Domestic issues

These are the personal care products I no longer use:

(Left to right) Back: Hair conditioner, shampoo, body lotion. Middle: Deodorant, eye stress gel. Front: Lip balm (top), face moisturiser.

I think this group alone cost RM78 (!!! not sure about the price of the shampoo), and still my aged skin was flaky and dried out 5 minutes after I dutifully patted moisturiser on right after a shower, when the skin is still damp and such concoctions ostensibly "seal in the vital moisture". Did they hell.

I did some reading, and decided that yes, I would join the growing chorus of female consumers who no longer use products that comprise elements that don't roll off the tongue easily and that may or may not cause adverse reactions (on the skin or otherwise) in tested animals.

It sounded quite radical to me, plus the eventual replacement (yes, one item) cost much less and lasts almost 3 times as long. So, no, petrolatum by-products et al. are no longer for me. Instead, it's this:

Imported wan. From the Philippines. I'm a bebot now, fo' sho'. (RM18.90 for 250 mL; lasts for ages.)

Edited to include usage instructions:
Use one (1) drop only to moisturise your face. Spread said drop on your palms and pat into skin. Blot with a towel if your face feels too slick afterwards. Using too much will lead to breakouts, and they ain't pretty.

Storage
Dispense to a smaller bottle, e.g., 50 mL, and keep at room temperature so that it stays liquid. Stock solution (haha) goes in the fridge, or the frying pan, if that works for you.

It smells great, and it makes me want to say this (any excuse really):



And that's all.

Punchlines aka Utter defiance of established logic

All eccentrics have pet peeves that normal people don't. That's what makes them eccentric. Take this person, for instance:

Person: Oh, I hate eggs so much!
Me: What do you mean? Eggs are great!
Person: It's just the texture of the things...
Me: The yolks are the best bit, especially when they're runny.
Person: Eugh... *shudders* Eggs... hate 'em.

[Later on.]

Person: These sandwiches are really nice.
Me: They're egg salad though... 
Person: Really? Gimme another!
 

Modern life

That moment in the middle of the work day when you're working on a desktop or laptop computer and want to check your FaceBook and/or Twitter, and reach for your phone instead (who could blame me?).

This is the phone I use. Image source: Unknown.

 

Twu Wuv (or something like it)

Imagine this: The boyfriend agrees to look up the trailer for Red Lights* because Cillian Murphy is in it.

He types the title into the YouTube search bar and the auto-complete list appears.
As one, you both gasp in horror at the suggestion that reads "red lights movie 2012 spoilers", and practically slam the tab shut.

I believe that it is difficult to find someone like that. Gasping with the same tone and duration as you do, and for the same reasons, means that the two of you share something special that goes beyond an appreciation of an impossibly fine-boned and fine actor. 

You should hold on to such a person if you find them; and hold tight, because the world is likely to come howling to your doorstep and baying for your blood, wild with jealousy after realizing that somehow, you of all people have the privilege of calling this gem yours.

Right, back on the meds now.

* Absolutely not the sequel to the nervy Red Eye (2005).

Story of my life

[Someone in the family falls ill.]

Person: Woe is I; I require nourishment that heals!
Me: Hm, I'll cook a [tasty yet healing dish involving a lot of ginger and other healthful ingredients].
Person: Hurray!

[I fall ill.]

Me: Woe is I; I require nourishment that heals!
Mum: Let's have pizza!

Perception vs. reality

It's unbelievably easy to slip down the "social networking" slope when you work in an environment unfettered by a corporate IT policy (to understate it) and have to do a lot of online "research". That, and a recent IT security scare*, made me resolve to go on a digital diet.**

Rather than trawling the FB or the Twitter during lunch hour or after work, I decided to access all work-unrelated miscellany using only a smartphone. The key to ensuring this idea worked was to: 

1) Own a smartphone.
2) Be subscribed to a data plan.

This approach works. For about 2 weeks (if you're me). It works because a mobile data plan is still light years away from broadband and home fibre network speeds, and you just feel really silly staring at a 4.5-inch screen waiting for a page to load, all the while knowing it contains absolutely nothing that will impact your life in a significant way. So, you go back to work, and work productivity doubles.

Unfortunately, a smartphone doesn't need booting up, unlike a laptop. Thus, after the aforementioned 14 days, you just get used to the loading times, transforming into the type of techno-nerd wanker featured in memes:

I'd be the girl in jeans on the left, but frownier. Image from Share Dis LOL (seriously??)

The boyfriend wonders where the girlfriend has gone; deadlines are just barely met (just kidding); plants are neglected. So, now I'm back to Square 1. New tactic: Put the phone in another room. I just need to put it down.

* Possible email spoofing incident.
** I don't think I can handle a detox.
 

Overheard on a boat

Wherever you travel, day excursions are a great way to meet people from other countries. You'd be surprised by the things you never knew you never knew. Enfant Terrible and I went snorkeling in Krabi, and there was a group of Americans on the long-tail boat:

[At a snorkeling spot. Some opt to remain onboard while the others splash around in the water. A young American woman (YA) makes small talk with a non-American woman (NA).]

YA: Where are you from?
NA: I'm South African, but I was born in Namibia.
YA: *gapes* Where?
NA: Namibia.
YA: Wow, where is it?
NA: *bemused* It's in Africa.

[Those on board start tuning in in earnest.]

YA: Namibia is in Africa? Oh my god... I'm doing geography and I've never even heard of Namibia!
NA: Well... it's a pretty small country.
YA: Oh my god, "Namibia"... what's it called, really?
NA: Er... Namibia.
YA: Wow.

[YA's friends climb back onto the boat.]

YA: You guys, this is [Woman] and she's from Namibia!

Elswhere, the Thai name for "fox" is also "musang".

Differing expectations

Every time we come back from a holiday, Enfant Terrible and I ask each other where we should go next. Every time we go on holiday, I ask myself why I keep travelling with this boyfiend. The scenario runs thus: we arrive at the destination, check in, freshen up, and walk around town. Then:

He: What shall we do tomorrow?
Me: Laze on the beach!
He: Nah, let's do something more active.
Me: Er... walk up and down the beach?
He: *spots a tourist info booth* LET'S GO FOR AN ALL-DAY MOUNTAIN BIKE RIDE.

So yes, I have gone on an all-day mountain bike ride and I can still feel the imprint of the saddle on my tender bits. Hurrah, modern life.

Easy as pi

I see why people have children. There's no one easier in the world to impress, at least until they turn 16 or so. Then you get a dog.

Cousin (12 years old): Hey, do you like Justin Bieber?
Second cousin (around the same age): *giggles*
Me: Do I like Justin Bieber?
Cousin: Yeh.
Me: No, I don't go for young girls.
Second cousin: EPIC COMMENT. OH.

How things change

A nostalgic-like thread developed during a FaceBook discussion the other day:

"blablabla Boyz II Men bla."
"Oh, NKOTB were the bomb I heard they're on the cruise ship tour circuit now (or maybe that was the Backstreet Boys)."
"OH boybands... I really loved those BSB fellas..."
"Mmm, JC Chasez."

In the evening, I had to wait in the car for a bit while Enfant Terrible got ready for dinner. The new Justine Bieber song (Boyfriend*) was playing.

It was redolent of, dare I type it, sexy feel. My external auditory meatus was swamped by the sexy feel. I was simultaneously intrigued and creeped out. Intrigued because here was Canada's #1 one-man boyband sounding sexy, creeped out because he is (only) 18 years old.

This young man is confusingly pretty. Image from The Justin Bieber Shrine

Things have not changed at all. Young, good-looking men are still making sexy faces and sounds that throw old(er) girls like me for a loop and think they're way too young to be behaving like that (though they're clearly not).

Suddenly, I have a rudimentary understanding of the desire to be forever young. The candy-colored everything, the predilection for impossibly tiny and delicate delicacies like rainbow-hued macarons, the entire concept of precious behavior. All aim at preserving the feeling of youthfulness.

I might be being melodramatic, but think about it: those who really go for that stuff, i.e., if they're all "OMGWTFBBQ<3<3<3" in real life, they might tell you they're 28 years old 5 years in a row.

* Entirely different and infinitely better than the one by Big Time Rush**
** Don't know what else they've done, but I had a hell of a difficult time looking them up.

Differs from expectations

It was Enfant Terrible's idea to watch Prometheus*.

"Why do you want to watch Prometheus?" I asked.
"Because it's a space movie."

Upon reflection, watching Prometheus because "it's a space movie" is like watching the Rocky Horror Picture Show because you want a little song and dance.

*Verdict: Had its moments, but left the audience largely unfulfilled, even despite the presence of Heimdall, Aeon Flux, the original Lisbeth Salander, a Tom Hardy lookalike, and the requisite number of light humor/cannon fodder peripheral characters.

Freedom

Charlie thought life outside the factory would be paradise. Charlie was wrong.

Unanswered

The applause at the Mutua Madrilena Masters in Madrid, Spain, was drowned out by the volume of whining about the horrible, nasty blue clay coming from sterling examples such as Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic.

Now that the dust has settled (ahem), I'm curious: did the ladies play on another surface at the WTA Masters Open in Madrid? Because I don't recall reading about Victoria Azarenka vowing never ever ever to return to play on that slippery-ass blue stuff ever again. Nor do I remember Serena Williams complaining that it's only a matter of time before players get hurt.

All I remember is Roger Federer the eventual men's winner posing, somewhat bemusedly, with Will Smith and the latter's suit from Men in Black 2.

System purge required

I watched The Avengers. Developed a compulsion. This link is not helping:

The best bit in Thor 

It's like cat videos, but a million times better.

Perception

Sometimes, I wonder if we've fallen into a relationship rut and whether Enfant Terrible sees me as just someone who's there.

Then we watch Thor and he tries to block my view of Chris Hemsworth strutting around and practically bursting out of those black Levi's and I know it's all good.

Oh, honey, put that away; you're gonna have someone's eye out. (Image from fanpop)

Life as we know it

Strange but true:

Malaysians spend countless hours on "social networking" in the hopes of meeting that One True Person with whom they want to spend their life with.

This, in comparison to setting aside about 30 minutes each March/April to figure out how they've spent their earnings over the last fiscal year (assuming you're simple like me). 

These people will actually find someone to communicate with, and soon prepare self and same for a breathlessly awaited visit/gift from The One.

They are also only too happy to help The One/gift from The One enter the country by paying the customs tax/what-have-you that the evil Customs Department has arbitrarily imposed on the diamond ring/laptop/collector's item animal/The One to the tune of thousands, if not tens of thousands of their own hard-earned money.

This, instead of the final tax amount payable to their own country, which is paltry by comparison.

Of course, the promised item/One doesn't show up ever because it was all a scam. The swindle will make the newspapers again, and I will have to read that instead of some delicious gossip involving a naked celebrity and delectable items of food.

And please let's not go into the whole promised 200% ROI and mystical medium lottery numbers thing. There wouldn't be enough internet to go around.

I find it incredible that there really are people (women) out there who are so lonely and/or have such low self-esteem that they fall for this bullshit. I feel sorry for them and I'm angry that they've been brought up in such a way that they perceive such "romancing" to be right and true.

I'm naive, of course, but I believe that there would be fewer victims if more people just held the view that "my money is mine, and you can make your own bloody bread/bed, thank you very much".

Anticipation

GOOD GOD, YOU PEOPLE, WHAT DO YOU MEAN "SOON"?

Yes, Loki, I know everyone's hating on you, but that's what haters do.

Is it too much to ask to see Tom Hiddleston rock that pimp stick like a motherfuckin' pimp next weekend?

April Fool's Day, you say?

I am mucking around with a Samsung Galaxy Tab 7.7 whatsit at telco provider Digi while waiting for Enfant Terrible to decide on a smart phone. The Tab is fun to mess with and I liked it, although the idea that countless people and their greasy fingers have preceded me now makes me queasy. I've opened its Polaris Office feature and have typed "Dude i made a new doc" when the sales girl comes over.

Sales girl: Hi, can I help you?
Me: So, can I email myself and open the file on a Windows PC and work on it like a regular file?
SG: Ya, the file is in .doc format.
Me: My god, what a stupid question that was.
SG: And you can also make calls on it too.
Me: NO WAY. I mean, oh yes, of course... Er, I'll be going over to that corner now.

Travel tips: Grooming

The only thing you're allowed to neglect when you go on a beach holiday in Koh Samui is your internet habit. Other than that, you owe it to yourself and the pictures you will take to take care of yourself.

This sign at Big Buddha temple says, "No matter how big (important) you are in life, you will always be smaller than your coffin."

Suburban deathtrap

The last time she counted, my neighbour had 13 cats. I believe none are spayed/neutered, which means she'll probably wind up with more in the next few months.

Naturally, the range in which they roam overlaps with our conventional human boundaries. This means we have to check under our cars to ensure we don't inadvertently run over a snoozing kitty. We also have to scrutinise sandy patches very carefully before stepping on them, lest we stumble into the litter box of the week.

Currently, our front porch has been claimed by a white and grey cat that spends its afternoons guarding it behind closed eyes. To ensure no intruders sneak up on it, it wedges itself securely into a dustpan in the corner, shielding its face with one paw to protect itself from shrapnel. Or something.

Come evening, it uncoils itself, stretches, and stalks off to capture a hapless feeding bowl.

I suppose it's also understandable that a family of shrews would find the numerous plants in our garden reassuringly tall, and appear with clockwork punctuality every morning to frolic and mock the cats that have to stay indoors.

That said, the areas away from the houses look like a veritable animal kill zone. You can't go 2 weeks without seeing a cat or shrew that has been run over by a motorist. Often, the cats look like someone's pet (can't say the same for the shrews).

I don't have pets, but surely it isn't that much trouble to take your foot off the gas just that little bit, or neuter/spay your pets to reduce the carnage on our roads?

Respite

Last year, Enfant Terrible and I planned a week-long getaway for next week. At the time, the motivation wasn't due to year-end work pressure; rather, the flight was cheap.

As I wind up work for this week, I can't help feeling that a break is an excellent idea, mainly because the following has been occurring with greater frequency lately:

#1
Mum (calling from the market): Eh, wanna buy rib-eye steak ah?
Me: Whatever for... up to you lah, it's not my money anyways, hehe.
Mum: Aiyah, I buy lah; you cook. Heheh.

#2
Bro2: Eh, you going holiday next week issit?
Me: Yeah.
Bro2: Wah, so nice ah holiday... EH, means next week no cooking ah??? WHAT WILL WE EAT?
Me: That is not my fucking problem!

#3
Corporate Client Handler*: Hi, could you edit this [few thousand word] PDF** document?
Me: Apologies, but I'm handling 2 private clients at the moment (ooh, look at you, gurl), so I won't be able to accept anything more this week.
CCH: BUT... There aren't any other editors who can do this T____T

* For want of a better term
** You use annotation software, and it's like working in PhotoShop or GIMP, but with words.

Familiar territory

You start to recognise specific people when you've lived in a neighbourhood as long as I have (about damn time, too). 

In my case, I notice those who are out exercising. There's Brisk-walk guy, who always walks the same route around the same block and who has probably lost 10 kilos since I first saw him. We've gone from eyeing one another suspiciously to exchanging nods, hellos, and, "How many rounds oredi ah?"

Bald guy puts in regular appearances at the park. He gets the required exercise time practically every day but, for some reason, still has a pot belly.

There are the Dog walkers, who carry out their chore looking blank yet po-faced. Civic conscious exhortations notwithstanding, I have never seen these people with trowels or plastic bags (unlike Terry the muscle-bound neighbour).

The person I like seeing best is the Nutter. I was driving home when I saw him for the first time. Lanky, loose-limbed, and looking decidedly Caucasian, he was bounding up the road like a kid released from school. In the driving rain.

Jeremy Wariner in a pose a la Francois (Image: Exposay)

Sticky wickets: Borne of frustration

Writers for whom English is not a first language tend to be more particular about grammar than those from so-called native English-speaking countries (data not shown; statistical analysis pending). This is most apparent when it comes to the tenses used when referencing other authors' work.

Resolutions: Tact

It pays to think before you speak. That way, you won't dole out the following advice:

To a person clearly not having a good time:
Wrong "You wouldn't be so fat if you ran instead of plodding up the hill."
Right "Running up the hill will increase the calories you burn."

To the boyfriend:
Wrong "That jacket makes you look really sexy, like Shane Walsh." (see below)
Right "That jacket makes you look really sexy."

I don't know where this pic is from; I'm just glad it exists.