My name is..

Are we next??

Wolf! Wolf!

I saw this today.

Step down from soap box and fold away. Enough said.

xxW

Whats Not Hot

I saw a girl on the MRT on the weekend with a copy of UK Glamour, the small- fit in your handbag type and I was green with envy. Rushed to the nearest 7/11 in desperate hope that I might find another copy but alas.. only Hot was available. Hoping that it would be a sister magazine of Heat which I bought religeously back at Uni I handed over my $3.50 for the trash mag.

Man was I wrong.

Instead of the usual pics of the glitzy and glamorous down the red carpet with a caption which might read as: 'Lindsay Lohan dazzles us once again in vintage Oscar de la renta' or something like that, I get pictures of Kitaro (I know!!-WHO?)looking like a magician in a crushed velvet black suit with a matching shimmery beige waist coat that wouldn't look out of place in a charity shop with tame lame caption reading 'HOw dull Hollywood would be without people like Kitaro to liven up its scene with his fabulously new-age music and bizarre (though entertaining!)fashion sense!

Oh please. Give me at least SOMTEHING worth reading in this magazine!

Ok, so I probably bought it in the first place because of the picture of Paris on the front so I looked for more piccies of our ditzy Ms.Hilton. What did I get?




The three page spread was about Rock Stars trying their hand at acting and vice versa. This is what was said about Paris:

Paris Hilton
Private sex tape star turned pop bimbo
Album: To be released in spring. The first single is 'Turn It On'
The Byline: She's got an album! Look on the bright side, looking at Paris shaking her STD-filled booty without much clothes on wouldn't be as convulsing since most of us have seen her in less.
The 2 cents singing test: Like anyone is even listening? Or looking? Or mistaking her name for a hotel in Paris?

Ok, I'm not her biggest fan, but STD-filled booty? I don't know where to begin on that one. Only that its judging her based on her 5 mins of fame and is obviously ignorant to the fact that that hotel in Paris? Is probably half hers anyway! GAAD!!!

The rest of the spread isn't much better. It makes sweeping remarks about movies/albums which haven't been heard or released yet. Most of the '2 cents singing/acting test' critiques begin with 'Hard to say..blah blah blah.' No wonder its hard to say?! It hasn't been released yet!

It doesn't stop there.

An interview with the Thirsty Traveller (that guy who jets around the world getting pissed on telly) which had questions like this:

Hows the liver doing?
[laughs] This is always the first question from South East Asian journalists. My liver is checked twice a year for insurance purposes...
So what does your wife think of your job?

The interview was shamelessly judgemental from start til finish.

Oh and to top all that - they slate their own Book of the Week!*slap forehead*. If I wanted bitchy snidey remarks about celebs there are dozens of Goss Rags on the Internet, who don't take the trash in trash mag literally. Reckon I can get my $3.50 back? xxW

A happy Kyle with his frozen mango margherita! 

Saw this sign while walking around the shops on sunday and thought I'd share! 

Ameri-can also-Idol

Taking the que from my sister who has finally updated her blog, I'm going to do a quick Idol post too.

I've only really got a few favorites who I want to see in the final three:

• Paris Bennett
• Lisa Tucker
• Katherine McPhee

Thats in order of my preference. Although Paris is my fave of the girls I don't really think she needs to win. C'mon, she's Music Royalty, people.
and for the Boys:

• Tayolor Hicks
• Ace - duh!
• Elliott Yamin

Although I reckon Ace is the Idol this year, I'd rather buy Taylor's album any day. He's another one that doesn't need to win. In fact, I don't think it would be very good for him to win. Its not cool to be the American Idol, know what I mean?

Can't wait to see Singapore Idol- its going to be a hoot! hahaha..

Oh and these pics are from here so you ladies can paste ace's faces on your laptops! enjoy! xxW

Someone feed my brain please?

RIBAbookshop are tired of getting my phone calls. They're also very tired of getting my emails.
Something about delievering to Singapore from the UK is tricky so I've been at Borders and Kino pretty much every other weekend treating it like a library.

My bookshelf at uni buckled under the weight so I resorted to piling my books on the floor. My cat Molly has a problem with sitting on the floor so he'll sit on whatever is covering the floor like, oh say, my brand new 50 quid print, my canvas, my freshly painted canvas, my books, my foot. etc etc. You might say Molly has cold little paws. The same cold little paw prints on my new 10 x 10 !!!!

Our little bookshelf here however, is crying for attention. We use the bookshelf to divide the room and it has a grid of smaller shelves about 300 x 300 mm. Sadly, the books we have fill up two of those spaces and my copies of AR are so dog-eared they're twice the size they came in the post.

Please please send me something to read!



xxW p.s the books above are available on amazon!

Pete Harrison

Check out the link for My Pick This Week. The guy is fresh out of uni and is a freelance designer with his own clothing brand. Check out what he says about his course as well because, well it made me want to go and do it!

Most of the stuff is super pretty and not dissimilar to many of the other young digital artists out there. V v commercial and MTV-ed to the Max but you have to start somewhere if you're trying to make a living huh? In his portfolio under prints there are two which I think are his best and also least, I dunno, club flyer-ish? Bubble Gum which he made for his sister as well as Session 150k is lovely.

The figures and style he's into aren't new but he really does do them very well I think.

I guess the fact that he is the same age as me and looks like he's doing well what with working with all those famous names, is the real reason why he's up there! Oh and not to mention the shout out in this months Computer Arts...

No no no scrap the whole thing, forget what I said. The truth is, is I'm just jealous. The artsy bastard. Check it out and buy the t-shirt people! xxW

Genious subdued or youthful idealism?

You tell me.

A designer, a worker and a rich man meet. Rich man gives the designer a block of marble and says 'build me the most beautiful fountain in the world!'. Scribble scribble sketch sketch - eureka! The designer has drawn up the most beautiful fountain never seen before that will fit perfectly in the rich man's garden. Now the designer hasn't got the skills to actually carve the marble himself so he asks the worker this: 'A rich man has asked me to design the most beautiful fountain in the world, and here is my design, I want you to build it out of this piece of marble' So away goes the worker and chisle chisle chisle he goes..but his tools aren't strong enough and so they break trying to carve the intricate design. He goes back to the designer with the design and tells him that his design is too intricate and cannot be built, besides the rich man will not want that. And so the designer comes back the next day after a sleepless night designing something less intricate and perhaps less beautiful. Again the worker says he cannot build it. This happens again and again. Until one day the designer comes to the worker with a fountain that he saw at I dunno, Ikea. The worker says 'FInally! something I can build!' And so the finished copy goes back to the rich man who sees it, hates it and smacks the designer on the head, chops off his hands and leaves him to bleed to death.

This is how it feels everyday.

At Senthil's leaving party Kyle and I got talking to Senthil's dad about architecture briefly after we cleared up a few things:

Uncle: So how did you manage to get a job in Singapore?
Me: Easy, just used the internet and had a few good interviews *cheeky wink (meant to imply that it was dead easy to get a job, geez do I have to spell it out?)
Uncle: You know you can get expelled from the country. Jailed maybe.. if you are working like that.
Me: OH no no no we have proper working permits and everything its perfectly legitimate (nervous laugh then slowly move away from assuming father)

He caught up with us again and we got talking again. He said something like this: 'the world's greatest architect, I.M.Pei of course, has a building in Singapore.' Now everyone is entitled to their opinions of course so I didn't say anything to protest such a bold claim (that I.M.Pei is the greatest that is. The paper Today a few days ago, had an article about the lack of patents coming from Singapore, not as much innovation as we should have yada yada yada... and so its been on my mind ever since.

Now a number of projects have been built over the years on our little island by some of the international bigwigs out there. Biopolis 'by' Zaha Hadid and the New Supreme Court 'by' Norman Foster to name a few..oh and not to mention the big willies (literally) on Clarke Quay are 'by' Alsop a little birdie said to me.

Why the 'by' you ask? According to the press, both Sir Norm and Zaha don't have the nicest things to say about 'their' designs. Before I carry on here are images of the proposals made:

Sir Norman, when asked about the mothership reportedly claimed that it wasn't his doing and rather it was the choice of the judges. Zaha reportedly stormed out of the project because of, well, creative differences between her and the contractors I believe. I don't have any photos of the mothership but I managed to get a couple sneaky photos of biopolis while I was there.

As a result, you get watered down Zaha where Zaha should be queen of all that is abstract and manic. Oh and a mothership that has landed to defragment the criminals of Singapore and transport them into outerspace. Try googling 'Norman Foster Singapore' on google. The six image hits are oh so sad. Now try googling 'Norman Foster China' and you get a cocktail of images from his one buliding there.

Working in a Singapore office you can see the slump in morale, the lack of passion, ziltch towards that feeling in your stomach that tells you something is actually good yada yada yada.. BUT its not their fault. Okay Zaha might be known for not being the easiest person to get along with and neither is Sir Norm but that's just how creative people are. Alot of architects I've met here are, okay, slightly eccentric - but that goes with the territory, no? And yes they do have very strong opinions about how things should be done, but they aren't that difficult. They still have an idea as to what is possible and what isn't in terms of buildability, costability, designability and *ugh* saleability.

THIS isn't why I slogged my guts out at Uni! I feel so deflated (seriously, quite literally deflated) and disenchanted...

Common scenario (think Little Brit stylee)
Client: Build me a pool on the roof
Architect: Ok, here's a pool on the roof plan.
Contractor: Won't do it.
Architect: But its what the client wants..
Contractor: Nope. Won't do it. I want that one.
Architect: But thats a pool on the ground floor. You said that pools on the ground were cheap leaky holes made for the great unwashed who don't live in condos.
Contractor: Yeah. I know.

And so on..

The problem as I see it, and is by no means constrained to our humble shores but is probably a problem everywhere else in the developing world is that (and this is only talking in architecture terms ok) the architect who should be at the top of the food chain has slipped further and further down to that of a pygmy elephant. All noise and no boot.

A boom some 10-20 years ago meant everyone in the building industry had it good. After that the architects continued going back to school to re-educate themselves while their contractor buddies stayed at home drinking Tiger while missus was working two shifts. Its no wonder Singapore is shitting itself scared that Malaysia is going to 'overtake' , because at this rate, we'll all be fat on Tiger with no money to pay the neighbours for water i.e Singa-poor. xxw

Pencil on a String

It was my friend Senthil's leaving party on the weekend at his house. I haven't seen the guy since school and it was really good to catch up a little seeing as I also used to bully the hell out of the poor guy way back when.

At school Senthil was going out with Nawrase. They were the funniest couple and everyone always ripped the shit out of poor Pencil (Senthil) for being such a softie with Nawrase and that she could lift her finger and he'd come a runnin. Here's a common scene from our old Design Tech days:

In class Nawrase suddenly gets up and storms out the room.
Blam! goes the door and a hush comes over the noisy class. Whats up with her? Ah well back to work.. dum de dum..
20 seconds pass and Senthil goes running out the door after obviously upset Nawrase.
Me: Guess the leash wasn't long enough.

Hahaha.. mean I know but for some reason that little story stuck. xxw

Attack of the Kiasu

I've been living here in Singapore for about 5 months now and as a child my parents would bring me here once in a while for a few days holiday so I'm not unfamiliar with Singapore or the people who live in it.

I'm also quite familiar with the term Kiasu as kids we had Mr Kiasu comics and Phua Chu Kang on satellite television. This is what Wikipedia has to say, but in short-Kiasu is used to describe a person who has a fear of losing or is overly competitive. The former description furthering the intensity of the latter in most cases.

Prepared with my Oxford Dictionary description of a Kiasu and my copies of Mr Kiasu tucked under my arm I was sure I was ready to tackle any one who came my way. If you're going to shove me aside to get to the buffet table I'm a step ahead of you pal- I've gone a la carte.

How wrong was I? How wrong was I to think that the term Kiasu was used to describe a person for a Kiasu is more of a cross from a sub-species of cave person incapable of civilised social conduct and pre-historic animal with vocal abilities that of a fried mammoth.

Wikipedia has it all wrong kiddos so I'm tellin' you like it is. Now here's my bone to pick with 80% of Singaporeans-you are ALL Kiasus. Yup. I said it- so sue me. Though I'm sure you're going to pick the cheapest lawyer you can get even if they got their degree in MickeyMouseUniversity of Shitesville. Then not pay him.

A Kiasu is the person who in the MRT station pushes you aside just before getting on the escalator only to stand on the right side. There are signs that say 'please stand on the left'! Now these signs aren't put there by the public transport board just so that the fag end that you threw back down the escalator doesn't end up on the floor. They are put there so that if you wish to ride the escalator and aren't in a great deal of a rush then the people who need to get to their destinations can walk up unobstructed. Simple huh?

Geez, that ain't so bad you say. Try rushing to work and have someone do that to you? Wait wait - more like have a dozen people do that.

The Kiasu is also the same person who stands in front of the train doors are you are trying to get off at the station. They will pretend not to see you as you are bowled over cartoon stylee then skittle across the MRT floor. No they won't see that you've got your weeks shopping and all your eggs have broken into a shmoosh on the floor right next to your drycleaning. In fact they won't even pretend to help you to your feet as the doors close in on you and you are kicked aside onto the platform only to be trampled further by the stampede of Kiasu rushing to the next All You Can Eat.

Don't mistake the Kiasu with the tourist who doesn't know what the hell is going on. The Tourist will happily chew on their curry puff in the middle of the station unaware of the signs claiming to fine you $1000 should they catch you curry handed. The Kiasu will be the one taking sneaky bites as he dives into his volumous plastic bag full of half priced chicken wings.

But the habitat of the Kiasu extends outside the MRT stations. While the MRT stations remain solely Kiasu territory it is not uncommon that they leave their comfort zones and venture to the surface to meet with the rest of the unsuspecting public.

This weekend I came face to face with one of the worst Kiasu types. The Kiasu Mum. I shudder to think what might have happened should I have incurred the full wrath of one such creature. Kyle and I were waiting for the lift to get to the cinema when Kiasu Mum came along with her two little minions. The sequence of events which followed are:

1. Pushed others waiting for lift aside while leaving son behind to finish his ice cream.
2. As soon as door opened scream for son (lets call him Calvin eh?) 'CALVIIIIIIIN!hurry up come here right NOW!!!!!' -no exaggeration there I promise.
3. Boy comes a bounding like a baby elephant on morphine. Note-young hyperactive boy in tropics=sweaty sweaty brat.
4. I get elbowed in the chest and get forced away from the lift so take the next one up. Grrr..tell self: its okay he's just a kid.
5. Get upstairs to the box office- woah loads of people in the ques. So Kyle and I join the smallest looking que and what do we see? Kiasu mum in line #1. Minion no.1 in one line then our pal Calvin in another. Aren't they going to see the same film?
6. Calvin gets to the front of his que and Kiasu mum followed closely by little one hash through the ques like she was getting out of the primary jungles of Borneo.
7. Upon getting to the front of the ticket que Kiasu Mum tells Calvin to go and que for the snacks..

Its like watching a war lord in the battlefield. "Take your positions!! ATTACK!! DISPATCH!!"

The courting activities of the Kiasu kind I have not yet come into personal contact with but upon distant observation I have come to the conclusion that it is normal practice for a Kiasu to be a patron to one or two 'pubs' (note: in Singapore a bar is commonly referred to as a pub) which he/she will rush to get to after work to make Happy Hour, get blind drunk on 2-4-1s then hope for the best.

Physical appearance is often ignored by your regular Kiasu and so not easily distinguishable in a crowd until you raise a sign for free t-shirts, they'll be the first ones to trample the rest. So please be aware and always alert- they are among us.

Singapore Idol has swept Singapore off its feet and the adverts play at regular intervals on TV. Quick interviews are often shown and this is a perfect example of Kiasuesque behavior:

A teenage boy is being interviewed outside Cineleisure where the Singapore Idol auditions were going to be held the next day
Interviewer: Can you sing?
Teenboy: Ya lah.
Interviewer: Will you be participating in the auditions then?
Teenboy: No lah waste of time. Maybe I join if got free t-shirt.

If they were handing out free shirts at SIdol then I think the whole Kiasu population would be there!

Kiasu (K-5) is sweeping SouthEastAsia faster than Avian flu and common symptoms in Bruneians are already being noted by the authorities. Outside their optimum surroundings i.e MRTs and lifts the Bruneian strand of the Kiasu virus (O-K-boss) includes tell-tale signs of Kiasu-ism seen most commonly at weddings and official functions.

You have been warned. Over and Out. xxw

OMA GAaaWDDDdd..

Call it worship of a human figure. Call it idolisation. Call it what you like you hypocritical bastards but this man- is a LEGEND (I thought GOD might be a little strong, after all there's only One ArchiGod. Scroll all the way down)

I opened up my mail box today and found that OMA (Office for metropolitan Architecture) principled by none other than Rem Koolhaas himself are looking for architects. I almost cried if it weren't for the rude - 'gimme three copies of the xx project' phone call.

He visited Singapore recently and I wanted to see if I could spend a few hours in the afternoon at his lecture and what did I get? What for you want to go see his lecture?! So boring one?! **sigh** Get me back to Uni or I shall forever be condemned to living my days one reflected ceiling plan at a time.

Above are a few snapshots from arcspace of my fave Koolhaas projects.

Valentines Schmalentines

GAhhHH!!

You might have noticed that I hadn't put up a 'Valentines' post on the 14th or mentioned anything about it. Truth is, I love celebrating Valentines day with the gift/card exchange malarky. My Valentines have changed somewhat over the years and I'm sure are set to change some more...

At school we used to send Candy-grams and rose-a-grams with little paper notes attached to our friends/crushes etc etc. I was lucky and always had a few from my friends and proudly walked the halls after receiving my grams armed with my flowers. Once in a blue moon I'd be the happy recipient of a bouquet or two as well so I did pretty well. Then there were the girls who would cart their gifts in buckets (BUCKETS!) back to their lockers giggling and smiling- oh how disgusting! Immediately go back to locker and grab the 5 roses and carry them around all day until they wilt unceremoniously into lunch. bleurgh.

At University my first valentines at Uni I was attached to a boy back home in Brunei and received a gift in the mail. OOh how sweet? Eagerly I opened the box to find a piggy bank shattered into a hundred pieces. 1. A Piggy BANK?!What does that say?'its so you can keep all your change for the washing machine'hmm. Thoughtful. 2. Two words. Bubble. Wrap. One of the boys in my block wasn't doing anything that evening and took me to see some Sandra Bullock film then grab some Indian takeout. Well, more like I dragged him to take me out in my car because earlier on in the day he ran over one of my friends and broke his arm and so didn't want to drive. Aah what a memorable Valentines..

After that initial flop, Kyle managed with my aversion to Valentines and I had two lovely lovely Valentines..

This year I was doing a performance at a venue near Clarke Quay - not so great but it's all experience, right? Between our dry run and actually going on stage we were told we had an hour to grab some food so Kyle and I went to Brewerks. So not really the most romantic place to go but hey at least I wasn't sat in some Indian takeaway checking my car every 5 mins to make sure it hasn't been nicked!

What really irks me these days and always has, are people (generally Bruneian people I know of) who go- why are you celebrating Saint Valentines Day? He is not your patron saint. Who is your savior? You are a bad baad Muslim.

I went out with someone once who said that Valentines was anti-Islam. Hey? You what?! 'Yeah because it was the celebration of someone acting against Islam.'

*slap forehead. I just read this in another Bruneian's blog so I'm venting here a little. Maybe all that time ago it was some deeply religious celebration but now after its been Hallmarked and Rosed to death its lost all religious connotation. So give it a rest folks, its just about getting told that someone fancies your pants, alrighty?

As usual Wikipedia has provided a clue as to why we so enthusiastically celebrate Vday.

To my understanding your relationship with God is between the two of you anything else is just politics. xxw

Lose a couple pounds and a leg to boot.

I saw this picture in the paper while waiting for my lunch. I've seen it around on the MRT and other places but I never noticed that the model has one leg. You don't have to look carefully - the silhouette isn't even there. The angle of the shot means you should be able to see the outline of her other leg just off her leg in the forground-no? You can see quite clearly her left breast so how come not her left leg? I can just imagine the editors now: Lets call them Jack and Mac.

Jack: Aiyo, Mac this picture ah. She must look skinny skinny one.
Mac: Eh Brader- she not bad meh.
Jack: Still TOO F A T (after dismembering her photoshopically) How about now?
Mac: WAH SOOooo f*ing hot man.

Every other page in the newspaper screams at you to slim down and trim that waistline. HAs Singapore's obsession with staying skinny gone so far as to getting rid of limbs? ok ok ok ok, taking it a bit far there- because I suppose the perfect profile of the model appreared skinnier hence they photoshopped leftie out, better for the ad yada yada yada. For those of you who don't live here, watch this space. For those of you who do - you already know what I'm talking about, you just don't realise it.

Call me obsessed with detail but everytime I see this image of the perfect body I can't help but want to pencil in her other leg back to where it normally would be. Esp when you can see her left arm...

Being a part of the minority of the female population here with an average figure a s opposed to tofu and bones, hence the target of all the slimming marketing campaigns, I'm quite used to the unwanted attention from those people handing flyers in the street. I love my body thank you and I'm working on it! wait- how much are those pills again?! WHAT?! no. no. love. body. bye bye.

10 steps to Bloggingham Palace

Things at work have been pretty up and down lately and Revit is so slow I spend most of my time staring at that blue bar at the bottom of the screen guessing what percentage is going to come up. After hours of glazed-over stares we've become acquainted.



Classy isn't he?

Other things I've taken to have been reading other blogs. In this month's issue of Cleo (ok before you laugh- there was nothing else at 7/11-ok!) They had an article on Singapore bloggers. So I checked it out.

After reading a few, okay, quite a few posts of these super popular blogs (we're talking hits in the 6 digits per day here) I've come up with a few rules, once followed gain you Bloggingham Supremacy so read carefully:

1. Be a girl. Okay this may have something to do with the overly girly magazine I read this in but I have to say a vast majority of the links from the said blogs are other girl bloggers. (note the word girl: i.e of a young, cutesy, age - but more importantly: grossly naive)

2. Be hot. Not too easy to achieve if you aren't hot already but remember: in the land of the slim, tiny is king. This will contribute to point no.3 so bear with me. On top of this, it is imperative that you display as much of your Sentosa-ed skin as possible. Whether it be in belts worn as skirts or cleavage baring tops strapped precariously by a few stands of floss to your tofu skin (is what my friend Sam calls the skin on the girls here who are really skinny but as soon as you touch them its really fatty and, well, like tofu) or together whatever the weather. Boots in the tropics? thats hot. *cough* Super velvety high heeled boots in our rainy climate? ooh thats hot.

3. Take pictures. In order for the adoring public to know you are a.a girl and b.hot, there must be evidence. Do it EVERYWHERE. on the bus, on the MRT, in the mirror or the most popular - in front of your computer. Evidently your pouty lips and fake eyelashes are best caught by light from the flat screen daddy bought. Of course the high position of your camera shoots from the most flattering of angles-above. Taking pictures rule #1:Your surroundings are secondary, YOU are primo supremo. got it?

4. Edit edit edit. Pictures don't always come out great but to secure your blog amongst the elite, you must portray yourself to be of perfect porcelain skin with breasts-a-heaving. Get photoshop -an investment soon recovered as soon as you are endorsed and start advertising on your blog.

5. Have an entourage. Your best friend is most important, she/he must be less hot than you (no brainer) or gay. That is the extent of his/her purpose. Oh and of course to help take photos of you.

6. Be spoilt. Throw your money around then display photographs of your car/handphone/house etc etc oh and don't forget details like your always manicured/pedicured digits cluthing your brand new Gucci purchase. This also means that you are only allowed to be photographed/seen at the coolest clubs/bars in town because daddy only wants the best for his wee precious-no?

7. Be 'controversial'. Easily done in conservative Singapore so no excuses here. There is no such thing as being too over the top. Be ageist, racist and insult as many people as possible, and while you're at it- insult the old bin lady outside. Now repeat after me: stick head out of window and scream Listen here all you Crazyass Morons who take my trash out, quit being so F*cking old and do it faster because it stinks in here. It stinks of you and all the people who look like you-you good for nothing worthless cr*pple!
Easy wasn't it? Of course this must be done while maintaining fabulous fabulous hair while proclaiming that you are simply someone with opinions. This brings me to my next point no.8

8. Sleep around. Unless you wish to appeal to the under 16 lot- which mind you is still a considerable audience. Find a 'type' to chase e.g caucasian men, white guys, rich guys, rich white guys - that last one being the most popular. Whats that you say? But Widari YOU have a caucasian boyfriend. Why thank you for your clever insight and pointing out the obvious. If you can't spot the difference between a one-night shag after sucessfully dragging unsuspecting victim who ticks all the C's (cash,credit,car,countryclub,condo etcetc) and growing to love a friend who you've met at university (note:not seedy club/zouk/MoS) then both parties decide to cart half way around the world together, twice, you have my sympathy.

10. Swear like you have turrets. Swear to the high heavens so help me Lord! (the dirty mouth comes with the image + brings you down to the i.q level sufficient for a mass audience)

Upon following these rules, and careful photographing/editing you can bump up that little counter to the thousands! whoopee!

Now I bet you are wondering which blogs I had so innocently stumbled across and you now want to read them or oggle at their photos. See? the rules work. Now before you go searching my archives (of two months) and go: She's such a hypocrite! She's 22, lives in Singapore takes photos and has a white boyfriend. huff huff huff. Now before you hurt yourself I want you to do these two things: 1. calm down and breathe, I REALLY can't pay for your medical bill and 2.See this tongue? The one firmly planted in my cheek? Go figure.

And now.. back to Rob. xxw

13th February

WooHooo so its my birthday today and I am now a whopping 22 (!!!)

The first half of the day is already gone and spent mostly in this stinky office but hey, its O.K. I ain't that fussed..

But after 6 there's no stopping me!! I'm going to rip up the town on this fine monday bling bling stylee just to show everyone else who is boss. Parade all 5'3'' of my fine self down Clarke Quay to the theme tune of Sex in the City or Bold and the Beautiful- you choose. My life is a musical, don't you know?
OoOoh then I'm going to eat caviar and smoke a cigar and lavish in my newly established 22-ness. 21? Oh don't be so yesterday DAH-ling. I'll then meow my way through mindless conversation about so-and-so's new found hobby and how our yoga classes are getting too crowded with creatures from the great unwashed. tut tut rah rah.
And then I'm going to go to MoS where all fancy and chic young hotties go to shake their booties, the DJ is going to play 'my song' which I announce to the crowd and dance on the podium then get asked to join the VIP party in the VIP room with all the VIPs doing things that VIPs do. By this time they'll crown me Queen and awe in my presence. RRarrr..Watch me go!

... but then...

... its monday... then I suppose that means tomorrow is tuesday...

*sits down again like an old biddy with my mug of tea and chocolate digestives*

Desperate Housewives anyone? xxw

Tiffany, Me and Janice before Friday's show for Club Med. Catch us again at Club MOMO on Valentine's Day. *WARNING:*Ladies, keep a hold of your boyfriends and tell them not to bother (that only goes for me and janice!) because this time- We're bringing out the big guns. 

Oh man, Tioman!

Friday night we got home from work and realised. Oh crap. We have 5 days until we fly to Brunei and haven't made any plans!? It was chinese new year that weekend so everywhere was bound to be shut until wednesday.

Called all the cheap hotels in Bintan with no luck.

Called all the not so cheap hotels in Bintan with less luck.

Tioman? Tioman is a little island situated just off the east coast of Peninnsular Malaysia and is a local dive fave. Some coral, nice fish - why not eh?

So Tioman here we come! WooHOO.. oh wait.. how do we get there?

CAlled back the lady in Tioman. err.. how do we get to Panuba? (name of the resort)

So yes, Saturday morning Kyle called the bus company to try and get us to Mersing which is where the ferry leaves to get to Tioman. But alas, no luck. cry cry cry.

I was still at dance practice that morning so finally met up with Kyle for lunch around 1. Slumped in our seats - how do we get there?! At that point we thought we might have to cancel our holiday.

To cut a longer story short this is how it went:
1. at 5 walked through the park behind the house to get to the KTM (Keretapi Tanah Melayu) train station to catch the 630 train to Johor Bahru.journey time=45mins.
2. Reached Johor majorly hungry so had some quick food which brought us to about 8.
3. Hailed a taxi to take us to Mersing. journey time=2 hours in the scariest car ride I have ever been on.
4. Checked into a rest house at about 11 in dirty dirty Mersing.
5. Got up a few hours later at 5 to catch the 630am ferry to Tioman. Journey time=4 hours

*whew*



This is the same view from our balcony at Panuba taken at different times of the day. My fave was the paddle pop sky.



A sexy sexy photo I took of Kyle at sun set. He's such a poser and easy to photograph I love it!



This was taken on Muara Beach in Brunei while Kyle was kiting. It took a few tries for me to get a good shot while keeping my distance in case I got landed on but this is my fave of the set.



I Love lazy holidays. Even if we had to work to get there. xxw

Holiday Blues

Flew back to Singapore on Sunday evening after rushing to the airport with less than an hour until depature time! (totally against my rules of being there 3 hours early!haha) Pretty yucky flight with the turbulance and lady who was being sick everywhere - v unpleasant. At first I saw her in the corner on the gangway to the plane spitting on the floor (!) then fully chucking up in the middle the next minute (!!!) poor girl. So I told the steward as I got on the plane 'The lady there isn't feeling well she's been sick' (not realising he may not have understood the term being sick). To which he just nodded his head and told me to move on. Being my mothers daughter- the following thoughts went through my head:

1. That lady is chucking up.
2. Is she drunk?
3. or worse, ill? flu perhaps?
4. flu?! BIRD FLU??!!""£*&Q*365&R$!!
(sirens sounding in time with the terbulance)
5. flu+sick lady of oriental origin+recycled air=oh. crap.

at this point the slighly more rational, laid back half of my brain kicks in.

6. oh its okay. she's all the way over there and we're all the way back here. (like thats going to make a difference!)
7. she doesn't speak english - doesn't mean anything she could be from anywhere. plus she would have gone through the health screen at the airport (hyperchondriac widari says 'health screen at brunei airport?yea rite')
8. its okay its okay. reassure self that sick lady is far far away.
9. besides she might just be drunk.

then what happens? sick lady is sick some-more and chucks up in the aisle. (THE AISLE!!!) then steward moves her next. to. us.

WTF!?

Yeah so I'm sat at home this fine thursday morning after having raging headaches and sore belly since monday.

nice.

Oh, and as usual had fun at the immigration counter at the airport before getting on the plane:

passes over both passports with all relevant documents and permit cards included.
man hands back kyle's followed by his passport saying 'you should not put your green card in here'
yes. yes we won't do it again.
man gives me back my passport.
step aside. I give it a quick check. where's my green card?!
Err. excuse me you still have my work permit.
man: next time jangan kau biarkan kad ani dalam passport (don't you leave your card in your passport.rude)
me(before he finished his sentence): next time you should give back the passports as they are. (said in malay but I couldn't do a literal translation which sounded right)

ok ok shouldn't have snapped back I guess, but the man was so bloody rude. If i hadn't asked for my work permit back I'd be standing at the immigration counter at CHangi like a lemon who lost the one document which allows me to travel and stay freely in and out of the country.

SO yes, a lovely end to my week and a half holiday.