The Rain in Spain Falls Mainly on the Plain

March 31, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments

Went on a two and a half day whirlwind tour of Barcelona, just because it's an absolute tourist trap that everyone must see.

Highlights and lowlights:

- We were robbed of 50 euros before our very eyes by a cruel woman who thought she could gladly take advantage of three Asian girls travelling by themselves.

"You give me no 50, no 50!"
"For fuck's sake, we just GAVE you a 50 euro bill!"
"No 50, no 50!"

The protest goes on for a while until a girl in a Foo Fighters sweater snidely says "Go back to Singapore!", to which we replied, "Fuck you, we're not from Singapore! Damn bitch." I don't understand people who say "Go back to *insert respective Asian country here*". HOW do you bring yourself to say such things without feeling slightly guilty? I blame the parents. I do.

And just like that we had to cough up an extra 21 euros for the bus ride from Girona (the airport) to Barcelona because she took MY 50 and said I didn't give her any money. Not to say we weren't told to be careful because almost everyone who goes to Barcelona has some sort of theft/loss story to tell.

- Food was so-so. Paella was a disappointment. I've had better at La Bodega back home, sad to say. Churros, however, never fails. Patatas fritas, too, never ever fails. Oh, how I long for the glorious taste of the spicy saltiness of a carefully cubed deep fried potato that's been lightly smothered in garlic mayonnaise to be etched permanently on my tongue :(

- Camwhoring at Park Guell.

- The weather was fucking miserable. Kept pissing rain - like how it does in London.

- Buying 18 cents water.

- Lusting over the new S/S 09 Zara blazers. They had every colour of the rainbow!! I clapped my hands in glee when I saw them and drew some strange looks, but alas..there was no time to queue. C'est la vie. You can never have too many blazers.

Photowhoring at Park Guell

My short lived sexual love affair with patatas fritas.

Look up 'decadence' in the dictionary and you should see this picture next to it.

I couldn't help myself =)

Tapas at the famed Bilbao Berria

Sagrada Familia, the church that's been under construction since 1882.

Casa Batllo, famed for its Gaudi architecture.
(Next time I also want my house to look like this)

Back to the grind stone. How reality sucks.

I want macaroons.


March 23, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments

Just been through one of those days. Feel like flopping on my bed and doing absolutely nothing but sifting through a intellectually debilitating fashion magazine that will fry my neurons so much so that I will just go to sleep immediately. It's getting cold again. FFS. It was a nice day yesterday, enough to go tramping up and down Oxford St in an electric blue micro-mini skirt sans tights and my precious 5 inch ASOS heels.

(Picture from Olsens Anonymous)

I've been walking out of the house looking like this because I adore the Olsen twins too much and I have become an unapologetic fashion victim

On a slightly inane note, if I were a mathematical function, I'd totally be a monotonic one. Scratch that, I'd be an exponential function that never converges to zero. Booyah.

It's a Raging Sickness

March 20, 2009 | Published in | 1 comments

Revenge is sweeter than you ever were.


March 16, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments

No work has been done tonight. Boo me. Have instead uncanned even greater desire for material things as an expensive but effective way to distract self from exponentially dwindling intelligence levels as I look upon my signal processing notes with a great sigh.


At the risk of sounding like a total and utter bimbs.....ah, what the fuck. I'm just a regular fashion victim! Where lah is my fairy godmother who will bring me all these goodies? (Notice how I didn't say Prince Charming as a sign of devotion to my independent feminist ideals mwahah)

Marc by Marc Staple Bag

Old school lime green Balenciaga motorcycle bag

OOOHHH Balenciaga ankle boot luvv

Have. Want. Need. Night.


March 11, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments

Oh, what's a girl to do with herself in times of stress?

I'll tell you!

- karla's closet and that's chic...probably any fashion blog will do
- Reese's Pieces/Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and Hummingbird cupcakes (red velvet isn't that hot, seriously. vanilla >> red velvet any day)
- tom yum soup with chicken and broccoli.
- nail polish

Ccb lah it broke in the mail =.=
Thank goodness British people trust their customers enough to refund them immediately.

- kopi-o/Americano. PLENTY of this stuff is good for you =)

I love my Reese's pieces & nail polish so much I decided to publicly declare my love for these two things.

fuckity fuck fuck shit. 379847594ksdjfoisd.

Shopaholics Anonymous

March 09, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments

You know you're in trouble when you dreams entail buying Prada bags and platform shoes adorned with red soles and Chinese characters, and then the first thing that you do in the morning is make yourself a cup of coffee and log on to the Internet to find look at that pair of insane Balenciaga booties just to whittle your sense of being into a comfort zone because you know that, in reality, you'll never be able to afford it :(

You know you're in trouble also when you spread the word about fashion blogs like and sea of shoes and your flatmate begins to curse you publicly on Facebook. Passing fashion blogs around is akin to passing a heroin needle with HIV around. 

On another note, I cut my ten sizes too large 'I Heart NY' t-shirt into something that vaguely resembles a t-shirt that a 12-year-old Kurt Cobain groupie would have worn back in 1992. 

All this when I was supposed to have spent the weekend mugging. Haaaaiyyaaaaa.

Happiness in a List

March 07, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments

Amid the loud, loud headbanging (hurray for old school '90s grunge) music playing in the background and my Artificial Intelligence coursework (I curse the day Prolog was invented) just lurking somewhere on my desktop, I thought I'd compile a list of a few things that add a little sparkle to my otherwise mundane life. These things that may not make me smile or laugh or show any outward emotion whatsoever, but they do elicit a nascent feeling of unadulterated warmth and satiation after. The concept is simple, really.

Not in any particular order.

- my grandparents
- listening to my song of the moment on repeat for 24 hours straight
- sipping on sugarless black coffee in the morning
- sun rays glimmering through a section of cloud in the evening sky before sunset
- nice texts from people you haven't heard from in a while
- nice texts
- late night conversations that seem to go on forever
- eating a very simple lunch with my family at home on a regular weekday
- being able to string together a sentence with English, Malay, Hokkien and Mandarin thrown in. sometimes even Cantonese.
- when a song I really like comes on radio (back home, that is)
- the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from a bakery
- the sight of iced cupcakes
- the knowledge that i've cleaned up and settled everything for the day so i can retire to bed peacefully
- watching my muffins rise in the oven
- buying cheap cocktail rings that engulf my fingers
- after running for two hours, i still am not panting my guts out. (but sadly, i reckon this is no longer the case)
- vacuuming
- rearranging my wardrobe
- getting a much needed hug
- cracking my knuckles until they pop
- stumbling upon a piece of inexpensive clothing or jewellery that you know you must have
- mosh pits
- getting up from the hairdresser's chair after five hours and then proceeding to admire newly blow dried hair
- brie cheese and crackers
- not fucking up my nails when i paint them
- handwritten letters
- adorning my entire wrist with ridiculous gewgaws

Walking in Someone Else's Shoes

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Was supposed to study today, but stuff like being unable to repress the urge to buy things happens.

My first pair of vintage shoes, circa 1980s.

Not too pricey, plus they match the hair. So wtf.

13 Again

March 05, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments

My hair is blue- and red-striped. Always been a sucker for hair dye. But I've been told I look like a Barcelona FC fan and my hair vaguely resembles the French flag/Malaysian flag without the yellow.


You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet

March 02, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments

'Til you've seen Metallica live.

True, I never really listened to them before this, but I don't care. Die hard Metallica fans can kill me but I am happy. You can shoot me and I will die and I won't come back to haunt you. I only have ever liked "Enter Sandman" and "Die, Die, My Darling" (as in, know lyrics inside out) but fuck that. Their stage presence is amazing. It's beyond words. I can finally use the word ineffable. James Hetfield knows how to control a ten thousand plus crowd, I have to say. He really does. My calves hurt like a bitch from all the incessant tiptoeing I've been doing to peer over the heads of many sweat drenched metalheads but I am pleased. Oh God I'm rambling.

I can't remember the last time I head banged like a fat shirtless man with multiple piercings. I believe I was fourteen and standing very, very far away from Linkin Park in the year 2003. God, that was classic. That was the beginning of one stage of my life. And this....

Wtf. This is only, like, the best thing ever.


March 01, 2009 | Published in |

I stumble around feebly in an oxygen-deprived haze, wholly incapable of breathing through my nose, slipping in and out of a cold somnambulant state, weaving in and out of perishable dreams where people don't speak to me or know my name and into the stark reality that is my cold, cold dimly lit bedroom. I rue the fact that I was awoken by sunshine and the catastrophic sounds of morning - the scraping of chairs on the floor above, the slamming of doors, the screeches and wailings of the minute toddler across the hall. Why wake me when I want to sleep for a week and remember the trivial details of my senseless dreams that torture me with beautiful and painful memories from a contorted time well of past, present and that of which has never happened to me: a boy who has never uttered more than five words to me in his life, another who has said too much, a wreckage of glass, displaced screams and frozen supermarket trolleys in a blizzard. Then I am falling wayward into a chasm that has broken all laws of the space-time continuum to the rhythm of a hundred and twenty five decibel sound that vaguely resembles the sound that resonates from a cheap drugstore alarm clock. My eyes fly open and I think all the world has ended but in truth I lie only in the cold rank darkness of 3.41AM. Then I am happy amidst a trail of destruction and sorrow, feeling a warm hand on mine that only elicited memories of the warm scent of soap, oil and freshly pressed towels. Then I am amid verdant greenery and flowers and best friends that translate into a sinking peatbog that claws at me with brown fingers. I hold my breath.

Wake up, wake up.