Take a Deetour

"I write to find out what I think." - Joan Didion

Friday, January 27, 2006

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang


Will someone help me out of this conundrum already?!

What's with the sweetie-darling-muah-muah air-kiss thing? I don't ever get it right. Is it once on the cheek? Twice on both cheeks? Right cheek or left first? Three times allegedly like the French?

Obviously my kissing karma is not up to scratch because there's always that awkward moment when the person you greet only wants to kiss you once, but you lunge for their other cheek, bump faces and there's that awful, awkward moment. Or you pull away but they want to kiss your other cheek.

It all seems a tad trite and pretentious, but hey, so is life here in general. Why can't people leave off the European affectations and just give each other vigorous hand-shakes or hearty slaps on the back?

But OK, back to this air-kiss epidemic - I've tried committing to it, even if they pull away after the first muah, grab them and finish what you started - never hesitate, plough through the awkward should-I-should-I-not moment! But then again, I'm so not that kind of girl. I'm the kind of girl who wonders what kind of oily facial secretions are going to end up on my face. I'm the kind of girl who hates PDAs with strangers, or worse, people I don't like.

But then again, I don't ever get it right with friends either. It's neurotic, I agree, but I've tried keeping track of which friend air kisses in what way:

A. starts with right cheek and only once.
B. likes it wet and juicy on both cheeks.
C. pecks you on the lips (Arrggh!!! Another bloody spanner in the works!)
D. grabs your head and smacks you four times.
E. doesn't like being touched (I like your style, E!)

WHO ON EARTH KEEPS TRACK OF STUFF LIKE THIS?!
Oh, yes. Me. In any case this little experiment failed. Because none of my friends are constant with their labial affections (or is it infections?).

One day, they kiss me once, the next it's twice, then next time, they chock me with the old peck-on-the-lips routine. Why can't everyone just settle on one way and be done with it? Am feeling like the only geek who doesn't synch with anyone else. Is it too much to ask for an air-kiss SOP? It'd make social situations so much easier.

It could look like this:

Chapter One
1. Air-kisses are permitted only between consenting parties.
2. ALWAYS begin with the other person's right cheek.
3. Each air-kiss may only be performed for a maximum of 2 seconds.
4. Limit air-kisses to 2 per person, unless you are French, in which case please ensure that tongue remains stowed securely in mouth.

Although if it was up to me, I'd add these:
5. Do not air-kiss unless initiated by Ms. D.
6. Good-looking male specimens, however, may initiate anytime & in anyway they like.
7. Before engaging in air-kissing, a thorough face (no sweat, grease or acne, please) & breath (minty is the way to go) check is mandatory.

Glad to know other people have pondered this wondrous pratice of germ-mingling: lost in translation & savvy traveller.

Oh, and in honour of today's post-title, and in my best Shirley Bassey voice, PRRRRRESENTINNNNNG THE PRRRREMIERRRRR JAMES BONNNNND WEBSITE!!!


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Thursday, January 26, 2006

I had Fun, but I Lost a Rhinestone Off My Shoe

Seen:

Dieting for loose women.

Heard:
"I can't believe Mariah wasn't at the top of the worst-dressed list!

"That's 'cos she was hardly dressed!"


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Saturday, January 21, 2006

What It Is




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Friday, January 20, 2006

The Deetourguide to Bowling


For a gratifying game (assuming your goal is to actually hit something besides your fellow human beings):

1. Stand and aim from the next lane over.
2. Throw ball at the at the centre arrow-shaped lane marking (at no time should there be a graceful swing & release motion).
3. Listen for ensuing thud.
4. Watch ball hurtle toward pins.
5. See (some) pins fall.
6. Allow teammates to make encouraging comments like, "You was robbed, man!"
7. Make Drop it Like It's Hot your official team motto.
8. Always have nifty dance moves handy (if the All Blacks have their Haka, so can you!) - essential for limb-loosening & morale boosting.
9. Adopt said dance moves as occasional shock and awe tactics over rival team. Include shrieks of, "You're allergic to testicles!" for extra incredible results.
10. Beer optional, but recommended.


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Thursday, January 19, 2006

Pfffffffffft

I'm so glad to be working with S. again, my constant, my twin, my mirror image and yet, also my total 损友 - friend who's bad for you.
Case in point, our msn conversation tonight.

S: OK, that's it, I'm having a beer.

Me: Arrggh, don't tempt me.

S: Come on, you know you want to...

Me: Stoppit! You know I can't.

S: Yes, you can... Come on, the beer is calling your name... Sssssssss.

Me: Don't lah, you know my cellar is just a few steps away.

S: Come on! It's calling out to you, drink me... Sssssssss...

Me: Ssssssss?! Is that a beer or a snake?

S: Sssssss... It's the sound of a beer can being opened.

Me: Sssssss?! That's a beer can?! I thought they went Pfffffft.

S: I dunno what kind of beer you drink, but mine goes Sssssss! I drink Tiger.

Me (going for the obvious): In that case, shouldn't it be going Rawwwrr?


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Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Gwa Mah See Leow Gai...*


The February column finally done, rehearsals underway and the New Zealand trip extremely probable, I'm a happy bunny.

So this month, I shall continue to enjoy:

  • The! Great! Lynda! Barry! @ Marlys Magazine: starring Ernie Pook's Comeek.

  • Pretending to not eat carbs.

  • Getting in touch with my inner Ah Lian.

  • Memorising * Hokkien songs and singing them with a totally straight face (a one, and a two, and a three, to the obiang cha cha beat... Gwa Mah See Leow Gai, I also understand... Doo doo doo doo doo...

  • Dancing with Chinese fans.
    This kind:
    Not:

  • Reading, Reading, Reading!

  • Sewing, Sewing, Sewing!

  • Making, liberal, use, of, PUNCTUATION!!!?????!!!!!



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    Thursday, January 12, 2006

    I May Not Know Much, But This Much I Know


    I wear beautiful shoes that hurt my toes and rub my heels until bubbles appear on my skin.
    Raw, painful bubbles appear.
    Then I unbuckle my high-heels and poke at the extra puffs of skin.
    Welts and bubbles pucker as I peel away until the exquisite pain bites into my conscience, protesting until I become acutely aware.
    A raw, gaping hole remains to remind me of who I am, to remind me of my humanity.
    I alternately pick and wince at it, to indulge my masochistic leanings.
    I also pick at the delicate, sensitive skin on my lips. Peeling strips off, watching them as they dry, purple-brown, dry curls of dermis, enjoying the sharp streak of ouch as each curl departs from its origin.
    Does your tongue hurt sometimes? Do the little dots of buds swell and scream?
    Mine do.
    Then I, like a biased teacher, single out each little bud of weakness and tweak it, prod it and scratch it with the nail of my index finger.
    I soak up the blood with a pristine tissue, examining the crimson imprints - a beautiful, terrible pattern of myself.


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    Wednesday, January 11, 2006

    Doesn't Everybody Love a Controversy?

    I loved the book. And the only reaction I can muster, so far is, I don't give a rat's ass. It stands as is, ok?

    The book still resonates, whether it's a piece of fiction or not.

    The Controversy

    The Allegations

    The Retort

    Just so you know.


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    Saturday, January 07, 2006

    Smells like Play Doh & Strawberry Shortcake

    Awww... I'm all nostalgic now. You had one of these too, didn't you? I LOOOVED my Speak & Spell when I was 6.
    I musta spent hours twiddling with my Texas Instrument - wait that sounds SO wrong.
    I musta spent hours playing with, uh, it.
    But if you're from this neck of the woods (i.e. a Commonwealth, Post-colonial Anglopet), then you'd understand why I spent many of those hours frustrated with the little man I thought was trapped in the orange box.
    You try spelling neighbour or colour with the Speak & Spell! I still have "That is incorrect, the correct spelling of colour is C-O-L-O-R." ringing in my ears. O, the childhood trauma! Somebody hand the lil' bugger an Oxford English Dictionary, already.
    You have a go. Much fun!
    Play with the Speak & Spell Emulator now!

    This is of totally no coincidence, of course:
    What childhood toy from the 80s are you?
    brought to you by Quizilla
    speak and spell
    You're a Speak & Spell!! You nerd, you. Just
    because you were disguised as a toy doesn't
    mean you weren't educational, you sneaky
    bastard.


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    Friday, January 06, 2006

    Cold Creativity

    After having my overnight bag along with all my favourite things knicked on New Year's Day, a fine cherry to top off my auspicious start to 2006 must be the lousy cold I've been tolerating all week.

    My ears are blocked, my nose is blocked and wait - my right ear is squeaking. SQUEAKING! IT IS!!! Should I feed it some cheese or something? Must be all the pressure building up in there. Now if my eyeballs explode from it, that would truly be a spectacular start to the new year!

    But I digress. I'm here again to lay down proof of my supreme narcissism and inexplicable obsession with documentation for posterity (actually, sod the future generations, I want to come back here 20 years from now and laugh at myself. Assuming 20 years from now blogs and the internet still exist. Maybe by then all humanity will communicate telepathically through micro chips implanted in their foreheads. Who knows?!).

    ANYWAY. Am still feeling extremely gulty for being a lousy, ingrate of a daughter to lovely parents who are probably now wondering who this changeling living in their house is. I'll admit it. Instead of smiling sweetly and thanking the parental units, I kicked up a big stink about not getting the exact iPod Nano I wanted for Christmas.

    Want: Black, 4GB.
    Got: White, 2GB.

    My cheeks burn thinking how immature I can be. My 3 year old niece probably has more sense than me. OK, no, she's a demanding little wenchlet, but STILL.

    So after a week of ignoring the offending present sitting on my dresser, I finally opened it up on Monday, thanked mom and dad and started syncing it with itunes on my mac. I shall reserve judgements on my brand-new piece of white plastic for now.

    You may be wondering where this is all going. I dunno. The mucus is eating away my brain. Wait. Focus. Er... Yes! So in my bid to make amends (though I'm not sure how it does), I decided to make something beautiful out of the whole ugly mess I created.

    Ladies & Gents, when in doubt, SEW!

    I made a pretty case to encapsulate the object of my guilt. As if this concoction of felt and thread can make it all go away. The state of suspended reality I live in.

    How incredibly girly of me, but here it is:


    *inside*


    *front*


    *back*

    And now someone wants me to make more to sell! Should I? I shall leave decision-making till the mucus has subsided.


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    Thursday, January 05, 2006

    Your Wobbly Bits Will Thank Me...


    Uh-huh-huh... Thank you, thank you very much...

    ... actually, they'll thank Miss S. who sent some post-seasonal-binge cheer by way of this article from Oz paper, The Age.

    In a nutshell, scientists in Bristol, England have discovered that fat people are happier than skinny ones.

    Love the closer:
    "If there really is a direct correlation between body mass index and mental health, when, exactly, are we going to start charging skinny people for their own Prozac? Huh?"

    Then reality sinks in... I'm beginning to think I may need some of that Prozac! Am ashamed to admit am full of self-loathing over enormous weight-gain.

    I submit Exhibit A (snapped during vigorous New Year's Eve Charades) as incriminating evidence:


    caution: wide girth and dangerous overhang

    Where's the fat-induced happiness the article talks about? Or maybe fatties SEEM cheerful to overcompensate for what they really feel inside (awww... group hug, please).

    Or maybe Day #1 of my self-imposed carb-free South Beach Diet (I know, I'm a traitor to the fat-is-fabulous cause) has garbled not only my brain, but my insides too. Feel the need to hold-up the Macky D'S drive-thru RIGHT NOW!!


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    Monday, January 02, 2006

    Year-end Round-up

    What goes around come around, eh? I've been robbed, so I'm gonna do the same - sorry, JG! In honour of JG's birthday excesses, a smashing New Year's Eve and a not-so-smashing New Year, here's my version:

    JG's Birthday (Part 1 aka Puke Fest Redrink) 28.12.2005 Wed
    With: Friends who love a tipple
    Where: P's place
    Ate Drank: Cosmos, chocolate martinis, A LOT of Heineken chased with K's supreme take on Angel's Kisses (he used Frangelico, Kahlua and Rum or something - YUM!), 1 Flaming Jedi (Sambucca, Chartreuse, Tobasco - lit, downed then inhaled).
    Got Gave: An ownself-decorated Edward Monkton Beautiful Frock card to the birthday girl.
    Saw: All the non-smokers fall asleep one-by-one, leaving only me awake, whilst the cancer-stickers went outside for a marathon puff.
    Best: Those YUMMMAAY beer chasers.
    Worst: Singing O Holy Night and Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered acapella to the rowdy tipplers and hearing my voice crackle and rasp.

    JG's Birthday (Part 2) 30.12.2005 Fri
    With: As above
    Where: Loof bar & Zouk
    Ate Drank: 3 Beers (recovering from Wed's spontaneous soiree)
    Got Gave: Items 2 & 3 from JG's Christmas wishlist, a lethal drink bought for JG by the water polo team.
    Saw: A topless guy barfing his guts out in the VIP area - how glamorous!
    Best: Celebrating with JG at a bar I'd never been to and taking silly shadow pictures (see left).
    Worst: Having to leave early because of work next morning.





    New Year 31.12.2005/ 01.01.2006 Sat/ Sun
    With: Ditto
    Where: Tea party with JC friends at home & Suite at The Oriental later that night
    Got: Earrings from K who just got back from Sydney AND lucky at Charades (my team won both rounds).
    Ate: Everything and anything I wanted. At tea party, snarfed 5 tuna-potato croquettes, homemade lemon pound cake, cookies, chocs and copious amounts of tea. Later, shared room service - 2 lots of fries, a huge, fully loaded burger (bacon, cheese, fried egg, mushrooms), Mulligatawny soup, clam chowder, bacon-wrapped cod, beef kofta. Countless chocolates. Next day - Enormous Portobello mushroom burger from Carl's, 2 lots of fried zucchini and chicken strips. And an iced Hazelnut latte from Starbucks.
    Drank: Kahlua lime, Choc martini, K's super duper Colorado Bulldogs, more Lady Grey Tea.
    Saw: Mean Girls on DVD at 4 in the morning.
    Best: Fireworks light up the midnight sky (we made the elevator ride down 14 floors - along with the rest of the hotel's guests - to watch from the hotel driveway) and playing 2 rounds of California Kings, the card/drinking game K taught us.
    Worst: (Sob!) Stupidly leaving my overnight bag on my car bonnet after checking out, forgetting it was there, going off to catch King Kong and then realising the bag had been knicked only when I was almost home. Lost my favourite warehouse sequined capelet, my entire Samsonite toiletries case and makeup bag. Plus my favouritest pajamas! Fie on the horrid thief - I hope my stinky undies were a nice surprise. Bah. Did I mention the nasty cold I woke up with the morning after? Double Bah.


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