reasons why it sometimes sucks to be this tall:

1. all the tall guys are taken (usu by midgets.. why?why??)
2. jeans ride up to ankle height or worse when you sit down (note to self: must invest in zara jeans)
3. see the clean, dust-free ceiling along the aisle of the upper decks of buses? that's me.
4. you feel like Dim the lumbering giant when you're out with your petite, heck, tiny girlfriends.
5. contrary to popular belief, leg length is not proportional to speed of movement.
6. it is a universally-known fact that cute guys are short.
7. you cannot indulge in your love of 3" heels; if you do, you will be glared at every towering step of the way.
8. sometimes it seems like height is the only thing you do have.
9. you've lost count of the number of times you've hit your head standing up in a bus; your forehead getting off a minibus; gotten hit by swinging handles in trains and buses; been almost blinded by inconsiderate umbrellas.
10. you are invariably condemned to the back of group photos (not tt i mind, actually)

just so you know being tall isn't all fine and dandy

celebrated elaine's bday some time ago (yeah sorry didn't hv time to post the pix earlier). as so eloquently put by the chef, happy twentyoneth birthday girl!

the happy birthday girl.. ok she don't look too happy here..

must be cos of this. scum of the earth, literally. the poor carnivore had to gulp half of it down. think enough fiber in there to last the next 21 years =P

presenting elaine's present: assorted mixed nuts. good for health, and all natural. no preservatives added!

hazelnut: small, dark and spreads well with bread

cashew: pale flesh, subtle yet distinct

almond: commonly found in cakes and other pastries

pecan: elongated, and split down the middle

brazil nut: exotic, prominent and loves to dance

group photo, clockwise from top left: michele, veen, marcus, elaine, choon peng, priscilla

what's worse than having to do 5 reports?

5 reports due in a week
plus 1 assignment (if i were a virus, what would i be?)
plus tutorials
plus bloody exams,

all yearning to run you down like a 10mil-horsepower solid steel bullet train.

a tribute to the residents of blk 145 potong pasir:

dearest brave comrades, congratulations on your courage and perseverence in the face of the numerous obstacles constantly encountered in this precinct we call home. sweat has been dripped, fists withheld and eardrums tested; life is sweet despite the fact that:

- when you return after a long day of work/ school, the sweet smell of home means that (a) the rubbish truck has exactly timed its routine to your arrival, or (b) some bladder-challenged bastard has unloaded his cargo in the lift again.
- at the bus stop affectionately nicknamed "the bird-shit bus stop", you walk/run as fast as you can to avoid getting hit by weapons of mass destruction
- prior to the long awaited opening of NEL, they threatened not to open the potong pasir station
- when they finally relented, they took away all the public buses instead
- only taxi drivers don't reply with "huh? potong pasir? near pasir panjang issit?"
- you need to mention either chiam see tong or "opposition" before friends can go "oohhh! potong pasir!"
- car alarms blare for so long you wish someone would steal the damn thing already, or at least bash the system in
- you've had to endure the construction of an entire st andrew's village for so long, you feel uneasy when there isn't a reassuring pounding in the background
- now that the school is finally functioning, the school brass band is up and running too.
- and so is the hindu temple's music committee
- and the lion dance troupe from the cc
- and the occasional public karaoke session
- if you live in the top storey of the flats, the damn slanted ceilings are a pain or two.. hundred
- the hot, dry season only ends when the (already rare) pasar malam pops by; then the monsoon sets in
- said monsoon only ends when dejected pasar malam drags its feet away and vows never to come to potong pasir ever again.

(sometimes i'm so glad i stay in boon lay prison)

in a perfect world, everyone would be happy.
there'd be no wars
no suffering
no political screwups, no civil dissent
no broken families
no broken people

elvis would be alive
michael hutchence settled down
fast food a healthy alternative
rainbows every morning

there'd be only wise decisions;
no what ifs to confound:
what if i'd chose this
or that instead
what if we'd gone down a different path
what if you'd said this
and if i'd done that
what if.

but now we're where we are
doing what we're doing
hoping for the best
living as we are

in a perfect world, everything would be fine
but it isn't, so it's not.

have you ever experienced a sudden wave of unexplainable despair, like suddenly the sky doesn't quite seem so blue anymore, or that its blueness is only to mock you? out of nowhere, the climate changes, your head feels physically heavier and everything seems to be a farce, nothing is right or worthwhile. like someone came up to you from behind and stabbed you with a syringe full of anti-prozac.

i know females have the excuse known as pms, but this is so bad it's ridiculous. i want a permanent cure; chocolate and baileys can only last so long.


btw i've deleted the link to mr mafioso's pic, just in case.. congrats to the ones who managed to catch his photo. and just to set things straight (pun intended), he's not a gay murderer. i think.

got a report left to do, but i have to blog abt last night's dinner first hehe.. went to a jap restaurant for teppanyaki for mom's bday cos no one could remember the last time we went to one.. well apparently all the good stuff have a foolproof way to earn cash: make sure no one's selling it for miles around, and the only way you can get to have it is by going to some bloody exclusive place and paying an exorbitant amount for it. the food, needless to say, is amazing. the only problem is that you'll never have that particular item ever again cos there isn't a cheap alternative.

but anyway.
venue: keyaki japanese restaurant, pan-pacific hotel (!)
chef: andy (single!!)
generous sponsor: dad (apparently aware of the prices charged..)
excuse for going there: mom (& pestering sis) said they "liked japanese food"

i never imagined why people would use such an adjective, but yesterday i think i got a glimpse why some people describe certain food as "orgasmic". oh my. the beef. ooh~ imagine medium rare sirloin steak, seared just so that the 2 ends of each 3/4" thick strip is juicy and tender, while the centre precious mouthful is just short of raw, with a slight smoked taste and feel of the meat. i'm not a meat person, so you can imagine that if i'm raving about this kinda stuff, it's really really good.

the chawanmushi there is also fab, unbelievably smooth. nothing short of amazing, these two. however, greatness does come at a price. i won't reveal the (substantial) damage done that night, but if anyone wants details you can msg me personally.

someone had better find more affordable teppanyaki restaurants around.

i have a problem with face recognition. no it's not just a nice way of saying i'm getting alzheimers' (although yeah that may hv somthing to do with it..). what i'm talking abt here is the "hey you look like so-and-so! wow!" type. you know, someone you know looks like jean danker/albert einstein/chiam see tong etc etc, someone who reminds you of a famous personality. well my prob is that apparently my comparisons are bloody off the mark. but they look fine to me.. must be the same reason why i can't tell haircuts apart, why mens' fashion appears to be an oxymoron and why the only way i'd be able to tell if you have dark eye rings would be if someone punched you in the correct location(s). hard. they all look the same!! example:

darn the pic's a bit small, even after clicking to enlarge.. but anyway, does the guy in front look like a younger, less haggard chinese version of johnny depp to you? yeah i know it's johnny depp i'm referring to, but.. no? not at all? not even edward scissorhands? btw yeah that is me in the corner, squashed into the photo by the precision adjustments of the camera guy. alright fine, i'll cease all future comments save one last one. remember mr spanish mafioso? his skulking mug, right there. plea though: do NOT, on any account, be it sabo on your or my part, attempt to approach him electronically or physically. i will bear no responsibility should any, ahem, situations befall you.