Fidgety

On the tube I glanced up. I meet the eyes of a cuteish guy with a cuteish smile. I quickly look away, embarrassed that I'd been rubbing my eye mercilessly for the past few mins. Did I mention that I've had a couple of glasses of Rioja? I would've blushed if I wasn't already red *grin*

So here I am blogging on my iPhone instead *lol* On my way to eat offal with Ms K if you must know. I've been looking forward to it all day! In the meantime I think I now understand why strangers advertise love notes to other strangers in the Metro. A stolen glance in less than a split second. Was he smiling at a joke shared with his friends at the instant I looked up? Was he smiling because he knew I was in a *happy* state? I'll never know, but I can live with ignorance :)

That's venison offal and chicory on my plate (best eaten together)
Chitterlings and chips on Ms K's plate :)


To be honest, I was expecting tripe, but got kidney and liver instead!!
Thanks Ms K for the wunderbar company as usual :)

ZZZZONDA!

Let me preface this entry with, no I still don't have a license. I'll explain that at the end of the post.

I have discovered a new love - supercars! Mmm-mmm... This morning I walked out of the tube and found myself standing infront of an unsupervised Zonda. Ooooh... I took a couple of quick snaps and emailed them off to a couple of Top Gear geeks with the question, "Guess what car is parked opposite my office today?"

Not long after, I received an impressive reply: "pagani zonda (looks like f model - f stands for fangio (juan emanuel) ... mr pagani's personal friend). when you order one of those they take measurements of your behind to mould the seats ... and they get pope's shoemaker to sort you out with driving loafers ...."

*lol* I knew Daliborus wouldn't let me down ;)

A couple of months ago I wouldn't have been able to tell you WTF is a Zonda. However, I've been catching up on Top Gear lately, courtesy of the Beeb's iPlayer. I _love_ this show. Anyways, this supercar is super awesome. The Stig clocked a lap time of 1.18.4 mins, making it the third fastest car on the list. Wah :D

Supercars always come with at least one big red button *grin*

So there I was, spending my lunch hour gazing at the Zonda when someone suddenly starts revving its engine. The Zonda makes a low, *absolutely lustful* ruuuuumble. It's the Barry White of engines. It makes me want to make looove to The Stig in the backseat... Wait, the Zonda doesn't have a backseat. That's where the mighty engine sits :P Check out the FAT tyres!!

Just how much is it to rent the Zonda? Only about £2700 per DAY ;)

So, why all the talk about cars when I don't have a licence? Have you ever wondered _why_ I don't have a licence? _Why_ I don't drive after all these years? Before I turned 18, I sat for my P's (provisional licence). It was one of the most horrible experiences of my life. I found out later that I had pretty much failed in the first 10 mins of the test (I overtook on the left of a car that had pulled out infront of me from a driveway). The test instructor had taken pity on me and let me drive on. Which was a bad mistake. Because later on, I was at a T-junction with heavy traffic. I misjudged the gap in oncoming traffic, and as I pulled out onto the main road, the test instructor yelled out, "STOOOOP!".

I, errr, kept my foot on the accelerator instead.

I made it onto the main road, and full cred to the driver behind me not ramming the car in the ass. I got HONKED at instead. *Humiliation*! I started crying. I might even have screamed and taken my hands off the steering wheel for a little bit. That's when the test instructor furiously started lecturing me and directed me back to the KMart carpark in Blacktown.

Are you really that surprised? Look at my demographic - oriental AND female! I'm staying off the roads for YOUR safety :)

Paella anyone?

I love it when the household hits the fishmarket :)

Vinton Cerf

This guy. Co-creator of ARPANET. Was speaking at my workplace last month. Alas, I wasn't employed there at the time, and apparently only execs were invited. Wasted. All I got was a webcast of the event. If I was there, I would've hugged him and asked him to sign my USB key. How many people do you know of who could say light-heartedly:

"There's a problem with the internet, and it's my fault."

+60 HP if any of you nerds out there can tell me what that problem is :)

Snapshots

Here I sit waiting outdoors at a pub with a half pint of Stella. Thinking, what would I change about Rondon? I wish it was a bit cleaner. At the same time, I kinda wonder if Rondon would lose its uniqueness if anything about it was changed.

I take it back, there is one thing I would change about Rondon. Youth violence. Rondon had its 16th violent teen death today. It's quite sad, childhood should be the best time of your life.

Anyways, here are a few Rondon snapshots from the recent past...

Guess who was unemployed!


Tré cool: Charging my iPhone on a train :)


Sitting in a park on a rare sunny day, chatting to Chocy on stolen wi-fi:


Lobster noodles. Here at 7pm:


Lobster noodles. Gone at 7:15pm (Congrats T&D!):


When I plug my headphones in, Smiley actually looks like he's dancing to Armin :)

Alan Yau

Of Hakkasan, Yauatcha and Wagamama fame has a new noodle bar... and a crappy signature :P Notice though, that all dishes on the menu are £3.50! Which means T, B and I gorged ourselves silly on 8 dishes and 4 beers for just under 40 squids *grin* Where is this place?

I AIN'T TELLING *grin*

Mr&Mrs TOAL

Congratulations!!!

Eternal flame - a perfect symbolism of your love :)

I wish I could've been there.

I almost burst into tears

Tonight I had my first one-on-one dinner with a workmate. He found out what I wanted for dinner and then ordered for me. Without any prompting. I swear, my eyes just welled up. I could've sobbed deliriously...

Nothing to do with the pre-dinner half bottle of white.

You know, it just made me happy to know that there are well-mannered guys out there :D Say what you will about feminism and men being from Mars and women being from Venus; personally, I still love the feeling of being looked after.

And now, a badger badger badger conspiracy picture:

I've been dying to post that one up for awhile :)

The nerd bus

Its funny, last week, I was literally on a bus filled with nerds. For some reason, all the tech companies in the UK are based out in Woop Woop. The only way to get there is by a courtesy shuttle bus. The nerd bus stops at Oracle Park and Microsoft Campus. Hence, I was on a bus filled with nerds. The bus even had wi-fi *lol* I was definitely checking my RSS feeds on the bus :) I tell ya though, after three days at an Oracle workshop, I was dying to cry out, "can someone on this freaking bus please explain to me wtf an Oracle Learning Environment is?"

I guess there was a time when I was in university that I revered Microsoft. It's odd that I wouldn't take a job with them now though. Having spent a couple of hours the other night formatting a friend's 70 page document, I can honestly say I've lost faith in Microsoft products. Don't even get me started on how shithouse Vista is, comparative to Leopard. Wonder if that's how I'll feel about Google one day...

Muffin top

Ruh roh... I pulled on a freshly laundered pair of jeans today and noticed... a slight muffin top *wince* I use to see girls with muffin tops, and think, "Why don't you just get one size up?!?" Errr, okay, now I understand it's demoralising to jump a size up. I had to do some squats to stretch the denim out! *grin* Gawd dang it. Why is it so much effort to look decent? Last year, a mate use to tell me, "I need to lose 15kgs before turning 30!" I laughed. My mate still looked good :) Now I understand the pressures of looking good at 30 :( I wouldn't have cared last year. This year I care. So... tomorrow, if Sus calls me, I'm going running. Something I really sux0r at :( *sigh*

Have I mentioned how much salad I'm eating these days??

Dad's love story

Last night I remembered it was Wesak Day and I dropped my parents' an email to wish them a happy wedding anniversary. This morning I noticed a reply from my Dad, but didn't have time to read it before I left for work. So I downloaded it onto my iPhone and read it on the train. I got a little weepy and discreetly tried to wipe my tears away as I read my Dad's words. I blame my dang hormones, it's that time of the month :P Here's what my Dad wrote in his reply:

* Kung Kung == Grandpa
* Por Por == Grandma
* park tor == going on dates

"Wesak day changes every year, like the Chinese New Year. We were officially married (exchanged vows, rings and registered) at the Selangor Marriage registry on 26th SEPT 1970. I think nobody was at the registry except your Kung Kung and one of Mum’s friends. They acted as witnesses. We did not have our formal ceremonial/customary wedding until 9th MAY 1971 (Wesak day) i.e. wedding gowns, tea ceremony, dinner (we had lunch instead because dinners in most restaurants/hotels were booked out), etc. I think the date was chosen by your Por Por.

At the registry, names of bride and groom have to be displayed in a public notice board for several weeks for any public comments/objections before the marriage could be registered. The marriage certificate meant money, because as army officers we get maid’s allowance, housing allowance, ration allowance, water and electricity allowance, phone allowance, transport allowance, family holiday transport allowance (remember riding 1st class train to Penang?), uniform allowance, etc. Added up together, a married officer would get more than double the salary of a single officer!

And you know what? I could not recognize the registration clerk at the registry, but he recognized me. He said that we had met before playing mahjong at a friend’s place. So he fast tracked (could only be approved by the State chief minister) our registration without having to pay a fee.

After registration, Mum moved out of the nurses’ hostel and I moved out of the army officers’ mess. We stayed in a rented bungalow house paid for by the army, near her hospital. Prior, I’ve visited the nurses’ hostel so very often that the receptionist when she saw me coming in the corridor would call Mum’s room ES109 (I think this was the number) to say that I was waiting. Gosh! You should see Mum’s favourite hair style. Combed fluffy down, end curled and rolled outwards at neck’s length.

By the way, Mum and I met and attended a university ball/dance (annual?? Not sure) on a blind date in 1968. (Believe it or not I was quite good dancer). I think she came with her friend who was the witness at the marriage registry. So we “park tor” almost every day after that. To do that I had a quickie army driving license to prove that I had done an army driving test (which I never did) to get a civilian driving license immediately, driving Kung Kung’s new car to date your Mum. Later, we shared and bought our first car, a second hand Morris through uncle David who was then a manager in a car company (Wearne’s Brothers??).

To think of it, age is catching up, and I think Mum and I should sit down some days and write our childhood stories, so that you guys can compare the type of life our generation had with yours and probably Sage’s too. There’s so much of differences in the lifestyle, particularly the boys. Anyway hope I’m not boring you with the above story but at least now you know how your Mum and Dad met and became man and wife for the last 38 years!

Love
Dad"

Spark

I understand now, just how important *spark* can be.

As a singleton in Rondon, I'll admit, any new males I meet, I'll think, "Potential?" However, sometimes, I just _know_ it's not right. The *spark* is missing. Completely and utterly not there. So when a sparkless-guy started messaging me recently, and indicated he was interested in something more than just friendship, I mulled over how to reply. What's a nice way of saying, "I don't like you in that way"? E&E were with me at the time, and I asked them for advice. E&E gave me what I thought was the best line ever:

"I'm sorry if I've mislead you, but I'm not interested"

No room for misunderstandings there, and hey, I'll even assume some responsibility if I had accidentally entranced him with my charming personality :P Only, that line has come back to haunt me ever since! I keep bumping into the sparkless-guy!! He's also telling my friends I was really harsh with that line :P It really doesn't bother me, cause I'm not going to retract it, but I do feel a smidgen of guilt. Nobody likes to hurt other people's feelings.

The more I spoke to this sparkless-guy though, the more I realised how important having the *spark* with someone is. I really miss it. It's been awhile since I've met a guy I really enjoyed having a conversation with. A conversation that ends up being about everything and nothing. A conversation that goes on forever because we don't want to stop talking to each other. A conversation that ends with a smile on both our faces. You know the feeling when that happens :)

Alas, like I said, it's been awhile. The last hopeful contender, sadly turned out to be a twat. I've become a big fan of the word, "twat" :)

The other thing I found out about the sparkless-guy, is that he's BROKE. Fair enough, he's pursuing his dream and trying to make it work. However, he's not going to win me over by saying, "I can't afford to take you out on a date". It got me thinking, at my age, and my point in life, I don't want to be dating anyone who's not financially self-sufficient. They don't have to be rich, they just have to be able to live comfortably and support themselves. I've been there. I use to date someone who was broke all the time (even though he earned more than me :P). I paid for a lot of things, because I wanted to eat out somewhere nice, go dancing, go drinking, etc. Back then, I didn't care. I had a disposable income and I didn't mind spending it on both of us having fun together.

Right now though, I think if I met a guy who's my age and broke, I wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole. I think, especially living in Rondon, I appreciate the value of my squids a lot more. I want someone to be able to pay their own way when we go out.

It seems though, that *spark* and financial self-sufficiency is a lot to ask for these days :(

New law

Recently, I've noticed that the number of "friends" I have in facebook has crept up to the 100 mark. Do I _really_ have that many friends? Are these people _really_ my friends? Would these people be at my funeral? Morbid, but hey, it's a test of sorts.

In fact, I'm downright puzzled as to why some of these people are even bothering to add me as their "friend". They don't even bother to contact me in any way once I've confirmed them. No writing on my wall, no personal messages. So what's the point? So tonight, I'm freaking doing a cull. As mean as it sounds, I think it's stupid to pretend to be friends with someone you're obviously not friends with, just for the sake of being "polite".

I'm capping my number of friends to 100. As much as I'd like to think I'm Ms Popularity, I don't believe that I have that many true friends IRL. If you haven't spoken to me lately, if I don't have the occasional ketchup session with you, if you don't contact me in some way within 10 days of adding me to facebook, YOU'RE GONE. Don't get me wrong, my profile's as public as can be. Feel free to stalk me and find out what I've been up to. However, it really doesn't bother me if that "pretend friend" disappears into oblivion again. I never knew about their life pre-facebook, I don't need to know about it post-facebook.

Oh, here's an example. Not that I hold a grudge or anything, however, here's someone that added me today:

Who is he? Approximately 10 years ago (*yikes*), I thought this guy was hot. Eurasian (who said I don't date yellow? :P)! I asked him to be my date (as a friend) to the university ball that year. He accepted, and he made my night an absolute HELL. He could've said no, I would've rather had gone without a date than go through a miserable night of him looking downright unhappy to be there. You know what the first thing he said to me was? "I didn't actually want to come". Second thing? "I was going to buy a new jacket, but my friend told me it was a bad idea". Oh yeah. Great start. I couldn't wait till he left. From that moment on, I had nothing to do with him.

Now he wants to be friends with me on facebook?!? How did he even find me??

One good thing came out of it. I learnt never to fall for a guy just cause of the way he looks :P Let the culling begin!

Spring time!!!

In the Alps :) Just how pretty can it be?

Who me???

Nein, couldn't possibly be...

AH: "You can give me sexier than that!"

After a litre of Austrian beer, did you expect much out of me? I burst into a fit of giggles as I seriously tried to clamber ontop of the Kompressor. I almost rolled off it in laughter :P

More like a Drunken Aussee, I'm afraid :(

F*cked up

Next Tuesday, I'll be starting work on a new project back at my previous workplace. Yay!

I am now required to provide character references for the past five years of my career. Five years. Wtf? What I don't get is why I'm required to provide any character references this time round since I've already worked there. What I don't get is why I can't provide referees from my last project. People that I have worked with who are from that same company. You know who can vouch for me? The company's Global Head of L&D in Human Resources. HUMAN RESOURCES. However, that apparently doesn't count for anything.

Bl00dy Engrish and their obsession with paperwork.

You know what's worse? This week, I decided to clear out my old documents. So written references I had from IBM, GT and SIFT -> rip rip rip -> They're currently lying in pieces in my trashcan. My thinking was, "Man, surely I won't need these Australian ones anymore. They're pretty outdated."

How wrong I was. I'm almost tempted to sticky tape them back together again and hand them in to the manager, just to make a freaking point. Five years ago! Different country! Ask your own people what I'm like! Get over it!

Poop. Fck it, I have time, let's bring out the sticky tape.

Edited 11:18AM:
I just remembered, I hate jigsaw puzzles :( Rummaging through my trash, I'm grateful I haven't had a snotty nose the past few days.

Cynicism

So tonight I watched "Happy-Go-Lucky" at The Electric. It's the story of, you guessed it, the happiest-go-luckiest girl in Rondon. Errr, not only did I fall asleep for most of it (was it the Moscow Mule? Or just the pointlessness of it all?), but I also ended up hoping that the protagonist would DIE a painful death. My thought was, the happiest-go-luckiest girl in Rondon would fall in love with Mr Perfect, then get stabbed to death by the psycho driving instructor she meets. Stabble stabble stabble!

She doesn't of course. To my disappointment, she survives all the way to the end of the movie.

I feel ripped off. Where's the bitter-sweet ending? Where's the dark twist? As the movie ends, the happiest-go-luckiest girl in Rondon is rowing around in a lake on the phone to Mr Perfect and her best mate. What sort of ending is that? :P

On the upshot, The Electric is the most comfiest cinema I've ever been to in Rondon :) With footstools, cushy seats, cocktails and chocolate raisins. Definitely good for a snooze.

People that happy don't really exist, do they? :P My rating: 2 out of 5 stars.

The Big Day

From this (Hip & Happening Ed):

To this (King of Polyester)!

And this (Cool & Stylish Eleri):

To this (Queen of Sequin Glam)!

Here's me in my DIY Oxam tie outfit *grin* Bit blurry, but I converted an H&M singlet top into a tie halter neck, and accessorised with a tie belt! No, I wasn't under-dressing, I was sticking to the theme of Oxfam Glam. All party-goers must be dressed in charity shop clothing.

Congratulations to Mr & Mrs Stephens!!

Tis about bl00dy time :) Thank you both so much for inviting me along to celebrate the occasion. My first Engrish wedding! I had a wunderbar weekend in Devon :) Gawd, I'll never forget that gooey clotted cream...

Pronunciation

Drives me nuts, this country. When I was little, I was taught to sound out each letter. Put them altogether and you have a word. Only when you're in England, the motherland of English, it doesn't really work that way.

Me: "What do you mean you don't pronounce the 'w'? Why put it there if you don't want me to say it? It's South-Wark, not South-Ark!"
E&E: "No, it's Suth-Erk."
Me: "South-Erk?"
E&E: "sUth-Erk."
Me: "We're not coming here again, cause I don't know how to say it. And it's Green-Wich, not Gren-ich! It's like you don't say san-ich, it's sand-wich."
E&E: "That's san-wedge."
Me: "Aaargh!"

I should've told E&E to "Shu' eei" (shut it) *grin*

Good Cop

Remember the twats with the blue clipboards? Good Cop actually called me today. I was a bit confused at first when he announced his name. Hrm? He sounds familiar. Is he one of the recruiters who's suppose to get back in touch with me about a role? I did a quick check on my emails. Nope... Then it clicked.

Aaaah, it's the twat from Michael Page! Yup, I'm going to name and shame em. I would have left things well alone if that twat hadn't called me up today.

He was patronising as hell - "You got an interview in the Finance sector? Congratulations!"

Errr, ok. Yay for me. He fired off endless questions, "How are you? What have you been up to? Have you been in any interviews? Have you found anything? When do you start? What rate did you get?" He was obviously fishing for information.

I bristled and snapped back, "Look, I'm not registered with your company, why did you call me?" Good Cop was a bit surprised, and replied with, "It's all part of the service we provide, rah rah rah".

"Service?" Wtf? Does he not remember the meeting ending because I refused to fill out that stupid form? Exactly what service did he provide besides wasting my time? If he hadn't hung up on me, I would've launched into a rant about it *grin*

Happy anniversary

Yesterday was the day I arrived in Rondon 2 years ago. Has it really been 2 years already? So much has happened. Some good, some bad, some lessons learnt the hard way. How did I celebrate this momentous occasion? By leaving Rondon and flying to Amsterdam *lol* Yesterday was also Armin Only day!!! Yaaaay!!! :D

I'd bought tix to this event ages ago, and after lots of umm'ing and ahh'ing, finally decided to book my flights and go. So off I jetted to the Netherlands to spend 10 hours with my fave DJ. I left Rondon at 6pm, and was at the venue in Utrecht by 9pm - and that's with a one hour time difference. Not bad for international clubbing.

However, Armin did that annoying hide-behind-the-screen thing AGAIN! For 3 hours!! It could've been anyone throwing on CDs for those 3 hours :P

I did love the night though :) Armin totally rocked it.

I've also figured out the trick to maintaining personal space at the front row - dance in stiletto heels. In an attempt to be a liiiiittle taller amongst the Dutch giants, I wore my boots. Anyone who came near me at the wrong time was likely to get a hole stomped into their foot by my spikey heels :P However, it also meant that by the 7th hour of dancing, my feet were killing and I had to exit the front row. That's when I realised, holy shit, it's not easy fighting my way from the front through 16,000 frenetically dancing people. It took me awhile. Good thing about the venue was that there were flat screens everywhere, and the sound system was great. Because I was upfront for most of the night, I didn't really get to see the full effects of the show until I watched it on the flatscreens. It was amazing, the crowd was just constantly heaving and the lights were awesome. I'm getting the DVD just to see if I'm in it *lol*

This time, I was also prepared for the stupid Dutch "no water bottles" scam. I had to smuggle in an empty water bottle :P Which meant I could refill my bottle from the toilet taps, as oppose to spending 3 euros for a cup of water each time I felt thirsty. Besides that, how is one suppose to dance on a crowded dancefloor with a cup?!? Bastards! Don't even get me started on their token system. I totally dig their locker system though. They had enough lockers for 16,000 people and for 5 euros, I could unburden my coat and massive handbag for the night.

I really can't wait till the next Armin Only :) More pix here. To my Sydnery party crew, I missed you!! Looks like you guys had a big night at SH's housewarming anyway ;)

Happy anniversary to me...

Amateurs

I had to deal with a well-known international recruitment agency today. When I first arrived in Rondon, this agency was the first I had contacted to help me with finding a job. So, for 2 years my resume has been in their databases, and only now they're requesting a meeting. Ok, I'll go along with it... I need the interview practice. It felt wrong from the moment I stepped through their doors. I left after 20 mins and felt like my time had been wasted on a couple of amateurs.

Before I left for the meeting with said agency, I checked the confirmation email, and realised the agent's asked for me to bring along my passport, 2 referee details and my original degree. Wtf? Is this guy kidding me? I ignore the request and head in, hoping to blag my way past it.

The office foyer is immense and meant to impress. Size really doesn't impress me anymore ;) What made me think, "Oh no," was the sight of blue clipboards neatly arrayed out in rows on the reception bench.

Receptionist: "Are you here to register?"
Me: "I'm not sure, I'm here for a meeting."
Receptionist: *Points to clipboards* "Take one of those."

I skim over the form: Personal Details, Referee Details, Financial Status, Criminal Record... I didn't bother filling it out while I waited for the person I was meeting.

I'm greeted by two... boys. I now understand the importance of first impressions and looking sharp. I can't believe I'm being tag-teamed for this meeting. Let's call one Good Cop, and the other Bad Cop. They escort me to a meeting room. Things don't start off well, Bad Cop launches into a spiel on a totally wrong topic. Good Cop apologises to me, tells me to forget anything Bad Cop has just said. Riiiiight...

We then spend the next 15 mins discussing the bl00dy form and why I refuse to fill it out.
Me: "I don't want my personal information such as my passport and my contacts stored on your databases. I only give it upon request by the employer."
Bad Cop: "What are you scared of?"
Me: "You using my contacts for purposes other than references."
Bad Cop: "But our company has a reputation to keep with our clients. We wouldn't go behind your back. In return for representing you, we require commitment from you."
Me: "If you have a job spec, show it to me. If an employer requires my referees, then I can give you that information within 10 mins."
Bad Cop: "What if we can't contact you? What if your mobile's not working? Or what if you don't have access to email?"

Me thinking: "What are you, a dick?"

Me: "I can email the details to you tomorrow, once I've checked with my referees that it's ok."
Bad Cop: "Haven't you had that discussion with them already?"
Me: "Yes, that discussion was under different circumstances. You're storing their information for no reason."
Bad Cop: "We need you to fill out everything on that form today."

You know what? To be honest, I fought more for this than I had to. I knew my referees wouldn't care. However, I was not going to be bullied into giving away private information to a couple of twats.

Me: "Look, you're not going to get the details for my referees today."
Bad Cop: "Then we can't register you."
Me: "I don't need to be registered with your company."

With that, the meeting ended. I have very little respect for recruitment agents. I've no respect for this agency at all. These two were twats. Instead of trying to sell me what was so great about doing business with their agency, they'd rather shove the form under my nose and make me fill it out. For what reason? They didn't call me in for a meeting regarding any particular roles. I didn't even realise until I got there that I was going for "registration".

Fck that shit.

Maybe I'm getting a little arrogant these days when it comes to j.o.b hunting. However, I don't believe filling in a form and handing over my degree is going to make me anymore qualified for a job. That's what my resume is for. I would've done it if there was a role they were going to put me forward for, but the twats had NOTHING.

Rick Astley

Ok, I'm not ashamed of liking Rick Astley. It brings back a lot of fond memories for me. My eldest brother use to be such a fan when we were kids. I grew up knowing all the lyrics and watching my brother copy Rick's side sway dance moves :) We use to go on family road trip holidays every year, and Rick Astley, WHAM! (we'd always start the drive with this one!), Kylie, a-ha, Frankie goes to Hollywood would always be blaring out of the car stereo. My poor parents, they endured it for the endless hours it took for us to get to Penang or Singapore :)

Rick Astley isn't just a one-hit wonder either. Other classics are:
* Whenever You Need Somebody ("... I'll bring my love to you...")
* Don't Say Goodbye ("... Don't make me cry girl, you're my girl!")
* She Wants to Dance with Me ("... Cause I'll hold her so tight next to me...")
* Ain't Too Proud To Beg ("... sweet darling! Please don't leave me, girl don't you go...")
* It Would Take A Strong Strong Man ("... My heart starts breaking...")

I'm glad there's a Rick Astley revival going on ;)

GIANT SQUID!!!

ZOMG! Today, I met my boss *grin*

Her name's Archie :)

When the lights switched on in the Darwin Centre's storage room, I gasped at the sight of Archie. She's totally awesome! Archie lays in a solid 9m tank filled with formalin. Her eye is as big as dinner plate! Her tentacles are covered with teethy suckers! So formidable. I wish Archie was still alive.

The Darwin Centre is part of the Natural History Museum. The building is currently under construction, and the only way to see Archie is to book a Darwin Explorer tour with the museum. It's a short 45min tour, but I really enjoyed every minute of it. The museum stores over 70 million specimens. Some of those on display are the original specimens discovered by Darwin himself! The very first specie of various animals to be discovered in history on display! I thought that was pretty amazing.

As more lights are switched on around the room, I noticed dozens and dozens of jars lining the walls. It's creepy, but fascinating. Snakes, giant fish, baby sharks, badgers, echidnas, turtles, foxes - you name it, it's there. Large metal tanks fill the middle of the room, storing anything too big for a jar!

If you've got some free time on your hands, give the Natural History Museum a call (0207 942 5011) and book the tour :) Not a lot of people get to see this sort of stuff in their lives. It's also free.

My mind's a mess

Sus recently introduced me to Bikram yoga. It's the hot, sweaty one. How hot? 40 degrees centigrade hot. How sweaty? So sweaty that I walk outside of the studio and feel like I'm freezing because I'm dripping wet and the weather's still cold!

Do I like it? I'm not quite sure. I don't love it, or hate it. It's something for me to do and it keeps me from going stir crazy while j.o.b hunting. For the time being it's something different from the gym.

What I'm hoping for is that it'll help me clear my mind. The odd thing about me these days is that there's an endless train of thoughts running through my head. Sometimes, I just want quiet. I don't want to think about turning 30 this year. I don't want to think about my career. I don't want to think about being single (My youth! Gone! Wasted on someone who didn't appreciate it :P). I don't want to think about family obligations. I don't want to think about what I'm going to do for the next few years ahead... There are a lot of things I don't want to stress thinking about.

So I'm hoping all the breathing, the posing, the stretching I do for 90 mins in Bikram yoga will teach me how to deal with things better. The instructor keeps telling us to smile. YOU try and smile while you're rocking on your tummy with your legs bent backwards and your sweaty hands slipping from your sweaty ankles. Your chest feels like it's bursting in the 40 degree heat. Not so easy to smile while holding a pose. However, it's all just a case of mind over matter, right?

Breathe, stretch, smile, chillax... Everything will be ok.

See you in class, Sus! :)

Last thing I need

My task for the day is to shop for some "naughty" hen's presents. Yes, I'm going away for a hens party this weekend, to Berlin. Everyone else being gainfully employed, the task of "naughty" shopping fell solemnly onto my shoulders.

Fine fine, I'm a big girl, I can handle this on my own. I walk into Amora, Rondon's premier concept s3x0r museum. I browse, I pick up some naughty candy nipple tassles and some *ahem* p3nis mints. That'll do for a laugh.

The cashier guy looks at me quizzically and I explain it's all for a hen's party. He's HORRIFIED! "You have to get her something more exciting than peppermint peckers!!!"

Oh dear.

Next thing I know, the cashier guy has whipped out the demo battery operated 2-player vibrator. Buzzzzz... "Feel how strong that vibe is!" I inwardly groan and put out my palm. Yup, pretty strong buzz :P Apparently, "You can turn each other on by touching each other with it all over the body".

Leaving me no time to bluster, he proceeds to touch ME all over the body with it! Across the neck, over the b00bies *gasp* So, I guess I'm a prude after all :P Cashier guy then talks me through a waterproof vibe (again, I had to test how strong the buzzz was) and a solid black ridged vibe. What was I thinking?

"25 squids for that?!? That's way above my budget!!!! For that price, the hen can use a real willy!!!"

Also:

"OMG, thank gawd he bypassed the ben wa balls"

Next up, "Here taste this". Cashier guy uncorks a bottle and dabs my hand with oil. Before I have time to think, "Where has that cork been?!?" I stick out my tongue and lick the oil. Mmmm, tasty vanilla. Then I realise, "Fck, I don't know where that cork has been".

However, that's not what this post is about. Cashier guy is funny looking. If I might say so myself, I'm more attractive than cashier guy. So the last thing I need right now, is funny-looking-less-attractive cashier guy giving me lessons in love, cause you know what that means?

There are funny-looking-less-attractive people out there getting more action than me :P

A glimpse

... of the side of Rondon that I always wanted to see. I ended up at a dress up party, without a dress! The theme's "In Disguise". Errrr, I guess I'm disguised as an oriental spy. As T so succinctly put it, "We're dressed up as oriental spies cause you can't tell us apart" *lol*

Somehow, I ended up with Mr Phillip. That's MR PhilliP. Without an "s". I accidentally pluralised Mr Phillip into Mr PhillipS and was promptly reprimanded. All I can say is, it's a bit distressing to see friends suddenly desert me when Mr PhilliP sat down next to me!!! Imagine a spotlight on a crew of roaches :P Mr PhilliP light heartedly joked about "cupids aiming arrows". Mr PhilliP also said, "If all my groupies were like you, I wouldn't have an issue" :P Yes, he's in a band. Long hair included.

Me: "You should mingle" :P

Kinkiness & memory loss

I never thought I'd ever get to experience getting whipped by one of my best mates. I was hot, steamy and sweaty in my bikini... *SLAP* *SLAP* *SLAP* B gets into action with a bunch of birch branches ;D

Oooh yeah, she whipped me real good.

Apparently it's good for exfoliating :P All part of the Russian banya experience. First the sauna, then the dousing in cold water, then back to the sauna, followed by some birch whipping, and then a quick roll in the SNOW. Option b) is the frozen lake behind the sauna. However, since the lake was green and frozen, I decided to stick with rolling in the snow. Did I mention it's meant to be Spring in Russia?!? Look how much snow there was in Pskov:

It finally happened - alcomahol induced memory loss. I use to scoff at people who claimed to have blackouts and no memory of the night before. How was that possible? It never happened to me... Until I spent a night in Pskov with nothing better to do than drink some fine Russian Standard vodka :P The guide exclaimed, "Who wants a Russian shot?!?"

Me! Me! Me!

Russian shots, are 100ml o_O After conferring with Oleg on my return, he confirms it, "This is a standard drink. 50ml for ladies and 200ml is a working class man drink".

Aiyah... I remember drinking. I remember getting back to my cabin. Blankety blank. I'm suddenly in bed. Sometime during the night I drag myself to the toilet and throw up. Me thinking, "Red? Why's it all red? Oooh, it's from the grapes I ate". I stumble back to bed.

I wake up the next morning and start getting dressed. Hang on, how did I get into my jammies last night? Where the hell are my jeans? How did they get onto the bathroom hook? I start packing my stuff up. Eh, there's Nurofen out on the floor.

My drunken auto-pilot is so good, I dug out my jammies, got changed, hung my jeans over the radiator to dry off the snow and, took some Nurofen to counter the forecasted hangover :) Even though I don't remember doing any of it, I still totally r0x0r!

Think I'll stop mouthing off to people with alcomahol induced memory loss from now on :P

Moscow

Traveling in Russia is a lot harder than I thought it would be. It has something to do with my crappy Cyrillic skillz :P

C is really S
Λ is really L
π is really P
H is really N
P is really R
...
You try figuring out which train to jump on based on Cyrillic station names! :)

What did I love most about Moscow? Hrm, St Basil's Cathedral. Standing infront of St Basil's made me realise, "OMG, I'm finally really in RUSSIA". It's the most iconic symbol of Russia to me. How many times have I seen it only in magazines, pictures and on TV? Here I am, standing in front of it IRL on a dreary, snowy, slushy day :)

Here's my escalator series of the posse mucking around at the Moscow metro stations.

Can you believe the Moscow metro is actually kickass when it comes to running efficiently? There's a train every couple of mins. Sydnery could really learn something from Moscow's rapid train system :P

Me or the pregnant Panda?

Awhile ago, I questioned SD, "If we were in a hostage situation, would you take a bullet for me?"

SD...
... hesitated!

*lol* He eventually chose to take the bullet for me. Nice to know :)

Next up, I asked, "What if it was a choice of saving me or the last Panda on earth, and the Panda was pregnant? Who would you shoot first?!?"

Without missing a beat, SD replied, "I'd save you! It's a fcking Panda!!"

I felt loved :)

Sydnery roundup

Yeah, I had a good time :) The fun part was spending time with family and friends. I really love the people back there. It was impossible for me to hide my exuberance everytime I caught up with someone :) Even the sight of AdF and PdF in the distance made me start skipping to meet them *grin* There were soo many good times, but the best I'd have to say, was Future Music with the crew :) I loves you guys ^_^

Other memorable moments, in no particular order:
* Trying out drum and bass with SM and JH
* SH taking me to watch American Gangster with the Opera House in the background
* Brekkies and hot drinks with AdF and PdF
* Lunching at Fratelli Fresh and then drinking for 7 hours with SM and BL :)
* BL's smoked ribs!!!!
* Gossiping with Jules over passionflower ice-cream (sorry for the pic Jules *grin*)
* KY serenading me out on his balcony (a heart melty moment)
* Truffle tuna sashimi with Daliborus
* Cocktails, lounging and babysitting with Lena
* Feasting and girly talking with Y*
* Porcini and truffle lasagne with DG
* Chilling out with U&W at their beautiful home

Snow

At the risk of sounding uncool, I'm finally ready to admit, "Snow is not my happy place". Maybe it's because I hate being cold. Maybe it's because my feet hurt unbearably after every go. Most likely it's because I sux0r so much at snowboarding *grin*

I tried to love it. Everyone else around me seems to get so excited about snowboarding. The first time I learnt to snowboard, I was in tears. I couldn't get on the dang J-bars at Thredbo. Eventually T felt sorry for me, and unlatched her board to walk up the mountain with me. My ass was hurting like hell, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't stay up for very long.

These days I'm better. There's a few hicks. Like, errr, I seem to have issues turning right sometimes *grin* I can turn left fine! I just get days when my body refuses to listen and no matter how hard I try, I just can't turn right. Very baffling. I think it's probably cause I'm scared shtless of facing down the mountain and potentially ending up riding down it on my pretty-pretty face.

I did have fun with M&L in Japan though :) The snow was sooo much better in Furano and Niseko, comparative to Meribel and Thredbo. I have never been surrounded by so much white stuff in my life. Lotsa stacks, no bruises!! Lots of thanks to M&L for all the encouragement. I'm forever grateful you guys came back to look for me when I fell off the hairpin turn. "GUUUUUYS... GUUUUUYS! I fell down the mountain!!! Waaaait!!!!" *lol*

Lesson learnt: If it's a choice of crashing into Shuai or a tree, screw Shuai and avoid the tree! *grin* "AAARGH TREEE! *OOOFFFPH*" Hopefully that's the last time I wrap myself around a tree...

Watch me jump! *lol*

The mountain view from the top was worth the fear of getting down ;)




Milli-san! Okonomiyaki!! :)

Am I evil?

23+ hours on a full plane. Stuck in a middle seat. Annoyingly loved-up couple sitting infront of me. Gah, it's amazing. I don't know these people, yet the sickening sight of them making out on their reclined seats just inches away from me - makes me hate them so much.

That's not what makes me evil though :P

I'm stuck next to a disabled man. One arm is a stump, the other is in a permanently bent position. He's got the window seat. Throughout the flight, I have to help him out. Butter his bread and break it up. Buckle and unbuckle his seatbelt. Feed him his tea. Pull his camera out of his front pocket and take photos for him. Put his headphones on for him. Adjust his channels. I was worried he was going to ask me to help him go to the toilet! I would've drawn the line there.

I'd do these things for someone I love, I'd do it for a friend. Doing these things for a random stranger who's a grown man?!? It's dang awkward. Not to mention fcking WEIRD. I felt so uncomfortable helping him. I felt guilty asking for a different seat before reboarding the plane in Singapore. I felt guilty for thinking, "fck, I can't believe I have to do this for the entire trip".

I tried putting myself in his shoes, and thinking how bad it must be to be so dependent on a stranger to do the simplest things in life. It must be a blow to his pride to have to ask for help all the time.

Yet, I still wished it wasn't me sitting next to him :(

Someone...

... has to explain it to me:

Butt s3x0r.

I spent some quality time with a Butt Specialist tonight. All I got was, "it's different". Gentlemen! That's not a good enough reason! There are holes, and there are _holes_.

Egad... I just read what I wrote. I spent some quality time chatting to a Butt Specialist tonight. I did not offer up my butt for experimentation purposes. There's no such thing as "taking one for the team" when it comes to my butt :P I might do it for the right amount of money, but I'm not doing it for blogging purposes, that's for sure.

Some holes take things in. Some holes push things out. Now _which_ do you think is the right hole?!? YOU! Butt Specialist! Pick again!

Is it really 4 degrees warmer? If it is, does it really make a difference?!? It's 4 degrees! Besides, isn't it spacier inside? Wouldn't it be more "hot dog in a hallway" syndrome? Explain to me how that's better.

Another thing, if you're willing to "pitch", it's only fair that you try "catching" as well. I'm not talking about a pinky either :P Everything's gotta be equal :P

I hope you're reading this, Butt Specialist :)