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”.


If I never see your face again/ Live

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.



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.

Postsecret Sunday/ Poems to a horse.

The voice mail

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..

A sweet escape

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)


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”.

Acquired Immunity

(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.

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