April 2009

I like to hold a cup of hot tea in my hands in my cold office and blow air onto the surface of the tea.

Watch the steam rise and condense into minute water droplets onto the cooler surface of my glasses.

How this fogs up the lenses.

And then I notice how much clearer everything becomes when the fog clears.

Suddenly it dawns upon me that it applies the same to life. 🙂 Sometimes that little fog, that little mist, ain’t such a bad thing afterall.


Zac Efron is 17 again, and just like one of the girls cooed in the movie, “If that boy were an apple, he’d be a Delicious!”

I say, if that boy were an apple, there would not even be any core left after I was done with him.

Who knows pretty boys could have this much sex appeal?

Boys, boys, boys, we like boys in cars
Boys, boys, boys, buy us drinks in bars
Boys, boys, boys with hairspray and denim
And boys, boys, boys, we love them, we love them
– “Boys, boys, boys”, Lady Gaga

Still thinking…

Woah, I’ve been such a mountain turtle.

There I was, innocently checking out the fastest MRT route from my workplace at Science Park II, which is most inconveniently tucked at the armpit of Singapore, to Woodlands, when I uncovered the truth of a lifetime which instantly made my day. Wait, make that a week. To cut the story short, my E71 fell sick over the long Good Friday weekend (too much fun and booze) and I took it to the clinic at Causeway Point yesterday. To my complete surprise, I received a call this morning saying that my baby is ready for pick-up. Actually, that already made my day. I was sulking yesterday thinking that I had to survive the entire week without my trusty phone. I know, I’m such a spoilt city dweller, completely incapable of days without my mobile phone. Anyway the nice service staff promised a waiting period of three to five days. I made him promise “asap”. He said “of course” with a hearty laugh. Yet, as of any wiser customers, I knew that I should anticipate longer. Hence “surprise” is a real understatement this very moment, considering that I had previously waited two damn weeks for my Samsung (the guy also said three to five days). Thankfully my Samsung was fixed though since currently it acts as the back-up. I got fed up of messaging with it because my E71 has a QWERTY keyboard and now I’m totally crippled without it. I cannot press “4” three times for an “i” anymore.

Oh where was I?

Yes, there I was, peering nonchalently at the online SMRT train network map when I discovered with utter shock that thanks to the AMAZING Circle Line, the journey to work every morning in the future will truely be a breeze!

Current situation:
Ang Mo Kio –> Bishan –> Braddell –> Toa Payoh –> Novena –> *yawn* –> Newton –> Orchard –> Somerset –> Dhoby Ghaut –> Clarke Quay –> *are we there yet, Mummy* –> Chinatown –> Outram Park –> Harbourfront *phew collapse to the floor and die*

I almost fell asleep just reciting the station names.

Future scenerio:
Ang Mo Kio –> Bishan –> Marymount –> *zhoop!* –> Harbourfront

Woah! Whoever designed the Circle Line is a genius!


I had to stop because there was this gnawing itch at the back of my head and I started to grow super suspicious of the sudden good fortune that fell from the sky with no signs nor warning. Google, I did, and damn, the dotted lines were a hundred more stops to Harbourfront!

What the fuck. I just know that life won’t go so easily on me.

Laugh all you may. I take back my line that whoever designed the Circle Line is a genius. And I’m going to be depressed for the rest of the week since it no longer made my week. AND I’m going to sue SMRT for putting that deceitful map on their website. Ok, I was joking about the sueing part because I have no money. Why else do you think that I’m taking the train like everyone else?


I was at Timbre on a Saturday night with Diz, enjoying the excellent seats in the house, the beer, the sinful finger food, the crowd, the marvellous live band, and talking about work, other friends, life in general, and of course, men.

Or rather, the lack of men.

Or rather, the abundance of men and the lack of that very one who could steal our hearts.

Me: Out of these four men on the stage, which one would you pick?
(ignoring the fact that none might want either of us)
Diz: The one in yellow
Me: Yup, me too
(happily yabado yabado for a good few minutes why we preferred this fellow over the others)
Diz: The poor drummer is easily ignored.
Me: Oh ya, there’s the drummer too! That’s FIVE guys!

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