Clubbing And Then Some

Hanging out at the Malaysian Association booth.
I say 'hanging out' because camwhoring was about the most productive thing we did there.



Night out in Northbridge.
[L-R] Me, Paeavi, Yasmin, Caryn, Gretch.
And that's Greg in the back.



Michelle, Christina, Me.
That mix in my hand went straight to my head!
No more drinks for me after that!
My self-control amazes even myself.



Yasmin and I.



Paeavi and I in the cab.
She wanted to strangle me because my eyes were closed in all the pictures on her camera.
I swear it's the timing of the flash before the picture is actually taken!



[L-R Guys] Asfar, Raj, Michael, Sebastian.
[L-R Girls] Yasmin, me, Paeavi, Nona.



Caryn, Yasmin, me!



Raj, Paeavi, Yasmin, me, Caryn.
Crappy club, good company!



Do Re Mi, reunited!



Old picture from Christine's birthday dinner.



Three of us clubbing at Metro City last weekend.



Me, Melissa, Liane.
Metro City, home of good Malibu mixes!



Yiing, Wei Ping, Liane, me, Rachel.



An old photo, in front of New Port in Freo.
A policeman took this photo.

Going Out In Style

I have recently come close to actually dying of boredom (I still don't have a TV yet), so it has forced me to face my humanity. Obviously, it was only logical that my next step was to come up with a realistic plan for my funeral.

It works to my advantage if everyone is clear about the role they play and understand that I am not afraid to be the ghost that crawls on the ceiling of your bathroom because you forgot to weep openly on cue at my 'departure ceremony'.

Because I have lived my life as a model citizen upholding the dignity of the human spirit, I'm assuming I will justly be rewarded with a peaceful death, perhaps in my sleep, or gradually poisoned with arsenic by my cats.

My funeral will take place by a beach with powdery, white sand. It should be either at the break of dawn (haha, sucks to be you because you have to wake up early to come) or at dusk; a commitment to avoid the sun, even in death.

I will wear a white hand-made silk dress, with a wreath of small white flowers in my hair and holding a few stalks of fresh white lilies. I haven't really decided if I want to wear pearl-white satin flats or if I want to go barefoot, to achieve that ethereal look. I will be lying in a glass coffin that is crystal-studded along the edges, on a satin pillow and silk sheets of a pale pink.

The coffin will be placed on a wooden raft with four vertical columns at each corner and an upper panel (picture a four-poster bed). There will be sheer white curtains hung at the upper panel of my raft billowing in the breeze (and Xing said, "Let there be breeze!").

It will be a small gathering of only my most loyal, die-hard friends and fans (maybe a limit of 300 people, for crowd control purposes). My people will walk across the beach in a single file, and in an organized and orderly manner, with their heads hung low, dabbing at their eyes with white silk handkerchiefs. Everyone will be dressed in bleak, black clothes, to mirror their depression.

You can identify Tasha as the one bravely holding back the flood of tears and Loga as the one running around handing out stuff to people (preferably Xing-approved funeral aids). Raj will be the one circling the parameters, informing anyone who would listen that I should have invested the money in a trust fund for him or at least bought some life insurance, instead of spending it on a lavish funeral.

Lizzie West's 'Prayer' will be playing softly in the background (until I find an even more kick-ass song to replace it). The more expressive and emotional mourners (read: hired actors) will say a few words about how amazing I have been, probably even squeezing in a mention of how I will have changed the world with my invention of The Fat Vacuum and self-cleaning dishes (which I will send to my current flatmates by crates).

Then, each guest will have to light a floating, scented candle shaped like a flower and float them off in the sea while saying a prayer for me. They will also get rose petals to scatter along the shore.

Six male contestants from Mr Universe will have to carry the raft with the glass coffin (like pallbearers but hot) to the sea, wearing simple, crisp white shirts that are unbuttoned to show off their tans and six-pack abs.

The guests will hear a loud whistle and out of nowhere, four eagles will swiftly fly towards my raft with the precision of military aircrafts. But wait! What's that in their claws? It can't be. IT'S JUST NOT POSSIBLE! Oh, but it is! Hamsters! Each eagle will hold a hamster gently in its claws.

As the eagles swoop down to the raft, the hamsters will hold the curtains and lift them, unveiling the full dazzle of my glass coffin. Each hamster will then light a match and set off the brilliant display of fireworks in the sky (bearing in mind it will either be sunrise or sunset). No animal will be harmed in the production of this funeral. They will undergo training months before my death and be supplied with treats to encourage positive behaviour; it is important to note that the eagles do not get hamsters as treats.

My raft will float and float across the seas, eventually ending up in some icy terrain. My body will be lodged firmly between large chunks of ice, perfectly preserved until the next century, when my body is found and brought to life again by technology.

Man... who needs fiction when fact is this awesome?

I TOLD You I Went Sailing!

Here is the proof; in your face! Credits to Caryn and Yasmin for the photos.

Yasmin and I making a fashion statement out of the life-jackets.



[L-R] Raj, Caryn, Yasmin, me and Michael.



That's Dinesh on the left, who ditched us after we went for a practice round with
Nicolas (the flatmate I want to suffocate with frozen vegetables).



[L-R] Me, Yasmin and Caryn.
I still have the tan-lines from that day, damn it!



[L-R] Me, Yasmin, post-haircut Sean, and Caryn.

Ode To My Childhood Tormentor

In primary school, there was a boy who made my life miserable. He teased me. He pulled chairs from right under me when I was about to sit. He put chalk dust in my hair. He slipped ice cubes down my back. He pulled my trainer-bra straps (but years later, denied knowledge of such actions AND had the nerve to question why I was wearing a bra in the first place).

He took my Harry Potter books to read without permission. He messed up my books. Hid my stationery. Scattered my poetry pages around on the floor. There was nothing he didn't do. He even wrote me 3-page letters of insulting poetry. Now THAT has got to set some new record for bully talent.

That's not even the worst of it. I had a book in which I had written my stories and poems. Stealing it to read and insult was not good enough. He decided to squash a lizard to death in between the pages of my special book. Imagine my reaction when I opened my book and a dead lizard (with internal juices, mind you) was there smack in the middle.

I was angry was furious went berserk. I marched up to the teacher to tell him. Cikgu Naiem, I remember. And I believe I muttered "Dan saya sangat benci Ben Shane."

Years later, against all odds, we became friends (and I've forgiven him about 59%). And now that he's no longer a negative number on a scale of 1 to 10, I even enjoy his poetry:

p.s., ...nevermind

Here's a letter sealed and sent,
From whenever where he went,
Sown in ink for eyes to reap,
On brittle page all hers to keep.

Here's the dreams ambitions broke,
Words he kept and never spoke,
Scribbled in an unruly hand,
Courage found in a blue pen.

Here's his body in a bag,
In exchange one last look back,
Her quiet curls her un-blue eyes,
He’ll bury here before he flies.

Here's the pictures in his head,
Memories she might have made,
Whispering what-ifs he has sold,
Creases where the pages fold.

Here's the half-way written book,
Whose end was lost when he awoke.






Passing Gas

She haunts me like a fart
I clench and hold in
While company is at hand
But alone once they depart
I let it out to my relief
To wallow in my stink.





Click here to check out more of his poetry.

A Very Simple, Somewhat Balanced Meal

Due to popular request (i.e. from Tasha alone), here's another easy, fuss-free recipe for you guys to try:

Mustard, Honey & Herbs Beef



You will need:

Raw beef fillet, cubed
- Depends on how much meat you want; mine was a slice of beef sandwich steak. It's better to get a leaner cut, because I hate fatty meat. Also bear in mind that the beef should be in small cubes because it cooks faster.

Masterfoods Mustard, Honey & Herb marinade
- Work with what you have. Even Teriyaki marinade will work just fine.

Butter

Olive oil or cooking oil

Half an onion, diced

Before cooking, marinade the beef cubes in the sauce first, overnight if possible.

Start by heating a pan and spreading one tablespoon of olive oil or cooking oil on the surface of the pan. Then, throw in the diced onion.

Once the onion starts to brown, turn down the heat to the minimum and put in the beef cubes. Add another two tablespoons of the marinade sauce mixed with two tablespoons of water. Occasionally stir the beef to make sure it doesn't stick to the pan.

Melt about a teaspoon of butter in the pan with the beef cubes and mix well. After about 5 minutes, try a small piece of beef to make sure it's properly cooked. It should be tender and not too dry, but the middle should not be cold.

If you have mixed herbs, add a pinch, but this is not essential. Mix well again and serve.





Bak Choy with Oyster Sauce



You will need:

One bunch of Chinese cabbage a.k.a. Bak Choy
- Just peel the individual stems off, throw out the middle and wash thoroughly.

Oyster sauce

Olive oil or cooking oil

Two cloves of garlic, diced

Firstly, boil a pot of water. Throw in the Bak Choy stems for 3 minutes then drain out the water.

Then, heat a pan and put in two tablespoons of olive oil or cooking oil. Then throw in the diced garlic.

When the garlic is fragrant, add the Bak Choy stems to the pan. Drizzle about two tablespoons of oyster sauce mixed with two tablespoons of water over the stems. Mix well.



Both these dishes can be served with rice to make a meal for one hearty eater or two small eaters.

Shopping - Again!

Last night was quite interesting. We joined Raj and his friends for a drinking game. Then Michael came to join us. After the game was over, Raj started telling us some horror stories. Yasmin, Caryn and I were all so traumatized that we made Raj and Michael stay with us at Caryn's flat.

I sent Greg a text message to let him know I won't be back for the night because I'm too scared to walk back. Then Rogan and Greg came to take me back. Just when I was feeling all "Awww, so sweet", they forced me to watch 'Whisper' at 4 or 5AM. I had to wake up at 7.30AM for sailing this morning while the two pigs happily get to sleep in.

Speaking of the Catamaran trip, it was loads of fun. We were sailing on a lake next to the city (I think it's Swan Lake). The weather was sunny and windy, perfect for sailing. Nicholas, my flatmate, has been sailing since he was 7 years old so he was basically showing us how to do it. Then we had a lunch of hot dogs and came back. I was shocked to discover the crazy tan lines on my back. ARGH!

I'll try to get my hands on the photos and post them up soon. Here are some older photos:

White nails with purple tips. That's my TIME magazine I'm holding.



The candle holder with the lit coconut-scented candle inside.



Hand Heaven cuticle balm at about $3 and Modelista Flash Nails at about $6, from Target. The cuticle balm is quite lovely but I've found something else that trumps it.The Modelista nail varnish is SO difficult to remove. Don't like it.



A bar of vanilla soap for only about $1.50, after discount. I haven't used it yet though.


A pair of shorts I bought to sleep in for only $2!

I Still Won't Call It Home

I've been decorating my room, hoping that it'd feel more like home. I haven't succeeded thus far because there's still no piping-hot Nasi Lemak waiting to be devoured in my room, nor any mamak stalls within the same continent.

The day I got my printer, I was excited and started printing out colouring pages for kids. Yes, life around here is simply THAT exciting.

My Russ unicorn (tentatively named 'Horsie', short for 'Horseradish Pink Punk Princess'). It flew here in a backpack :) Thanks to Wai Meng and Jayne for helping me bring it over.

I printed a pop art piece on heels and a photo of a pink Cadillac to test my colour ink on A4 and gloss paper. Credits to Tik Tsin for the photo of the Cadillac.

Another cute pop art piece on cartoon animals. I love this. Simple but super adorable!



Some other stuff I coloured. I was bored that day and decided to prove to everyone that I passed pre-school. I am an expert 'colourer'; hear me RAWR!

Of course, all these serve to make me Greg and Rogan's prime target for their bullying needs. Rogan laughs at Horsie at least twice a week (and I haven't even told him the name yet). And you should hear how he talks about my elephant colouring page, calling it the 'Pro-Activ elephant'.

But they did clean the kitchen, living room and hallway today. They are angels like that. So I guess I'll keep them alive until Greg puts another moth down my shirt. THEN, I will go batshit à la Texas Chainsaw Massacre.