petty and spiteful? So yes person(s) are capable, but a holier than thou attitude or an Icouldn'tcareless because-i-think-you're-an-idiot behaviour really sucks.

Oh wait, did I just describe myself? Maybe its Karma coming back to me a hundredfold.

I need therapy. Anyone knows a shrink?

Or maybe I should become more like Holly, then perhaps I could get a shot at eternal happiness (and stoopidity).

Vouchers Vulture

I don't pay much attention to vouchers. I have plenty which I often overlook and forget to use. Even the Tiffany ones or Taka ones given to me months ago. At least they don't expire. But last night I learned the true power of Takashimaya vouchers. Oh so brilliantly they can be used at the luxury boutiques within the dept store. So you see, when there's an item of high end desire oh so out of reach, but on sale thanks to GSS, which still needs some consideration because the discounted price is still pricey; the discovery of the value of vouchers is like giving gold to a leprechaun, candy to a child, and food to Holly. I could not help but giggle my joy all the way out of the shop. Of course, once I see the piling bills, my giggles will be no more. But that's for later. Why not just enjoy the moment now?

Reminiscing

Met up with my poly girlfriends yesterday. I must admit I deliberately wanted to show off a bit, since last round I looked somewhat like auntie in my simple dressdown outfit whereas everyone else managed to look professional chic, trendy or stunningly elegant. Well this time round there was elegant mom, stunning but simple mom, professional chic, and..... loud maturity. Maybe I was overly much with the matching black capris, black shiny shoes, big black onyx ring and chunky onyx bracelet and the killer GJ pendant. It's screaming, "LOOK AT ME, I'm CHIC-pretend". Sigh. Seems I'm not gonna get it right anytime soon. That reminds me, when at the Bali retreat recently, at the group dinner most people were simply but elegantly resort-outfitted. I was in casual smarts, the best I could say at least I had shiny bebe blings on my outfit. *rolls eyes* Oh of course, and a stunning pair of bling bling sandals which were the most impressive part of me. Bling sandals rock, I tell you. Except the ones that fell off and tried to assasinate my ankles recently.

Shoes 'O Woe

It must be shoe-curse week. My new bling sandals cut my ankle last Sat, then on Sunday I wore another pretty pair of bling sandals, only to have its sole fall apart whilst walking in Orchard road. I kinda had to shuffle my feet to nearest incognito place and wait for C to rescue me (there was some creative thinking and planning on how to get my sandals fixed whilst I squeezed in lunch, and more shopping). Then my feet got stepped upon by Timberland boots (C's big feet), and just yesterday (monday), my old faithful Hogans split. I mean, those hogans are solid synthetic strong plastic whatever, yet I was able to split the shoe right across the middle somehow just as if a knife cut through it. Today, thankfully, nothing happened to my shoes. Would have been pretty pissed since its a proudly brand new pair of tods.

V is for Vanity

What price for vanity? So I wore my totally new, totally shiny, totally un-needed new pair of crystal studded sandals today. It's so bling that it will blind one's eyes. Yet, woe of all woes, not only did one of the large bling crystals fell out whilst shopping (leaving my new bling shoe with a gaping hole), I also ended up with 4-5 bloody cuts across the ankle. This is truly the most vicious pair of evil shoes (so pretty, but so evil).

The other V is also for victim. So my shopping devil is back, and so is my addiction to K-drama. As history foretold, my Far East Plaza fetish also returned with a vengeance. All it takes are some pretty clothes and a very convincing store owner. Before I knew it, I now possess an armful of new clothes; the heady whirlwind romance, the rush of euphoria, the honeyed words, the indulgence of vanity, and finally, the partways of money well over 4-figures. Sigh.

V is for Vicious Vengeance of Vanity Victim.

The old ways

So the shopping devil is back. And so is the KR drama addict. I'm on to Princess Hours now. Gosh it's really so good. I'm up till nearly 2am every morning watching this. My eyebags are the colour of eggplant. But nevermind. K-drama wins the day. I'm supposed to go to yoga, but nevermind, K-drama wins the day. C is aghast, I even ignore his phonecalls cuz I don't want to be interrupted watching K-drama. Ya, the addict is back.

Speaking of old, the thing with computerization and automation these days is everything needs a password. I probably have 101 different passwords, how many do I remember? probably 3. Sigh. As I sit here struggling to remember the password of a certain account, I realise, my memory is no spring chicken anymore. More like spring vegetable. Of course, the account gets locked. Password reset needed. Drats.

Resurrection

It's back. The devil in me, the mad spender, the victim shopper. Oh she of the uncontrollable urges to gravitate towards a shop with the big S.A.L.E sign, hapless victim of GSS despite absolute resolve to abstain. Within 2 days, the proud (but silly) owner of 1 new bag and 3 new shoes, all which are completely unecessary. Within 3 weeks, this bring the new bag-shoe count to 3:3. Nevermind that I actually still do not have space in my room or the shoe cabinet for any new acquisitions.

Oh woe is me. To think I was only recently reminiscing with my friends about how as a young student I would wear the same 2 pair of shoes for 2 years, using kiwi whitener to whitewash it so we could save money. And how uniforms would be purchased 2 sizes too large so I could grow into it in the years to come. We have certainly evolved.

Extinction of the Dodos

I asked this question to C, and he said, well, humans landed on the dodo bird island, the birds never seen humans and came out to say hello. Humans whacked dodo to deah. Next dodo came out, humans whacked dodo to death. Another dodo decided to see what's happening, and humans whacked dodo to death. Etcetera etcetera. I looked at C incredulously. Surely he must be kidding? He looked at me deadpan and said, haven't you heard of the phrase, "dumb as a dodo?". Duh. Alright, so he does have the rep of the purveyor of all useless info. So I checked it out on the web and so there it is. Dodos became extinct partly from human slaughter. Hmm.

The Hunt for Pasta

The quest for good pasta at 4pm really says something about italian restaurant culture. I didn't just want pasta, I want damn good pasta, the al dente type, cooked to perfection, real deal italian style, not some california pizza kitchen overcooked maggie mee. C, my hapless partner, of course very kindly drove us from paragon (on a super crowded saturday full of GSS shoppers) to Spizza at Balmoral. Unfortunately closed. Then we moved on to 6th avenue (no pasta in sight), then Namly Gardens where La Nona resides (also closed). At this point he told me point blank, "you should really just listen to me for once, let's go Holland V". I shut the hell up. At Chip Bee gardens, everything was closed, and I was about to give a sharp retort when lo and behold, Da Paoloa Pizzeria is lonely but alive. Lasagne was excellent , as was the black truffle pizza. Case closed.

On a side note, the Galerie Cho Lon is having 50% closing down sale. Lovely lovely lovely furnishings but damn, I don't have a house I could put all those things into. :(

Moral of story, don't crave for good pasta during tea break. Nearly impossible to find.