Rather unexpectedly, I seem to have snapped out of my incredibly sian mood, thanks to my friend's invitation to her friend's Bhangra party. I wasdisinclined to go owing to my low tolerance for Bhangra music as well as my not being in the mood to do anything at all but ended up having a bizarrely surreal and incredibly fun night learning how to dance to bhangra songs and more importantly, catching up with some old friends. Of course, said old friends also believe that my (harmless) flirting with a not-bad-looking younger Catholic guy also did me some good... and they wouldn't be wrong, because it was really nice talking to someone who not only listens, but contributes to the conversation as well.

And of course, my good mood was sustained today by showing a not-bad-looking South African around Singapore, and T. calling in the middle of the tour just to see how I was because he hadn't seen me last night.

Let's hope this continues throughout the work week.

I went to Jurong Bird Park today to show a first-time visitor to Singapore around (his idea, not mine). I hadn't been there since I was 12 and I wasn't sure what to expect. I had an incredibly enjoyable afternoon gawking at birds, constantly going "Omigod!" as we rounded a corner, and I took plenty of photos. The Birds of Prey show at 4 pm every day is one of the best shows to watch, and if you're planning to go there soon, go catch it!

These are a few of my favourite photos, just because of the memories they capture, even if they're not great photos.


(If you can't read it, right there at the bottom of the sign, it says that Kaku (the cockatoo) can "mimic a reverse car signal.")

Yes, I did stand in front of Kaku's cage making the reverse car signal sound in the hopes Kaku would do so too. No, Kaku did not oblige. Did I feel silly? Of course I did.


Target sighted and it's... me???As I found out seconds after taking the photo, the Brahminy Kite was indeed heading straight for me.


The world's largest bird of prey - the Andean Condor. I want one of those babies. Forget a sports car. This is the only way to travel.

And in a moment of complete brilliance, I had the following exchange with my friend at the World of Darkness.
Friend: I feel so sorry for the owls. They're in perpetual darkness from 9 am to 6 pm. They don't get any sun at all.
Me: Maybe they do. At night?
I slapped myself right after.

I seem to have drifted into a state of apathy recently. I don't seem to feel any emotion other than the occasional anger, frustration and anxiety. There have been moments in the last few days which I should have felt, well, more positively towards, but quite frankly, other than the few seconds of vague happiness, all I felt was numb.

Ordinarily, I would've blamed this on sheer exhaustion but I've been getting more sleep since Sunday and yet, I began feeling this way since Friday (meaning I'm halfway towards clinical depression. Whee.). Or perhaps, since we managed to get through what was expected to be the biggest challenge of the year unscathed (and also, one of the main reasons I stayed because otherwise, my company would've been in big trouble had I left - yes, a misguided sense of responsibility, I have), the burn-out has settled in good and proper. So much so that when a friend sent me an article entitled Your job: Signs you've stayed too long, instead of being alarmed when I realised that I've been exhibiting the extreme signs for quite some time now, all I felt was momentary amusement that she thought of me when she read it.

Even the knowledge that T. will be working just 5 minutes away from my office for the next few weeks hasn't done anything to improve the state I'm in. I'm not even looking forward to the karaoke session that I'll be going to later, or the fact that I'll be showing an allegedly handsome first-time visitor to Singapore around on Sunday. I am, however, looking forward to drinking copious amounts of alcohol at the karaoke lounge. As I found out, it still gets me pleasantly high in spite of my current mood - or lack thereof.

Should I be worried? Probably, yes. But I can't quite bring myself to care.

The combination of Michael Bay's recently released movie, The Island, and the recent reminder of one of the worst movies of all time (starring Ben Affleck) brought to mind this gem of a song from Team America:

Pearl Harbor
I miss you more than Michael Bay missed the mark
when he made Pearl Harbor.

I miss you more than that movie missed the point
and that's a lot girl. And now, now you've gone away
and all I'm trying to say is Pearl Harbor sucked
and I miss you.

I need you like Ben Affleck needs acting school.
He was terrible in that film.
I need you more than Cuba Gooding needed a bigger part.
He's way better than Ben Affleck and now,
all I'm trying to say is Pearl Harbor sucked and I miss you.

Why does Michael Bay get to keep on making movies.
I guess Pearl Harbor sucked just a little bit more than
I miss you.

And of course, that brought to mind my favourite bits of the show. There're so many but the ones that came up first, thanks to Wikiquote, are:

This, because it's so guai lan.
Gary Johnston: A flying limo? Now I've seen everything.
Spottswoode: Really? Have you ever seen a man eat his own head?
Gary Johnston: No.
Spottswoode: So you haven't seen everything.

This, because it's so melodramatic.
Gary Johnston: I was just a boy when the infidels came in their Blackhawk helicopters. The infidels fired at the oil fields and they lit up like the eyes of Allah. Burning oil rained down from the sky and cooked everything it touched. I could only hide myself and cry as my goats were consumed by the fiery black liquid death. In the midst of the chaos, I could swear that I heard my goats screaming for help. As quickly as they had come, the infidels were gone. It was on that day I put a jihad on them. And if you don't believe it, you'd better kill me now cause I'll put a jihad on you.

This, because it's just so stupid.
Spottswoode: Gary, this is a dangerous mission. If you happen to get found out and they capture you, you may want to take your own life. Here take this. (hands Gary a battered hammer)

In between managing to fall ill after a good night of clubbing (which is happening all too frequently now, unless you count the fact that I haven't been 100% healthy ever since the beginning of May) and hauling my sick self to work on Monday, I managed to fit in some shopping - the incredibly affordable and immensely satisfying kind, not the S$150+ splurge due to work stress sprees I'm rather prone to these days (most recently the one on Friday where I spent that much on a matching bra & panty set and an ethnic dress).

My flea market haul consisted of:

• Red lace-up peasant camisole (Topshop) - S$5
• Little black dress (Tattoo by Andy, a local designer brand) - S$2
• Long fushia dress (the label said Gigli which was worth the price, even if the dress wasn't as interesting as it is) - S$2
• CD: Robbie Williams - Swing When You're Winning - S$5

But the one item I would have paid what I paid for everything I bought that day is:

• Brand new mint green lingerie top (Old Navy) - S$5 (photo to be added later)

I've been dying for one of these ever since I saw them in the Victoria's Secret catalogues (which I never receive despite my persistently requesting them. I think my postman/neighbour steals them.). And now, in spite of the fact that it's in the same shade as a heck of a lot of tops I've been buying lately and am actually a little sick of by now, I'm happy.

As with every flea market purchase though, I ended up with two Guess tops which are a little too small for me. Dang. So much for my optimism in US sizes.

Exchange between fellow flea marketing friend and I:
Me: Does this shade of red go with my skin tone?
Friend: Well, the can of Coke you're holding doesn't clash, so it should be all right.

I went to my first ONE with Aldrin yesterday night. It was an amazing blend of dirty house, tribal house, electro and progressive. I got to Zouk at 1.30 am and he had already been spinning for three hours (and would eventually go on to spin for more than seven hours). During last night's session (Aldrin's homecoming ONE after his Ibizan tour), he dropped:

• Underworld - Cowgirl (which I've never heard in a club before and went absolutely mad once I heard the beginning)
• Depeche Mode - Just Can't Get Enough (sampled in another track)
• Deep Dish - Flashing For Nothing (Featuring Dire Straits) (mash-up of Flashdance and Money For Nothing)
• Daft Horse - Can't Say (Laid Back - White Horse vs. Daft Punk - Harder Faster Better Stronger)
• Deep Dish - Say Hello (a track which really appealed to my trance inclinations)
• Faithless - Insomnia (which I was really happy about and continually screaming at the top of my lungs during the tune)
• The Killers - Somebody Told Me
• The Prodigy - Smack My Bitch Up (which T. rather charmingly demonstrated when I asked what the name of the track was. I got my own back later 'cos I ain't nobody's bitch.)
• Groove Armada - Superstylin' (a never-fails-to-get-anyone-dancing kind of track)
• Aldrin & Akien - Letitia's Dream (as his first encore track)

I can't quite find the words to describe how incredible I found his set. What I can say is that the sheer amount of talent Aldrin has matches how nice and down-to-earth I find him. He is one of the most humble, friendliest DJs I've met and I'm really glad I finally managed to catch him in action. Of course, it helps that he's kind of hot too, especially with his goatee.

A.: Oh no. Where's Willy?
Me: Put your hand in your pants and look for him!
A.: He's not here! He is a bit small. The last I remember of Willy is that I had my hand on him right before we went to the bar.
(After more fruitless searching)
A.: Oh, I expect he'll pop up somewhere.

Just to clarify, the above conversation took place at Cafe Cosmo last night, when we chanced upon the Happy Family card game. We had opened up the pack to check out the rather strange names the characters had. The very first card turned out to be that of Willy Weeder, who was, rather unfortunately, featured holding a hose in a rather suggestive position. This, puerile and juvenile as it was, naturally had me in stitches.

A. and I wanted to share this with M., but as she was involved in a discussion with someone else, we decided to go get our drinks first before showing the card to her. Somewhere in between the bar and our seats, I noticed that neither one of us was holding the deck of cards and asked A. where they were. He took them out from his pants pocket and put them on the table, whereupon I discovered the card we wanted to show M. was missing.

We related this anecdote (including the abovementioned conversation) to M. later. Her response? Knowing A., Willy will probably pop up all shrivelled up from the wash after we get home.

The problem with indie nights (I can't call them pop as I still associate that with pop music, like whatever I hear on the radio), is that whenever T. and his friends get into conversations about it, I invariably feel left out. There is nothing whatsoever I can contribute to the discussion because, quite simply, I haven't heard of the bands or the songs that they're discussing. Yes, they may have had years of education and experience behind them and I'm incredibly new to the scene, but still, it doesn't exactly help when you're perpertually sitting there, silently listening to whatever's going, and then they turn and ask you, "so, what do you think?"

So it was with great relief that my friends, M. and her boyfriend, A., turned up at the indie night at Cafe Cosmo (an indie version of hideout) where I was with T., especially since M., indie music guru status not withstanding, is an old friend of mine, and A., is quite used to feeling what I'm currently feeling.

So, in spite of my not having heard of many of the songs that were being played, I ended up having a much better than expected time, due to the lovely conversation I had with A. about work, Singapore, London, life and incredibly enough, scary movies. Well, okay, fine, given that the last topic resulted in my not being able to get to sleep until 5 am, maybe we shouldn't have gotten into that, but nevertheless, I had a really enjoyable time. I'm also grateful for the conversation I had with M. concerning T. because there're not that many other people out there who'll understand why what I have with T., no matter how nice he is, or how sweet we look together, won't work out in the long-term.

Enid: Look, I didn’t say you couldn’t come with me… I just feel weird about it. You can still come.
Rebecca: Oh yeah, you really want me to.
Enid: What? I do!
Rebecca: Well maybe I don’t! I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything... I just want it to be like it was in high school!
Enid: I guess that’s the problem. I feel like I want to become a totally different person.
Rebecca: I don’t get what this has to do with me…
Enid: It has everything to do with you. You remember every little detail I wish I could forget. Before I was going to college, my secret plan was to one day not tell anybody and just get on some bus to some random city and just move there and become this totally different person…
Rebecca: Then what?
Enid: And not come back until I had become this totally new person… I used to think about it all the time.
Rebecca: I don’t get it.
Enid: That’s because you don’t utterly loathe yourself.
- Ghost World, Daniel Clowes (dialogue taken from The Importance of Being Enid)

For the record, I don't loathe myself completely, but I do sometimes feel that I need a fresh start. And that's what I love and hate about Singapore - that everyone knows someone who knows you. There's always something or someone who'll remind you of the person you're trying to get away from being. How can you possibly hope to start off with a clean slate when there'll always be someone around you who remembers what you were like back then? There are days when I feel people are constantly judging me, looking at my background and qualifications and demanding why is it that I'm not doing better and how dare I feel so stressed out by life?

At the same time, every time you meet someone new, you spend time instinctively looking for what the two of you have in common: hobbies, schools, universities, employers and who you know. And what could be better than knowing that someone who has already received your stamp of approval has similarly given his/her stamp of approval to the friend who you just haven't met yet?

While chatting to some friends about alcohol and drinking, I told them what surprises most people - that I didn't drink that much while studying in London at all. I only really started drinking six months after I started work (there're not that many vices you can indulge in here to relieve stress) and I can even tell you the exact date(s) I began drinking so heavily.

It was either 16th September 2004 at the Forbidden City soft launch (free flow of champagne, didn't eat dinner) or 18th September 2004 at James Lavelle's wicked set at Zouk.

As I wasn't sure about the exact date of the FC soft launch, I went through my blog archives to see if I could confirm when it was. To my immense surprise, it turns out that I blogged about neither of these events, maybe due to the hangovers I was suffering during that week, or more likely, the amount of stress I was under due to work and my guy situation then (which was why I was drinking in the first place).

So here it is - the long overdue review of James Lavelle's set last year at Zouk... and also the occasion of my second Flaming Lamborghini ever (the first being at Judge Jules' set at Centro in November 2003). Thank goodness for my habit of e-mailing reviews to friends.

Lavelle opened the night with my favourite Unkle track, In A State (Sasha remix). I was incredibly happy when I heard it and was generally all over the place because he was playing the kind of music I really needed to hear at that point in time, including Smashing Pumpkins - 1979 (unknown remix), Nancy Sinatra - Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) and U2 - Where The Streets Have No Name (during the first encore). The entire set ended at 5.30 am.

If you're wondering why Lavelle's set at Zouk marked such an important milestone, it's because it was the first time I went clubbing with my colleagues (as two others were similarly working in the office that Saturday night) and the very next week was the first time I drank enough to not remember what happened. And after that, I ended up drinking and clubbing (mostly at Zouk) every single weekend until the end of November.

While persuing the menu at Waraku, a Japanese paper steamboat restaurant, we noticed that they served German sausages as one of the side-dishes. My friend and I remarked, "If the sausages were served on a bed of spaghetti, they could call it the Axis Special."

That being said, the miso soup base used for the paper steamboat is absolutely divine. Salty but oh-so-good.

I have discovered a plethora of fantastic songs over the last few days, thanks to a combination of Scrubs, recommendations from friends, and surfing the Internet.

First off is Old 97's - Question. This has got to be the sweetest, most sincere proposal song. Ever. The lyrics are incredibly simple, as is the tune, and yet, it's so beautiful. When I heard this song on Scrubs (2.15 His Story), I teared up and rewound my video tape four times just to listen to the song.

Next off is Rhett Miller - Come Around. This is another simple and emotional song from Rhett Miller (the frontman of Old 97's). "I'm dressed all in blue / And I'm remembering you / And the dress you wore / When you broke my heart ." This is quite possibly the most lovesick song you'll ever hear.

From a friend comes The Postal Service - Such Great Heights (available as a download from the band's site), one of the happiest songs I've heard to date. Ben Gibbard's earnest vocals and the infectious synths make this one of the catchiest melodies ever. The lyrics are cutely quirky: "I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles / In our eyes are mirror images and when / We kiss they're perfectly aligned." Iron and Wine's acoustic cover of the song is as far from original as it can be. Sam Bean's whispered vocals make it beautifully wistful and fragile. Both versions are well worth the listen.

Another song from The Postal Service is The District Sleeps Alone Tonight (available from Sub Pop's site) which is an incredibly mournful tune. Gibbard's plaintive vocals over the melancholy tune accompanied by staccato drum beats are very affecting; when he sings "You seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex / A stranger with your door key explaining that I am just visiting" before exclaiming "And I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving," it just tears at your heart in spite of the frenetic electronic beats in the background.

Other bands I've discovered include songs from Snow Patrol, Frou Frou and Royksopp, but I've discovered in the process of writing this entry that my music reviewing skills suck, so I'll stop here. Perhaps another time.

Scrubs is one of the most entertaining comedies around. It's got fantastic lines, a funny cast and incredible timing. To top it off, it's accompanied by a damn good soundtrack too.

So why on earth is it shown on television at the ungodly hour of 2 am or later?

Case in point (taken from 2.15: His Story):
Dr. Cox: You're giving me advice?
J.D.: Yeah. Feel free to return the favor.
Dr. Cox: Fair enough. Try this on for size: No matter where you go in life, always keep an eye out for Johnny, the tackling Alzheimer's patient.
He leaves J.D. and continues down the hall.
J.D.: What's that supposed to mean?
Suddenly, an old man shoots from a doorway shouting "Who am I?!?" and knocks into J.D., throwing him to the floor.

Well, I found that scene funny.

Oh, okay. Fine, how about this?

Taken from 3.20 My Fault:
J.D. (narrating): I think that the problem with most people who want what they can’t have is that when they actually get the thing they covet, they don’t want it anymore. But not this guy.
Elliot: “Well Dr. Dorian, you have me. You finally have me.”
(“Finger Eleven - One Thing” cuts out abruptly)
J.D. (narrating): Oh my God, I don’t want her!

Oh, come on. You've got to find that funny!

Links:
Scrubs (Official Site)
Scrubs - My Own Personal 'Net Thing (Unofficial Site)
Stylus Magazine: Top Ten Music Moments on NBC’s Scrubs

Have you ever found yourself caught between carpe diem and the fear of consequences?

I acknowledge this: when we end, it will be painful. And it will hurt badly... for me. But in time, I'll get over it. And I am enjoying what we have. I'm learning a little on life, how to relax and let things be and I'm definitely learning a lot about indie music.

I'm tired of feeling so scared about how I'll feel when the inevitable happens, and I'm drained from constantly telling myself that I shouldn't get too involved, shouldn't do certain things, shouldn't say certain words, because this isn't a serious relationship. The constant cost-benefit analysis of what I'm getting and what I'll be paying is really starting to get to me and is very much adding to the strain of keeping this unserious. The worries and fears vanish whenever I'm with you, but the moment we're apart, they come back redoubled.

I do wish I knew how you manage to live life with such dispassion and that it would rub off on me... although I still prefer throwing myself into the things I like and enjoy with (measured) reckless abandon.

But to quote from Rent: Forget regrets, for life is yours to miss. No other road, no other way, no day but today.

From today onwards, I will boldly walk down that path and accept whatever it is that gets thrown my way. No more wavering between getting out now or continuing this. And I will push aside those nagging doubts in my head and accept that when I'm with you, I am happy. And happiness - even for a moment - should be savoured.

I've had an overdose of incredibly good music this weekend.

First off, there was Sessions at Phuture (Saltwater!) yesterday night, along with Ice T rapping in the main room, followed by Poptart at 4.30 am (I know, I know. I'm crazy). Then there was the third day of the Baybeats festival today where I managed to catch Serenaide, a Brit-sounding local band who is T's current favourite.

Between yesterday and today, I've got five hours of intense, hardcore dancing, three hours of sleep and a whole lot of angst (nothing to do with the music, sadly).

Oh, and thanks to the marvellously English V Tea Room at the Esplanade and their gorgeously designed menus, I've rediscovered my love for Mucha.

Completely irrelevant anecdote of the weekend:
(After coming out of the restroom)
Me: Cockroach in cubicle. Never good.
T.: (laughs) Well, I didn't hear you scream so at least you saw it before you did anything.
Me: You obviously have a misconception at what stage I was at when I saw the cockroach.

Note to self: Matching S. drink for drink, speed for speed is most definitely not a good idea. Never again.

Taken from this site:

In the U.S. alone, the cost of alcohol use is a staggering $148 billion
dollars each year, much of it due to work missed or decreased occupational
productivity due to hangover. Hangovers account for an average annual opportunity cost of $2000 per working adult. Contrary to popular misconception, light to moderate drinkers account for the most work related costs.

On love and Bollywood shows:
I once told an Indian friend, "If life resembled the movies, then I envy you. Whenever you go out with a girl, all you have to do is jump out into the streets and start singing and dancing. If the rest of the street follows you, you know you've met your soul-mate. Otherwise, you just move on to the next girl."

Anthony Pappa was brilliant last night. He turned in the best set I've heard this year, beating even Steve Lawler's fantastic set at Zouk earlier this year. Going full on dark, dirty and progressive house with the very occasional foray into trance, Pappa's set was a complete mind-f*** experience, but in the best possible way. His build-ups were almost impossible to take; first he'd build up the music and instead of letting it peak, he'd take it down slightly, then build it up even higher, then take it down again, and build it up again and just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he'd unleash an explosive climax. It was one hell of an experience for sure, with all of the dancers on the floor making love to the music, letting Pappa have his way with us.

I wasn't the only one to feel this way for sure. Looking around, I saw people dancing wildly with wide grins on their faces. I could no more suppress the grin on my face then I could have kept my feet from moving.

His first encore began at 4.30 am and he began with a track that I didn't expect to hear for sure: LSG - Netherworld. As it's a pretty old trance track and most of the people at Zouk were house-heads, I don't think that many people recognised it but I did for sure, and I was jumping madly to it the whole entire time it was played. I think it embodied the entire sound of Pappa's set quite well, as it's got three distinct parts to the song (techy, uplifting and then real hard), and anyone listening to it gets kind of messed up too (in the good sense, of course). T. even asked me if all three parts belonged to the same song!

I ended up leaving one or two tracks before his encore ended because I simply couldn't take it anymore. My feet, bruised and battered in my incredibly worn-out sneakers, were aching like hell, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the rest of my body started to protest due to my once-in-a-blue-moon visit to the weights area of the gym. So, in spite of my die-hard chiongster doesn't-leave-till-the-DJ-stops-or-I-drop-dead reputation, I opted to leave to get - yes - 15 more minutes of sleep then I would've otherwise. But I honestly couldn't take it anymore. I could hardly even walk up the stairs to get out of Zouk.

And to think that earlier in the week, I was contemplating missing out on this because I knew for sure I'd see T. there and I wasn't sure how I'd take it. But some time has passed since our argument, I've been completely worn out by work and hence have lost all energy to be angry or even hurt, we've talked, sorted out what I suppose should be called a misunderstanding, and we're pretty much back on the same terms now, except that we both know where we stand. And yes, I'm happy again.

My brother called this morning to reassure us that he was fine. As the London Tube was shut and buses not in service as police were working to find out who was behind the blasts, quite a lot of people were stranded, my brother included. Being typical Londoners, he and his colleagues decided to go to the pub first before attempting to get home.

So, the following conversation ensued between my brother and his colleagues over drinks:
Bro: I guess our best bet would be to take the river taxi. It should be safe enough.
Boss (with a grave expression on his face, beer in one hand, cigar in the other): No. It could be torpedoed.

Later on, my brother and his colleague decided to leave to go home.
Various colleagues: Bye, see you tomorrow!
Boss: Bye! Remember: torpedoes, torpedoes.

(At this point, I interjected, "well... it's not as if you could jump off the boat if you see anything." My brother responded, "yeah, if they're that well-prepared, the river would probably be full of killer piranhas and after we all abandoned ship, we'd be all 'Oh. Bugger. Ow ow ow ah!!!'" Heh.)

As my brother and his colleague struggled to get to Embankment, which is not at all near his office, they decided to try getting a taxi, but obviously, with the thousands of people stranded, they were unable to get one. Given that, my brother's colleague came up with a rather innovative solution.

So, to all of you bemused stranded Londoners and tourists along Oxford St who saw an excitedly squealing English woman and an embarrassed Chinese man besides her riding in the trishaw heading towards Embankment, yes, that was my brother. Now you know.

Ended up buying myself a bottle of perfume called Eau du Bonheur (Water of Happiness) from Fragonard while on my way home from the office. The shop at Millenia Walk has been open for about a month now but it was my first time in there, and the friendly proprietress, Elaine Seah, really sold me on the stuff she was selling. It wasn't exactly cheap, but given that you can't get these perfumes anywhere else in the world (other than the Fragonard shops in France, of course) and that there's a 20% discount during the Great Singapore Sale period, I didn't mind.

Besides, it came in the cutest glass bottle and wrapped in a beautiful little pouch. I'll post photos once I've taken them, but meanwhile, here's the catalogue shot.

"Eau du Bonheur is a unisex toilet water, fresh and floral on a woody background of maté leaves, sandalwood and cedar. A fragrant complicity to be shared, in a sober 200 ml/6.8 fl.oz bottle discreetly dotted with frosted hearts and wrapped in a fine embroidered pouch."

And guess what? After buying it, I was incredibly happy. Quite an astounding feat given how tired and depressed I had been feeling when I left the office.

You bloody bastards! Thank God my family and friends are safe.

I was sitting with a friend who was contemplating whether she should break up with her boyfriend this evening. Needless to say, given both our states of mind, we made quite a happy sight.

Thankfully, an acquaintance cheered us both up by making jokes about how he should set up a rival to Villa Bali:
Acquaintance A: I'll call it Villa Phuket.
Acquaintance B: Villa Patpong (Bangkok's most notorious night-life area) would be better.
A: Yeah, then we can staff it with ladyboys going "me love you long time!"

Heh.

Tu me manques aussi, mon cheri.

I wish my heart hadn't decided to get involved.

We'll be all right in the end, I know, but right now... it's just a little painful.

A friend of mine blogged about the surgery she underwent to remove the lumps that were found in one of her breasts yesterday.

She's the same age I am.

I can't find the words to express how awed I am by her courage in blogging about it as well as her taking the time to encourage the rest of us - who in our youth foolishly believe all serious medical ailments will pass us by - to go get ourselves thoroughly checked out.

Please go read her entry. Her words are far better than mine will ever be.

I was talking to a friend who'll be leaving for the UK to do a Masters this year and she was telling me how scared she was about quitting her job and going over to an incredibly expensive country and basically, almost starting over.

When I was 18 and going off to London, I don't think I was scared at all. I wasn't upset that I'd be leaving my family and friends behind. But now, 7 years on, contemplating that same option, after having been financially independent for 3 years now, I have to admit that going to London without a job scares me s***less.

Granted, circumstances were different back then. My brother was also in the UK and so were quite a few good friends... but when did I start getting so scared of life? Why is it that when we were younger and more foolish, we found that we could hurl ourselves into any situation without second thoughts?

How do you free your soul
After you’ve found a friend
How do you teach your heart
It’s a crime to fall in love again
- Insensitive, Jann Arden

While browsing through the weekend edition of The Business Times and finding out that there really are such things as good British restaurants, I discovered a restaurant and bar review site - Square Meal. I wandered throughout the site, wondering if I could possibly have been to any of the so-called best restaurants before, as eating out in London is horribly expensive, and found that my dear brother had taken my mother and I to Cafe Japan, one of the best Japanese restaurants in London, just last year.

Café Japan is a sushi & sashimi specialist – & a damn fine one
at that: if the fish were any fresher it would slap you. Portions are large
& prices are reasonable for the likes of fatty tuna, marinated mackerel
& seabass sushi, creative hand rolls &, we mention it every
year, black cod with miso for just £12.

We arrived the day before the owners/chefs were closing to go back to Japan for the summer. The food was divine, especially given the amazingly affordable prices, and service was fantastic. I recall the staff greeting and bidding farewell to everyone with cheerful shouts in English and I was sorely tempted to yell back, "You're welcome!!!" and slam the door to match them in volume.

Who knows? Maybe if I had, I would have gotten my long-sought-after job in London so much earlier.

I just watched one of the most powerful episodes of CSI ever - Hollywood Brass (5.20). This episode focuses on Detective Jim Brass and his relationship with his estranged daughter, Ellie. I'm not going to write too much about it because people really ought to go see this episode for themselves, but two scenes really stood out.

The first is the conversation at the bar between Annie, Jim's ex-lover, and Jim. When Jim speaks about his failed marriage, his failure at raising Ellie and his admission that Ellie isn't his biological daughter, one can see the pain etched into his face, not to mention the intensity of his voice. It's painful.

The second scene is the final scene of the show, when you see him placing a - tiny, tacky, pathetic even - gift outside of Ellie's apartment door, along with a short card telling her that "Whenever you're ready, I'll make it happen. (Heart) Dad", before walking away. When I saw the card, I couldn't help but cry. That scene is incredibly heartbreaking in a way I cannot possibly describe.

It's very unusual for an episode of CSI to grab me that powerfully. Paul Guilfoyle's magnificent acting in that episode only should be acknowledged.

How stupid could I have been?

I need to take a step back. Or learn - somehow - to never fall for someone.

You don't believe we'll work out in the long-term. Then why the heck are you still here? And whoever said I was looking for a long-term relationship anyway? I'm not looking to settle down, but I am looking to go out with someone who believes in the possibility of us, even if it's only for a few weeks.

Whatever happens, happens.

I can't go out with someone who fully expects that I'll get sick of him tomorrow, or that next week, we just might break up because of our differences. It doesn't matter how much you like me if that's the way you feel.

I need you to believe in me, in us.

And if you still don't get that after all that I've done, then what's the point? We won't work out. We never will.

The Princess Bride is one of my favourite movies of all times. It's one of the sweetest, most romantic and wittiest movies ever made. And despite it being released close to twenty years ago in 1987, it doesn't show its age. Not for one iota.

Because of the uniqueness of the script, The Princess Bride makes for one mighty fine movie to play a drinking game (the advanced version can be found here). So that's what we did last night at a friend's place, after having some delicious spaghetti bolognese, crackers and pate, garlic bread with cheese and a Mediterranean salad (courtesy of yours truly - it's very hard to mess up a salad).

And because I've seen the movie five times, I was incredibly enthusiastic, yelling "drink!" whenever one of the drink phrases occurred. The thing with this movie though, is that the cues aren't spread evenly. Instead, they're all bunched together in some parts (especially with the iocane powder, Queen Buttercup and miracle worker scenes). It's a good thing we were drinking wine instead of hard liquor, because otherwise, we'd all have been roaring drunk within the first ten minutes of the movie, since the cues occurred at least twenty times. I was certainly Princess Bride-d by the end of the movie, despite having run out of alcohol 25 minutes before the end.

Much to my - and someone else's - pleasant surprise, the red wine I drank didn't give me a raging headache, and instead provided me with the impetus to drag a certain someone off to a secluded area and... let's just say, be someone very unlike me.

After that, we hopped over to Zouk because I was dying to test out my recently acquired Zouk membership (YAY!!!!) and as it turned out, it worked perfectly. I'm so happy. Finally, I've been recognised.

I'm not sure whether it was a result of some rare alignment of the planets and stars or just plain ol' destiny, but we had a spontaneous gathering of all but one member of my batch for lunch today. We haven't met up in a terribly long time and it felt so incredibly good to meet up with them and just talk (crap) with them. We were all laughing so much that at one point, tears just streamed down my face.

One classic exchange:
Chinese guy A: (referring to quite dark-skinned Indian colleague sitting opposite him) He's black.
Chinese guy B: You should say "he's dark."
A: No what, he's black.
B: You're dark too.
A: Yeah, that's why. I'm dark, he's black.
B: Actually, you're dark, he's darker.
A: Yeah. I'm dark, he's dark brown.

Obviously, it was one of those "you had to be there" moments.

Another exchange:
A: You don't drink, you don't dance, you don't eat (in reference to his being vegetarian)... do you gamble?
Indian guy C: No.
A: Do you do any sports? Any hobbies? Do you womanise?
C shakes his head in response to all three questions.
A: Then what do you do?!

And that's one of the reasons I've been with my company as long as I have. Regardless of the frustration that my job has been causing me, these people do mean a lot to me, in a way I never imagined they would when I first started working.

It's also one of the main reasons I'm not sure I'll be able to leave Singapore just yet. With the amount of time I've been spending with my friends (all of them, not just my work friends), I've developed relationships which I dearly cherish and rely on to help me get through life.

But when push comes to shove, I know I'll do the right thing. Nothing will keep me from going to work overseas. It's just a matter of timing.

Thanks to an article in the New York Times on online dating written by Mr. Hal R. Varian (! - an economics professor from UC-Berkeley) himself, I've learnt that there is such a thing called the Lake Wobegon Effect, which is the tendency for most people to describe themselves or their abilities as above average.

The origins of the phrase can be found here.