Sunday, May 30

new dots, new thoughts

After changing my hair, it's time to change the look of this blog.

It's been almost exactly one year since One Hundred Days Of... was started. I've forgotten the smidgen of HTML I learnt to cobble together the original site. If anyone can solve the mystery of that thin white line on the left of the three big dots on top, please enlighten me, cos it's bugging me to death. And yes, I'm anal like that.

Work is still in progress. To be continued...

Saturday, May 29

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind

We were all prepared to weep our eyes out at the movie, even handing out tissue paper right at the start.

But only a few tears slipped out. That is not to say the show was a disappointment, just an example of great control over my tear ducts.

I've always loved Charlies Kaufman's work -- Being John Malkovich and Adaptation -- and I think Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind is now my new favourite.

The idea of erasing all memories of a past love doesn't quite work for me though. I'd prefer to keep the good and the bad intact, something along the lines of "Those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it".

For anyone who have ever had a relationship gone wrong and wanted to forget, this is the movie. Word of warning for those who suffer from motion sickness though, that there are some shaky camera angles.

Tuesday, May 25

hair today, gone tomorrow

While lunching on Saturday on penne vongole -- after applying to become a maid, but more on that at a later date -- I was given two ho-hum reasons to cut my hair short. One, it was cooler. And two, it would make me look fresher. Not particularly compelling reasons. Yet, suddenly later that same day, I was struck by the urge to just snip it all off.

So today, I did it.

"Are you sure? I'm going to cut. This is quite drastic," the hairdresser warned me. Two hours later, I emerged with what looked like bed hair and a satisfied look on my face. For the first time in three years, I actually felt the sun burning into my neck as I strode out for lunch.

Responses so far have ranged from no comment at all, to gasps of shock, "why???" and "I prefer girls with long hair", to compliments that I look "so purdy" and that I should now form a band cos I look like Joan Jett. Or was the last one a compliment at all?

But the best one had to be from my sissy, who pointed out that I now resemble this adorable paperdoll I love, which was also used for the Zouk flea market poster. Will post a photo if I take one, but in the meantime, scroll down to look at the poster.

Sunday, May 16


I like them. Birds that don't fly. Birds that are so inaccessible that I will never meet one in real life, so they will never be able to peck me to death.

I used to have a penguin icon on my mobile phone. And I have this crazy book of photos of two penguin-sized fibre-glass penguins, lugged to places such as London, Paris and New York just to be photographed.

And now, I found Edward Monkton's Penguin of Death.

Also check out his gallery. I love the shoe, the frock, the chocolate and the potato that can't swim.

Tuesday, May 11

my so-called friends

Do these names mean anything to you?

Dave, Charla and Keith
Rob and Amber
Lex and Rupert
JPL, John Stevens, La Toya and Fantasia
Adrianne and Elyse
Wai Chung, Adam, Sivert, Mark and Rachel

I know them so well. The tom-boy model. The overly-competitive male. The red-haired freak. The bimbo with the big tits, big eyes and big teeth. The cao ang moh. The construction worker from Boston.

In fact, I feel I know them better than some people I regard as friends, but who no longer bother to share what is happening in their lives.

Am I watching too much reality TV? Or is there something wrong with the state of my friendships?

Monday, May 10

happy birthday to me

Isn't it wonderful to receive birthday presents? Especially when it isn't even your birthday anymore!

And the best gifts, as I was told a long time ago and which stuck in my head for being so apt, are things that someone wants but will never buy. Such as the Sex And The City book I've had on my wish list for the longest time. Thanks, my lurve!

Now, if only someone can buy me Carrie's wardrobe...

Sunday, May 9

flea & easy

We thought the flea market was going to be in the outdoor carpark of Zouk, so I dressed to beat the heat in my sluttiest denim cut-offs, cotton tank, flip flops and hair in plaits. Then it turned out to be inside Zouk itself, with aircon and even alcohol.

Exhausted from a whole day of selling off my clothes and bags for meagre sums of $2 to $5. My target was $250, or half the cost of a new Elna sewing machine, but it seems I can only buy a quarter of it.

At least I controlled my urge to spend at the other stalls, otherwise I might not even have any profits to speak of.