oriental in rondon

"My dear fellow, who will let you?"

2010-04-20T23:44:00.004+01:00

This is it. 4 years + 2 days since I landed on Ol' Blightey's shores. This post would've come earlier if I hadn't fcked up my router at home and lost my internets *oops*

4 years + 2 days, 1 passport, 28 countries, 75 different cities, 85 gigs (before I stopped counting). Can't complain :)

There is nothing else much for me to say :) You've read it all. Thank you everyone! Especially you, Sparkles Magoo for always providing a challenge *lol*

One last thing about being back. Yes, I've started seeing someone. He's a nicely buff young geek by the name of Daniel *grin* I pwn'd his ass on Xbox (3-0 Soul Calibur! W00t!), so there's hope for this relationship yet ;)

I'm leaving you with my fave quote from my fave book. I've always had a copy of The Fountainhead wherever I end up. I've read and re-read this book countless times. I open it when I need a reminder of myself. For those who always wondered what motivated me to do the things that I did on this blog -

"That's not the point. The point is, who will stop me?"

Indefinitely (part ii)

2010-03-25T12:01:00.006Z

When I told Rondoners I was leaving town, the number one response was, "That's soo sad!"

Erm... Not really :) I can tell you that my last 12 months in Rondon has taught me to be optimistic beyond optimism. I can tell you that I went to temple every week to ask for guidance and the courage not to breakdown. I can tell you that the only time I felt quiet and at peace was when I was in a room with my golden gods. I can tell you that I had a lot of people whinge to me about their relationships, their jobs and their lives. To the point where I just wanted to smack them and say, "Muscle up princess" :P

Got to look forward, no time to feel sorry for myself. Get over it, because it ain't going to get easier until you do. *cliche* *cliche* but it's true.

What do I loves about being back in Sydnery?

WELL, the first person I called was Boozy Floozy *grin* He made me swoon over a welcome back lunchies of tuna sashimi marinated with soy and truffle essence sauce AND a black cod marinated in white miso *swoooon* I never gets tired of that dreamy tuna... Boozy Floozy and his Missus have kept me in a constant Friday hangover state since I've been back *grin*

Immediately after were S&J, "Surprise!!! I'm back, whatcho doing?" Followed by a wunderbar evening out on the warm outdoor terrace of Ching-a-ling with the fresh-from-Japan-pow-pow de Freres and the gang (^_^) Capped off with a roast cooked with an USB temperature gauge *uh huh* at H&B's place.

Two weeks back and I'm working in the city. Won't talk about the job, but will talk about Shuai being my lunch and coffee buddy at Vella Nero :) Friday mornings definitely wouldn't be as much fun if I wasn't hungover at Vella Nero and catching up on the news with Shuai.

What's there not to love about being back?

I haven't even mentioned the magical laundry basket at home yet *grin* Oooh yeah, I loves being spoilt. After 4 years overseas, and before that, 6 years out of home - I've finally learnt to appreciate just being with my parents.

On the flipside, there are the babies. TONS of babies. It's a bit weird to be hanging out with friends from Uni, whom I used to catch the train with 10 years ago, and whose kids are now all playing together. Put me in the mix and you'll be playing the Sesame St game "One of These Things is Not Like The Other". I can now tell you about childcare rebates, toilet training and The Naughty Corner. It's still all good.

A city is what you make of it. Right now, what makes Sydnery for me, is being with those I heartses the mostest. And having the fun with them that I've missed out on in the past 4 years *big grin*

Now if only B was here...

I drinks my coffee every morn at Single Origin:

I ates at Sumalee with my visiting Rondon lovelies:

_Bestest_ eggs at Kawa:

I screamed like a girl:

(...and then I screamed some more when my Dad pretended to pick it up and chuck it at me)

If you ask me what hurtses the most about being in Sydnery, it's not having Chubby here. I swear, I can still hear him *huffing* and snoring. I can hear his nails clicking on the floorboards...

Staycation

2010-03-18T13:05:00.006Z

Living in Rondon doesn't mean you have to leave it to enjoy it :) Well, err, actually, it does mean that, but you don't have to leave the country to enjoy it *grin*

One of the best holidays I've had, is at the Lakes District. You get the freshest air, you get the greenest view. Value for hiking effort. All about 5 or 6 hours outside of Rondon.

What's a "Staycation", I hear you say? It's when there's a GFC (the one that didn't hit Australia but Australians seem to think it did... and it makes me think of KFC) and you can't afford to leave the country for a holiday. So you take a break and eksplore (my retarded "aks" key doesn't work on my MBP anymore) your own territory.

Most high-larious thing - I was the only one without hiking shoes, and I was the only one who survived without injury ;)

Anyways, enough rambling, here are some proper rambler piks :P

Here endeth my travel tales...
It wouldn't have been the same without the Ladiezzz :)
*MUAH*

Sidetracked

2010-03-18T12:50:00.002Z

"Asian in Sydnery" just doesn't have the same ring. However, here's what I'm thinking tonight.
===
I'd like to think that I'm pretty open minded and non-prejudicial. I looooves my curries. I looooves my garlic and onions. I looooves my booze. All this must reek the next day, and I wouldn't know unless you tells me.

But FFS, how can it be that bad that even though my nose is against an open window and there's half a metre between us - I CAN SMELL YOU ENOUGH THAT I HAVE TO STOP BREATHING?!?

I'm sorry to say, the stinky curry stereotype is true. You want to know how tolerant I am? I stayed in my seat until the next stop 15 mins away. *15mins* of inescapable body odour without a dirty look or word.

The other gripe I have, and I'm saying this because it seriously vexes me - total fatties on trains. I'm talking about fat to the point of I understand why it's called morbid. I'm not apologising for thinking this either. You know what? I eat. I loooooves my food. If you look at my genetic history, my father's side is filled with pot bellies, size 16-20, zipper club triple bypasses, bowel problems, secret diabetes and hypertension. My point is, in our time and generation - we know better. I've learnt from it and I don't eat lard as an everyday food like my Dad used to (yes, it's nommy). You don't fcking eat to the point where you waddle. You don't fcking eat to the point where a seat for three is a competition between me and two fatties.

Yes, that's what my everyday mornings on the train are like.

An evil glance at the two fatties who take up a seat for three. For this I have to stand for 40mins. I seriously *tried* once to squeeze in between two fatties. I had to stand up again when my butt obviously couldn't fit. You know what's bad?!? The fatties _didn't bother_ to make space at all. No shuffling over. All I needed was an inch or two either side. To which I'm internalising, "fat fckers". Gawd forgive me for thinking bad thoughts about humankind.

Can't wait for those heart attacks to happen :P

Yes. I think you _should_ feel bad about taking up an extra half seat. I fcking run when I *hates* running. At least try to take some pride in your body, especially when you're a fatty at <= my age.

To be fair, I'm not a morning person.

Don't even get me started on fatties on planes.

Indefinitely (part i)

2010-03-10T09:53:00.006Z

It's been a strange end to an amazing, rollercoaster journey.

Some of you know - I've left Rondon. Returned to Sydnery. Indefinitely.

The others - I can hear you *gasping* now :)

It was never planned, I just had a ticket. My life felt like it had been on hold for the past twelve months. Push eventually came to shove and I'd lost this round against destiny and my gods. When the decision was made to leave Rondon, I had one week to pack up four years of my life. 28kgs of singlet tops (some things about me never change), another 7kg of extra-gawd-knows-what later, I was on a plane home. So, here I am. After eight months of dredging through the Rondon job market, I found myself a job in Sydnery within two weeks.

In my last week in Rondon, I got immensely queasy and ill with Babsy :) Bad oysters, bad clams or just too much alcohol? We'll never know *grin* I had one last dinner date with Mrs P, who has been my constant cake and chocolate buddy since... 2003! I made a batch of laksa from the last of my stash for Sus, Wazzz and Frisbee (surprised that we're still friends? So am I!). Niffies and M-San fine dined me at Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley (where I was politely told to put my camera away or the chef would get upset). I had my last Benito's Hat burrito with Hottie and Mr D. Then I felt queasy and had to go home *grin*

My last day in Rondon? I woke up early, met my aunt for brekky at The Wolseley. Walked out to a crisp sunny Rondon day. As I walked from Piccadilly to Oxford Street to pick up my Uniqlo jeans, I was quiet and happy. The streets of Rondon were more familiar to me now than Sydnery. 4 years in Rondon had gifted me with a LOT of love and adventure. Ups and downs.

Tell you a not-so-well-kept secret - I hated living in Rondon when I first arrived. It was complicated, filled with paperwork, and I had *nothing*. I was in tears a lot, and at one point, ready to pack it all in and go home. Now I love it because it has never ending possibilities. It's about having choice and empowerment. Hottie and Mr D made the biggest impact on me before I left. They showed me that what I want is possible, especially in Rondon... If only I could focus long enough to figure out what I wanted!

My last day in Rondon I donated a crapload of clothes and books to Oxfam. I met up with Mrs P for an almond croissant at South Bank. I packed, and unpacked, and packed. For a "minimalist", I had a surprising amount of crap.

If you ask me what I miss most about Rondon - it's B. I can't tell you how much I miss B. The constant in my life for over a decade. The first person to greet me when I was fresh off the boat. Seriously, B was on the doorstep with a Timeout Cheap Eats guide waiting for me :) The only one who made me teary when saying "see you soon" before I left. The persona who is always there for me. Strangely, this is the first time we've lived separate lives. My final night dinner was with B at Barrafina, my fave tapas bar. The only thing missing was the hawt Spaniard waiter! Haha :)

I'll avoid the cliches. This is all I'm going to say about leaving Rondon - Thanks to all who have made Rondon a bloody good time for me. You know who you are. It's not goodbye, it's see you later ;)

Legless

2010-01-27T03:58:00.002Z

Is thinking that I should stop answering, "Strong", when the bartender asks me how I like my cocktails...

Not a word about the journey home hunny. Not. A. Word.

The awkward question

2010-01-26T01:30:00.006Z

Hottie lent me a book to read recently, called "The 4-Hour Work Week". At the end of each chapter, is a "Comfort Challenge" for readers to complete. The one which keeps me entertained at the moment is:
=====
Get Phone Numbers (2 Days)
Being sure to maintain eye contact, ask for the phone numbers of at least two (the more you attempt, the less stressful it will be) attractive members of the opposite sex on each day... Remember that the real goal is not to get numbers, but to get over the fear of asking, so the outcome is unimportant.
=====

I'll be honest, in all my life, I can only remember two occasions which I've ever asked for a guy's number. The first time was when I met a pretty cool clubber at an Above & Beyond gig in Glasgow :) We actually kept in touch for awhile and nerdily, exchanged fave tracks of our week *grin* The second time was when I met Whirlwind, and well, you know how that went. Trust me when I say being a girl doesn't make asking for someone's number any easier. I feel even sorrier for guys as based on a survey I've done amongst friends, girls rarely ever ask for numbers!

Which brings me to my point of "Nice guys finish last". I just want to be clear, I'm NOT bagging out nice guys. I'm all for nice guys! It's just that I've heard a lot of complaints from my nice guy friends that they never get the girl! I'm saying it's because, judging by all the nice guys I'm friends with, it's totally against their nature to approach a girl, begin a conversation and ask for a number. If you're asking the question why do girls always end up with bad guys, it's because bad guys are typically arrogant and confident enough to make the move while the nice guys are standing against the wall.

Or from Hottie's point of view, maybe I'm just the type of girl that nice guys don't want to talk to :( *lol*

Maybe it's harsh to condemn nice guys to last place. Aives corrected me the other day, "Nice guys don't finish last, they just finish s..l..o..w." *grin*

Anyways, if you're looking for a way to amuse yourself, try completing the "Comfort Challenge" above. When I told AA about it, she insisted I try it out infront of her. It took me 3 beers and a margarita to build up enough Dutch courage to move my butt out of my seat and plonk it down opposite a male diner of AA's picking. When I was talking to Wazzz about it, it took me an old fashioned, a mojito, a vespa and a daiquiri (that's at least 7 shots) before I could open my mouth to the cute bartender :)

Wazzz pretending to be cute bartender:

My line? It's pretty lame *grin*
"If I ask you for your number, would you give me a real one or a fake one?"
Results:
:: Guy with a fiancee - Gave me his real number *lol*
:: 2 guys, both with gfs - Didn't give me a number at all!

I was quite impressed that all three immediately responded with their current relationship status. At the very least, I got happily trashed and I probably made three guys pretty happy that day :)

Wazzz: "What do you want?"
Me: "Nothing with Sambuca in it... *gag*"
*Wazz orders drinks*
Me: "What's that??"
Bartender: "It's a Baby Guinness. It's Sambuca topped with Baileys."
*Me smacks Wazzz*

The problem with...

2010-01-14T16:52:00.005Z

...trying to forge an alternative career as a romance novelist is - I know shit-all about romance.

I think one of the most depressing questions I've ever been asked is, "What's the most romantic thing that's ever happened to you?"

To which I replied, "Errr... nothing. The only time I ever got flowers was when the Ex knew he'd been a major dick and was in big trouble" :P

I know nothing about random love notes, random love surprises, random I-love-you-just-because moments, random sweep-me-off-my-feet-Mr-Darcy gestures. Does anyone?!?

What on earth made me think about being a romance writer to begin with?

Well, honestly? I was busy mocking all the crappy Mills&Boons novels out there and thinking I could do better. Come on... Greek tycoon subjugates Wild Beauty?!? Down-to-earth ambitious Heroine tames arrogant and obnoxious Rich Billionaire? Come on!!

Huh... What do I know... At least after a glass of white, I was able to knock out a page of "breathtaking" dates. No shirt ripping or throbbing genitals though. I think that might take a whole bottle of white... I'm starting to understand why Keats was always wasted when he wrote poetry :P

The journey...

2010-01-08T17:22:00.008Z

I have an awful awful sense of direction. My saving grace is that I live in Zone 1, and I'll eventually get home regardless of where I start out from.

So it started out here, at the Tower of Rondon (home of the Crown Jewels and a 105-carat diamante. I've seen it, and yes, I will "settle" if you offer it to me *grin*).

That's an ice-rink on a moat infront of a castle, cool eh?
Literally cool. It's freaking freezing in Rondon atm.
Coldest winter *EVA*:

I'm sick as, and it's freezing. So I say my goodbyes and start trying to find my way home. Which would be a lot easier if I hadn't had 2 pints, Sudafed, paracetamol and no dinner. The cool thing is, landmarks are HUUUUGE in Rondon.

My first stop, Christopher Wren's Monument. For the history buffs, the Monument marks the spot where the Great Fire of Rondon started in 1666.

It's the brightly lit tower thingy standing in at 61m tall, just left of center:

I might not know where I'm going, but I kinda know where I live.
There's a hovering clock tower which looks familiar at the end of the street:

At this point, I'm contemplating catching a black cab:

Or a double-decker bus:

But hang on! Aah hah!!
As the bus moves away, the giant dome
of St Paul's Cathedral (another Christopher Wren creation)
blinks out at me:

So I keep walking towards the giant dome,
stumbling down streets I've never stumbled down before:

Now I know where I am :)

Rondon wouldn't be Rondon without the cranes in the sky:

I walk through another piece of history.
Centuries-old meat market...

... or Middle-Age execution ground for heretics?
For those Braveheart fans, William Wallace was executed
just round the corner from here:

Kurz & Lang, where me and B go for half price wieners *grin*

And I'm finally home:

Give me lost in Rondon anytime over owning a GPS...

Clarity

2010-01-06T01:45:00.003Z

How funny.

The Whirlwind was in town and we were going to hang out today before he jumped onboard a plane back to his side of the world. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that not only was he a no-show, but he also didn't bother to let me know he couldn't make it this time. I didn't really feel anything. He's irresponsible enough that I know this is just how he works. I'm just annoyed at myself for falling for it. Whatever *it* was.

Later on in the evening, I met up with a guy from speed dating. This was the first time we'd met up since the event. Alas! Nice enough guy, decent looking, but sadly no spark throughout the evening. As I teased him over my half-pint of Amstel, I quietly asked myself if I could see myself in a relationship with this nice-enough-guy. In other words, could I just "settle" for whatever's thrown at me these days? Because, let's be honest, I'm not a spring chook anymore :P

After a second half-pint of Guinness, I was relieved to find the answer in my heart is still no.

Wait... If I'm not settling for a sparkless Nice Guy, why on earth was I putting myself through the emotional wringer for a Bad Guy? Who didn't even live in the same city as me? Who made me feel like a mental stalker waiting around for his calls? I think I overrated spark (and six-packs). Spark (and six-packs) are great *grin*, but it's no excuse for turning a blind eye to all those other things that are wrong.

So I wrote Whirlwind a goodbye email and told him not to contact me anymore. Shuttit... He's on a plane, so there's noway I can do this over the phone :P Besides, I'm too cheap to make an international call *grin*

Closure feels good. Understanding how "settling" seems so much more plausible and tempting at this stage of my life though, feels awful.

This Christmas...

2010-01-03T00:55:00.006Z

...I woke up at 2am, and made Heston's 6-hour spagbol *grin* That's right! I finely chopped, heated loads of butter, mixed ingredients (bar celery because I was out of it) until 4am, then slotted it into the oven. I managed to stay up till 7am watching movies before conking out. Waking briefly at 10:30am to turn the oven off. Then going back to bed :P

Was it good? Wooo, yeah it was tasty. I have to say star anise and nutmeg really do make a difference. Was it worth the 6 hours in the oven? Heck no! :P I'd give it 3 hours max.

At 2pm, I walked over to St Paul's:
(Me wondering if the timer works)

(Me dropping my iPhone)

(Me wondering if the timer took the pic already)

(Me closing my eyes)

Got it right! :)
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
(if you haven't noticed, I'm dressed like a Christmas tree for you)
My pecan pie before oven...

My pecan pie after oven and what it so doesn't look like :(

Premature ejaculation

2010-01-03T00:52:00.001Z

It's what happens when you have an itch to dance, but because there's nothing on, you grasp at RNB. It's when you rock up at the club at 9-freaking-30pm because that's when it starts. It's when you still manage to catch the last tubes home at midnight. It's 00:35 and I'm in bed already (this is when B and I normally leave home to catch the last tubes out to a dance club). It's where you go to meet guys who will stand next to you looking all nonchalant, and will wait for the girl to say the first word. Wow, that's not *awkward*. Grow some fcking balls! (sez I, as I stumble down the road home in my clickety-clackety patent RnB heels and shiny shiny RnB top).

"I likes showing off my tattoo"
(You can tell because it's freaking cold atm and he's holding his jumper)

The truth is, nice guys finish last because they don't have the balls to open their mouths. They don't make the effort to say, "Hey, you know what? You look fcking hot on the dance floor tonight and I'd love for you to do a shot with me".

Not sure about the other girls, but that'd work for me. Free booze! ;P As opposed to the, "HEY! WHAT'S YOUR NAME?!?!", I got tonight. "It's None of Your Fcking Business...", is what I was saying in my head.

Things I saw in Cambodia

2009-12-27T00:38:00.011Z

Firstly, did you know Tin Tin had a mishap in Cambodia?

I never read this one:

The beauty:

Me in ruins (800+ year old ruins!):

The poverty.
Where a woman with a baby rows up to us and begs for money:

The fried stuff (crickets and spiders):

The evil:

Even though we'd pledged it would never happen again after 1945, it happened between 1975-1979. My parents wouldn't have survived. My brother born in 1972 would've been shot. I would've starved to death if I made it. 2 million people died. 8000 skulls are piled up high in the killing fields. So how can we say we've learnt our lesson?

Moral dilemmas

2009-12-26T18:46:00.006Z

I saw the part of Asia that I never saw before. I grew up amongst bougainvilleas, hawker food, night markets and baseball played with a 2x4.

I was the first in line to vote for seeing ping pong in Bangkok. Sure, it's always been funny in pop culture. The thought of seeing someone project a ping pong ball from their va-jay-jay seemed high-la-ri-ous.

Until I stepped in. There's someone in there who could be my sister. And my mother. Even my grandmother. *That one*, she could be my brother!

It's not just that which makes it less funny. It's not funny at all. Women shouldn't honk horns, draw "Welcome!" signs, shoot darts out of their va-jay-jay. How the hell do you even find out you can do those sort of things? So yeah, it's really depressing to watch. It's depressing to watch the 50-something year old beer-bellied white guy with a wedding ring on, get a blow job just a meter away behind us. It's disgusting to watch him rub his face into a girl's muff just because he can.

But... what other choice is there?

I'm in the Russian markets in Phnom Penh...
(My Ma: "Why do they call it Russian markets? I didn't see any Russians..."
Me: "Maaaa, I told you, a lot of foreigners used to live here. The foreigners were mainly RUSSIAN and they use to come here all the time!").

Me: "I'd love to buy that for our niece, but it's probably made by a kid our niece's age."
My brother: "SO? Would you rather our niece prostitute herself? It's either work in a sweatshop or sell yourself for sex."

Me: "So what sort of power plant are you building? Nu-cu-lear?"
My brother: "Nope. Coal."
Me: "Wtf? What happened to green and global warming? Coal is filthy!"
My brother: "They can't afford it. It's coal or the people die. What do you want? Do you want them to die?"

My brother: "That's the prime minister's house. It took three years to build."
Me: "That's a freaking mansion!!! Wtf, there are people sleeping on the streets outside his house."
My brother: "Yup."

That's the side of Asia I never saw growing up. We were poor, but we weren't dirt poor. We were corrupt, but we weren't *that* corrupt that teachers and doctors had to be paid to do their jobs. Corruptness to the point where NGO's could pay for penthouses for self, spare apartments for storage and visiting friends.

A middle-aged guy sat next to me on the plane from Bangkok to Singapore. I eavesdropped as he told the lady on the other side he'd been to Pattaya, Bangkok, Hua Hin, etc. My first thought - You sleazy bastard. Wtf is someone your age doing travelling alone in Thailand?

I perpetuated. It doesn't make me sleep easy.

Beauty really is skin deep.

Analytics

2009-12-20T04:08:00.003Z

Here's what I've learnt from Google Analytics' "keyword source" tonight *grin*

a) There is hope for oriental guys wanting to date non-oriental gals:

b) "Council Estate Skanks" is the one to watch:

Will eat for love

2009-12-20T02:33:00.015Z

As boring as it may sound, I spent my my 31st birthday with my parents :) No getting drunk, no running away, no mad hats and kissing girls. Just eating lots with my beloved parents and family :) It sounds weird, but my family are feeders.

We talk about food when we wake up, we talk about food one meal ahead, we eat between meals, and we talk about food before we sleep. My fondest childhood memories are of eating hawker food late at night with my Mum, Dad and brothers. My Mum helping me to squat and pee in a monsoon drain after supper (ssssh, don't tell my future employers that I can do the oriental squat!).

Instead of the Maccas scale to judge the standard of living in different countries, we have the crab scale.

Chilli crabs in Singapore:

Chilli and curry crabs in Thailand (sorry, forgot to take a pic!)

Salty egg (Haam Daan) crabs in Cambodia -

Which country had the best value crab meal?

WEEEELL....
Biggest crab ever, goes to Singapore Chilli Crabs.
Err, with crabs from Sri Lanka. HUUUUGEN:

Best value for money, Thai crabs. Cheap as chips! 2 mud crabs for next to nothing in Baht (again, sorry no pix).

Tastiest crab goes to CAAAMBODIA :) Which surprisingly has a lot of really good seafood. For exorbitant US prices. More on that later.

Here's what my Dad told me on the last day of our holiday together - "What do you want to eat? CRAB. PRAWNS. Because I know you're not going to have the same in Rondon! You will never find this in Rondon!"

My Dad was right. Best. Birthday. Ever.

(Followed very closely by the time the dFs, B, He Who Shall Not Be Named and I went mental for a week :) )

Here are the other foodie pix from Singapore (where a brilliant laksa cost me less than 2 squids) and Cambodia.

THAT laksa:

Char Kway Teow:

Teow Chew Braised Duck:

Kway-Something-Something, it came with the Braised Duck:

Tofu, simple and honest :)

Foodcourt Rojak and dang it was good:

Durian, the KING of fruit.
Smells like a public toilet, tastes like heaven...
(to be honest, I loooooves the smell)

My birthday dinner of Steamboat with every luxurious seafood available:

(there's abalone in there)

The best fish head curry on banana leaf in Singapore:

The pippies (la la) I haven't had for years because it's not sold in Rondon:

The boat noodles I had by the side of the floating markets:

The riskiest thing I did in BKK...
Eat fly-infested noodles (before I found the more hygienic noodles above)
THE DAY BEFORE T&D's wedding:

Nom nom nom... The Cambodian grouper:

The mangosteens. HELL the fruit in general:

So yeah, I took more pix of food than anything else ;P
(THANK YOU LI,
ESPECIALLY FOR LETTING ME EAT DURIAN
IN YOUR APARTMENT
*grin* *MUAH* )

My new niece

2009-12-20T02:17:00.005Z

Olivia Catherine Liew :) I'm joyous the day of. And I'm grieving the day of. Conflicting emotions and I can guarantee you that it's confusing the crap out of me.

I cried my heart out on the day I heard my new niece arrived *le sigh*

Still, I'd like you to see my new niece :)
(Tell me that's not a good enough reason to mate with a whitey ;) )

I woke up this morning

2009-12-19T02:09:00.005Z

... to an email from my Mum:
Subject: Chubby-R.I.P.
"Hi Girlie,
We are so sorry have sad news for you. Actually I meant to tell you last night about him but forgot. Chubby has become worse past 2 days he can’t walk anymore. Dad said he didn’t sleep last night probably in pain dad has been giving him Osteo-Panadol. Anyway we took him to the Vet this morning and was advised to put him to sleep. They can’t do anything it is due to old age his heart is failing too. So they put him to sleep this morning we didn’t want to watch came home then went back to collect him and bury him in the backyard.
It has been raining all day the sky is crying too.
Dad pretty upset but he will get over it in time. I am too. Anyway I think it is better for him as he was suffering.
It is really sad after having him for nearly 15years but he has been treated well.
Love Mum"

It's silly to be soo upset. Chubby is just a dog. A plain old pug. He's a dog that's been part of my life for the past 14 years. He's the dog that was always happy to see me. He's the one that's always loved me unconditionally. He's the one that made me jealous because my parents hand-fed him! He was no longer "just a dog". He was part of my family. I love him because he never ever stopped loving me. Even when I was mad at him for pooping on my carpet :)

To be honest, I knew Chubby's time was up when I spoke to my parents a few weeks ago about him. It's just maddening that I never got to say Thank You and Goodbye. I still remember the day I picked him up, the car accident we had on the way home, and how he fit just perfectly on my lap.

Chubby always sat at my feet when I was at the pooter. He always snuck a stink bomb in and I would call him "STINKY!" and push him away :)

Love you Chubs. Always and Forever. I never doubted your beauty.

I am grieving.

The Apocalypse

2009-12-16T19:23:00.004Z

(Otherwise known as "Winter in England")

Ruuuun for your liiiiives! Timestamp: 16:43

Every year, the Aussie-ex-pats bitch and moan about what is to come. The bitter cold. The grey. The rain. The instant dark by 4pm. The puffy jacket weather. The absolute *bone-chilling* bitter cold!

Everyone's talking about whether we're going to have a white Christmas this year. According to WikiAnswers:

"For a white Christmas to be official, a flake of snow must be observed to fall at the four specific sites between midnight on 24 December and midnight on 25 December, even if it is mixed with rain and is not necessarily snow lying on the ground.

Given this definition, England last enjoyed a white Christmas in 1999."

The first snowflakes fell in Rondon today. Messages flew across the network about it. The odds are currently at 3.25. Secretly inside, when it snows, we love it :)

Looking out a train window. Timestamp: 17:35

Weddings (part 2)

2009-12-05T15:13:00.003Z

Tis no secret how T and I became buddies. We met in uni, T ambushed me in the Collanade one day, and an hour later we were plotting out how to tell our parents we were going to move out together *lol* The story of when I first met D is a little sweeter. T convinced him to pick me up from Heathrow and chauffeur us straight to Global Gathering 3 hours away! 18 hours of dancing later, at a pit stop on the way home, I still remember D having a quiet word with me when we were alone.

D: "Can you please tell T that you like me and think I'm a cool guy???"

*grin* Aww bless! Don't worry D, you had me sold when you picked me up from the airport ;) Over the years, I've gotten to know D like an older brother. I'm glad for the time I've had to "quality check" D when we were living together ;)

Like I told T on their Big Day, "I couldn't have lost my best friend to a better man".

Congratulations guys! *MUAH*

On a side note, if you're using eggs to play door games, ALWAYS DOUBLE-CHECK the eggs have been hardboiled before use ;P Things became a lot less funny when the grooms man had to pull down his suit pants in the middle of a crowded corridor and try to remove egg stains hours before the wedding ceremony.

I seriously wonder...

2009-12-02T18:33:00.005Z

... how much time girls spend on doing their faces and hair. I was recently given a ghd by T&D (thank you!). So I'm practising being a girl *lol*

Hair with Posh Spice pout:

Hair with Kawaii "V" sign:

Straightening my hair wasn't the hard part, the ghd makes it sht easy. It was deciding which way to part my hair and then trying to keep annoying strands off my face which consumed me! As you can tell, I make a lousy girl :P It comes from growing up with two elder brothers and dressing in their hand-me-down "Life Be In It" tshirts and tennis shorts. How on earth do girls do this everyday?!?

Even worse, I can't believe I'm 31 (yes, 31) and only experimenting with hair now...Well, at least I guess nobody's going to wonder if I'm lesbian with this hairdo.

Weddings (part 1)

2009-12-01T13:23:00.005Z

Behold! I think the bridesmaid curse is broken! I was bridesmaid twice in the space of a month, and nothing bad happened at the weddings :) Well, nothing I can remember anyways. Oh wait. I remember talking about sexually transmitted diseases at the reception dinner. That was some good red wine, Mrs P!!!

Mrs P, I realised how old and sentimental I was getting when your vows brought a tear to my eye. I've never been weepy at weddings before. Mr P, you passed all the door games with flying colours (ok, ok, I'll admit the last one was a trap). You're definitely a Renaissance Man worthy of Mrs P's love ;) I'll be checking up on your vow to keep taking Mrs P to Michelin starred restaurants and letting her choose your main course *grin*

Congratulations to you both,
I was honoured to be your bridesmaid for the day :)

I have a video of Mr P doing naughty things in a sexy orange-stuffed candy bra. Will sell to highest bidder ;)

Change

2009-11-13T17:08:00.004Z

I still remember how excited I was moving into my first apartment in Rondon. I was so happy, that I jumped on my bed and broke the slat (which I duct taped back together the other day)! I still remember shopping for one small pot and one small bowl (just enough for Mee Goreng) with B :)

After 3 and a bit years, our crazy/psychotic/zen oriental landlord has sold the place. B and I handed in our notice, packed up, and days before leaving the country, we moved. For a minimalist, I had a lot of crap to pack up :P

Today, I left 3 sets of keys on the table, hugged the porter J goodbye, and walked away.

Strangely, I'm not sad about leaving the place. I always knew it wasn't permanent, and I never really made an effort to make it feel like my home. I'm more sad about leaving the area. The local pubs round the corner, the close proximity to the center of Rondon, Regents Park in my backyard, the weekend visits to Marylebone High Street, the evening drinks with friends who all lived around me... I think the best thing about living where I did, was that it was just so easy :)

Like B said, after 3+ years, it's an end of an era.
Hotel Beenikster is now closed.

Shudder

2009-11-11T00:01:00.006Z

I left my account up on Speed Dater for a few days. Just out of curiousity. After 4 days, I've deleted it. I got the heebee-geebees. Here's why. On first inspection of my profile, I seem to be doing quite well:

6 votes, average of 4.8 out of 5 (someone obviously didn't want me to get a fathead ;) ). I've been "officially" rated as a "Honey". Lots of messages from other members. All looks good.

Like everything in life, everything *always* looks good on paper :P My ego was humbly deflated when I dug a little deeper. In reality, here are the people who rated me:

Call me superficial if you must. Just tell me if you were in my shoes, you'd find this a compliment :P

It's not just that, everytime I read the profile of someone who's messaged me, I'm sooo turned off. They can't spell, mainly because they can barely speak English. Some of them _are_ English! It's a joke when a guy claims to be "inteligent and hansome" :P Some of them seem so dodgy. Some of them think they're god's gift. Some of them are just very large and very old. I find the very large and very old factors disturbing. It seems lecherous for someone 50+ to like me. It makes me think that these are the ones who go to Asia and bring back wives. I have no evidence, it's just a very awkward gut feeling.

It's not that I don't date older men. Truth be told, I've dated someone approximately 11 years older than me. However, I met this guy IRL, we had an awesome time together, and we had a lot in common. We spent loads of time talking about everything and anything. This feels different. This feels like someone picking me as a mail order bride. I guess I look like a lot of fun in my profile pic, and as you can see, that's all that's on my profile. Nothing about what I'm like, or what I'm interested in. So what exactly does a 50-something year oldie, or even the fatty, think he has in common with a 30-something year old who looks like she goes clubbing a lot? It's just strange that I'm getting quite a bit of attention from the same demographic. Do I look like a "safe" bet?

When my gut tells me it's wrong, I listen. *DELETE ACCOUNT*...

Oh dear

2009-11-07T18:39:00.006Z

Quality:

To be fair, the picture's already a bit weird because I've blotted out his eyes so that if you ever bump into him in the whole-wide-UK, you'd never be able to point at him and go, "OH YOU'RE THE ODD HIGH-TALKER AT SPEED DATING REENIE WAS TALKING ABOUT!"

The point is, and I really don't want to be mean, however, regardless of who you are, if you're trying to pick up, DO NOT post a profile pic with a double chin! :)) Not attractive! Does that really need to be explicit?!?

The other thing is, unless you're a hottie with a six-pack and oh, personality and a sense of adventure I guess, DO NOT use the line, "How would you like to see what's missing from your life?" on your profile! I'm sorry, but I don't need an extra chin.

He was truly the only guy in the group that I struggled to chat with.

I think I've found the perfect career for myself - Teaching guys how to look good and pick up. Not that I've ever tried, but I can't believe how clueless some guys are. It's not like I'm great at picking up, but there are some really *obvious* things guys should already know. Take me out on a date for two hours, and I'll point out every creepy/weird/annoying thing that you do. For no extra cost, you can also listen to me rant about what's right to do on a date ;)

Those who have so far ticked me down as a "date" match, are the Italian who couldn't speak English very well, the creepy guy who stroked my flower, and two very young guys. I don't think I'm ready to be a Cougar yet though, hahaha! :)

(Note to Mollow: I'm proud of you, I've been hearing very good reports back about your bill-calling *grin*)

3 mins

2009-11-06T23:55:00.009Z

Huh.

The top 3 questions asked of me:
#1. "Where are you from?"
IF (guy.speaks(ENGLISH))
{reenie.println("G'day Mate");}
ELSE
{reenie.imitate(kangaroo);}
#2. "What do you do?"
IF (guy.senseofhumour())
{reenie.println("I sharpen pencils in a factory");}
ELSE
{reenie.println("I work in IT as a Business Analyst");
#3. "What do you think of tonight?"
reenie.println("It's been... interesting");

Huh.

I did meet a couple of fun guys, where 3 mins of my time just seemed to fly by :) I also met a few guys that were just a little socially awkward and were more effort. I met one who was just _odd_. Very very _odd_. He had a higher pitched voice than me, type of _odd_. One guy who was creepy. He was the only guy who reached out to start stroking my fake blooded flower. I immediately advised him to keep his hands to himself and not to try the same trick on the next ladies. He was also the only one who said I was "fit". Drunk perhaps? ;P

I feel sorry for blokes. It does seem like they have a harder time. I think a lot of it comes down to honing their conversational skills. When every single guy ahead of you asks the same 3 questions above, you have to think about what's going to distinguish you from the rest. Gawd, am I the only one who bothered to do my homework?

To make things more interesting, my Partner-in-Crime for this event and I gave each other five words to use in conversation. His choices for me were:
:: Bamboozle, Bugaboo, Shadoof, Discombobulated, Gubernatorial.

I think the only one I didn't use was, "Gubernatorial". Mainly because I had issues pronouncing it :P You can tell PiC is an American, can't you? ;)

My words for PiC were:
:: Syphilis, Foot-fungus, Chlamydia, Fart-tastic, Hoochie-momma.

To his credit, he used "Foot-fungus" on a Kiwi girl who was apparently a nasty piece of work *grin*

I also took this chance to perform a survey.
Me: "So, have you seen Total Recall? You have? Ok, would you date a chick with 3 b00bies?"

Guy 1: I didn't ask, because he didn't speak English very well. I feared the question would get lost in translation.
Guy 18: "NO." (Looks at me like I'm a freak and I can actually see the relief wash over him when the bell rings. English prude. I didn't ask anyone who didn't seem to have a funny bone after that.)
Guy 17: "YES." (Proceeds to stick two hands up and tongue out in such a way that I burst out laughing. You can always rely on Aussies to have a crude SOH :) )
Guy 12: "4 boob minimum!" (Italiano, of course ;) )
Guy 7: "Yes, but only to find out what it's like. But I wouldn't take her home to my mother." *lol*
Guy 3: "Sure, why not. I'll take 3 boobs. But 4 boobs max. I wouldn't do 5."

Results - 3 No'sus, 5 Yes'us, 1 Maybe :) There ya go.

So yeah. "Interesting" is the best adjective I can muster up for this experience. Would I pay to do it again? No, because it's bloody expensive at 23 squids a pop. Not to mention the bar charged me 5 squids for a BEER. Extortionate!!! Really. I can't say I'd recommend Speed Dater at all.

I guess, what I took away from tonight, is errr... more proof that I really _can_ talk sht to anyone these days. "So... If I were to give you a million pounds, but you had to sleep with someone infected with syphilis, would you do it?" :P

T -03:00:00

2009-11-06T15:29:00.005Z

So, do you think I'm going to pick up at Speed Dating tonight? *lol*

Maybe I forgot to leave some nice clothes out before packing and moving all my sht to my new abode. Ah well... Might as well make the most out of my Halloween flower...

"What is a kernel?"

2009-11-06T15:00:00.001Z

Me: "I can give you another name for it. It's a shell... It's that *thing* that... (*argh*)... connects directly to the processor..."

(>_<)

FAIL.

Where to look? (NSFW)

2009-11-03T22:23:00.006Z

Warning: This post has an explicit picture at the bottom and probably shouldn't be viewed at work :P

A long time ago, I posted (beware, link has pic of large glass dild0 :P) about girl-friendly sex shops in Rondon. The ones on a proper high street, with warm bright lights inside. I also wrote about having to go shopping for Babsy's hens gifts last year.

Recently, I've had to do some _more_ shopping, this time for Ms K's door games and T's hens night. This time, I visited the seedier shops in Soho, Rondon's redlight district. I seriously think I've been to about 80% of the sex shops in Soho. The other 20% are probably hidden from view and I haven't found them yet. The most suprising shops I found were the ones which looked like a proper, normal, bookshop upstairs, but were actually fully stocked sex dens downstairs.

Shopping for a candy bra and stripper shoes might seem like easy tasks to complete, but you'd be surprised. It's quite unnerving actually. Everytime I stepped through the discrete doorway at the back of the shop, or down the stairwell to the basement, I was guaranteed two things:
:: I would be the only female there and all eyeballs would swivel uncomfortably in my direction;
:: I would be absolutely *surrounded* by wall-to-wall hardcore pr0n DVDs. Wooo, "Council Estate Skanks" looks good :P

It's very hard to act natural and nonchalant when all I see are men with pr0n DVDs in their hands. I'm not a pr0n connoisseur, but from what I've watched, these aren't Mills&Boons romance stories :P

The thing that strikes me as strange (besides the perfumed "Chinese doll" designed to smell like a real woman displayed above me), is finding someone who's of grandpa age browsing the DVDs. I would've thought guys grow out of pr0n. Eventually.

I felt lame asking for a candy bra when there were all these massive silicone pee pees right infront of me.

The sex shopping experience though, wasn't as bad as having to walk into a professional print shop (these guys did a great job) and ask the guys there to print out giant board posters of naked men for "Pin the Willy". Yes. I'm now the proud owner of two giant naked men. One who bares a resemblance to Borat. I use to be a proud owner of a giant pee pee too, but that went missing on the hens night.

MIA: Has anyone seen this hanging around Covent Garden?

Me: "Are you going to charge me for the p3nis?"
Printer: "No, you can have the p3nis for free."
Me: "Aww, that's so sweet! A free p3nis!" *grin*

The pervy things I do for my girlfriends.

PS: Want more reason for me *not* to use my lappy when inebriated? After 2 long island ice teas, copious amounts of red wine, then vodka, I took the above pic using Photo Booth, and proceeded to email it to a couple of my aunties with the subject, "c**k" (>_<) OOooh yeah, everything's a good idea when drunk...

Creepy little people

2009-10-13T01:54:00.002+01:00

Lately, I've been hanging out at RnB clubs on Friday nights *cringe* Mainly because I want to spend time with my mates who happen to like RnB. So I put up with the bad-on-my-creaky-knees "dancing" for the company.

Straight out - I don't find oriental guys attractive. So walking into a club filled with them exasperates me. Just because there are certain stereotypes about oriental guys that just ring too true. I'm not saying all oriental guys are like this, but the ones I've seen in clubs lately are:
:: DORKY looking with their gelled-up Dragonball Z locks, and triad-style Rick Astley vests;
:: REALLY SHORT to the point where I can see over them when I'm wearing heels;
:: INCREDIBLY STUPID when it comes to the art of picking up women.

Scenario: Me having a good time dancing with my Hotty Friend. Along comes an oriental shorty who starts grinding in close vicinity. *Gee*, that's not creepy at all. We give him the cold shoulder, to no effect.

To be fair, I'm pretty cynical when it comes to guys picking up. A lot of guys in dance clubs have tried the lamer line, "Are you having a good night?" on me - to which I'm internally thinking, "Wtf do you think I'm here if I'm _not_ having a good night?"

So! Imagine what I'm thinking when all the oriental shorty can think of saying to us is, "What's wrong?"

Hotty Friend: "What's wrong? You don't speak Australian."
Me: "What's wrong?!? STOP. Get your hand off me. You're fcking too close."

You'd think this would be a sign for him to go away. However, he persists for a little longer until he's approached by his "wing-woman" and advised to leave the set.

Creepy little people... they exist in RnB clubs :P

Antony Micallef

2009-10-05T23:48:00.003+01:00

I'm fast becoming a lover of Lazarides gallery. Remember how I'd love to own a piece of Antony Micallef? Lazarides is currently exhibiting his work :) It's not a big exhibition, it's just a powerful one. In the 15 minutes I spent perusing his work, the word I'd use to describe his work is raw.

I love it. I wish I could pay for it.

The romance

2009-10-05T22:51:00.004+01:00

That picture in my head... Of a lovely, airy space... Filled with funky chairs and couches... The aroma of freshly roasted coffee beans wafting with the open breeze...

...Is dead :P

My first week as Rondon's oldest tea lady is over. ME - the seasoned Queen of all-night Doof-Doof raves, a hardcore mid-week drinker, a jetlagged-jet-setting globetrotter, an insomniac vampiric nightowl unphased by daylight - ME! Heartily admits I was knackered out by the end of my second day of manual labour :P

Killed by the overzealous mopping I've had to do over the past week. Did I mention how HUUUGE Yumchaa Soho is? It's TWO LEVELS. I don't even mop my own 3m² kitchen at home! *Chagrin*

So hard had I worked during the past week, that I spent the entire Sunday in BED. Knocked out. Ok, so I did go clubbing with B till 3am on Saturday. Then had a drink or two with T and Boss Lady after my long Saturday shift. You know what? I didn't even last till midnight on Saturday. Home before the carriage turned into a pumpkin.

Yet, I savoured every minute of my social life *grin*

It's a strange rollercoaster. I wake up in the morning, and it's a good sign at least that I still want to go to work. It's a good sign that I don't dread turning up early on the Boss Man's doorstep and waking him up *grin* (it's just the mopping I dread). It's made me think about, "What sort of shop do I want to open?" Well, for starters, I can tell you it's a SMALL shop which requires little cleanup!

It's made me think, "Why aren't I working this hard for myself"?

It's not mentally challenging, it's just hard physical labour (Wtf, stop whinging about your desk job, I love sitting infront of a pooter all day!). To the point where my right arm was seriously *twinging* on Sunday. My right hand sufferred pins and needles, and today I discovered it actually hurt to write (Wicky! I was filling out your form!). Carpal tunnel anyone? Though Y* thinks it could just be a bad case of RSI ;) I hearts having med friends.

Yup, the romance of owning my own cafe is dead. Well, sort of. I still want to do _something_ of my own. Maybe just not on such a large scale atm... I will need munkey minions in that direction. It's a good thing, it's brought me down to earth.

This week has made me truly appreciate the value of my hard earnt pound. It's also made me value how much I took my social life for granted. It's made me love Rondon's public transport system. Only in Rondon could I travel 5.4-freaking-km from Soho to Chelsea, and then back within an hour break! *phew* When I make promises to friends, I don't break them ;) It's a good thing I've been running at the gym, that's all I can say.

Autobaaahn!

2009-09-30T01:49:00.005+01:00

Wheeee!
It's very hard to take pictures inside a speeding car :P

Tea lady!

2009-09-29T23:11:00.004+01:00

"Do you need a tea lady?"

Gawd knows how many people I've asked that question recently. I've even asked the door-guy who looks after the apartment building *grin*

So it shouldn't really be that much of a surprise when someone actually took me up on my offer and made me into one! *lol* I'm now a proud employee of Yumchaa :)

My first day's been mixed. Everyone was full of encouragement - even when I was partially responsible for a customer spilling his espresso on his suit... In front of the Boss Lady *cringe* Five minutes later, my sausage-like butterfingers soon followed up on the faux pas, when they let slip a cup full of ice. I essentially threw ice cubes at the customer... Again, all this under the eagle eyes of the Boss Lady *double cringe* I never realised before how much of a klutz I am. Sure, I occasionally trip over my own feet. However, I'm fast learning that the rest of me is pretty uncoordinated too :P

I'm kind of surprised actually, that not only am I still employed as a tea lady, but that I was given my share of the tips at the end of my shift (all 1.70 squiddies of it *lol*).

It's been an interesting day, as I suddenly started equating the cost of everything to how much I had to work to earn it. A coffee? That's close to half an hour's work. Two coffees in a day suddenly seems like a luxury. Something that seemed like a drop in the ocean before, now looked more like a bucket in a bathtub.

Another interesting thing for me, is that I'll be working with a completely different set of people than what I'm used to. For starters, I must be Rondon's oldest tea lady. Though, except for my supervisor, I don't think any of the others I met today realised this due to my youthful-looking, well-moisturised skin *grin* So it's kinda hilarious when the young ones look at me sagely and dose out some advice for the newbie. One youngen, gave me a lengthy explanation on why her method of grilling foccacia was better than mine as she thought I would be upset about being corrected. Aah bless :) It's more likely to take a fat angry man to make me cry. Besides the point - it's a freaking foccacia! Who cares how it gets grilled as long as it gets grilled??

I'm really looking forward to my tenure at Yumchaa :) A long time ago, I use to say that I wanted to open my own coffee shop. This is just one test on whether or not opening my own cafe is something I can be passionate about in the future. I'm planning on writing up some reviews on the teas in the shop to help me with my customer recommendations. They smell and taste sooo good! The tea that is, sniffing the customers is probably a sackable offence :P

Boss Lady - If you're reading this, I may have chased away potential regulars, BUT at least I didn't break a single thing today :) Does that mean you're not going to dock my pay? ;)

Everyone else - Come visit me in Soho, and remember to tip!

Stupid <3

2009-09-13T00:06:00.004+01:00

There is and there isn't a guy. He flits very randomly in and out of my life with very little notice. He flits in, we get on like a house on fire. He flits out, and a faint imprint is left behind...

The unspoken rules of "No Strings Attached" (for the BASIC geek in you):
10 Well, you don't get attached for starters
20 You don't ever contemplate the possibility of a future together
30 GOTO 10

(Most people remember their first program as "Hello World". Mine was a green Logo turtle which made an equilateral triangle :) )

Problem is, each time it happens, the imprint gets deeper. Here's where it fcking sucks to be a girl. Most guys I've spoken to about this, can just cut off emotionally. They put it away. Emotions out of sight are out of mind.

As a girl, I didn't care at the start. It's just fun. It's nothing serious. Think of the baggage. BIG BIIIIG baggage.

The tumbleweed sweeps by. It's still fun. We get along *so* well. But hell, different cities, different priorities, it's never going to work. Still thinking of the baggage.

The dust storm rolls in. I start thinking "what if". What if he moves back to this city. He's always talking about coming back. We click. We spark. That's why I forgave when he said sorry. It took a lot for him to say sorry, and I really appreciated it. Now I'm starting to wonder if he thinks about me too. Now the baggage is BIG, but maybe it's not soo BIIIIG if things ever got serious.

Dangerous thoughts. That's unspoken line 20 broken.

Dang hard to resist. It's _especially_ hard to resist when he's been training lots and seriously has the body of a Greek god *grin* It's dang near impossible to resist when someone you want, wants you back.

So now I'm just waiting for the hurricane to hit. I won't know when it'll be.

Stupid heart. I should just cut the strings now.

Bonus: Since I'm being nostalgic, here's pics from the Invader exhibition recently held at Lazarides:

Sometimes

2009-08-20T10:23:00.003+01:00

...I wonder, "Wtf am I on?!?" Blogging about drowning bees? Aiyah. Talk about a slow blogging day :P

Which still proves my theory that *everything* seems like a great idea when drunk.

Too soft-hearted

2009-08-19T22:35:00.005+01:00

It was a sweltering high of 24 degrees today... You think I'm kidding, but for real! It was a proper Engrish Summer day :) Clear skies, heat, and a nice reminder of how good England can feel when it behaves. It's a day when I didn't want to go underground, and spent an hour walking to my destination instead. When I got there, we plonked ourselves down by the side of the Thames and ordered something refreshingly COLD. For me a rose.

I watch as a bright yellow bee buzzes around my giant glass. Oh dear. I'm too sweaty and lethargic to swat it away.

Surely, it's not a bad way to go... An alcoholic's dream. Besides, it was asking for it. All the space in the world to fly around in, and it chose my glass. The buzzing stops as the bee inevitably sinks into my rose.

Aaah bugger.
I lazily pick up the glass and pour it out on the pavement.
The bee lives to see another sweltering, Engrish Summer day!

My friend looks at me like I'm crazy (fair enough, he bought my drink!).
I still believe in karma. I still believe that one day, I'm going to be stuck in a very dumb situation and I'm hoping I get mysteriously bailed out too. Let's just call this paying it forward.

Which Saturday? (Part ii)

2009-08-17T13:06:00.003+01:00

The poll is closed:

What does this prove?
:: That I have a readership of 19 people :P
:: At least 4 of them are my friends ;)
:: The other 15 are likely to be at least a week late if they're meeting me.

"Do you remember"

2009-08-15T02:12:00.004+01:00

Me: "... your first time?"
All: "Yes."
Me: "How old were you?"
Him 1: "17"
Him 2: "16"
Him 3: "13"
Me: "WTF, 13?!? How did you know where to put it?"
Him 3: "What do you mean? I still don't know where to put it"

I can understand for girls, it's easy. I *can't* understand for guys. It's dangly, it's out there, it flip flops around, sometimes, from what I see, you guys don't even have control of it. Behave, we're in public! ("Won't someone think of the children?" ;) ) If I pwn'd something like that, I wouldn't know what the hell to do with it.

How on earth do you live with something which just points when it wants to?!?

Tonight's funny thing is, the surprised looks when I wore this:

Yes. HEELS.

I don't think the girls with the surprised looks realised that I only wore heels because I thought that's what they were going to be wearing... Personally, I don't think the guys I met tonight cared 2p what was on my feet ;)

Twitter

2009-08-15T02:08:00.003+01:00

It use to be cool. Until I started getting Twitterspam. I don't know what's more insulting:

That I'm getting loads of pr0n0 requests - which would be fine if they were a little less skanky...

OR that these skanks think that I'm a "DORKY GUY".

*hurrumph*

Needs something stronger

2009-08-07T17:23:00.006+01:00

Here's the latest work in-progress.

See where it's going?

Unfortunately, UHU isn't strong enough to hold the head onto the canvas. It plops off barely 10 mins later. Boooo... This is taking me forever to finish. Now I to have purchase a glue-gun *sigh*

Hot geeks

2009-08-07T15:31:00.004+01:00

I was talking to S the other day, and she mentioned that she's not into geeks. They're just not hot enough *grin*

WELL... On my quest to find something to do with my time the other day, I stumbled across this MAKE video:

Besides the fact that these guys are hilarious, Joe Grand (on the left) is pretty cute :)

There's always David Heinemeier Hansson too. The Google-O'Reilly Hacker of the Year for 2005 :) Also Wired's Hottest Hacker on earth *grin*

To be honest, I find the geeky guys more interesting than the other types of stereotype guys. Smarter than the average bear, and always up for some fun. I think a lot of their attitude comes from their unwillingness to leave childhood behind *grin* Always with the latest toys, gadgets, video games, comics... Hrm, ok, maybe I have a thing for geeks because I like playing with their possessions :P See, I don't just go for looks, I go for material things too ;)

Wi-fi&Coffee sniffer

2009-08-05T16:28:00.006+01:00

If that was a profession, I'd be r0ckstar at it.

Mm, one good thing about having soo much time on my hands is that I can now tell you where to go in central Rondon for:
:: Good coffee
:: Wi-fi, portugese tarts and coffee
:: Almond croissant, Belgian hazelnut spread and wi-fi
:: Cocktails and wi-fi
:: More good coffee
:: Wi-fi and a nice park bench
:: Extra-hot burritos (num numm numm) and coffee
:: Cakes and coffee
:: Wi-fi and tea
:: Wi-fi and falafel

I can even tell you where to stand at Broadway Markets so you can get a Wi-fi signal. This is what happens when you own an iPhone that doesn't have 3G ;)

Or more accurately, this is what happens when you're addicted to email and can't resist knowing if people love you enough to email within the hour or two you've been away from your pooter *ahem*

Special mention to The Espresso Room :) Greeeat coffee, and Ben, the guy who runs it geeked out over explaining how he made my coffee. It's been a long while since I spoke to anyone that passionate about what they do... It's a nice change :) Hrm, he's probably also the only one who didn't balk at my, "You need to invest in a slave-munkey to do your dirty work" idea... There you go -
:: Good coffee and sense of humour.

"The One Day..."

2009-08-05T15:52:00.005+01:00

It's The One Day that I decide not to put my contacts in.
It's the same day that I walk straight onto a film location and only notice the giant camera infront of me when it's a couple of meters away. I shrug, go for my caffeine hit and walk back to my gym.

Right outside my gym, everyone is crowding around looking at the filming going on.

Me: "Anyone famous?"
Gym Receptionist: "Apparently, Colin Farrell!"
Me: *starstruck gasp* "Where?!? Where?!?"
GR: "Just on the street, behind that car."

I spot a man in a blue suit walking up the street. I do my best squint. I peer. It could be Colin Farrell... Or it could just be a blurry extra in a blurry blue suit :P

It's the same day that I was late for the gym and didn't pack my camera in the bag like I usual do these days.

Gaaaah...

I'll file this away with other like-postings in my mind:
:: The One Day I didn't shave my armpits and then went arms-in-the-air-dancing.
:: The One Day I didn't bother to check myself before leaving the house and then bumped into a good-looking guy.
:: The One Day I decided to skip on "pruning hedges" and... HAH! Not telling, get back to work ;)

What now?

2009-08-01T10:33:00.004+01:00

Several ice-walls, a couple of waterlogged experiences, some foggy mountains, 5 Italian villages, an English dreamhouse, 200km of dusty Cuban road, lots of ocean paddling, some all-night dancing thrown in, 1 month of ungodly studying for a very boring exam...

What now? :)

Yes. Still looking for that elusive j.o.b. Don't you worry :P In the meantime, I've discovered that I need something to keep myself occupied. Getting certified isn't the answer. I've spent the past few weeks keeping a low-profile because I've been studying. Which is quite hard to do when I haven't done it since... gawd, Uni?!? Everyday, I sat in a cafe and nursed a coffee for 3 hours while I read a chapter and scribbled notes. My handwriting has definitely become more illegible over the years.

Never thought I'd be so happy to see the index page of a book.

A friend gave me a Mills&Boon book to reward myself with whilst studying. I was suppose to read a chapter from the textbook, and a chapter from the M&B book each day. Only problem is, I finished the M&B book by the third day. That was me trying to hold back :P I honestly don't know how some of my friends have decided to go back to Uni again. I guess it would make a difference if I was studying something I was interested in.

I mean, which would you rather read?
"Strategy is the direction and scope of an organisation over the long term, which achieves advantage for the organisation through its configuration of resources within a changing environment and to fulfil stakeholder expectations."
OR;
"She could only stare as he dropped his shorts and boxers in one smooth move, leaving him standing naked and magnificent in front of her... He shot her a very saucy look, then turned upward toward the river bank. She watched his perfect butt until it disappeared into the water."

Exactly ;)

Question!

2009-07-22T22:31:00.006+01:00

I could only ask an EastRondoner this...

Me: "Are Pikeys real?!?"
J: "Well I haven't come across any lately, but..."
Me: "What, you mean they're not in your backyard these days?" *grin*
Snatch, it's still one of my fave all-time movies :)

And now... Meatfest:

(Top-left is what a 1kg steak looks like!)
My lobster bisque entree?!?

Just kidding, here tis!

le 600g T-Bone
(did you know, one side is Porterhouse, and the other Fillet?)

le 350g New York Strip Steak
Num numm nummm indeedy!

Goodman! Thoroughly recommend it. Little bit on the salty-well-seasoned side, however, great cuts of beef.

Stick yer arm out!

2009-07-22T21:32:00.004+01:00

Me: "Do you mind if I take a picture of your tattoo?"
Random Guy: "Yeah owright, but quickly, I've got a train to catch..."

Err, unfortunately for me, I've had a Bloody Mary + pint of lager + half a bottle o'red. Enough to make me not focus properly...

iPhone DIY

2009-07-20T16:42:00.004+01:00

If you're anything like me, you probably don't deserve nice, expensive playthings because it'd slip through your butterfingers and break/crack/die pretty soon after you buy it.

My iPhone has survived 20 months living with me and it's barely in one piece. Poor thing. Today I decided to replace the antenna cover. Here's a DIY site on how to take your iPhone apart. Here's where you can get cheapie iPhone spare parts. Gawd I love the internets :)

S asked me recently if I wanted to swap my 1st-gen iPhone with her 3G iPhone since she only used her's for weather updates. I looked at her as if she was crazy and an impolite, "NO WAY!" slipped out of my mouth. I also constantly get friends asking me why I don't get a cover for my iPhone to protect it.

I loves my iPhone. I love how it looks. I love its dents, its scratches, its mini patch of lines on the left side of the screen. I love how I hacked it with a chip back in the early days! It's got personality and history. I've taken it everywhere with me over the past 20 months. It doesn't need some pansy-fancy-schmancy ugly cover for protection (sorry if you've got one *grin*). Like me, it just needs a new dress to spruce it up once in awhile ;)

I'm not giving up on it yet.

Trying hard

2009-07-19T02:28:00.005+01:00

... to be a hat person:

(focus on teh VW ring instead ;) )

This isn't me :)

It's a bit dark in here (B would hearts this place):

I plonk myself down at a table of random guys.
Me: "SO. I want you guys to answer a question for me..."
<<insert macho chit chat here>>
Guy 1: "What do you want to know?"
Me: "If you went home with a girl tonight. And she took all her clothes off, and she was totally hot... And she asked you for 50 quid - What would you do?"
Guy 2: "I'd pay it if she was hot!!"
Guy 1: "There's no way I'd pay it. I would never pay for sex0r."
Me: "LIAR, you'd *so* pay for it." *grin*
Guy 3: "If she went home with me, she's got to like me right? I'd pay her 8 quid!"
Me: "WHAAAT?!? She went home with you because she knows you've got 50 quid in your wallet! Cheapskate!"

Aaah, if only they knew I have a blog :P

Fluff attack!

2009-07-18T20:13:00.006+01:00

W00t W00t!
Yup, Dance Valley's still as cool as I remembered it 5 years ago :)

At least this time, I made it to Armin's set *lol*

And this time, WE WERE FLUFFIED UP!

Don't ask where the fluff came from...
(Nobody likes Bert very much anyway *grin*)

Which Saturday?

2009-07-16T22:21:00.007+01:00

If told that something is happening, "Next Saturday", I'd assume it was the first Saturday I'd experience. I've been chastised! Next Saturday apparently means the Saturday after the coming Saturday :P

If you ask me (and you-know-who-you-are-who-asked-me), I'm taking the literal definition of "Next". Ie: Coming immediately after.

This coming Saturday == Next Saturday;

So be careful when making dates with me :P
(PS: Please vote - poll on sidebar)

One last...

2009-07-15T22:55:00.005+01:00

Recently in the Rondon news, there's a "scandalous" story of an elderly couple committing suicide together in Switzerland. Sir Edward Downes was 85, a distinguished conductor, losing his sight and hearing. His wife, Lady Joan Downes, was 74, a British Royal Ballet dancer, diagnosed terminally ill with cancer.

Half the population condemns them - "His-and-hers convenience deaths have cheapened life".

And I wonder... Could I ever sacrifice myself for the One? Would I ever allow the One to take his own life for my sake? Could I live on without the One?

It's a poignant story.

I don't know how to answer those questions.

I think what Sir and Lady Downes did was immensely brave and selfless.

I think if it was my last moment with the One, I'd want one... last... lingering... kiss... hand-in-hand.

Bravo Sir and Lady Downes.

Po-po-po-poker-face!

2009-07-15T01:16:00.005+01:00

Happy hour cocktails + a beer + vodka:

A precious ticket to Lady Gaga @ Brixton Academy:

I have to say, Lady Gaga is so much fun to watch :)
If you get the chance to watch her, don't miss it!

Another one

2009-07-10T13:00:00.005+01:00

I made this recently as a gift for K. That night, I was in a mad rush, and didn't really sleep before my flight to NYC. As I made it, I thought about K a lot. Over the decade of D&Ms I've had with K, he's always the one that emerges with the most optimistic end-game.

No matter the hurt...

... K's heart never gives up ;)

I really wish I could learn that from K. Loves ya man! *muah*

15 mins of my day

2009-07-08T20:56:00.006+01:00

Spent popping into Lazarides gallery. I'd love to invest in art pieces. I keep forgetting that there's more to life than spending money on holidays *grin* If I had a spare 6K squiddies, I'd love to buy this piece from Antony Micallef. Or this one. Coooome on Euromillions *grin*

Anyways, currently on exhibition at Lazarides is,
"Scratching the Surface" by Alexandre Farto (aka Vhils):

From what I've read on Wooster:
"Vhils' portriats (sic) are made using acid and bleach, as they eat into surfaces to expose layers of posters beneath."

This guy's been doing streetart since he was 13!! ... Makes me wish I had talent...

What's he saying?

2009-07-07T23:23:00.004+01:00

Unfortunately, I totally sux0rz at understanding Scottish accents :P
(... and I use to work for a Scottish company!)

Which meant, I missed about half of what Irvine Welsh (author of "Trainspotting"), was reading to me from his new book. I heard him say "f*ck" and "c*nt" a lot. Yup, those words sound the same in any accent :P

To be honest, I remember being frustrated with how "Trainspotting" was written. I liked the movie much better.

Like my coffee?

2009-07-07T22:40:00.006+01:00

It was tamped and pulled by the 2009 World Barista Champion ;)

Believe it or not, the champion is ~~a Welshman~~ an Englishman living in Rondon. Who would've thought that the nation with the worst coffee brewers in the world would also have the best? Gwilym owns a couple of unnamed coffee carts in a couple of Rondon markets. Which makes him dang hard to locate :P The only tell-tale sign I had was the Square Mile coffee logo on the coffee grinder. On my first attempt at Whitecross Market, I found the cart but the man wasn't there. I had an average coffee made by an average coffee-pleb :P

My next attempt was at Columbia Flower Market. If you're looking for Gwilym, walk to the end of Columbia road, turn left down a little alley, lookout for "Breakfast & Coffee" signs, and a bluey-green door marked 7b. I think it's Ezra Street. Inside, there's a courtyard with Gwilym's carts. Why on earth don't any of the reviews I've read mention his location?!? :P

Look out for this cool stencil opposite the bluey-green door:

So, how was my coffee that was tamped by a World Champion? Meh. Average *grin* Come on, how extraordinary can you make a normal latte taste? I still thought Flat White did a better latte, but Gwilym won the championship with an exotic espresso tasting of, "hot buttered toast smothered in blackberry jam, along with black currant and some toffee at the end". Not a plain old latte.

Diskies' "Sunny" :)

Conflicting emotions

2009-07-02T15:22:00.006+01:00

I will spend my squiddies on flights at a blink of a squinty eye. Yet it took me about 3 weeks of self-cajoling and two passes of the shop, to make this purchase:

It's a Vivienne Westwood skull ring :) Also quite possibly, my first designer purchase. I know... Me, designer jewellery and skulls? The end is nigh :P

On one hand - I feel like a crack whore mother who's run off with my babies' milk money and sold off their nappies on eBay, in order to afford this ring. Talk about extravagant spending during tough times.

On my right hand ;) - Maaan, this ring is cool *grin* Now I have an heirloom for my crack babies to fight over!

Rockin with a Rock God

2009-07-02T01:10:00.006+01:00

Recently, instead of buying clothes online when drunk, I purchase gig tickets instead :P Which is how I ended up watching Lenny Kravitz tonight *grin*

Dear lord. 18 years since I first listened to Lenny Kravitz. He hasn't lost his sexy, sultry, edge at all. 18 years and I can still remember the chorus to his songs :) By the end of his first song, I had left the angsty crowd at the front of the stage. Clambering up between 2 poles on the side, I had a clear view of the stage and Lenny all night *grin*

W00t w00t! Lenny rocked my world :) More drunken gig ticket purchases!

Oakey?

2009-07-02T00:40:00.004+01:00

...Is that really you?

Unfortunately, he still has that bad haircut that makes him look like a girl. Hard to believe that Paul Oakenfold was once voted the #1 DJ in DJMag. The same spot Armin currently holds, the same spot PvD and Tiesto held... And I'll admit it, I was a fan of Oakey back in the days when Global Underground first kicked off. Back in the days when I was the only one in my circle of friends listening to prog house. I'm just quite surprised that he's still alive and playing...
... in Brixton...
... as the supporting act for Lenny Kravitz?!?

The other weird part is how unfriendly the crowd at Brixton Academy were. As I shuffled my way into the crowd, I got evil stares and harsh comments about pushing to the front. In all the times I've made my way to the front of a gig, I'd never come across hostility before. Come on, it's not like at my height of 5 feet nothing I was going to block anyone's view. These people seriously needed to lighten up. Drink more. Or something.

Irate Girl: "Do you mind? I've been here for an hour, and you've been here for 15 mins". She'd left her spot and come back 5 mins later. My theory is, once you're gone, it's anybody's game.
Me: "Sure, move and I'll step back."
Irate Girl's bf glares at me.

Hey, it's not my fault people aren't smart enough to figure out how gig-crowds work. Nobody should be forced to stand around listening to Oakey play for an hour just to end up near the front ;)

My question is:

2009-06-27T01:51:00.003+01:00

:: Where the hell are my DJ Gods?
:: Where have all the loved-up clubbers gone?
:: Why am I having such difficulty finding a good venue?
:: Where has the good music gone?

I end up at MoS, one of my least favourite places. I'm overdressed. I'm in my pretty patent heels. No dancing for me tonight. By accident, I look like one of those pretentious twits at a dance club. The ones who I usually snigger at *sigh* What's happened?

It's funny watching couples at MoS dance together. They face each other but they completely avoid eye contact *lol*

I miss Turnmills. Badly.

I left at 1am. M.I.K.E was just boring the shits out of me. Think I'll cheer myself up with a Vivienne Westwood skull ring later today.

Non-sequitur

2009-06-26T00:23:00.004+01:00

Ok, this one's my fault. I kinda knew what to expect. It's my fault for knowing and still going ahead and organising a ketchup session. After all, Self-Absorbed had been hassling me for awhile to get together. That's gotta be a sign that S-A cares about me, right?

Sure enough, as time ticks closer, I get a message to push back dinner by an hour. Just as I'm about to leave the house. Later, as I sit at the bar waiting, S-A is running late (even though S-A is coming from down the road) and calls me 4 times in the space of 15 mins to find out where the restaurant is. I gulp down my drink - because this *always* happens. Even when I email the address, full postcode, and even Google map links - this ALWAYS happens.

Sure enough, the dinner conversation is the same. S-A's stressful job, S-A's disatisfaction with partner's lack of ambitions, S-A's blah blah blah.

S-A: "So where you going after dinner?"
Me: "I'm going to this performance art thing called Shunt. Meant to be really good... Do you go out much these days?"
S-A: "No. You know the project I'd been working on?"
Me: "Yeah..."
S-A: "We won a best project award for it!"
Me: "Ok..." (expecting a good story about Big-Team-Celebratory-Night-Out-At-Cool-Rondon-Joint)
S-A: "It was like an awards night for management consulting. We beat all the other consultants! It's really prestigious blah blah blah!"
Me: "Oh... OH. Well. Done."

I hear a mental click as I realise I'm suppose to give S-A a pat on the back *sigh* Why do I bother... I can't tell, am I suppose to be impressed? Or envious? Do I look like a girl who cares about a consulting awards night? :P It's not to say I don't care about work challenges, but... where the hell was the substance?!? Was it about using available technology innovatively? Nope...

In my mind, as hard as I tried, even with the booze, I couldn't help thinking, "Why do I bother?"

New York in stereo

2009-06-23T20:44:00.006+01:00

I'm walking in the rain with my hoodie up. I'm surprisingly used to rain now :) Tiesto plugged in, deep beats playing as I run across giant wet streets.

"Wasted all this time, searching...
Brought me to my knees..."

10am, sitting on a bench outside Balthazar waiting for the girls. The Ting Tings rocking through me.

"Folks got high at a quarter to five,
Don't you feel you're growing up undone!
...Imagine all the girls - ah ah ah aaah ah ah ah!"

Catching the metro downtown with PvD and a perfectly timed track.

"I watch the sky turn black to blush,
Head still spinning from the rush,
Of all the things I did the night before...
And looking down from my hotel,
These dawn lits streets begin to fill,
With memories of you and I...
On a New York City night..."

I like this. It's like I'm watching New York as a 24/7 movie. The personal soundtrack puts an even bigger smile on my face. Suddenly being unemployed isn't such a bad thing. Not when I get the rare chance to ketchup with those I hearts. Lots of giggling, lots of cocktails and beers, hotdogs in a phonebooth bar, taxidermied animals, peeking through holes in fences, *squeealing* out loud Bon Jovi lyrics somewhere on Avenue C... It's just me being... happy (^_^)

Gracias especiales:
:: AdF, PdF & SH for the birthday flight over :D
:: Pepper Pants *grin*, Tocca, SM & H for the good times. Again! Again! :D *MUAH*

It bothers me...

2009-06-17T11:32:00.005+01:00

... that the British Computing Society can make a registration process unnecessarily convoluted and ugly:

Each dropdown populates the next dropdown. So if you pick the wrong one, you have to go through the freaking list to find the right one which populates the next dropdown correctly. Filling it out should take me 10 seconds, and instead takes me at least a minute or two.

*sigh* Here I am, back to j.o.b hunting (I still don't like talking about it, so quit asking), and reading job descriptions requiring certification from this bunch of "elitists". It makes me want to hunt down the person who wrote the job description and smack them over the head. "LOOK, these people can't even get a registration form right, and you want me to pay good squiddies to get certified by them? They're giving real IT people a bad name!" :P

Dang...

2009-06-13T23:29:00.002+01:00

Posh nosh

2009-06-13T23:26:00.008+01:00

Mushiejc, spot the truffle brie! *grin*

14 bottles, I tasted em all...

...to the point when I thought Rondon rooftops were da bomb...

... and then I started macro'ing the toilet (sshhh, don't tell T&D)...

... and I bumped into an unlikely couple on the way out *grin*

Feasibility

2009-06-13T18:16:00.005+01:00

For those of you who constantly look at me like I'm crazy when I talk about my Fetish House of Ill Repute, look!

Proof that there *are* people out there who are interested in sex with midgets and giants :P Above are keyword searches which led to my blog.

Nyer nyer nyer.

Head in the clouds

2009-06-13T16:50:00.005+01:00

Otherwise known as "hangover". I hit the booze hard last night to make the music bearable *grin* Unfortunately, it means I wake up today with my brain refusing to communicate with the rest of me.

In my foggy headspace, I wander over to La Fromagerie to pick up some truffle brie for tonight's wine tasting. Still unable to shake the fog off, I head over to Flatwhite and bunk myself on the bench outside for some people watching. I'm sitting at a dingy sidestreet, surrounded by horrendous Engrish architecture.

This is great! :) The sun's out, the backstreet's buzzy with the masses. I unplug myself and listen for once. I listen to the eastern European couple argue. I listen to those beside me marvel over how good a flatwhite is. I giggle at the camp guy who squeals exactly like I would, when a young girl collides into him. I sit and watch the free fashion show provided by chic Engrish trendoid youths walking past. I could never pull off what they wear. I wish I could :)

With the headfog finally lifting, I heave myself off the bench and head for the tube before the truffle brie goes rank in the sun. Rondon has one more surprise for me today. Don't look too closely *grin*

4am: Lightbox

2009-06-13T04:20:00.004+01:00

One of those nights... We did our research. We headed out. We almost got separated at Baker Street. *Someone* doesn't take the chance as the tube doors slam shut. I raced on ahead, making it a close call as the doors swoosh close behind me. Luckily, the conductor takes pity on B and reopens the doors just for her *grin* Slowass! ;)

We ended up at the front door of Ghost. It was deadly quiet. Not a beat or soul in sight. Doors shut tight. Wtf? Ironically, it's the most appropriately named bar-slash-club.

Well then. All dressed up. Needs _somewhere_ to go.

Next on the list, Lightbox in Vauxhall. Beating the midnight tube curfew, we hop on a carriage and head to Bandit Country (South of the River).

It's actually a pretty cool venue :) The entire room is decked out in LED lights. Pity about the music...

I think, we're just happy to have made it somewhere tonight :) Even if it did take an hour and a half and a giant circle to get there *grin*

Holiday reading

2009-06-08T12:20:00.006+01:00

Hrm, overall:
:: Loved The Old Man and the Sea, and Lord of the Flies.
:: Not a fan of The Sun Also Rises (the book which made Pamplona famous) and The Great Gatsby. Started out well, then just bored me.
:: Hated The Unbearable Lightness of Being. For a book with such a catchy title, it sure sucked the life out of me. Have you ever read books which made you want to throw it against a wall in frustration because the storyline went nowhere? Or it just kept making "enlightening" observations every few pages as subtly as a smack to the head by a 2x4 filled with rusty nails? This is it.

Where have I been?

2009-06-05T22:03:00.014+01:00

Topping up my tan in Ibiza :)

(kudos: vision7media - Thanks Paul! :) )

Our very neon hotel:

Dinner @ Pacha:

Throw in Space Opening in the middle:

(Proud of myself - white dress stayed white!)

Finished up with cocktails and sunset @ Cafe del Mar:

That's it, no more Ibiza for me. I'm officially getting off the Venga bus ;) (Erm, but could potentially be coaxed back on for an Armada night :P )

M-San: You should've been there!!! *accusatory glare*

Other people's tattoos

2009-06-03T22:57:00.006+01:00

Think I'll start taking pix of other people's tattoos...

... just for fun :)

It's not a good thing

2009-06-03T22:01:00.007+01:00

CH: "Hey, those guys were checking you out."
Me: "Oh good, they're old, and have bellies!"
... Later on...
CH: "Did you think that guy was hot?"
Me: "NO!"
CH: "Well, he was checking you out."

This isn't the first time something like this has happened. My travelling companion in Reykjavik thought he was being helpful when he pointed out that men with big bulgy tummies in banana hammocks, had been "oggling" me as I got out of the spa.

It's enough to make me... turn :P

Knowing my luck though, I'll be getting checked out by grandmas with saggy b00bies instead *sigh* Come on. It's not really that flattering to be checked out by the completely wrong demographic. I'd rather not know! So to all my guy mates, unless you can differentiate between Brad Pitt and Mr Bean, stop letting me know! *lol*

Now, check out this guy on the far left!

I don't think he's hot, but he obviously does *big grin* He stood frozen with the Blue Steel look on his face for at least a good 10 mins.

So I challenged Niffies to ask him for a photo *lol*

10 points Niffies :) Well done!

@$*# hippies!!

2009-05-28T00:17:00.007+01:00

I guess I should've read through the website more thoroughly... Because I sure wasn't expecting a HIPPY COMMUNE :P

I don't know, you tell me.

Does this (from the website):

Look like this (IRL)?

I guess, what I'm shitty about is that I paid a LOT of money and was totally unprepared for:
:: The lack of meat in my meals (I guess, one solar panel is not enough to justify a fridge);
:: The freaking cold showers;
:: The lack of heating in my tipi;
:: The holes in my tipi;
:: The freaking mossie invasion (I suspect because there's a pool of stagnant water closeby);
:: The numerous bugs in my bed when I woke up;
:: The freezing temperatures (lucky I brought my thermals, because those ended up as pajamas every night);
:: The beach that wasn't on my doorstep;
:: The lazyass surf instructor.

I wouldn't be so upset if I hadn't paid _so_much_squiddies_ for the experience. Where the f*ck did my squiddies go?

Even more upsetting to me is - at the time, I was reading about Fidel roughing it out in the jungles and sugar cane fields with his compañeros. He was a leader who would never ask more than he could give, from his team. Whilst me, the rest of the group and the hippies (aka WWOOF'ers *blah*) were roughing it out in this valley in the middle of nowhere, the creator of this "retreat" was living it up in a civilised town. That's right, he wasn't living by his creed. He had internets :P This picture of him here, that's *definitely* NOT what he looks like now :P

Commendable aspects:
:: The eco toilet was suprisingly clean, albeit out in the open. I just had to remember to mark every bowel movement.
:: The Anusara yoga was awesome :) I never slept in because I wanted to make it to yoga in the mornings.

Oh, the surfing. No, I didn't stand up. I was too busy trying to paddle out!!! It was really nice to finally see an European beach with surf though :) I loved it, so didn't really care that I couldn't surf because I was still out in the turbulent waters. Finally!

Btw, Faro is the City of Geriatrics. I have never been on an Easyjet flight filled with OLD people before. All jostling to get onto the plane first. It's bizarre. I imagine this is where European grannies and gramps go "out to pasture".

The "Dinner Party" question

2009-05-25T00:03:00.006+01:00

The last time I was asked, "Dead or alive, who would you invite to a dinner party?" I answered, "Fidel Castro". I got a look of surprise back from the Questioner.
Me: "What's wrong with Fidel? I would love to know what he's thinking."
Mate: "Well yeah, but it's a dinner party. He's not going to be very entertaining."

Next time I'm at a dinner party at this guy's place, I'm going to pull out a cute wittle bunny wabbit and feed it an acid-laced carrot...

I've spent the last week reading Fidel's biography, My Life, by Ignacio Ramonet. It's written in a Q&A format, with Fidel answering everything from his childhood, the battle at Moncada Barracks, the day Batista was overthrown, the Bay of Pigs, the Cuban Missile Crisis, his friendship with Che, Cuba's relationship with USSR, Latin America and Africa... I can't put it down. It's been *such* a long time since I've been this engrossed with a book. I don't read non-fiction books that often either.

Fidel was only 27 when he started the revolution. At 32, he had led the revolution to victory. That's what I call a five year plan! Fidel is living history. Love him or hate him, it's really hard not to admire him for all he's lived through in the past 50 years; for his ideals as a revolutionary and for all he gave of himself for his country.

I've included excerpts from the book below. I really recommend you read it for yourself though.

(No cute wittle bunny wabbits were hurt in this blog post *grin*)

Did you and your followers use terrorism, for example, against Batista's forces? Or assassinations?
Neither terrorism or assasinations. You know, we were against Batista but we never tried to assassinate him, and we could have done it... The men who attacked the Moncada fortress could have assassinated Batista on his farm, or on the road, the way Trujillo and other tyrants were killed, but we had a very clear idea: assassination does not solve the problem. They'll put someone else in the place of the man you killed, and the man you killed becomes a martyr to his people.

They also engaged in biological warfare against Cuba, sending in unknown viruses, I believe.
In 1971, under Nixon, the swine fever virus was introduced into Cuba in a container, according to a CIA source. And we had to sacrifice more than half a million hogs. That virus, which originated in Africa, was totally unknown on the island until then. And they introduced it twice.

And there were worse things than that: the type II dengue virus, which often produces potentially fatal haemorrhagic fevers in the human being. That was in 1981, and more than 350,000 people were infected; 158 people died, 101 of them children... The virus serotype was completely unknown at the time anywhere in the world; it had been created in a laboratory.

Attempts on your life?
There were dozens of plans, some of which came very close to succeeding. In all, of plans that there are records of, there were over 600.

... Chance sometimes intervened against them. There was an agent who had a cyanide pill and was about to put it into a chocolate milkshake in this place I often went to, a coffee shop in the Hotel Havana Libre. Fortunately, the ampoule froze, and just as he was about to throw it in, he realised that it was stuck to the ice in the freezer he'd put it in.

... In another assassination attempt, they planned to use a chemical agent that produced effects similar to LSD to contaminate the air in a TV studio where I went to make speeches on the radio. Another time they sprayed lethal poison on a package of cigarettes that I was suppose to smoke.

B.I.N.G.O!

2009-05-17T03:05:00.004+01:00

It's not just for old people. Well, it's for old people who want to feel hip and cool for attending something called "Underground Rebel Bingo" *grin*

Elvis?

And then there was the sausage chopping incident:

Think I'll leave out the messy end-of-night pix ;)

The People (cubana cinco)

2009-05-17T02:12:00.006+01:00

My perception of Cuban people changed dramatically over 24 hours. On my first day in Habana, I was talking to anyone who wanted to talk to me. Everywhere I went, whenever I stopped, *someone* always wanted to talk to me. You know me, I'll talk to anyone... until I got hustled a couple of times. Unfortunately, the few who took advantage of my friendliness, ruined it for everyone else. After that, I refused to talk to anyone.

I guess everyone does what has to be done to survive in a bad economy, but I hate the fact that I'm forced to doubt anyone's intention.

This is me, minding my own business, with
Hemingway's "The Old Man and the Sea" just infront of my hotel:
(Notice the white speck at the top right corner)

This is me, reading for a few minutes:

This is what I saw when I looked up:

DUHN-DUNH-DERN!!! *Egad*
Err, harro... weren't you a speck less than 10 mins ago?!?
"No, I don't want to salsa with you no matter how many times you ask" :P

Not all Cubans are after my money...
There's an ice-cream parlour called Coppelia in Habana Vedado. It's *the* place to go to for ice-cream. There are unbelievable lines into this place at multiple entrances. Groups are led in by security guards. Unfortunately, if you're a foreigner without local pesos (there are two currencies in this country), you're not allowed in. You're only allowed to order at the ice-cream counter outside. Guess who didn't have any local pesos? So after talking to the security guard in my pitiful Spanish, I ended up waiting in the foreigner line. After awhile, the security guard takes pity on me, shoves 10 local pesos into my hand, and tells me to go in with the next group into Coppelia.

What I see are stools lining a long bar, with large white freezers against the walls. Chuffed that I beat the local crowds, I take a seat at an empty stool and order fresa. Out comes a plate with five giant scoops of strawberry and something else *shrug* Hey, I got my ice-cream, I ain't complaining.

As I leave Coppelia, I find the security guard to thank him and offer him foreign pesos in return. He refuses my money and says it was his treat. That's a nice change :)

Then he starts asking me which hotel I'm staying at. Then he starts giving me knowing raised eyebrow looks. That's when I made my exit :P

Maybe not all Cubans are after my money, but my booty's a pretty high price to pay for five scoops of ice-cream!

Revolution anyone? (cubana cuatro)

2009-05-13T23:37:00.009+01:00

(Note: If you can't see the slideshow in your reader, go to the post)
The timing of my trip to Havana was spot-on, with the 50th year of celebrating Revolution Day. Yup, Fidel has stood up to the US for 50 years. Did you know Fidel holds the record for the longest speech ever delivered at United Nations, clocking in at 4 hours and 29 mins. His longest speech on record in Cuba is 7 hours and 10 mins!! This is a man with plenty to say.

Fidel addressing the masses at Revolution Square in 1960:

With loud speakers blaring, "Viva Raul y Fidel! Viva Cuba!" over and over again, thousands of people parade through Revolution Square with slogans, flags and posters of Che and Fidel.

Revolution Square today:

Can you spot Raul Castro? :)

Here he is!

Viva Revolution! Viva Cuba Libre!

Someone famous

2009-05-12T16:46:00.005+01:00

I was a bit bummed that he was sitting infront of the window and I couldn't get a good shot of him.

So I rushed out of the room when the talk was over and stalked him for a photo instead *grin* Who is he? CHARLIE KAUFMAN - screenplay writer for one of my fave films, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind! :)

(Look, he's even got his arm around me, hehe :) )

I was going to ask him what he thought about people downloading his films as opposed to watching them in the cinema, but didn't want to risk getting dirty looks from the man who created one of the best films I've ever watched! This time, he's written and directed a new film called, Synedoche, New York. I'm not a fan of Phil Hoffman, but I wasn't a fan of Jim Carrey either before I watched Eternal Sunshine, so who knows.

This city is like a random event generator. On any given day, there's always something on, and if I can make it, there's usually a happy ending :)

Introducing (cubana tres)

2009-05-10T21:25:00.005+01:00

(Note: If you can't see the slideshow in your reader, go to the post)

... my bicycle!!!

A little on the heavy side, lots of gears (which I had no idea how to use), no suspension, and... my feet could barely touch the pedals :P AND, even though it made me pee blood, I still fell in love with my bicycle *grin* After cycling 60kms for approximately 4 hours, I was in pain. That wasn't the worrying part. I started to worry when I stopped feeling pain. By Day 3, I was numb downstairs. I didn't think that was a good sign. I don't understand how guys do long distance cycling at all!

Was it all worth the nerve damage?

There were times when the road wound downhill amongst an almost jungle-like backdrop. I cranked up my gears, stood up tall on my bike with the pedals positioned horizontally, squeezed the seat between my thighs in a vain attempt to stop me flying off over potholes, and I went *zoOMMM* around the whirly bends! I couldn't stop grinning the entire time :) I wanted to stop for photos, but I wanted more just to make the thrill last longer. So I kept going, and I found myself crying out loud, "AWEEESOME!" to noone but the turkey vultures circling gracefully above me.

There were times when I felt the Cuban sun burning my back. When I looked up ahead, and saw the road shimmering like liquid. I was averaging about 1.5L of water each day, yet never felt the need to pee as the Cuban sun sweated it all out of me from the moment I got on the bike. Times when I thought I'd choke to death on fumes spewed out by lorries filled with people waving to me as they passed by. There were a couple of times, when I just toppled off my bike *sheepish grin* To be fair, both times happened while I was trying to change gears going uphill. Do you know how hard it is to get back on a bike on a hill?!?

I wanted a challenge, and that's what I got every time I hopped onto that bicycle. Everyday, I saw something new. So yeah, throw in Fidel's choice of Cohiba and I'd say it was worth it all :)

(PS: If someone could explain to me how to change gears on a bike without my feet flying off, I'd really appreciate it!)

The streets of Habana Vieja (cubana dos)

2009-05-07T18:32:00.005+01:00

(Note: If you can't see the slideshow in your reader, go to the post)
... ring aloud with cries of, "Chee-na! Chee-na-Chee-na! Cheeee-na!!!!"

*sigh*

Each cry gets louder with each step I take, as each guy (only once from a girl) assumes I'm deaf for ignoring him. As I wander through the poorly lit streets of Old Habana back to my casa particular, Cuban guys whisper seedy nothings to me as they pass by. Seriously, you'd think a city with a Chinatown would be more used to the sight of an oriental? (-_-) I'm even impressed they could tell I'm oriental with my giant sunnies on *grin*

The funny thing about Habana is, my life couldn't be safer here. Violent crime is low and everyone is just curious. They're just curious in the wrong way. Mixed with bad street lighting, an almost slum-like atmosphere (2.7 houses collapse every few days), blatant stares and kissy kissy sounds, I can't help but clutch onto my bag for dear life.

I thought Cuba would transport me back to a frozen time. It's true what you hear about Cubans driving around in huge American Chevys and Buicks. Also Soviet Ladas *grin* What I didn't expect were the regular Japanese cars too. Hyundai, Toyota, Kia, Mitsubishi, Mercs and Audis, all here. It's an odd mix.

The more days I spent in Habana, the more I felt confused about whether what I was seeing was real...

Cuban wildlife (cubana una)

2009-05-06T16:10:00.006+01:00

I'm back! With a weird tan, but a tan nonetheless. An impressive tan for Rondon anyway ;) Here's a taster of what's to come in the Cubana series. Believe me, I had plenty time to jot away on my wuvvy iPhone.

One of the best things in Rondon is that roaches don't really exist. Giant rabid rats yes, roaches no. So I almost screamed when I walked into the bathroom of my casa particular and saw this:

It was freaking HUUUGE. It made me soo paranoid, I kept poking my head out of the shower to check out where it was in the bathroom. Normally I'm not squeamish, but I just couldn't get the courage to do the Old-Wrap-In-Toilet-Paper-And-Flush-It trick with this guy. Especially since toilet paper doesn't really flush in Cuban toilets. Nothing creepier than sitting on the bowl and having a roach crawl up your buttocks *shudder* So I locked it into the bathroom for the night :P

Next up, we have the Cuban delicacy - Frito Fly *grin*

I uncovered the fly riiiight at the bottom of my pile of patatas fritas. I guess it's no worse than having my food handscooped when I was in Bolivia :)

Cuban food has been hit and miss. Lots of very ordinary rice and beans with chicken. Some extraordinary beef (ropa vieja), and even a sumptuous feast prepared on a farm by a 60 year old grandma who looked like she could wrestle a 300 pound sow.

All I can say is, I was shocked my tummy survived unscathed! I've even been regular like clockwork, which didn't happen to me in Morocco or Japan. Must be M-San jinxing me both those times ;)

Mr Darcy's house

2009-04-23T23:54:00.005+01:00

You know, Mr Darcy... The one from Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice? His house, as in PEMBERLEY. The one that's used in the BBC production!

We tried hard to get S to put on a white pirate shirt and jump into the lake for us. He wasn't sold on the idea. We opted for getting trashed at our hotel instead *grin*

There's not much to do in Disley, where Pemberley (Lyme Park IRL) is, however, once in awhile, it's great to get out of Rondon and chillout in the countryside. Especially when the sun's out :) Endless rolling hills in every direction I looked :)

And that's how I spent my third anniversary of living in Rondon. That and partying in Birmingham with B and Armin the night before *grin*

Here's a clip of the Chaser's War on Everything doing the Mr Darcy test ;)

(PS: Happy Wedding Anniversary U&W! :))

My NEW handbag!

2009-04-22T23:10:00.005+01:00

35L, water-resistant, grey and...

... hecho en Nu-Zeelund! Loves the detail *swoon*

Bought it yesterday :) Wonder if Sparkles took me seriously *grin* Really, I'd love nothing better than to meet a guy who goes well with my Macpac ;)

Here's some of the crap that I have to stuff in it (BYO helmet!). I have 24 hours to pack. My aunt is staying over tomorrow!!

Here's what my hideous padded lycra bicycle pants look like when turned inside out. Yes. It is a giant red rocket :P

40 days later

2009-04-21T23:26:00.003+01:00

I've finally broken the 30 min barrier for 5km :) It was driving me nuts, the previous three times I'd been running, my times were 30:10, 31:something and 30:05 *aaargh* I never thought I'd cut those last few seconds off!!!

Today, I did it in 29:57 (^_^) W00t W00t!

My next challenge? Well, CH stomped on my triumphant run by telling me he runs 4km in 16mins. Which works out to be running at a pace of 15km/hr? *ugh* Dang people with long legs.

I'll be happy if I can run a kilometer in 4 mins. This might take longer than 40 days to achieve... At least I'll look good in people's wedding photos this year *grin*

Gender wars

2009-04-20T20:02:00.003+01:00

Ok, so I've probably laid it on a bit thick with the male ego-bashing lately. To the point where M-San offered to buy me a toy *grin* So, I apologise for that. Part of it comes from the frustration of wrong guys hitting on me (a 22 year old about to be divorced? Come on!). Part of it comes from not having many guys friends in Rondon to keep me grounded when it comes to all topics masculine.

Anyways, I spent this afternoon in a falafel shop pondering whether Sparkles Magoo was right in saying the list I've been writing up (with tongue-in-cheek) was getting long and ridicurous.

None of the things I've listed are particularly gender specific. It's not about what women want, or what men want. What does anyone want in an ideal partner?

:: Who doesn't look for a partner who's funny and sensitive with an all-round great personality? To what degree just depends on the person, and it's all subjective. Whether you're a guy or girl, I doubt you'd pine for someone who bored you to death and couldn't challenge you mentally. For me, it's all about spark. No spark, no chance. I think this ties in with looks. If you're not attracted to someone, you're not going to look at them as anything more than a friend.

:: Decent career prospects - Well, at this moment in time, all I ask for is someone who is financially self-sufficient and can afford to do the things we both want to do. Have you ever dated someone who's in debt or broke all the time? I have. It sux0rz having to pay for things all the time.

:: Commitment-phobe - Why waste time with someone who's not serious about you? I'm not sure how old Sparkles is, but I'm 30. I don't want to waste another 3+ years to find out my partner isn't serious about our future, and then have to start from scratch again.

:: Dancing like an epileptic goat - You know, I don't actually remember making a request for a partner who can dance :) I just like giggling at guys who flail their arms around like lawnmowers and turkeys in clubs *grin*

:: Good s3x0r - I thought about this, and I don't really know why I'm being made to feel bad about wanting good booty. Especially by a guy! Especially since guys have also told me that being good in bed counts! The rough breakdown on this survey (and keep in mind, most of my surveys are conducted under the influence of alcohol *grin*) is:
- 99% of girls and 50% of guys questioned have said, "Yes, good sex is necessary".
- The other girly 1% is my 65 year old aunt who said "It's not all about sex, there's masturbation too" *grin* I'm pretty sure some kittens died when she said that.
- The other 50% of guys said, "I'll take what I can get" *grin*

S3x0r, good or bad, is necessary. I choose to have good booty, just like approximately 74.5% of the sample population ;) I'm young(ish)! I'm fit! I'm still able to enjoy good booty! Why settle for bad booty now?!?

I haven't made any requests for giant diamond rings and luxury goods. All I've asked for, is a guy to at least match what I can offer.

:: "At some point doesn't it just become about I'd like to meet someone who likes/loves me as much as I like/love them (and treats me nicely)?"

I don't know. Do you think love is enough? Will you discount everything else because you're in love? How much can you forgive just because you're in love?

I once thought love would be enough, but I don't anymore. All is not black and white in my world :)

Perfect

2009-04-17T00:43:00.004+01:00

Me: "SS, can I ask you something?"
SS: "Sure, what is it honey?"
Me: "What is your perfect man?"
SS: "I've met him honey. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes..."
... later on ...
SS: "Just so you know, there's no such thing as a perfect man. You have to be happy with what you have."
Me: *whisper* "What if the guy's bad in bed?"
SS: "THEN YOU CHUCK HIM HONEY!"
Me: *lol*

Sorry guys, 100% of my survey results so far have indicated that you have to be good in bed to keep a girl *grin*

Set in stone

2009-04-17T00:30:00.002+01:00

(Or cactus)

Annual dF sighting

2009-04-16T23:43:00.005+01:00

Snow isn't my happy place. There's just too much for me to think about to enjoy snowboarding. Edge edge edge! Balance! Don't kick out my back foot! Look in direction I'm going (sounds simple, but I'm easily bored/distracted :P)!

Way too much noise in my head to chillax.

Not to mention my sixth toe :P

Just so you know, I only did it for YOU GUYS :) Hearts you (^_^) Misses you...

*squish* *squish*

Loves how I will always look tanned next to AdF *grin*

Mmm, garlick es-kart-got...

My first fondue - Sizzling meat in oil!

Cinque Terre (Parte due)

2009-04-16T22:34:00.005+01:00

Fun with the chix0rz whilst waiting for sunset @ Manarola :)

Assimilating rock formation :)

Rock Yoga time!

Sun salutation!

Downward Dog!

I stopped at Tree Pose :P After the Pinot Grigio, I would've fallen off the rock.

Cinque Terre (Parte una)

2009-04-16T21:49:00.007+01:00

Gawd dang fcking Rick Steeves. Until Cinque Terre, I didn't realise how huge an impact he had on North Americans. I've heard his name in the past, from Canadians, from Americans - all vouching for his greatness as a travel writer.

So. You know It's All Gone Pete Tong when tables of American college brats decamp around you. You'll hear "Rick Steeves" mentioned a fair bit. Out of spite, I'm not linking to him and I'm spelling his name wrong :P Rest assured, it's not just Americans. There are tons of loud, annoying Aussies around too. Bizarrely, both nations outnumber the Italianos.

Personally, I loved Cinque Terre for the walk between towns :) It made me want to get outdoors more! I also went wild with the carbs, vino, birra, pastries and machiattos *grin* I'd go back to try out the tougher walking or bike trails.

Spot the B & Diskies ;)

What hurts more

2009-04-15T02:19:00.004+01:00

... than me running at the gym? Watching grown men in Wrestlemania on my treadmill *grin*

To be honest, it makes me sprint for a little longer to think, "That's gotta hurt more than what I'm feeling" when I see this:

(Actual snapshot of my treadmill screen.
*Wow* Treadmills have improved since my uni days!)

I know it looks more painful than it is. I know it's all acting. A part of me is actually sad that the quality just ain't as good as back in the days of Hulk Hogan (gimmick: dousing self in milk before match), Andre the Giant (*perfect* for Fezzik when you think about it), King Kong Bundy (famously broke HH's ribs by sitting on him), Ricky Steamboat (never quite recovered from Randy Savage's blow to the throat) and the Killer Bees tagteam (they use to swap masks under the ring to cheat)! OOOOH, I even remember Mr T entering the ring and whirling a length of chain in a fit of anger at King Kong Bundy for hurting HH!!!

Those were the days when I believed it was all real. Those were the days when I sat next to my Dad and ate roasted peanuts while we watched all the drama unfold on our TV :)

Clicky here for a HH vs KKB match :)

How do you know? (deel drie)

2009-04-15T00:58:00.003+01:00

With a twist -

How do you know that you're not gay? *grin*

It might seem like an odd question but... How can you be sure, if you've never really tried?

For one person I spoke to, she never realised she was gay until another gay friend mentioned the idea to her. She then went to a bookstore and read up on it. After that, then she thought, "Oh, maybe I _am_ gay".

Is it about physical attraction?
I love looking at fit guys *grin*
But...
I love looking at fit girls too *bigger grin* I saw the dance instructor at my gym today, and couldn't help thinking, "She's freaking hot!"

Is it about mental connectivity?
I do get along with guys better than girls, however, only because girls can be more superficial sometimes. It just depends on how deep the friendship goes, and that's regardless of gender. Guys probably just cut through all the crap faster.

Is it about intimacy?
Kissed boys. Kissed girls (made them cry ;) ). No differences there.

So. That just leaves - my short haircut :P It's still confusing though, cause right now, I'm growing it out *grin*

Let me know if you've figured it out for yourself.

A few hours ago

2009-04-14T00:13:00.004+01:00

Guess where I was :)

Watching everyone do the Leaning Tower of Pisa "push" is hilarious *grin* It's actually quite a skill to get it looking right on the camera. Mega-claps to Diskies for doing such a good job! Poor Diskies though, I couldn't quite get it right when it was her turn to do the pose.

What's even more fun is pretending to do high-fives with other tourists doing the Leaning Tower of Pisa "push" pose *lol*

Inflation

2009-04-10T05:30:00.001+01:00

My taan-tat has gone up by 10p each :(
Doesn't Chinatown realise there's a recession going on?

Passé

2009-04-10T04:47:00.003+01:00

Adjective: No longer fashionable; out of date.

Bl00dy Mr 2p. I'll let you remain nameless this time, however only because you've provoked me into this. Yes. I do realise you're baiting me :P That's ok, I understand that you have too much testosterone to let a Millennium Girl have her say *grin*

Are guys with commitment problems passé?

There was a time when men had bigger salaries (back in the 70's), bigger bank balances (back in the 80's), bigger six packs (definitely only in the 90's) and more hair (I don't remember those days. Rogain anyone?).

Back then, I could probably understand the need for an alpha-male to be commitment phobic. You had more to lose by committing to a girl who had less money and hair :P

These days? What exactly does a Millennium Man have to bring to the table to be commitment phobic about these days? I wouldn't say my bank balance is bigger, but I wouldn't jump at a joint account with a guy either. Millennium Men have massive debts too :P Salarywise, the Squid Overlords pay me well enough. Six packs? I'm doing spin classes and running almost everyday. From my online dating experiences, I definitely have more hair ;)

Mr 2p's explanation of commitment problems never being passé is:
"Simple dissonance between societal expectations (till death do us part) and evolutionary drivers (perpetuate the genes)." Ergo, "female relativism will mean they'll never understand/accept it :)"

My answer to commitment being passé - well yeah, it is an extremely outdated relationship view. Not every girl wants marriage and babies. Not every girl believes there is a "till death do us part". If I had a chance to write my own vow, that wouldn't be it. People change. If couples don't change and grow together, then IMHO, the relationship is doomed regardless of encroaching death.

As for perpetuating genes, unless the sperm depositor speaks French, is a third generation skiier, at least 6 feet tall, with features of Adonis, then I'm not breeding *grin* I'm not getting fat for anything less ;)

My history with commitment phobic guys? _Well_...

The one question that made me click out of my last long-term relationship was, "Do you see a future with me?" It was about having a future together. When there was no answer, I asked myself, "WTF am I waiting around for?"

More recently, I was stupid enough to ask a guy, "Are we exclusive?" It wasn't my idea. "Exclusivity" was just the first question asked by my friends. I didn't know the answer, so I asked. The guy ran away pretty fast :P

To be honest, what I really wanted to know from that guy was, "Are you fcking around with other women?" That's what "exclusivity" meant to me. Never got a straight answer to that one either.

Realise that Commitment isn't a prison sentence when it's with the Right One. Realise that a Millenium Girl standing on her own two feet needs a Millennium Man as an equal in life rather than a mound of money, muscle and hair.

So tell me...

2009-04-10T04:41:00.000+01:00

Me: "... what's heroin like?"

"It's like being wrapped in a really warm, comfortable blanket. It covers you and you feel safe. Nothing's going to hurt you."

Me: "But..." *I stared at my companion in disbelief* "I didn't think people got out of it once they've taken it."

"You either like it or you don't. I'm lucky because I didn't like it. Once the blanket comes off, you make a choice. You either throw off the blanket or you take it again to stay under. I didn't like it."

I ask a lot of questions. I'm lucky enough that people always answer. So I thought I'd share, because if I want to know, maybe you do too.

Personally, I don't think heroin is a gamble with life anyone should take. Don't believe me? Watch Trainspotting (Bestest of the Worstest Toilet Scenes ever!) or Requiem for a Dream.

Away from keyboard

2009-04-09T00:30:00.005+01:00

It's difficult telling people I'm unemployed atm. It's not because I'm ashamed of it, far from it - I'm revelling in this quality me-time :) If anything, I almost feel guilty admitting to people that I haven't made any attempts to look for a new job yet.

I'm hesitant to tell people because their responses are soo negative and depressing. Yes, I understand their concern. There is a recession on atm, and it's not a good time to be out of a job, even if it's one I dislike. On the other hand, people tend to forget I'm not saddled with a mortgage or babies :P My biggest concern is to meet rent each month.

Only _two_ people I've spoken to about my situation have been truly supportive.
Daliborus said to me, "you only live once ... may as well do whatever you want ... (as long as you can afford it)".
Lizzie said to me, "You're doing the right thing for you".
Those words are priceless to me in the sea of negativity I've faced.

So, I took stock of what was in my bank account, and the fun times actually began awhile ago :)
:: I partied with B, Niffies and Armin @ Trance Energy.
:: I went on a spontaneous photography roadtrip to Reykjavik.
:: I snored next to Diskies at the Budapest Spring Festival *grin*
:: I just got back from a week of boozing with B, AdF and PdF in Chamonix.
:: I'm off to Cinque Terre with the girls this Easter weekend.
:: I'm cycling through Havana at the end of April.
:: I'm in the process of organising a learn-to-surf and yoga break in Algarve in May.
:: I'm ending the holidaying with a weekend in Ibiza for the Space Opening.

I guess the credit-crunching question is, "Would I have done things differently if the economy was better?"

To be honest, if the economy was better, I probably would've left my job at The Corporation and started this path about a month sooner. I'm so unsure about a lot in my life, but the one thing I can honestly say I'm passionate about - is travelling. I look back and since I was 22, I've always had a new destination to explore every year.

What happens after May? I don't know. However, the best lesson I've learnt in life about facing the unknown was when I was in the wilds of Borneo with Stuey.

Things always work out one way or another. Always.

My advice to those who say to me, "I want to quit my job BUT..." or, "I wish I could do what you're doing BUT..." is, well frankly, what are you waiting for? Don't be stupid about it, but let's start making plans for what you want. My regret this time round is that I'm admittedly bad at organising when it comes to my own life, and wasted a couple of weeks because poor planning :)

How do you know? (deel twee)

2009-04-06T21:47:00.004+01:00

A much easier take is, how do you know when it's not right?

I have recently experienced being "The one before The One" *grin* You know, the girl who's the one before The One that the guy marries. How did I find out? On fb :)

I can honestly say, I'm happy for him. I knew what we had was just all fun and games. I knew we had nothing in common. I knew there was no future in it.

I've met His One. I've seen them together, and I can't begrudge what they have together. Something about them as a couple just makes complete sense. I'm happy for him because I know he's found what he was looking for :) I'd love to send him a congratulatory email, but his fiancee probably wouldn't like it :P

Then there's The Wrong Guy, who keeps in touch with me. For what reason, I have no idea. Well, actually, I do have _some_ idea. It's a good thing he lives in a different city. This is what I mean, it's getting much easier to know when you've met The Wrong One than The Right One.

The problem is, I think you'll never know if that guy is The Wrong One or The Right One if you never give it a chance. But... how many times do I have to put my <3 on the line?

How do you know? (deel een)

2009-04-06T21:25:00.004+01:00

I keep asking the same question, "How do you know?"

I keep getting the same answer, "From the moment I met her/him, I just knew."

Nobody I know has words for that moment :) I wish I knew.

So I was asked, "What's gone wrong for you?"
My answer, "They always start out nice, but they always end up as twats."

J: "What sort of twats?"
Me: "Arrogant twats. Selfish twats."
J: "Have you learnt from your mistakes?"
Me: "I've learnt to identify and cut my losses sooner." *grin*

What gives me hope is that I know what J's been through. He's much older, wiser in life experiences and much more battle-scarred. He's found true love :) The moment he clamped eyes on her, he knew.

No matter how old you get, or how much you convince yourself you're ok with being alone, you'll always look for love. It doesn't mean all is breeziness. It just means that when times are hard, you have that *someone* on the same wavelength who will stick by you. When times are good, those moments with that particular person are spectacular.

The other question I get asked is, "What do you look for in a guy?"
My answer is, "Wtf does everyone look for?!?"
It's the obvious innit? Someone who's kind, loving, makes me laugh and of course, good in bed (right, Le Baguette? *grin*)

My biggest thing - Open-mindedness. A willingness to accept and share rather than change. A willingness to try. A willingness to explore.

I guess, when you know, you know.