i like lists. so sue me.

Untitled (Rolls of Printed Fabric, Paris), 2006, by William Eggleston

More things to add to my growing to-do list in New York:

-- William Eggleston!!! (Excitement conveyed by three exclamation marks.)
-- Drink and Draw, with a supposedly nude model, to make up for the robed nudist lesbians. I can't draw, but I sure can drink.
-- Vintage shopping at Stella Dallas in Greenwich Village and Fox & Fawn on Delancey St.
-- Pinkberry fro-yo! How can anyone resist anything with "Swirly Goodness" in its tagline? (Or 50% off in winter?)
-- Crate & Barrel
-- Fishs Eddy

#8 & #13

For the past six months or so, I've been religiously following the face-slimming massage that I learnt from this video (thanks, MS!)

I wasn't all that sure the five-minute routine was working, though, and was already slacking off on mornings when I was short of time (which happened on a near-daily basis).

Then, a couple of days ago, I met someone whom I had not seen since I started doing the face massage. This was how the conversation went:

FRIEND: You look different!
ME: I'm growing my hair long.
FRIEND: No, it's something else.
ME: Errr, I permed it too.
FRIEND: [Still staring intently at me] Did you lose weight?
ME: I wish lor. Don't have lah.
FRIEND: I know! Your face is slimmer!

In addition to anecdotal evidence of a less fishbally face, I also have inconclusive photographic evidence. (Warning: Scary photos coming up.)


June 19, 2009


July 17, 2009


August 22, 2009


October 10, 2009


November 10, 2009


December 9, 2009

The inconsistent camera angles do not help, I know, in a proper scientific evaluation. And you probably need vernier callipers to measure the minute reduction.

Okay, so anyway, a slimmer face does not equate glowing skin, which was what I set out to achieve in #8 on the list. But what I meant with that was basically to take better care of my skin, which I think I achieved.

I'm still trying to achieve the glowy part, which is why, about a month ago, I bought a Clarisonic skincare brush. In part, I was swayed by this rave review (as well as the literally hundreds on various beauty websites).

It's been less than a month and the jury (ie. me and my sis, we share one device with a brush head each) is still out, though we agree that the skin feels softer, moisturisers seem to absorb better and make-up goes on more smoothly.

I'm not glowing like the moon yet, but I'm going to give it a few more months to slough off all those years of dead skin.

And as for #13, well, my hair looks pretty much the same length in the last photo above, no?

it better snow

More things to add to my list of things to eat do in New York:

-- Have good tiramisu at La Lanterna Caffe.
-- Attend a poetry slam.
-- Visit what looks like a fun sake bar.
-- Pretend to understand the art at the New Museum.
-- Partake of good creole food.
-- Have a picnic in the snow (like the Beatles did!), even though quite a few people have warned/cursed me that it won't snow when I finally get there.
-- Visit the Empire State Building (or was it the other one, which would allow me to have a good view of the Empire state Building?).
-- Have a look see at Marc By Marc Jacobs store.

I'm open to other suggestions, faster leave a comment for me below!



On a tangentially-related note: How sweet is this Missed Connection illustration? From here.

#12

I made a feeble attempt at #12, I must admit.

First, I went through all my cookbooks and gave away or sold cheap cheap those I knew I would never cook from. (Hence reducing the number of recipes I have to tackle. It's not cheating, it's strategy.)

Next, I went through all the remaining ones I couldn't bear to part with -- Nigella, Harumi, Jamie, perhaps a dozen in total -- and slapped Post Its on those recipes I wanted to try.

My first -- and only effort -- was a cream cheese muffin from Harumi, which seemed simple enough except that I used plain flour instead of self-raising and produced inedibly tough 发糕 by mistake.

The rest of last year's kitchen experiments were mostly from the greatest cookbook ever, also known as the Internet.

In March, I made an ice cream layer cake for two friends' birthdays, and salad and grilled tomatoes with honey vanilla balsamic vinegar.

In August, I made my very first casserole, with leftover chicken and Campbell Soup.

In December, I made up for lost time with cranberry muffins, chocolate bread and butter pudding and doggie biscuits.

There may have been a couple of batches of cookies and quite a number of ice creams and sorbets in the course of the year, but I cannot remember them without photo or blog documentation.

Even though I did not accomplish the goal of #12, not by a long shot, I'm going to cross it out nonetheless, because I realised that (a) I only like to look at food porn and reading recipes, not following them, (b) my actual cooking is based on sudden cravings, which I then satisfy by Googling and then modifying the recipes, (c) cookbooks never stay open and also get dirty in the kitchen and I can't bear that happening, and (d) I did make about 12 dishes, which seems like a good number to me.

Oh, and this isn't going to stop me from buying more cookbooks this year.

apple of my eye

The countdown has begun.

On my trip, I will:

-- Wear things I never get to in Singapore: woolly hats, scarves, winter coats, furry ear muffs, pink wigs, etc.
-- Not complain about the cold.
-- Eat lots of peanut butter bonbons from Vosges without considering the cost of airfreight.
-- Buy everything I like from the Moma store without qualms.
-- Actually visit the Moma (and not just the gift shop).
-- Eat many burgers: Shake Shack, Burger Joint and that tiny burger that I forget the name of.
-- Make a snow angel. And snow man. And snow woman. And snow doggie.
-- Walk the whole way across the Brooklyn Bridge this time and not be overtaken by old ladies with those walking stick-portable chair combos.
-- Go ice-skating.
-- Take lots of photos.
-- Sneak into a lecture at NYU.
-- Share the best steak in the world (Peter Luger) with someone or two (only because there is no way I can finish it on my own).
-- Eat Sylvia's chicken with bare hands.
-- Stay one night at the Chelsea Hotel (or maybe not. I'm scared of ghosts).
-- Drink gallons of soup from the Soup Nazi.
-- Do that Sally thing at Katz's Deli.
-- Visit High Line park and Dumbo and pretend to be one of those arty farty types.
-- Revisit Coney Island (even though I know it is now a shell of its former self).
-- Two words: Krispy Kreme. Another two words: Hot now!
-- Document all the food I eat, which will be a lot, just based on the items on this list.
-- Heck care about weight gain.
-- Stake out Urban Outfitters and Anthropologie for sale items.
-- Visit Brooklyn Flea at its fancy new Art Deco venue.
-- Find the Sad Panda.
-- And last but not least, hang out with two of my most favouritest people in the world (and freak them out by rolling in their bed with my "outside clothes" on).



On repeat mode now. Jay-Z's emotionless rapping doesn't do anything for me, but Alicia Keys is smokin' hawt.

the hours

Yes, Clarissa thinks, it's time for the day to be over. We throw our parties; we abandon our families to live alone in Canada; we struggle to write books that do not change the world, despite our gifts and our unstinting efforts, our most extravagant hopes. We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep - it's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out of the windows or drown themselves or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us, the vast majority, are slowly devoured by some disease or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself. There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds or expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) knows these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning; we hope, more than anything, for more.

~ Michael Cunningham, The Hours

A wee bit of a downer, but I think it expresses my mood perfectly on this first day of the year when everything is new and shiny and full of possibilities. Have a good one, everyone, and may everything you hope for, and more, come true.