House Rules for Crawlies

Ms Big Thumber Crusher have kindly agreed to let you crawlies stay on the premise. Ms Crusher respects any form of life and believes in peace and harmony. While she fears karmic repercussions, you should not try to test her limits. Here are some house rules that you should strictly adhere to, failing which, your lives may be at stake.

- Never try to attack Ms Crusher
Little red ants, you have been warned! You're not to give stinging bites to Ms Crusher that will send her writhing with anger. In fact, you should just disappear from sight. If not, Ms Crusher will finish you off with one fatal blow. She will not care if she will be born a red ant her next life. No due explanations will suffice. That Ms Crusher smells like a piece of fruit cake to you is no valid reason.

- No sportsmen allowed
Mr High Jump Olympiad Lizzy seemed to have a penchant for jumping high out from cups, delivering bouts of frantic shock to Ms Crusher. That Ms Crusher invaded your space is abominable explanation because the cup is Ms Crusher's drinking cup. While there might be nothing Ms Crusher could do in that split second in which she was recovering from shock, Mr High Jump Olympiad Lizzy is advised that it is never wise to scare a woman because her kind knows no depth when it comes to vengeful thoughts. Yesterday, Mr High Jump Olympiad Lizzy's compatriot, and possibly admirer, Mr Flabby Lizzy upped the ante by trying to perform the act in the dark. Ms Crusher switched from her midnite sleepy mode to hyper awake mode upon being at the receiving end of his rite of passage. Be warned again. Do not test her limits. The third lizzy to try the clandestine act will be cursed forever.

- No sharing of common toilet
Ms Crusher does not appreciate an audience when she's bathing. The Mothy family should take note of that. Your fleeter flattering around the toilet keeps her on tenterhooks and she cannot enjoy her bathroom singing because of that. Your mere presence in an enclosed area gives her goose pimples. Mr Mothy, you are responsible in ensuring that no such occurrence happen again. Take special care to keep Baby Teeny Weeny Mothy out of sight.

- No internal flights allowed
The Croachy family has been banned from flying. Anyone from Crawlie kingdom who sees the family resorting to illegal aviation means is strongly encouraged to report their misdeed. The Croachy family will be smacked on sight should you attempt to fly. Mr Elderly Crusher will see to that. That you have been around for millions of years does not give you the prerogative to throw your weight around. Your loud buzzy wings really is more noise pollution than you would admit.

A toast to Ms Yukie

Yukie is a quarter of a century old today. It's her first birthday as Mrs Chua. I wonder how she will be celebrating it today. Heehee, probably will have to read her blog to find out. HAPPI BDAY, MRS CHUA!! Somehow, it feels as though you've been away for a long, long time. But it's only been two months. Aye. Guess which Jacky Cheung song i would sing when i see you next time?

Hunt for Elusive Cheese Cake

Was with Fang eating dinner at Sushi Tei, Holland Village. We were keeping our stomachs half-filled so we could satisfy our sweet tooth with cheese cakes from Secret Recipe. Secret Recipe's having one-for-one for its cakes till end of Oct and the promise of eating something so delectable at half the price makes the thought of savouring it even sweeter.

The only problem we had: where the hell's Holland Grove? That's the place where the prized possessions would be. We combed the entire Holland Village and the closest of our ventures was to another pastry shop called Sweet Secret. (How original! Aiy...)

Asked the waiters and waitresses from English Rose Cafe, Eski Bar (yes, new joint, barely a week old), Al Dente where Holland Grove might be. That's not counting the times we stopped passers-by in their strides. Yes, at the risk of sounding dumb and getting hollered at for wanting to find the elusive Secret Recipe.
(Break-time: Ah-hem..normally i won't do such foolish things, unless someone eggs me on. But yesterday, i was really in an unusually curious mode to find out where that place might be. )
Finally, we asked security guards at a shopping centre. "Oh, it's down at Jelita. Not here. Take bus 61. It's four stops away."

Great! We managed to nail the location. "Scarly we alighted one bus-stop early and by the time we walked there, it'll be closed," i said jokingly to Fang.

Bus 61 came a minute after we stepped into the bus-stop. "Wow, that must be our lucky day!" I thought aloud. Alighted the bus five minutes later at Jelita. Cold Storage, blah, blah, blah. We scanned the list of shops around. No Secret Recipe in sight! Sobs. Tried asking another passer-by before stepping into a confectionary store to ask the waitress. "Oh, Holland Grove? It's one stop away. Secret Recipe? Yes, yes. It's there!"

Ok. Half my words came true. We alighted one bus-stop early. I sometimes really have the knack when it comes to saying bad things to make them come true. I hope this won't be one of those occasions.

The road was dark. We turned into Holland Grove where all the private housing was. Hmmm...what an unlikely candidate for a pastry shop to be located. Three minutes later, a blurry signboard in red came into sight. "Secret Recipe". Yippee! So we finally did manage to find the place!

The place was enscounced in a row of shop-houses. Above them were residential apartments that screamed medieval times. Rather unique i thought and i might like living there. Heehee.
Time check: 8:35pm. Closing time for the place was 9pm. Phew! We made it. Decided to buy some cakes home since it's one-for-one.

"Those will be for take-aways. We'll dine-in for the oreo and raspberry cheesecakes." "Sorry, but we'll be closing soon. So there won't be any more dine-ins." "Oh, really? Really no more dine-ins? Really?" We asked with wide-eyed pleas.

Mission failed. Proceeded to pay for the cakes. Sobs. My smile ended up a pile of mud. "Do you want to dine in?" The cashier and supposed supervisor/ boss asked. Imagine how our eyes lit up hearing those words. "Yes, please!"

Two flying saucers came our way shortly after we placed our orders. The utensils and serviettes came flying after. The oreo cheese-cake that Fang ordered was in really bad shape. My raspberry cheese-cake looks pretty fine though. Hmmm. I think we incurred the wrath of the waiters there for dining in. Shucks. The waiter's face was long and black.

Under the prying eyes of the vultures, we started to eat our cheesecakes. Not a good idea. I wasn't enjoying it at all. One, the service was really bad. Two, we're trying to beat the 9 o'clock hour. Three, I felt bad that we might possibly cause the waiters to stay beyond their working hours on a beautiful sat evening.

Argh. What the hell! We searched high and low for this place and this was what happened! Darn! Nevermind. At least now we know where the place is.

"Hey, hey. Why are the swings swinging when nobody's around?" I asked Fang to divert our attention away from our rather unfulfilled tastebuds and she cast me a dirty look. Oops. Ha. Somehow, I think i've grown out of that "supernatural phase" and making a fun out of it was, well, fun. Eh, just don't ask me to watch horror movie. Not that I'm scared. I've got a weak heart. Also, I'll be re-enacting the horror scenes in my dreams, but the more horried versions. (Yes, I've got the knack for conjuring nightmares too. Don't know why.) So no thanks, still.

Cling, Clang, Clung

Who in the right mind would wake up deliberately early in the morning just to pitch a tent before school started?
Nobody but me. Yes, I had the wrong frame of mind. Or rather, there were eight to ten of us with the wrong frames of mind.
The year was 1995. We, the NPCC girls, were preparing for the National Camp-craft competition. Our target was to pitch a six-man tent and erect a flagpole within eight(?) minutes.
The day was inching near and we were pitching tents as though it was our calling in life. We practiced after school. Early in the morning. Probably in dreamland too.
We thrived on one another’s company, but it’ll be a total fallacy to think we were there to enjoy life.
The training was tough. While basking in the sun was certainly my cup of tea, the blistering afternoon rays were not to be trifled with. (Think heat-stroke kind of hot.) Papa, Mama and Little Miss Blue-Blacks decided to be temporary fixtures for that period. Our blisters made five-cent coins pale in comparison. And some days were bloody.
But could it be otherwise? It’s metal pegs that we were nailing to the rock-hard soil. And they were basking in the sun too, making pegging one hot affair. Don’t pray pray.
We’d jump in joy whenever we broke our fastest timing. I think the fastest we managed was seven minutes plus.
Aiy, despite our hard work, we did not manage to clinch a spot in the ten top. We heard we came in eleventh or twelfth. Yes, we missed the finals by a hairline. Imagine our disappointment.
Nonetheless, I totally relished the experience. Our breaks in-between practices were littered with soccer moments, playing-in-the-rain frenzy, running around, fighting to see who could shout the loudest commands. Yeah, we were a crazy bunch.
Gers, let’s meet up soon again. Where shall we go this time? Midnight hiking at Bukit Timah Hill??! Let's give Ms Ong's lorry a break. Let's give her hell-rides a break too.

Join the Slimming Profession

If you’re too broke to go for slimming at professional slimming centres, why not go for something that will earn you bucks but helps you to slim down as well?
Too good to be true?
Join teaching!
In less than a month, I think I’ve lost between one to two kgs. I’m back at 47 kg. I’m delighted! But scared at the same time, considering that my weight has always remained rather constant. Even when it increases, it’s usually gradual.
This flighty see-sawing makes me feel rather unsettled. Will I put on some weight after I’ve settled down? Or will my weight just tumble down south?
I’m probably too tired, which makes me lose my appetite at times. I have piano from mons to weds, dance on thurs and I’ll be out having fun on fris, sats.
Can you imagine, me the glutton with a black-hole stomach, not drooling at food? I can’t. It’s like me not being able to figure out what one plus one minus one times one divide by one equal to. I want my appetite back!! Boohoo...
Darn the time I have to wake up. 5:30 is simply unearthly for mere mortals. I should be tucked neatly in bed, not tucking in my blouse to get ready for school. My dark eye rings are just horrific! Convincing enough to look like an extra in a fighting scene.
Oops! Shouldn’t be complaining. After all, it’s only been the first month of school. Heehee.

Whatever it's called...

"Once again, the weary soul drags itself along the dreary, boundless desert.
Drunk in thirst, the soul sees nothing but a mirage. "

This is not the work of pms.

What colour are you?

BLUE You give your love and friendship unconditionaly. You enjoy long, thoughtful conversations rich in philosophy and spirituality. You are very loyal and intuitive. Find out your color at Quiz Me!

Wah, so flattered by what it reveals about me in this test. Think i did it before long time back and i got blue too! Ha, see it's good to be my friend cos i give love and friendship unconditionally! Keke...

My weekly platter

Sigh. With my present schedule, I think blogging will be served as a weekly platter instead.

Friday:
In school:
It must be the cannot-contain-laughter day. A teacher, Mr Tan, came into my class to make a boy who misbehaved sing in front of my Eng class. The boy stood there for a while, contemplated before singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. His ghostly, hesitant falsetto sent the whole class giggling. I dared not laugh, as Mr Tan looked totally serious. But I couldn’t take it any more. I walked to the door and turned my face at an angle so that the kids could not see before bursting into silent laughter. Ay, talk about things that teachers have to resort to to put up a front.

During class that day, I made a boy read a few sentences because his group of monkeys simply refused to zip their mouths. I had been keeping a stern, straight face throughout the lesson because the class was extremely rowdy. He read the sentences with weird pronunciation. Pronunciation so funny that I laughed. I swear that I really tried hard not to laugh. I really did! But I failed.

I must have looked like a face contortionist at that moment. Do you know how it feels? It’s like trying to keep a straight face when someone tickles your foot. My kids caught me laughing. Imagine my embarrassment and how the kid might feel. His teacher laughing at his pronunciation. Worse, I think my bastion against their rowdy behaviour was totally torn down because of that. My façade was gone with that laughter. They saw through me.

At home:
I tried to continue choreographing my Charleston routine. I was at the halfway mark. That day, I managed to complete three-quarters of the routine. I love my routine so far. Heehee. I was hoping to complete it so that we could perform it for next year’s SEA Jam in late Feb. What’s that? It’s a lindy hop dance camp that gives you a mind-boggling experience by making you dance for three straight days. The teachers from overseas will make sure you boogie-woogie from head to toe.

This morning:
Realised that there were bomb blasts in Bali again. The terrorist act reminded me of the Iraq war two years back. George Bush declared war on Iraq because Iraq allegedly was a hotbed for terrorists and had weapons of mass destruction (WMD).

When I told my cousin that I was dead against the war, he said, “ Why? Iraq has WMD. The US was right to send troops in.” He was 20. I was mortified with his answer. From day one, I had believed that WMD and the terrorists was just an ostensible reason that veiled the truth behind the act of aggression.

In our conflict reporting class, we had a discussion about possible reasons why US wanted to attack Iraq. The reasons were everything but WMD and terrorists. Two years later, we were right. There were no WMD and what talk about terrorists? Zilch. And what talk about freeing the Iraq population from a dictator? Who is an outsider to decide the lives of millions? The lives of people Bush had never seen or heard. There was an article that mocked that Americans could not even pronounce “Iraq” properly (It was always “Eye-raq”), much less determine its destiny.

My cousin’s simple reply made me think. Was he just an empathetic young Singaporean, like many others or was it that our media had not been steadfast in covering the stories objectively? Of course, there could be many other reasons.

Some questions to ponder:
Have you ever given thought that the placements of news within a newspaper could very likely affect whether you read a piece of news? Was it at the left hand corner at the top? The right bottom corner?

And amidst the plethora of news, what gets printed on the papers? Undiscerning readers read what’s offered on the papers, unaware that there are other pieces of news out there that were not on the papers. Horrific thought. The media control how we think sub-consciously more than we are aware of. Yes? No?

Hmm, what’s my bottom line here?
If we don’t want to be “kept in the dark”, so to speak, we gotta read from many different sources. Not just our beloved The Straits Times.

And what are the motives behind terrorists attack? We can always dismiss them as pure fanaticism or Muslim extremism as always reported. But is there more to it? I don't condone such acts. But! What if, terrorists are just people who have no avenues to express their suffering, hence resorting to acts of aggression to get news coverage? After all, its a world where the rich and powerful rule while the weak falters into nothingness. I believe the world is grey. Who's right? Who's wrong? What's black? And what's white?