Drunken rant

*Cringe*

So I wrote the last post after coming home from a night out. Could you tell? :P I think I'm improving on my stats though.
:: Number of drunken emails drafted up - 2
:: Number of drunken emails discarded - 2
:: Number of drunken texts sent out - 0
:: Number of drunken Photo Booth pix taken - 0
:: Number of drunken online purchases - 0
:: Number of drunken blog posts - 1

*Phew* It really could've been worse :P

Breakfast @ Tiffany's

As long as I can remember, Breakfast at Tiffany's is always shown on Valentine's Day. Hence I assumed it had to be the greatest romance story of the century. So this evening, 2 hours before heading out to Old Street for a prance, I watched it.

Great title. Sh*t movie :P

Truth be told, Audrey Hepburn is beautiful in it, as a gold-digger who keeps losing out on the gold. George Peppard is also beautiful, as a male gigolo who falls in love with her. I guess the moral of the story is, love conquers all when a gold-digger chooses a poor gigolo over money?!?

Fck that shit. Fck Valentine. Fck Hollywood for making me think I've been missing out on something all these years. Fck Neil Perry for serving me JOOK with KIMCHII at a AUD$300 Valentine's Day dinner a few years ago.

Tiffany's - "The quietness and the proud look of it, nothing bad could happen to me there... Didn't I tell you this was a lovely place?"

It's not that I don't believe in romance. Or meeting the right person. It's when I'm being force-fed shit that love is about Hollywood dreams coming true that I get pissed off.

You want true love? Watch Baz Lurhmann's Romeo+Juliet.

Surviving Valentine's Day. Would you pay 100 squids for a bunch of roses? Tell me how this has anything to do with love.

Creative personals

You'd never guess what paper I was reading this in. I couldn't help but burst out laughing when I read them :)
=========
Lesbian, 30, wants man's cock to play with. Also balls.

Have books destroyed your life too? Shy shallow anglophile, 34, seeks young woman to recreate timeless epic romance. Ability to ride camels, bribe border guards and write letters by whale-oil lamp a must.

This advert formally ends the period of my life I like to jokingly refer to as "the years I spent a lot of money on drugs" and begins the phase I hope will be known in the very near future as "the weekend I had sex with that guy".

My door is always open. Mostly because I live in a barn. Farm-dwelling survivalist and rural hedge enthusiast.

I refuse to let my sadomasochistic tendencies and love of koi define who I am, but if our relationship is to progress to any meaningful level then we will be spending an awful lot of time in the Japanese ornamental section of Worchester Homebase.

I installed a tachometer on this advert to measure swoons.

Sane, solvent, slim M seeks broody F.

If forced to commit, I'd say I feared geese more than ducks. Man, 47. Fears geese more than ducks.

Yesterday I was a disgusting spectacle in end-stage alcoholism with a gambling problem and not a hope in the world. Today I am the author of this magnificent life-altering statement of yearning and desire. You are a woman to 55 with plenty of cash and very little self-respect. My name is Bernard. Never call me Bernie.

Dear LRB, I have no money. Please run my advert for free. I want a woman who is 38. Let her know I'm really clever and good-looking. Thanks.
=========

I was in the London Review Bookshop cafe reading their own published paper, London Review of Books. Next time I need a personal ad written for me, I'm getting a bookworm to do it :P

The fun doesn't stop there!

Did you hear the one about the panda, rabbit and kitty with pink ears? :)

They had a pub lunch and then went wild in a park:

(How to make a snow angel - Bunny B style!)

Macro

I also went a little crazy with macro-mode yesterday :P

Happee Snow Day!!

Some of my fave shots from Regents Park yesterday:

Diskies and I made a snow-err-hermaphrodite :P

Thursdee nite in Rondon

"W"hateva "M"inga!

Mmm... With legs and an ass to kill for:

It's all about technique

"Push with your bush"... I lean in towards the ice.

*THUK*
90% of the time, my right ice-axe lands a solid hook into the ice. I test my weight on it, yup, all goot.
*TWAAK* *thuk* *thuk*
90% of the time, my retarded left swing completely misses the spot I was focused on :P I scrape around and look for a hole to hook into instead.

"Stick your butt out like a monkey"... I grip my ice-axes and stretch out my arms. Yup, butt's out there like a monkey's. I look down at my feet, find a spot, and remember to keep my heels down.

*CHUK*
Right foot in :)
*CHUK* *CHUK*
Left foot in :)

I push up with my legs. I hear water, I look to the side. Through the opaque ice, I see water rushing by underneath. There are massive dripping icicles around me.

This is AWESOME!

I fell in love a lot during this trip.

I fell in love with ice when I saw the frozen waterfalls at Lillaz in Italy.

I fell in love with ice-axes when I heard the satisfying *THUK* as it slammed into the ice.

I fell in love with crampons when I realized it was holding me up on my toes to the side of an ice wall. My heels rested on air.

I fell in love with Chamonix when, as I was up high and strapped to a tree by a very slim rope, a bright yellow heli flew right by me barely a hundred metres away. I anticipated the sight everytime I heard the *whoopp* *whoopp* noises of the rotor blades as it took off down in the valley.

I didn't do very difficult climbs. It was just that feeling of making it to the top in such amazing surroundings which made it memorable. The hardest part? Walking uphill in all that dang snow to get to the walls :P

As I'm huffing and puffing away, my guide for my first climb, Isa, who's 5 months pregnant btw, barely breaks a sweat. She's also the one carrying all the extra rope and gear! She's amazing :)

Revelation

Somewhere in the Sahara, my mind flits from thought-to-thought in the early morning sun. My gaze falls downwards and suddenly I burst out laughing *grin*

"OMG! It's true why they call it CAMELTOE!"... Call me childish :)

Here are some manky camel toes for you:

If your's starts looking like this however,
I suggest you visit a doctor ASAP :P

***WOAH***

Thanks Missy W and M-San for such a great girly trip :) So many priceless moments together *grin* From our common tummy issue, to the doorless bathroom in our riad, to the topless hamman together, to the look on Missy W's face when her camel started relieving itself, to the sound of Missy W sputtering sand from M-San's blanket toss *lol*

Loved it, love you gals *MUAH*

Plumber's crack

Wait... You mean it's not because I had to do a whole heap of bad crack before plumbing?!?

I dang well wedgied myself real good for this shot.
Sexy polka dot undies supplied by Tezenis on Oxford Circus :P

(Do you notice anything funny about this kitchen?)

The dang kitchen tap has been leaking for over a year. Slowly but steadily, it'd gotten pretty bad. To the stage where Diskies had started leaving jugs underneath the tap so we could use the vast amounts of water collected for washing up. We had the stereotypical fatass creepy plumber look at our tap once. He didn't do anything about it. So rather than deal with our annoying landlord and fatass creepy plumber again, I tried some DIY :)

This involved me lugging home about 5kg worth of borrowed tools in my white handbag. I squeaked out in aghast when my colleague proudly unrolled his kit for me.

"What do you mean I need all that to fix a leaky tap?!?"

2 wrenches, and... that's about all I can identify out of the 5 :P There was one mother-of-a-tool that could've knocked a baby elephant into a coma. After consulting another colleague, I refused to take that one home with me.

Step 1: Turn off water. I looked like a proper knob with a headlamp strapped on, and spent about 15 mins with my head stuck under the sink looking puzzledly around. Don't get me started on the bl00dy stoptap. Or stopcock. It doesn't exist under my sink. What I have instead are two screws inconveniently placed closely behind some pipes *wrestle* *wrestle* Done!

Step 2: Unscrew tap heads. Use wrench to remove metal-thingy-majig. Voila!

Step 3: Pop down to hardware store and get new washers. The nice guy at the shop gave me two for FREE! Bonus! As I return to my apartment, I greet the fatass creepy plumber who happens to be visiting the door guy and sitting in the foyer *ugh*

Step 4: Replace washers, replace metal-bitty-bits. Turn water back on.

Shiiiiiit, this whole job cost me nothing and plumbers get paid how much?!?

The desert effect

When I think about it, I've seen quite a few deserts in my time. There were the dunes I sandboarded on in Huacachina. I remember looking over the top of the dunes and feeling nothing but desolation. It took me *forever* to walk up the dune. I was too cheap to pay for the "chairlift" - a plastic schoolchair pulley system powered by a tractor. At the top, I slipped my feet through some laughable rope bindings on a waxed plank. I looped my camera strap around my shoelace and attached it to the plank. 10mins later, I was at the bottom of the dune :) All that effort resulted in loads of sand in body crevices sand was never meant to exist in! *lol*

There was the Burning Man playa in Black Rock City, Nevada. Flat as far as the eye could see. Never a still moment. In fact, I had issues trying to pee on the playa at night. Simply because no matter how far I wandered, the desert was lit up by glow-in-the-dark people, bicycles and vehicles!

Then there's the Sahara. The burnt tangerine dunes, the cloud scudded azure sky. My camel plodding tracks in the sand. It's quiet, and I literally felt the ambiance being soaked up by my soul. The sun starts to set real fast, and the sky changes into the most amazing hues of yellow, orange, red and purple.

I've always thought sunrises and sunsets were the same all over the world. None of them particularly memorable. From the top of a volcano in Maui, to the summit of Mt Kinabalu, to the top of a ruin in Tekal, to the background choons of Cafe Mambo... I take it all back. Sunset at the Sahara from the top of a camel hump won my heart over. Colours have never been soo violently vivid for me.

I don't really think my pix do it justice, but here goes. It's a mix of sunset and sunrise at the Sahara:

Next on my desert list - Skeleton Coast in Namibia looks awesome :)

Something about the new year

All I want to do is ketchup with friends and gossip :)

You're probably wondering if I had a repeat performance of last year :P Sorry to disappoint, but this time I actually left the house. To be honest, I left the comfort of my bed mostly because I had international guests to entertain! Anyways, thanks to Milli-San for all the help with costume prep!

Without further ado, here's me dressed as errr, Snow White for Pushca's Grimm Fairytale NYE party :P (Yeah, I don't think anything I could've worn would've convinced anyone an oriental Snow White exists...)

Happy New Year everyone!

Risk taking

Eating week-old curry laksa 3 hours before a 4-5 hour flight to Morocco.

Hrm.

If I didn't eat it, it would've been wasted :P

It's happened...

One of the questions I've always asked people is, "What if your family or mates don't like your partner, would you want to know?" The typical answer is a shrug followed by, "Yeah, I guess... but if I'm with someone I love, it wouldn't matter".

What's that quote from Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night"?

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."

I think it does matter. I think if my family and friends don't like the person I'm with, there's *got* to be something wrong with that person. I think of who my closest family and friends are. I think about what good people they are. How open-minded most of them are. How caring we are towards each other. How much we respect each other. For my family and friends not to like someone, there's a dang well good reason for it. That person's most likely a dick :P

99% of the time, I get along well enough with a close one's partner. I've just hit that 1% snag. It's been unbearable. I know I don't have to spend time with this person's partner, but it can't be helped. I know I don't have to speak to this person's partner, but it can't be avoided. To be honest, it's bringing out the worst in me :( My tongue seems to have a mind of its own. Everytime his name is brought up in random conversation (and it happens A LOT), quick as a flash I retort with a biting remark. Then I feel like shit for being hurtful to someone close to me. At the same time, I feel like I've been goaded into it. Just stop saying his name and I'll be fine! :P

The guy's a twat :P A genuine twat. I can honestly say this, because I've spent enough time talking to him and being around him.

Should I say something outright? Should I keep quiet? Some things, I don't think people are ready to hear. People just don't want to be told because you know what? Put yourself in their shoes - would you rather face the future alone, or be with someone you love regardless of how twatty that person is?

Judgment tells me to just be quiet.

Here's what I want from you - If I ask you what your impression of my date is (and I will), always tell me the truth. I know I might be upset, I know I might not listen at the time, but I still want to know. I won't hate you for it. If I wanted the, "As long as you're happy" line, I'd ask my Mum :P

"Ooh, my squiddly spooch!"

I woke up early on Sunday with some sharp pains in my abdomen. "Food poisoning?" I wonder. Nope, B and Diskies were still in good health and we ate the same food the night before. "Well, can't be bloody appendicitis since I don't have an appendix anymore". I rolled over and went back to sleep. "No Step & Tone class for me today". I woke up soon after with the same stabbing stomach cramps.

Ruh roh. This can't be good. Maybe it's that time of the month when I'm reminded how lovely it is to be a woman :P Erm, nope, not that either.

When I woke up with the same cramps this morning, I started to get *real* worried. A quick search on the internets tells me about Acute Pancreatitis.

"Acute pancreatitis causes abdominal pain. It usually settles in a few days but sometimes it becomes severe and very serious. Gallstones or drinking a lot of alcohol are the usual causes."

So I drew up a Drinking Diary for the past couple of weeks:
Saturday 13/12/2008: Half bottle umeshu, 2 vodkas
Friday 12/12/2008: Half bottle white wine, 1 glass dessert wine
Tuesday 09/12/2008: Couple glasses white wine, 3 bloody marys
Monday 08/12/2008: 4 bloody marys
Sunday 07/12/2008: 1 bloody mary
Saturday 06/12/2008: Numerous vodkas, numerous shots. Enough for me to do this.
Friday 05/12/2008: 1 pre-dinner bloody mary, half bottle of red, sake, 2 caprioskas, 2 vodkas
Thursday 04/12/2008: 3 beers
Tuesday 02/12/2008: 1 pre-dinner cocktail, 1 (or 2?) dinner bloody mary, 1 post-dinner cocktail
Sunday 30/11/2008: 1 caipirinha, couple glasses sangria
Saturday 29/11/2008: Some dinner vino, some Pimms, some vodkas
Friday 28/11/2008: 1 beer, numerous cocktails.

Bugger.

Those random stabbing pains I'm feeling are right - I _am_ drinking too much :( I'm sure it doesn't sound like much to some, especially since it's the holiday season. But... I think back to the days when I use to go drinking, and those were my grad days and I only got pissed on Fridays!

Right now, I feel like I have a swollen squiddly spooch inside of me. Every so often, it tries to do a painful inverted somersault. If I could stroke it, I would. Time to give it a rest...

The Big Picture

Normally, I'm a fan of the World Press Photo exhibitions. This year, I was kinda disappointed. Something about it, wasn't as sensational or moving as previous years. My new fix for journalism photography is The Big Picture hosted by boston.com. It's got *amazing* pictures of events around the world. Here's a sample:

"Muslim pilgrims perform the "Tawaf" ritual around the Kaaba at Mecca's Grand Mosque before leaving the holy Saudi city at the end of the annual Hajj pilgrimage on December 10, 2008. (KHALED DESOUKI/AFP/Getty Images)"

"A woman walks through floodwaters on Piazza San Marco during floods on December 1, 2008 in Venezia. (ANDREA PATTARO/AFP PHOTO/AFP/Getty Images)"


"People standing on the roadside shower flower petals as the body of Hemant Karkare, the chief of Mumbai's Anti-Terrorist Squad is taken for cremation in Mumbai, India, Saturday, Nov. 29, 2008. (AP Photo/Saurabh Das)"


"An Indian commando runs into Taj Hotel prior to a gun battle in Mumbai November 28, 2008. (REUTERS/Arko Datta)"

PS: The coolest thing about the Hajj to Mecca, is that there's an algorithm for crowd control implemented to prevent the notorious stampedes and deaths which happen :)

Talking about r'ships

Miss K: "Aren't they all troublesome?"
Me: "*I'm* not troublesome!"
Miss K: "Not you! All the guys!"

*lol*

Well, yeah, now that you've mentioned it, they all are ;) They better be worth it.

What's in a name?

The funny thing about my name is that it constantly gets a mysterious "L" placed in it. Especially in emails. In fact, I was just called "Shileen". That's a new one, since most of the time I get "Shirleen". Where _is_ that "L" coming from? It's nowhere near the "R" or "E" keys. It's on the other side of the keyboard! My first name isn't long or complicated enough already, so let's throw in another random letter?

The thing I can't figure out though, is that if someone can get my email address right, how on earth did they get my name wrong in the first line of the email?!?

It's a pet annoyance of mine, since on business emails my eyeballs automatically flick up to check what I've typed out against the email address. Definitely don't want to be calling someone senior a "Doody" when they're a "Dody"... I kinda expect people to do the same, especially if they're wanting answers from me :P

The true meaning of Globalisation

It's been exactly a year (Thanksgiving 2007!) since I'd seen Becky:

It's been... almost 3 years (Jan 2006!) since I'd seen Alwinee.

All of us live in different cities. From Rondon, to Moo York, to Shangers. It made me realise how lucky I am to have the type of friends who love to travel the globe :) Distance doesn't mean anything. Time doesn't mean anything. Wherever we are in the world, we'll find each other, and we'll pick up where we left off. It was always like that over the years when T came back to Sydnery for a visit :) It was like that everytime I came back to Sydnery for a visit, and all the crew took me under their wing.

Which explains the "business lunch" I had with Becky. Oysters, scallops, photography exhibitions, topped off with a 3-restaurant-feast *grin*

Erm, also the "business lunch" I had with Alwinee. 4 hours of Gaucho steak and a bottle of wine; 2 hours of shopping and cocktails; 2 hours at a Tennis Club club ;)