The accidental exchange of glance. Not once, but twice.
The unexpected trigger of emotions.
Was my imagination running too wild and high, or was it coincidence?
Are you everything I see, everywhere I turn?
Or was it you?
My mind is gone, I’m spinning round.
I’m losing grip, what’s happening?
Lost. In a case of unknown identity.
I hope I make the right choices.
Define what’s “right”.
What constitues a good weekend?
1) Being able to sleep in till 9.
2) Being able to stay home for the whole day, lazing around in bed.
3) Being able to finally look at Style.com and source some real good videos.
4) Being able to bring Kittie (who bit me again cos he seriously hates my red nails) down for a little walk.
5) Being able to take my nap under my wonderful comforter when it’s raining like crazy (seriously, who needs a man when the comforter feels so good? I still don’t understand, and hope I never will).
And so week 3 of sch came and went so quickly. But I’m thankful for having Ms E for sitting thru the dreadful chem/bio mod. It’s funny how me, an Arts student have to go to the Science faculty for 3 days. More than the time I spend in FASS, which makes me really happy whenever I get to go for lessons in Arts. It’s feels like “phew! Honey! I’m home!” Absense does make my heart grow fonder.
And it’s amazing how Ms E says things that triggers me to sprout nonsense;
Ms E (While eating her noodles in the Science canteen): Where have all the eye-candy gone to?
Me: You have to understand we’re like in a hospital ward for the Diabetic. No candies allowed!
Ms E: If, I ever have a child, I’ll make you the god-mother!
Me: Good! See, I can be a mother, without giving birth, and see the child only when I feel like it. Sounds like a good deal! Okok, get married after 30 ok? I will design your gown for you!
And sidetrack(I apologise for making no links, it’s the weekends, and the last time I checked, my brain still refuses to function coherently), my dad summoned his 3 daughters to his room on Wednesday night. He sounded so serious when he said, “I want to see the 3 of you later. Need to talk.”, that my younger sis couldn’t stop giggling.
And so, he went: Your mummy and I will be celebrating our 25th anniversary soon in Sep. And I want to surprise her..
When I heard that, I thot, maybe I was too fast to think that marriages lack the romantic element after a while..But just as my take on marriage started to soften…
He continued: So what should I do? You all go think, then tell me..
They say it’s the thought that counts. Yes, it has to be….
Because the next day, he said: I know what to get for your mum! A cake!
Me: Daddy, a cake is not romantic. Please!
Daddy: But I’ve bought your mum handbags and she doesn’t use them!
Marriage is hard work..
Sidetrack again!
You so have to watch this.
If I ever get a chance, I’ll do this song, any time, any where.
I love her legs!
The gloomy weather. The not-so nice people around. The piling workload. Makes me one irritated girl. Don’t ever come too near me, I’ll bite your head off.
So what do I do when I’m feeling like crap? Source out good food.
We went to Hooters (we’ll never wanna dine there under normal circumstances). The prices of their food is pretty reasonable, and as expected, the quality was mediocre. Not surprising right? Since they’re better known for their waitresses. But I think they can do with better outfits.
Then we walked around Liang Court, trying to get some good Japanese desserts. Strangely, we stumbled upon a Italian Bistro of sorts. We were ogling at the deserts when the chef came over to teach us about the different typ[es of hams, and cheese available, afterwhich, he kindly invited us in, and asked us to stay for coffee.
Display of Italian food. Love the bottle of the Balsamic vinegar here.
He said, “Have the not so strong one if you wanna sleep tonight.” So we asked for the not-so potent coffee.
And the molten choc cake, on the house. Orgasmic! My my! We were kinda lost for words for the few seconds.
He then went off to prepare his lunch–pizza with cheese and tomato puree. He generously let us try some of his lunch. And I have to say he’s all about ambience–when he was about to have lunch, he changed the music from some random radio station to his fave tunes.
See how thin the crust is.
I’ll defnitely go back there! This moroccan chef (from the city of Casablanca! reminds me of the movie) is one cool dude who specialises in Mediterranean cuisine.
3 weeks ago, a very special friend and I headed to Curduroy cafe at vivo.
The apple pie la mode.
Tiramisu.
And I love this picture. I think it’s uber Sexy.
We consume people, like how we consume food.
Psst. I think I have Obsessive Complusive Disorder man. Ok, and the food didn’t really work its magic either. To cheer me up, find me that perfect pair of shoes.
My voicemail went…”Hey, this is Jaslin. I’m busy looking for the perfect pair of shoes. So leave a msg and I’ll call you back!”
Then my younger sister said, “So bimbotic!”
I would like to think that my dad is more bimbotic than me. Over dinner, he said, “I can’t stop thinking about the pair of Christian Louboutins. I’ve never seen such a perfect pair of shoes..And together with that clutch..what a match!”
I told you it runs in our blood. And little wonder I raid his wardrobe for his shirts. Ladies, make sure you’re staying with a man who appreciates clothes, shoes, watches and colongue(somehow, I find it very sexy when a lady wears colongue. I think it’s a refreshing change–never fails to intrigue me), then you’ll have a very versatile wardobe(doesn’t help when I’ve a five-day week and am perpetually wondering what to wear)..
It helps when you’ve a less forgetful dad tho…
I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my blue man’s shirt with a belt, shorts and stockings(I’ve to confess I’m obsessed with them), ready for school..
Mummy: Can you wear something simpler to school?
(Daddy comes over)
Daddy: That shirt looks familiar..
Me: Yea, it’s your shirt which became too tight for you..so it’s mine now!
Daddy: No wonder it looks familiar..I’ve got good taste right? Look at the blue..wow..
With the perfect weather to sleep in, it wasn’t surprising that we, the 3 volunteers were late.
“You’re going to do Flag day in heels?” was the first thing Fe said to me.
Old habits die hard.
Asking people to donate is an art, and we do it without opening our mouths.
Step one: Smile at the approaching crowd.
Step two: Look out for those who smile back.
Step three: Try to get them look at the tin on your hand.
Step four: Some pretend they can’t see you anymore, while a handful will come up to you and gladly put some coins into the tin.
My first Flag Day and it’s heartening to have people who are willing to come up to you to donate. (Esp that guy who spent close to a min trying to dig out all his coins)
______________________________________________
Checklist:
Sideburns–check
Good voice–check
Plays the piano and guitar–check
Has this perpetual serious and sad face–check
Sense of humour (“we couldn’t afford the cardboard box”)–check
Send me this man for Christmas. So that we can sit by the piano and sing the night away.
Presenting Mr Alejandro Manzano, doing the cover version of “No Air”.
(credits to paulscha)
In the microbes class this week, we learnt about acquired immunity. That got me thinking about the acquired immunity in life, not just against viruses, but people. It seems, as we meet more people, the higher the tendency of getting hurt, betrayed. And in turn, we tend to build our fences up progressively higher.
Maybe that’s why the older we get, the more we realise that more friends doesn’t make us happier. The more you talk, the more they know. The more vulnerable we get.
Would you rather miss him, or miss out on him?
Sometimes, the people around me ask the simplest question which triggers the most complex thoughts and evolves the deepest emotions.
Sometimes, I wonder if I build my fences too high, that I might regret what I’m missing out on?
Then I thought, if we’re going to gain acquired immunity against all forms of diseases and viruses, then would we miss the moments of recovery? Like the sweet/chocoloate given after being coaxed to eat our medication? To have the people around you ask after you? To sleep and hibernate for as long as you deem fit?
But, what if you never recover?
I doubt I know what I should and would do when the time calls for a letting down of my fences, but if I am going to spend my life thinking if it’s worth letting my guards down, then am I not getting the priorities of life right?
Desserts, anyone? I’m facing a creeping withdrawal symptom. No wonder I’m sprouting nonsense here at close to 2 in the morning.
Psst. It has been 2 weeks, and I’ve finally recieved my Juicy Couture laptop bag from Nordstrom. Disclaimer: Juicy Couture ain’t my kinda thing, normally.
“Well, even a garden grows stranglers, love. It grows them naturally, all by itself. They creep up and choke the plants that are growing from the very same soil as they are. We each have out demons, our self-destruct button. Even in gardens. Pretty as they may be. If you don’t potter, you don’t notice them.” –Thanks for the memories, Cecilia Ahern.
———————————————————————————
As girls always talk about their men(whether officially, unofficially, or of their fantasies), I see how we sometimes forget that we truly deserve better. Not that I think we all should be thinking so highly of ourselves but… if we have to compromise ourselves, our beliefs, our values to make him happy, then we’re no longer complete as a single entity. Maybe sometimes, we need the little gentle reminders to remind ourselves that we’re whole, happy being alone(in the romantic love sense).
Over the phone, she went, “He tried to imply that I’m high maintenance, and he said that you are high maintenance…He saw your nails and heels that day”
And by “you”, is yours truly. And wow, I never knew I had expensive-looking nails. The last time I checked (this minute as I’m typing), they’ve got leopard prints and crystals. And, I did them myself.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to convince anyone out there that I am not “high maintenance”(whatever that truly entails). In fact, I don’t see why I should be apologetic about it. Sometimes, I get suggestions (if I may call them that) from very guys about how I should dress down to be less intimidating (again, what? and then look like I’m going to the wet market?), how I shouldn’t be wearing heels (that was a classic, from my sis’s Med friend. So I told him, “I only live once and I don’t think I can strut in these when I’m 60, so seize the moment!”)..
Ok ok, maybe I’m getting a tad too defensive, as usual. And if you haven’t noticed, I’m steering dangerously away from what I want to say.
I believe, in life, we will meet all sorts of people who tries to impose their personal beliefs on to you. And that’s often true when we get into romantic relationships. Some would think that’s the kinda compromise that we would have go thru. Really? When does compromise become too much? When do we start losing ourselves? When does compromise for love become destructive?
So come on girls, strut in your Christain Louboutins, with your Hermes Birkin. If he is going to judge you solely on your material possessions, then I think you deserve so much more. Don’t make excuses for him.
Sidetrack to classic punchlines: Don’t look at me like I’m going to eat your man. I’d rather eat Creme Brulee.
…Walk on by…
I promise never to acknowledge your presence.
Never again.
Psst. Apologise for the grossly short entries these days.
First day back at school. Lots of sights and scenes to absorb.
Familiar, unfamiliar. Forgotten, reminded.
It’s good to be back at school.
I was hardly excited that it was National Day yesterday.
Not that I don’t love Singapore-I’m grateful I am a Singaporean. I love (and sometimes, guilty as charged, hate) the way things work here.
But I figured, I don’t have to wear red/white, stay tune to the parade, sing the songs, watch the fireworks, to love Singapore.
Cos I have been loving this place, and I don’t need a day set aside every year for me to show my love.
It’s the same for Valentine’s day. I don’t need that special day for you to ask me out on a special date, give me flowers, serenade me with love songs.
What’s more important is the normal days..the days where there’re no expectations of anything.
The special days are to remind those who forget about how they should feel.
We don’t need the reminder, do we?
I’m sure we all can do better than that.
Just like I’ve learnt not to have expectations, so that I can be suprised from time to time. No, I think I’m still learning…
I’m getting butterflies in my stomach–something horribly normal whenever I start school.
Psst. I set my eyes on this pretty Swarovski Frilly cardholder. I’ll get one, 2 years later, if it still takes my breath away.
Just when I thought I needed to do some serious damage control,
Just when I feel like I’m not doing anything right,
Huey said,
” A brick wall is there for a reason. They give us a chance to show how badly we want something.”
I really needed that.
The euphoria is over. I’m back on Earth with a regular heartbeat. Thinking with my brain. You can’t have me acting like an idiot rambling about an eyecandy for too long. For too much candy is bad. Plus, I prefer chocolate. So…
As such, let’s get down to business. And when I mean business, I mean school, and fashion shows.
My brain hasn’t recovered from the panic attack, euphoria, embarassment(and so the list continues..), so, point form!
1) Phew, I’m finally done with CORS this sem–good news is, I got what I wanted. Bad news is, I’ve got a 5-day week. I’m sure I’ll miss NUS when I’m over in Loughborough, but 5 days, is little too much. So far, I still haven’t really accepted the fact that sch is starting next week. It feels like the 3 months flew by me on a G5. And I’m scared, of doing 2 science GEMS, 2 chinese mods and only 1 Geog mod. Only 1!
2) Went back to school today for the mentorship prog briefing. And since I was in purple, I was given the printouts in purple! The lady from the Dean’s office handed me a pink copy then, took it back and said, “No, purple for you!”.
3) I feel like flushing my face down the toilet bowl (and cry), don’t ask me why. But I hope never to have an eyecandy anymore. I’m too old for any heart-racing experience. And I don’t want to die of a heart attack. I won’t be surprise if people think of me as an idiot with a major crush. Yes, I was. Read: past tense.
4) Was looking thru fashion shows–The Ready to Wear Fall 2008 collection. Credits to Style.com
Roberto Cavalli
On the runway of Hermes,
Ralph Lauren. One of my fave collection. Very Manhattan
Chanel. As usual, timeless.
Bottega Veneta
YSL–army of futuristic female automata, marching out in identical black-bowl wigs and black lipstick, some with their eyes blanked out by narrow slivers of wraparound sunglasses. Very futuristic designs.
Fall is sexy! I have to work on my description of clothes, so I’ll stop here.
Looking at these on style.com is hard work! They’ve a long list, and I’ve only viewed a few.
I think by the time I’m done with the long list, it’s time for Summer. No?
Psst. My knee hurts. That happens when I’m stressed. Tell me what do I have to get stressed over? School hasn’t even started.
Tonight I found a secret that said, “It will work if you try. Will you wait for me?”
I think this is Rihanna’s freakiest video. But I like it, it’s scary, sexy, and it makes me jog faster.
Am I scaring you tonight?
 | MYS on Some 1000 Awesome things |
| MYS on Mind over body |
 | papersky on Supermassive black hole |
| papersky on 11.02 |
 | shujun on Late late night musings. |
