Fat Shfat

April 24, 2009 | Published in , | 3 comments

So I've been sitting on my fucking ass all day attempting to study. That's how it's been for the past 4 weeks or so. Last night I was feeling particularly bored and in a really random moment of truth, I bent down to look under the table for my murderous Birks when suddenly I felt a tremulous jiggle of waves undulating across my stomach. Wtf.

Earthquake ah?

Holy shit FAT FAT FAT.
*scarfs another jelly bean or 28*

In all my 20 years, I've never been able to get over my - what the media these days is calling - "curves". No girl I've met is completely happy with her body. I've got friends who only eat a meal a day, friends who weigh their food, friends who gym compulsively six times a week, friends who go on the weirdest and dumbest diets etc etc

..No, none of these "friends" are me!

Curves seem to be in the in-thing these days. The media is done and fed up with Kate Moss's anorexic drugged out look. They're putting people like Beth Ditto on the front cover of magazines.

OK I'm all for curves and being whatever you want look like, but for the record, it cannot be healthy to look like Beth Ditto, regardless of what anyone says about her ability to break down the perceived image of what women should/could look like. GOOD for you, woman, that you are big and beautiful but in reality let me tell you it's not healthy to be a size 22! Artherosclerosis, liver failure, diabetes, kidney stones, hyperglycaemia much??

I really like her tats though.

Anyhoo.

There is not one person I've met in my family, extended and immediate, who might be called "thin". That's not to say we're all grotesquely obese either. In fact, we're all pretty healthy. Every member in my family - 80-year-old grandfather and 72-year-old grandmother included - is a member of Fitness First, Cheras Leisure Mall. The real fatty in the house is probably the fourteen-year-old dog Snowy who resembles a medium sized sheep with really loose skin.

By all means, I really shouldn't be my size given all the exercise I do (well, not now - exam season doesn't count as a very fit period in one's life). Ideally, I should be one size smaller. Having said that, my father should be a rail thin man as well. He's done an Ironman (1.5km swim, 180km cycle, 42km run consecutively) every year for as long as I can remember and has also run 40km a day in the Sahara desert for 7 days straight. But he certainly doesn't look the stereotypical lean machine athlete you see at the gym pumping iron. (Yeah, insanity does sort of run in the family). Pfft. Genes.

Or we could blame the bane and reason of everyone's existence:

FOOD.

I can't and won't ever shut my trap unless I'm that depressed. My family won't ever shut their traps unless there's a worldwide famine. Food is by far the best thing to ever happen to anyone!! Do we not look forward to lunches and dinners (I gave up waking up early to eat breakfast), whether it be for the company or simply just to fill your growling stomach? I will always eat more than I have to. I admit, I tend to gorge myself sometimes when I'm uber hungry and feel really bad after, but I get over it by working extra hard at the gym the next day. Aiya...if eating what I like means more "curves" and "thunder thighs" then so be it.

Anyway, I know I can do one thing skinny people can't - strangle rapists with my fat thighs.

Birks Schmirks

April 23, 2009 | Published in , | 2 comments

Whoever said Birks are comfy ought to be shot. 

The only reason I bought a pair is because of the cherries (couldn't find a picture) on the leather and because I believed the propaganda going around that Birks are good for you. The region between my big toe and second toe is all red from walking through the park. I have injured feet from wearing slippers. How ironic is that sentence, anyway.

In other news, theoutnet.com seems to be taking the cash-strapped world by storm. And even then, I am not going to spend 20 pounds on a hairband by Marc Jacobs.


Beauty Schbeauty

April 22, 2009 | Published in , , , , , , | 1 comments

I read Perezhilton.com on a daily - if not hourly basis (the shame, I know) - and while he is often quite funny, I think he's seriously starting to become a whiny bitch re: the Gaygate at Miss USA 2009. Perez has been going on and on and ON about how Miss California responded to his question.

Perez Hilton: “Vermont recently became the 4th state to legalize same-sex marriage. Do you think every state should follow suit? Why or why not?”

Carrie Prejean: “Well, I think it’s great that Americans are able to choose one or the other. We live in a land where you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage. And you know what, in my country, in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman. No offence to anybody out there, but that’s how I was raised and that’s how I think it should be between a man and a woman. Thank you very much.”

I have to admit, that answer really did her no good. She drew all sorts of boos from the crowd although it was cut out on TV (haha!). AND the fact that she's from California! Whether she likes it or not, America will always be made up of gays, lesbians and transgenders. People like Perez can destroy you if he so wishes. She shouldn't go around saying things like that because people are going to hit her for openly discriminating against gays and lesbians. And wtf just because you're going to be crowned Miss USA doesn't give you the right to say 'my country'. Gee. It ain't the crown for fucking Queen of the World.

While I am totally on the boat for same sex marriage (hell I'm up for marriage with anything, just so long as it's not an inanimate object), Perez has been consistently blogging about other people's viewpoints on gay marriage post-Miss USA, people like Miley Cyrus and Heidi Montag. Seriously? Miley Cyrus and Heidi Montag? They're probably the two people who matter the least on this planet. I've always wanted to trip Miley Cyrus up because she and her Juicy Couture tracksuit just scream "I'm a sixteen-year-old with large pouty lips that are clean from not giving my ripped 21-year-old boyfriend any BJs! I'm so innocent! Bully me now!!!"

I digressed.

It would seem that he's more angry at the fact that she's against gay marriage more so than the way she answered it, although he claims that she's allowed to have her own opinions. Some people have lauded her courage in expressing her honest opinions, while others have totally condemned her for saying "marriage should ONLY be between a man and a woman". I think the part that probably hurt the most is the fact that she repeated that sentence more than once - implying quite explicitly that if you're gay you're basically not worthy of loving anyone and being able to sanctify that bond. If I were in Perez's shoes, I'd have thrown a hissy fit right away. But please la, Perez, don't bring Heidi Montag and Miley Cyrus into it. Go on fighting for gay rights, but don't drag Z-list people who only pretend to care about the LGBT society into it.

However, the fact that she can say all that and have a 10,000 watt smile on her face at the same time totally amazed me. Most beauty pageant contestants are trained to have smiles plastered on their faces 24/7. It's pretty tragic how people subject themselves to such pain, but the masochist in us needs indulging every now and then. She said she went home after and ate a burger for the first time in a long time. Sucks to be a pretty girl! I personally have never agreed with the concept of beauty pageants and I haven't sat down to watch any beauty pageant since I was about 10, but it makes good blog fodder and inspiration for books such as 'Carrie'.


Miss North Carolina
...Daaaayyum. (are her boobs fake, though?)

The concept of free speech can be pretty confusing. It would seem that these days that by free speech we mean throw out the narrow-minded and ONLY allow the open-minded opinions to flow when technically we should be allowed to say whatever the fuck we want without being condemned. Judging others - it's an inherent flaw in all of us.

Bleach It

April 20, 2009 | Published in , , , , | 2 comments





OK seriously.

A couple of my friends have said "I WILL kill you if you dye your hair blonde". Fair enough. Us Oriental types look like shit with blonde hair, anyway. 

Then I saw this photo and I am now extreeeeeemely curious to see whether blondes really do have more fun.

Even Oriental ones.

But if I end up looking like Xiaxue, I'd rather pull a Britney 2008 than go through life looking like her.

Spazztic London Weather & Pants

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I could never fully comprehend how British people always went on and on about the shitty weather until I came here. Back home it was always "MAN why is it so hot?" or "MAN why is the rain so heavy?!" And then here, it goes "omgomg it's sunny out! We HAVE to go out!" One notices the how heavily the weather influences one's mood. Er, whatsitcalled...oh ya Seasonal Affective Disorder. No wonder Malaysians are so relaksed compared to the Brits and New Yorkers.

Doesn't explain me, though.


Shame my serious drop crotch pants silhouette wasn't captured to its fullest.

Actually, here we are! They're from Bershka, third greatest discovery I've made this term.

Gangsta or not. Tee hee.

Have serious greasy fried chicken craving that needs to be satisfied. Design and glorious chicken here I come.

Healthy Living

April 18, 2009 | Published in , , | 0 comments

This brought on the lulz in between my pleas for help due to lack of ability to process modal logic

What's My Age Again?

April 17, 2009 | Published in , , | 2 comments

I stumbled upon style rookie. Turns out she's a fashion blogger who's only 12. Hurray for adults stuck in children's bodies!

So when I was 12, I used to be called 'mature', 'wise beyond her years' etc. Apparently my English essays were pretty insightful, cogent...at times verbose. (Oh, Oxford thesaurus, how I miss you) I wasn't the type of kid to climb trees or go around playing in the mud. I stayed indoors most days and watched TV and ate my poor dial up connection going online to devour fan fiction. During the summer holidays, I would stay awake until six am writing poorly constructed stories of diaphanous elfin characters and their beautiful stories of life and love in a parallel universe. Now I stay awake until six attempting to memorise equations I know I'll only need for a couple of hours in a few weeks.

I remember playing around in the rain one day after school with a couple of friends. We were soaked through and we stuffed our faces with McDonald's after. I got the scolding of my life from my grandfather when I got home, but it was okay. It felt good; I couldn't stop smiling for days. That's probably the happiest feeling I can glean from my mid secondary school years.

I was a reserved child, one who didn't say much. And when I did, it was probably something sensible and well thought-out. I couldn't ever explain Pythagoras' Theorem though. I still can't. I was permanently pissed off because I never made it to the top maths group. I guess that should've been a telltale sign that I should never have done engineering as a major. No point crying over spilled milk, huh.

Anyway, in 2002 I discovered Linkin Park and Limp Bizkit. Nu-metal rock or whatever that genre was called (does it still exist??). So began my liberation phase. I remember that LP concert distinctly. I was wearing a tank top (first time EVER, I think. Was and always have been afraid to put my disturbingly large arms on display) and some really baggy cargo pants which were ALLL the rage back then. I remember headbanging and acting like a crazy bitch and freaking quite a lot of people out, as I am wont to do these days. It was pretty awesome. The next day, everything went back to the status quo. I was my usual self: I studied, I sat my exams, I scored straight A's lalala. Not that I'm not grateful for it. I'm a lucky girl, I know I am, so put aside your judgmental glasses for awhile kthx.

And then when I came here, I really started to grow younger. I'm rediscovering my lost youth. Painting the town red, blue, green, purple. I never painted towns any damn colour. It's been fun, really. I'm not the same person I was when I left GIS for this country. I'm probably not the same person I was yesterday, or the day before. Humans weren't meant to remain static; we're 66.6% fluid and hence fluid we should be.

But I know I'll always carry that cargo-pants-wearing-all-black-shirted kid with me. She's not that bad. Really.

Polka Dotted Tiger

April 15, 2009 | Published in , | 0 comments

£3.20 dress from eBay; polka dotted blazer from project muffstit

Nothing beats the thrill of opening packages in the morning after routine Combat and Pump classes. I have an unhealthy obsession with polka dots, leopard print and 4 shot Americanos which have been fulfilled in the past couple of days. I am immediately a happier camper after.

new blog name lol

April 13, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments

...because i AM that narcissistic :)

and also because it's a Metallica song that I've been looping. It's about time something changed anyway.

Hole-ier than Thou

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I go through phases in my life where I want/need different things done to myself. Why? For shits and giggles, d'oh. I don't ever want to wake up when I'm fifty five and discreetly Botoxed and look at myself in the mirror and say "Shit, I shoulda, coulda, woulda done x, y and z".

X, y and z hopefully not being people.

Last term, I pierced the rook of my ear (wiki it if you want to know) because I woke up one morning and decided I needed another piercing so I took the 27 to Camden and had it done. The damn thing gets infected off and on, but I don't have any regrets. I also have a large ring threaded through the cartilage of my left ear - my orbital piercing. Was my first not-normal piercing last year. I haven't got as many piercings as Ms Moss, but I think this I-want-pain phase might be kicking in again soon. Hah, as if studying isn't painful enough.

And for kicks:

Doesn't this give new meaning to "batty"? Luvsit.

Roar!

April 12, 2009 | Published in , , | 0 comments

My life these days can pretty much be summed up in the words of James Hetfield:

Seek. And. Destroy.

Okay, maybe not.

I'm just seeking to destroy my bank account by perpetually going on eBay instead of burying my nose in the books. But whatever, I like that song. Been looping it 24/7.

Also have been on frantic search for these shoes. Why, you ask? If you're looking to shut me up, then you can ask me why I want these shoes because I have no answer. I shall just ask you to look at them.


They sort of have an ethereal quality about them, don't they? It screams "WALK ME DOWN THE STREET LIKE A FUCKING SIZE ZERO MODEL". They begged to be worn and loved. Sob.

Mrm. I cannot believe she has it in three colours. Goddamn.

I walked into a 2nd hand bookshop today. It felt oddly familiar yet foreign. I shall post about more substantial issues when I'm not meant to be procrastinating.

"I talk to God but the sky is empty"

What i'd do to have all the free time in the world to bask in the sunshine and read intense novels all day. I should stop listening to music for a while and take in the sounds of the natural world. It's the most fucking depressing thing in the world to have to stay indoors while the sun is shining outside. My wardrobe and camera call to me, but I cannot answer their desperate pleas. Sad, but true.

I know though that in a hazy whirlwind of black coffee, candy and countless purchases of clothing (I had to pay homage to AA and Urban Outfitters this morning) in the next six weeks, this will all be over. Then Paris. Hungary. Project work. Morocco. I'm going home on the 30th of June.

And that's it, London. Sayonara. I'll probably miss you, but I'll be off to the country I've read and seen so much of.

San Diego, California, US of A

- God willing.

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.

死了！

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.

Love MEEEEEE

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.

Now.

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.

Lately.

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 fashiontoast.com 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.

Ahluvvet.

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.

Fever

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.

Dreammaker's Gonna Make You Mad

February 24, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments


I'm breaking my back just to know your name

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus

Run for the hills before they burn

I got soul but I'm not a soldier

It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss

Someone is calling my name, from the back of a restaurant

<3

!!!!

Vintage

February 23, 2009 | Published in , , | 3 comments

Even though Amazon sells books for pretty darn cheap and offers free delivery, I'd still rather buy used books; the total price for used books including shipping totals up to more than buying it straight from Amazon. I adore poring through slightly yellowed paper knowing that somewhere someone else has shared the same emotions that I am about to experience while reading the same novel. I think it binds humanity in an odd sort of way.

I am saddened at how these days tapping away at the computer aimlessly has overridden my interest in reading paperbacks. I am a sad, sad by-product of the 21st century.


One day, when I grow old, I want that exact library that the Beast gave Belle. 
Complete with the swirly staircase and the mile high ladders.

An Unconventional Way to Curb Your Appetite

February 21, 2009 | Published in , , , | 0 comments


Heart Attack Sandwich


Deep Fried Cupcake with Chocolate Sauce and Sprinkles

(Images from thisiswhyyourefat.com)

In essence, this website was made to deter people from eating bad, bad foods. 

HOWEVER. I'm not sure about the effect it has on me because these days I've been teetering on the fine line between eating 4 Hummingbird cupcakes at a go and simply not eating at all. 

I ate a handful of jellybeans today though, just because I cannot walk into Topshop without perusing the sweets section. In any case, I needed glucose to fuel my burnt out calf muscles and hamstrings after having raped and pillaged Oxford St.

Anyhoo, I digress. To be frank, I'm quite curious about how these things taste. Especially that deep fried cupcake. (Must make mental note to go around to a chip shop to order a deep fried Mars bar).  There's something called Deep Fried Coca Cola too, which is basically kway koh dok fried with Coke instead of with bananas or jackfruit topped with powdered sugar. 


Shiok or not?

There is an entire diorama of wildly weird and wonderful food blogs out there, to name but a few:


Eh, Malaysian food can get pretty weird sometimes too (don't even talk to me about tempoyak; it's the ONLY thing I will not eat) - but always in a good way lah. 

Day 2

February 19, 2009 | Published in , , , , | 0 comments

One word: OATMEAL.

Why did I NEVER eat this before? It's good for the heart, lowers your cholesterol, low-fat, low GI and all around awesome (if and only if cooked with the right ingredients)! 

I've never eaten oatmeal (well, GOOD oatmeal anyway) because I've been preconditioned to equate oatmeal to oldies. My grandparents' senior citizen friends - aged 73 - 84 - frequently boast about the goodness of oatmeal and how it keeps their stomachs full the whole day from breakfast time till dinner. Naturally, after hearing them talk, I would bask in the glory of my youth and show off how much fried chicken I'm allowed to have without having a coronary. 

The best part about oats is that, unlike rice, it can be cooked for breakfast, lunch and dinner in a zillion ways. For example (ripped from here)

Boyndie Broth (Oatmeal Soup)

A very economical, velvety and elegant soup which is quickly and easily prepared. The addition of good undyed smoked haddock or smoked salmon makes a good alternative to Cullen Skink.

50g (2oz) Hamlyns Scottish Porridge Oats
1 chopped onion
1 large carrot grated
2 tablespoons butter
550ml (1 pint) chicken stock
550ml (1 pint) milk
Salt and white pepper
Chopped chives or parsley
Cream for finishing (optional)

Melt butter in a large pan over a low heat. Add onions and carrot and cook gently until soft. Add oats to pan and cook for about four minutes, stirring frequently. Add stock and bring to the boil. Simmer for 25 minutes. Add milk and heat through. Season to taste. Add chives or parsley, and a little cream if desired.

The above makes a thick broth - use less oats and more stock if you prefer a thinner soup.

It leaves you feeling like you don't want anymore food, too. Always a plus point :)


Detox Shmetox

February 18, 2009 | Published in , , , | 0 comments

So, my equally spastic friend and I decided to go on this 11 day diet. I was enthusiastic last night, almost scarily motivated. But, as you know, summoning willpower is no easy task. Don't even bother asking why I'm attempting to do this. I think I'm bored.

7.45AM: Wake up, brush teeth, microwave some oats with blueberries. Couldn't finish it due to overwhelmingly gooey texture that reminded me of vomit.

10AM: Falling asleep in class. Head on table-, drifting off to dreamland-type sleep. Only wake up when prof says "If you've been asleep in all my lectures, this is the time to wake up because it's ENTIRELY relevant to your coursework!" Wake up in time for 5 minute break to grab a large Americano.

12PM: Stomach sort of grumbles. Intense Mandarin lesson. 

1.13PM: Can feel acid attacking walls of stomach. Prompt another less insane friend to eat lunch. Grab salad, juice and banana.

1.20PM: "WHAT IS THAT?! JUICE? BANANA? FETA CHEESE ON YOUR SALAD? That's NOT what the diet says! Only nuts and soy milk for lunch!" Run to a corner to eat salad (sans dressing) in secret.

2PM: Start doing MATLAB. Am a little distracted by Ksubi jeans. This spurs me on a bit.

2.47PM: "V__, I'M HUNGRY!"
"SHUT UP. Stop saying that."

2.48PM: Contemplate biting own finger to eschew hunger.

4.01PM: We grab Diet Cokes as they are "ok" according to the diet. This is utter rubbish, as most people would know. Diet Coke has always inherently been abused by people who cannot stomach the guilt of drinking fat Coke or anything sweet, for that matter. Feel like a Mars Bar? Grab a Diet Coke. Stressed much? Reach for another. Most of us girls wilfully ignore the blatant fact that aspartame is 200 times sweeter than actual sugar and drink the carcinogenic fluid anyway.

4.30PM: Feel a bit ill after having chugged down 500ml of Diet Coke so quickly.

5.10PM: Code works! Hurray. Give banana away. Make own way home. Fucking starving.

6.15PM: Spin class. As if not eating proper food the whole day wasn't painful enough.

7PM: Finish spinning. Am not feeling too hungry, actually.

8.22PM: Consume a "bowl of red and green mixed vegetables" with a side of soy milk. Only, I add some lemon and smoked salmon and throw in a piece of pita bread.

9.17PM: Feel a bit insane after having reviewed entire day. Yeah, I have problems.

Flavours of the Moment

February 17, 2009 | Published in , , | 0 comments

- The Veronicas and their newish album, 'Hook Me Up'. 

I feel like being re-born with musical aptitude just so I can play the guitar and sing and jump around like them. Awesomes.

- Want Cheras chicken rice. With the famous chilli sauce and mashed ginger.

But obviously can't get this. 

So, in a complete hundred and eighty turn of willpower, will embark on 11 day detoxing regime starting tomorrow. Goddamned abs and smaller Victorian waist here I come.

China Pwns Malaysia.

February 16, 2009 | Published in , | 0 comments

Ripped from thestar.com.my as 2nd most viewed article of the day.

Sample question (out of a possible hundred) from a driver's license test in China.

If someone’s intestines are protruding from an open abdominal wound, should you:
A. Put them back in place.
B. Do nothing.
C. Cover them with some kind of container and fasten it around the body.

I would've picked A, but apparently the answer is C.

I'm surprised there wasn't a D:

D. Hastily slice away a good portion, stash it in a large black garbage bag so that no one can see what you're doing and then go make pig human intestine soup with pepper.

Kenot Sleep

February 10, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments

Reaaaalllyy cannnottt. 

Fine, it's only 12.55am. That's early for some people. It used to be early also for me back in my heyday. I'm trying to eliminate this whole sleeping late thing from my lifestyle. It makes me crabby. Too crabby.

Just for fun I'll throw in a photo that reminds me of when I first read The Chronicles of Narnia (at age 18, no less) and thought that this is exactly what the gaslight post at the other end of the door should have looked like the second Lucy stumbled through the wardrobe door.



My reason for living

February 07, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments


Don't tell anyone but when it was snowing and when we were building a snowman, I secretly hoped this would happen :(

What Do YOU Want?

| Published in , | 0 comments

Was reading an article. First line that pops up in front of my face was this: "What do women want?"

This Freudian question has never really been answered. Not by men, not by women. Some women want any old man who will be the provider of the White Wedding, a fuck load of diamonds and satisfying coitus (no cunnilingus! Dear me, no, that's just distasteful! Not to mention unhygienic) three times a week. Okay, so let's call that category the Charlottes because I lack originality and I like Sex and the City. I'd say a good lot of us girls fall into this category - secretly. But you know what? A lot of us are ashamed to admit this because women are meant to be independent these days. The Charlottes of this world should probably be more respected than frowned upon by tiger types.

So I guess after that you'd have the Mirandas of the world (I really should be shot through the head for classifying women into four categories, but I have a 3rd year project to be getting on with). Career-driven, power suited up with hair so short sometimes she'd get mistaken for a really dowdy lesbian. She's got the whole indefatigable solid iron wall in front of her emotions going because wearing hearts on sleeves is a crime, especially in the office. She'd never let a man ruin her or her career. She THINKS she knows what she wants, but she's a pretty torn up inside - showcased in the episode where she's torn between aborting Steve's baby or keeping it.

Then we have the Samanthas. Everyone likes to think they have a little bit of Samantha in them...y'know the crazy "try-sexual" and "will-put-sushi-0n-naked-body-for-Valentine's-Day" part. Samantha's pretty clear about what she wants: sex. I admire women who know this and are willing to go forth and make it known to the world, but I don't think I wasn't made like that. However, is it more complicated than that? Who knows. She's goddamned entertaining and makes the episode a lot more bearable. Nobody really cares about her anyway except for her sexual exploits and scathing remarks. Everyone cares about good ol' Carrie Bradshaw.

I don't know how many people would classify themselves as a Carrie, but I'm guessing...quite a lot? I know my whole house hates her guts because she can afford a wardrobe with 40 pairs of Manolos while subsisting on a weekly sex column in a relatively unknown newspaper. Plus, she always does that "I can't help but wonder..." 

God, I love irony. 

Anyway. 

I'd say the Carries of this world are on their own self-searching Nirvana finding path to self-actualization. I guess throughout the series, Carrie always wanted Big and her Big happy ending. Not all of us are so lucky as to have an asshole with a surprise center bumping into us every now and then (I still can't believe he dumped her at the wedding! OKOK it's just a movie) asking us out on expensive dinners and such, so it would be unjust to lump most women into this category. 

Fact is, these days it's not easy to classify what you want, not with movies like these subtly psychologically jolting you into thinking that THIS (Prada bag, big big wedding, 3 published books, DVF wrap dresses) is what you SHOULD want. Sex and the City is quite contradictory because on one hand, it purports female independence through Miranda and Samantha, yet holds on to romantic ideals via Charlotte and Carrie. Perhaps both men and women can't let go of the fact that times are changing/have changed and that you don't have to be in a relationship anymore to be cool or secure, hence this confusing myriad of movies, magazines and songs that speak about female emancipation from the shackles of men (ref: "Independent Women" by Destiny's Child) whilst also talking about "How to Blow Your Man's Mind in 10 Simple Steps" (haha whaddup). 

Well, I suppose life is indeed that complicated and that these four women are simply microcosms of urban life in 2009.  I agree. I think I am a trail mix of these four women. 

Having said all of that, no, I don't know what I want.

I'm just contemplating what I'm going to do in the next five minutes after I finish writing this. Oh ya, 3rd year project.

A Regular Thursday Afternoon

February 05, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments

I pray for a blue sky for you, too.


After Dinner Talk

February 01, 2009 | Published in , | 0 comments

Most times

- I'm pretty damn boring.

- I love heartwrenching guitar riffs and voices with a resonating timbre (kinda like that of the very well defined frontman of Incubus). Except for the fuzzy bearded men of System of a Down.

- You'll find me sitting at the computer - headphones on - reading pointless articles from the NY Times pretending to be intellectual and then suddenly switching to Perezhilton.com. God bless the Internet.

- I hate Katy Perry's songs.

- I love my feet too much to cram them into a pair of pointy toed 5 inch heels everyday. Until, of course, occasions roll around and I whip out my hooker heels. Nobody can refuse a pair of hooker heels.

Sometimes

- It snows. Pretty heavily. Like now. 

- I like Katy Perry's songs.

- I drink beer three days in a row, gamble and scream and shout like a fifty-five-year-old menopausal woman with fire engine red hair who sells you your local chicken rice at the market and then spend the next day listening to terribly constructed songs that lack emotional and or/ear-worthy content but are ineffably catchy. 

- I lose £10

- I win £10

- I want to sleep till the world has shifted such that I am surrounded by everything that I ever wanted to see in "Lord of the Rings". Forever, basically.

新年

January 25, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments


Above: Home-made keropok flown from Sarawak :)

New year, hopefully different shit. Unlike the previous "new years". Nothing beats the scent of freshly fried keropok and a bowl of steaming soup chock full to the brim with sotong, vegetable and meatballs. I was lucky enough this year to stuff my face with steamboat goodies at an aunty's place.



I miss Chinese New Year at home, where ma famille often spends it in the godawfully humid and sometimes acrid-smelling town of Port Dickson. Us children often gambled and played PlayStation 2 into the wee hours of the morning. We then would wake up up to go visit the old folks around town. That would take about an entire day, maybe with a nap in between or something. My sister and I would be saturated with Yeo's packet drinks (I lurrveee their soy bean and winter melon, fyi) and keropok and kacang. Yum, yum. 

Well, this year, however, we decided to make something of ourselves instead of loafing around pointlessly and do something productive. Et voila.




The char siew was a major failure after I realized that I had already started on the wrong foot by buying the wrong cut of meat from Waitrose. Srs fail, btches. If you look closely, you will see that it is almost 99% fat. Yummeh. In my defence, new year, new mistakes. The ma po tofu was fine though, as were the delightfully erratic looking dumplings.

We also managed to spring clean before the clock struck 12. Hurray for not sweeping out good fortune during the New Year! My late greatgrandmother always said it was bad luck to clean during the New Year. That is indeed fifteen days worth of dust that will accumulate on your windowsill - not that that hasn't been accomplished in this flat on a regular basis, though..

Good night.

Film/Book/Music Porn

January 23, 2009 | Published in , , | 0 comments

Spoiler alert.

Watched 'Rachel Getting Married'. Anne Hathaway is winning that Oscar because she looks dead terrible (recall: Charlize Theron, Nicole Kidman and Halle Berry in Monster, The Hours and Monster's Ball respectively). Moreover, the movie is an incredibly low budget indie film that creeps out 3/5 senses. Kym (Anne Hathaway) in black Ray Ban Wayfarers, XXXL forest green hoodie and skinny jeans with blond tiger highlights? Check. The incessant shrill violin coupled with the twang of a badly played guitar to represent the cacophony of said character's mental torture playing in the background? Check. The verdant green and warmth of Kym's childhood home juxtaposed with said character's constant cigarette smoking? Check. The one tight bitchslap across the face every child deserves? Check.
 
Admittedly, the script did not send shivers down my spine. Huh. I thought it would've. 'Brokeback Mountain' with all of Ennis del Mar's incoherent utterings did much more for me than 'Rachel Getting Married'.  But. But because of the lukewarm script, Anne Hathaway really did strut herself as an actress in this show. From playing a geeky bespectacled unwitting princess many moons ago to a fucked up recovering drug addict, I'd say the Academy better give her this one. 

Have rediscovered early 90's post-Nirvana rock 'n' roll in the form of the Stone Temple Pilots. Scott Weiland is the only man alive who can pull off shiny skinny pants. <3

Finished 'The Color Purple' last week after having attempted to read it at the age of 14. Six years later I discover that I can understand conversations with God spoken by a 14-year-old uneducated black woman perfectly. I can even do the Georgian country accent in my head. Kinda like Mammy in 'Gone with the Wind'.

Now am onto other novels which I do not think I will finish until the days become longer and the nights shorter. I hate reading in bed in the dark. It depresses me and puts me in the shoes of those poor bastards in all literary novels. 

I really should just lose a hundred pounds and walk around with black eyeliner on 24/7 just because it's artistic and cool to be thin and emo pensive.

And! 'How I Met Your Mother'! Only one word for it! Legen-waitforitthisisgonnabeawesomeeee-DARRYY.

Care to Cher?

January 02, 2009 | Published in , | 0 comments

I've been listening to plenty of Cher. Her songs are bloody awesome and nobody else can wear fishnet stockings the way she does. She's my new role model. She invented Reinvention waaay before Madonna did. 

I am going to Reinvent myself. My life is going to Reinvent itself. It will and it shall.

2009

December 30, 2008 | Published in , | 0 comments

2008 was by no means altogether shit; it was, in fact, a year of many unexpected surprises. Like a box of chocolates or whatever it is that Forrest Gump says. 

Time for one of those magnanimous messages and objective yearly reviews:

1) I am eternally grateful to those who have tolerated my ability to get angry about anything and everything that moves and doesn't move. It is a horrible habit, I must admit. If I have harmed you verbally or physically this year, I am sorry. If I haven't (yet?)...well, this is a warning. 

Really, to all those who have listened to my incessant bitching, thank you. I will bake more.

2) I am also eternally grateful for the food on my plate, gym membership and Miu Miu handbag.

3) OK fine I will study harder this year since I already do that whole 5-days-a-week-at-the-gym thing that most people aim to do during the start of the year. (Ha ha) 

4) I must really improve my grasp on spoken Mandarin and Cantonese. 

5) Whatever will be, will be. 

万事如意！

How Good Have You Been This Year?

December 15, 2008 | Published in , | 0 comments

Want: new bags, new shoes, new kitchen sink, new coat, new American Apparel dress, new pet rabbit, new belt, new fur-trimmed bolero, new purple giraffe, new sneakers, snazzy Ralph Lauren blazer, Chanel earrings, new laptop, new Internet connection, new loaf tin, new leggings, new eyebrows, new Topshop accessories, new French Soles, new gym shoes, new dinosaur model, new ....me?

Need: Absolutely nothing - except maybe washboard abs and Bundchenian legs.

The true spirit of Christmas is in the giving, kids. Santa knows it when you try to earn brownie points. Heigh ho!

I Don't Sleep

December 10, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments

I'll sing it one last time for you
Then we really have to go
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done

And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know we'll make it anywhere
Away from here

Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear

Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say

To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I nearly do

This song often pervades my dreams.

Of Surprises and Marathons

December 07, 2008 | Published in , , , | 0 comments

Fairly eventful weekend. Am not particularly fond of blogging about what I've done because I don't believe my life is worth going into excessive detail about- but, well, this weekend was slightly different.

Saturday morning - went to Borough Market to eat more food. I have a newfound love for wild boar sausages. I delight in its remarkable crunchy chewiness. So much better than regular pork sausages, to be honest.
May it set your heart aflutter.

I tried out a recipe for eggless brownies this weekend as a present for a friend. I don't know how people survive sans eggs or meat, but I personally couldn't do it; so much so that I baked another Banana Chocolate Walnut cake (with eggs) this evening. Saturday ended with a re-run of X Factor and discovering cute boyband. Bring back the boybands!

And then. And then. That marathon I've been training for. I wake up at 7AM this morning, brush my teeth, put on my contacts, have a hearty oaty breakfast with the requisite mug of coffee (two tsp of Nescafe, one sugar, skimmed milk), put on my running clothes, thought "Goddammit I shall finish that 42km today whether I like it or not", chat to my not-cranky-for-the-first-time-in-the-morning flatmates who are most supportive and head out the door. To my surprise, it is a lovely day. Oh, how could anything go wrong? I will finish running 42km before the sun sets and I can say "Omfg, I just ran a marathon and didn't die."

But.

Here's where I quote that asshole Murphy who came up with this: "If anything can go wrong, it will"

Here's what happened in short:

- A car had hit black ice and taken a tumble, blocking a large part of a very narrow country lane.
- The people couldn't get the car out in time. Window of sunlight gets shorter and shorter.
- They decide they can't continue the race because they don't want people running in dark country lanes.
- Race is cancelled.

(Nobody was hurt, so I have the freedom to bitch as explicitly as possible without hurting anyone's feelings)

What ARE the chances of ALLL that happening on a BRIGHT but cold Sunday morning? Shouldn't a person be in bed all wrapped up and warm? The only people who should be out on a Sunday morning are crazy morons like us who enjoy the pain of running loopy distances in negative temperatures! Everyone else should be sleeping or enjoying a nice Sunday breakfast with the family in the conservatory, munching on buttered toast or sipping on strawberry tea with honey - certainly not driving at high speeds through ice!

Fine, he may have been driving slowly and you can't really see black ice, but I am a bitter underexercised girl.

I can't help but wonder, as Carrie Bradshaw would, perhaps something bad would have happened had I run today.

I should just go out and buy myself a lottery ticket. After everything that has happened today, the chances of winning the lottery are certainly not that much slimmer.

A Sedate but Yummy Wednesday

December 03, 2008 | Published in , , , , , , | 1 comments

One steps foot into the Dorchester expecting nothing less than the sycophantic doorman and an all-too-keen bellboy. Not that I would know; it was all in the imagination from reading novels about dining at the Ritz and watching Bond films. Well, it really is like that in reality. One asks for Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester and is politely shown to a restaurant at the end of the corridor, past The Promenade, The Grill and The Bar. The room is spacious and alight with a soft glow that lulls the senses into a dreamy state. Yet, one can't help but talk about the finer things in life when dining in this place. Call it a lack of exposure on my part - a jakun if you will - but it's true :-)

The pompous maître d' greets us, asks us whether we'd like champagne with lunch. Bubbly in the afternoon? Thanks, but that would be far too decadent, sir. He then brings us a cute bowl of bread and cheese balls, each one dotted carefully with either paprika or black pepper.

These little babies are quite delectable. I am a carb junkie; what can I say?

Thereafter, we are presented with the chef's first delectable delight: the amuse-bouche - literally translated from the French as 'mouth amuser'. The chef knows no bounds with the amuse-bouche, as it is meant to whet the guest's appetite in anticipation of the coming meal. Well, it works! Today's amuse-bouche comes to us in the form of creamed broccoli with black olives garnished sparingly with slices of various raw vegetable. I gush at the taste of black olive combined with the broccoli cream and scoop every last drop pitifully. My bouche is now tres amused.

I have a sinful weakness for all things buttery, like most other gluttons. Note how much of the butter has been unmercifully knifed away (below). I could eat this on its own.


For starters, I order the 'Slightly Sauteed Shrimp'. It is an esoteric palette of tastes. The shrimp, together with some regular broccoli, peppers and finely cut carrot, is sitting on a bed of seemingly solidified (and quite salty) stock. It tickles my curious tastebuds and I am actually quite confused as what to make of it, so I dismiss it as 'fairly forgettable', if not a little overwhelming in texture and saltiness. The solidified salty jelly stuff does not do the shrimp justice.

By this point, the three of us are pleasantly surprised. We have satisfied our Tesco saturated tastebuds! But, oh, what's zis? More food! Ze other snotty French maître d' (hereafter known simply as Pompous) trots along and presents us with our main courses. I picked the 'Roast Veal with Creamy Spinach' because, you know, gym rats like me need my daily hit of protein and fat all at once.

One of us remarked that, yes, it does indeed resemble 'siew yoke'. It even tastes a bit like it, but after five mouthfuls, I am up to my neck in richness. The meat is delightfully plump and tender and when eaten with the correct sliver of fat, it can actually cause shivers of sheer pleasure. What I do not fancy, though, is how much the sauce tastes like it has a lot of Knorr's Beef Stock Concentrate in it i.e. the stuff I use for my gravy. Either the chef had a slip-up or Knorr really know their stuff.

And then comes the most favouritest part of the meal: dessert! After a rich main, I look forward to calming myself down with a tangy dessert. I get exactly that in this wonderful and most awesomest Vacherin served in the most cutest dessert bowl (I gotta get me one of these).


The colours are far more exciting than they look; it really resembles a mini Hawaiian luau. Underneath the mini meringue crusts, mango sorbet and coconut, lime and banana sorbet (which Pompous snidely dismisses as vanilla when I ask him what flavour it is and then comes back apologetically telling me it really is coconut, banana and lime. Tous est, eh, what you call it...c'est stupide??) is a titillatingly zingy passion fruit compote. I adore passion fruit with a zealous passion - no pun intended :) This is, by far, the pièce de résistance of the meal. We are not exactly stuffed, but it's okay. Food makes people happy. Food makes me happy, anyway.

'To the good life that we shall afford next time'.
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