Thursday, June 12

default face



I believe this is my "default face". You know, sort of like when you go into screen-saver mode on the bus. It's the face you have on when you are NOT:

a. chattering overly loudly to your colleagues over lunch at Pasta de Waraku (and doing the excited seal clap when food actually arrives)
b. engrossed in Criminal Minds or Numbers or Bones or Mythbusters (yes, I'm a big geek)
c. pretending to pay attention during meetings and hoping the boss doesn't call on you (and then nattering in wide-eyed terror something like "I agree with what XXX just said")
d. riveted by some tale your date just regaled you with (Hasn't happened for a while now. Date? What date? Oh, I don't really like dried fruit)

The story behind my extremely bored face is on my twin's blog. She's also the one who captured the ennui of that night (and my red shoes) so perfectly with this photo.

Tuesday, June 10

how much is that doggie in the window?


I've always wanted to take this photo, but somehow it looked cuter in my head.

Friday, June 6

day 10 or year 5, depending how you look at it



A mundane photo overly processed to look arty.

But there is a story behind this boring shot of a hospital waiting room.

Today, after more than five years of battling a mystery ailment known as livedoid vasculitis -- which left me almost bedridden for months, with horrendous scars and a healthy respect for pain -- my doctor finally told me I was in remission.

I don't have to see these pink chairs again until my next check-up in one year's time.

P.S. Day 10 refers to my progress in Project 365.

P.P.S. I want to spruce up my blog with a squeaky clean layout. Anyone has free templates? Or better, anyone wants to volunteer to do it for me?

Sunday, June 1

heung gong again


Back in Hong Kong for work. Tried to sneak in some time to source for fabric and take photos, but actual work and continuous drizzle got in the way.


Ah Sir, what you looking at? [Even though I was at the scene, I couldn't spot any crime.]


The bare-bodied man knew I had stuck my head inside and was frantically trying to tweak my aperture to shoot him at work in that super moody lighting, but he pretended not to notice. I was too shy to continue, so only have this one semi-presentable shot. I have absolutely no knack for shooting people.


I walked past two old men, shirts half opened, sitting in a doorway playing chess. I tried to ask them in broken Cantonese if I could shoot them and got rudely shouted at. "Ying meh ying!" yelled the grumpier one nearer to me. "Mo ying ah!" Perhaps if I had pleaded with the less grumpy one, I would have got the shot. So I take photos of inanimate objects instead.


Rained every single day. The spot in the middle is a fat drop of rain I got on my precious lens after pointing it skywards. But this is my fave shot of the lot anyway.

Tuesday, May 27

Day 1



On a whim, my twin and I decided to shoot a photo a day -- for 365 days. Follow my progress here.

Full of eager-beaverness, I ventured up to the rooftop garden of my office. Drats, it was raining. So this is my shot of the day.

Let's hope we make it to Day 365!

happy birthday, blog

Wah, so big already ah, five years old liow. Don't seem very different from the day you were born hor? Except that all this second-hand smoke has ruined your baby soft skin. Aiyoh, you badly need a facelift. And soon.

[Thanks, everyone, for reading and leaving kind comments over the years. Muaks!]

Monday, May 26

not a crumb left






Photos by the multi-talented and ever-supportive Mr TPL.

Realised I've been totally remiss in posting about my lurve's new venture. Without further ado, I present, Crummb.

Ask me about her cakes, and I won't be able to stop drooling about how good they look and, more importantly, how good they taste. I even committed the ultimate cake fox pass, when I devoured all the fondant decoration, that's how delish her baked goods are.

Drats, it's now past 3am and I'm in need of a sugar fix.

Thursday, May 22

say cheese


Grilled tomatoes with mozzarella

Sorry that this is turning into a third-rate food blog, but I've been playing with the new oven (and also the not-so-new camera). I want to master the art of food porn!

Forgot to mention in my previous post that while the mussels were dirt cheap at $1.71 for 41 (yes, I counted), the mozzarella was $8.99 for a chunk (I saw it as $2.99 and grabbed it, thinking it was good value. Duh).

So anyway, in a bid not to let the cheese go to waste, I found a recipe for grilled tomatoes with mozzarella. Again, dead easy and super yummy.

Preheat oven (grill function) to 150 deg C.

Slice four large tomatoes and place on a baking tray lined with aluminium foil. Sprinkle some salt on top.

Slice the cheese and place on top of tomatoes. Drizzle lightly with olive oil and season with coarse black pepper.


Just before popping the tray into the oven. (No self-respecting food pornographer would be seen in the oven door's reflection, but then I'm just a wannabe.)

Place under grill for 15 minutes (they look burnt in the photos, but trust me, they taste divine).

Let them cool a little before placing on a bed of salad greens. Drizzle balsamic vinegar before serving.

Tuesday, May 20

flexing my mussels


Thwarted in my attempt to have sambal mussels last night at No Signboard at VivoCity -- turns out the super yummy $15 dish is only available at its Geylang restaurant -- I started surfing the net for recipes to make my own.

Somehow, I got sidetracked by baked mussels with garlic, butter and cheese. How can anyone resist that deadly combination? So I modified the online recipe and made these babies instead.

It's dead easy.

Soak mussels in salt water and clean and debeard them. Throw any opened shells away.

Preheat oven -- New oven! Yay! -- to about 120 deg C. Line baking tray with aluminium foil.

Put a large pot of water to boil on the stove.

Mince garlic and mix with butter at room temperature. Cut thin slices of mozzarella cheese, one per mussel.

When water comes to a boil, throw in the mussels and cover the lid for a couple of minutes till the shells open.

Remove the mussels from the water and open them, leaving the meat on half a shell.

Put a dollop of garlic butter and top with a slice of mozzarella.

Bake for 15 minutes.

Next time, I'm going to try making the stir-fry sambal version. Hopefully it will be as yummy as this.

Tuesday, May 13

manual labour

Since my twin has already posted her photos from our field trip last Saturday, I think I better get off my lazy ass and get mine up, too.

Being twins, we were both naturally bored by the Bugis Street scene. Us shallow twins like pretty, not gritty, things. And it was only natural that we ended up shooting the same things. The only reason I don't have a snap of the overgrown Ne Zha was because I actually scurried away in great fear that she -- he? -- might actually bestow some blessing upon me.

Out of 7,423 shots, only this handful are deemed suitable for human consumption.


Token shot of the back alley. A security guard came up to us and wanted to know if we were terrorists planning an attack. Well, not in those exact words.


Mannequins with no torsos.


Mannequins with no taste.


A wheel.


More wheels.


At this point, I believe I muttered under my breath to my twin -- so that Biceps Man a.k.a. our instructor wouldn't overhear -- that Ah Loon or Foo Shoo would surely be able to shoot some spectacular pix. Unlike us.


I'm lousy at taking photos of people -- the few I attempted are blah to the max -- so I shoot inanimate objects instead.


The prettiest things, by a long shot, were the lotus flowers. Hence, so many shots of them. I may even try growing some myself, they are so elegant.


I never knew there were different colours of lotuses. Or rather, I didn't pay attention to their beauty previously.


They can look like onions.


Or lemons.


This is my second most fave shot. I didn't even realise that the temple mural depicted lotuses too until I downloaded the photos at home. Just shows how observant I am.


My ultimate fave photo wasn't even shot by me, but by my twin.

Sunday, May 11

best potato salad in the world


Photo of dish and dog courtesy of Mai Minshan

I'm sure you are familiar by now with my hyperbolic tendencies -- Ikea has the bestest chicken wings! My doggie is the cutest dog in the world! -- but trust me, this is the yummiest potato salad you will ever taste.

I first cobbled together the ingredients for my Lazy Labour Day party and on the spur of the moment, decided to roast the potatoes with the skin on instead of tediously peeling them and then boiling. Lazy lah.

The dish was such a hit that I didn't even get a chance to take a photo of it before it was all gone. Luckily, Ms Mai has replicated it, to rousing success.

Here's the recipe (before I forget how I threw it together):

Roasted potatoes with wasabi mayonnaise
Serves five greedy people

1 bag of washed potatoes from Cold Storage, cut into quarters
20 cloves of garlic, minced
A good glug of olive oil

Dressing (taste as you go along to gauge the explosion level):
A lot of Kewpie mayonnaise, and I mean a lot, like half a small bowl
Wasabi, agar agar 1 large spoonful
Splash of light soya sauce

Toppings (optional):
Chopped spring onions
Paprika
Japanese seven spices (not sure what it's called)
Ham
Bacon

Mix the above ingredients together in a big bowl. Place in a single layer (I had to do it in two batches) in oven toaster for 30 minutes, stirring the taters and rotating the tray mid-way through.

While potatoes are baking, mix the dressing ingredients well in a small bowl.

When the oven goes "ding!", take potatoes out and place in a large bowl to cool slightly before mixing the dressing thoroughly.

Top with the, erm, toppings and dig in.

(If you do make it, do take pix and send to me.)

Tuesday, May 6

three thousand words

Busy. Busy. Busy. So here's the week in pictures.


Second photography class. Why f/2.8 is larger than f/8 is beyond human comprehension. And don't ask me why, when the instructor said, "The shadow looks like a peace sign", I thought to myself, "Where got pee sai?"


Mother's birthday, just one day after the Sng clan had moved in. Super yum chocolate cake baked by TPL. Super unflattering photo shot by the one attending much-needed photography classes.


Despite all the moving and unpacking, the dog still needed to be walked, and this was what we saw plastered around the estate on our daily jaunt.

Friday, May 2

last night



The photo shows a very tired and famished girl, who nonetheless is still very gleeful to be at the happiest place on earth, devouring a $1 hotdog and buying cheap Malm drawers in preparation for the Big Move tomorrow. [Eagle-eyed readers will notice that something is different compared to this photo, shot just two hours earlier.}

Chip Bee Gardens will never be the same again once the Sng family takes over the very pink house.

Monday, April 21

about photos* (but without photos**)

Determined to take some photos in proper daylight of a pair of abandoned armchairs and a rattan chair I spotted last night while walking my doggie, I made the supreme effort to wake up half an hour earlier than usual to go out with my camera.

Naturally, doggie trotted along with me on my morning jaunt.

Barely two minutes after setting off, I came across a tripod standing on its three legs next to a garbage bin. Score! I'd been thinking of getting one for the little vanity project known as the Fashion Diary.

It looked a little dusty but seemed sturdy enough, so I toted it along -- leash in right hand, tripod in left hand, camera slung around neck.

First stop: Newly vacated unit one street away. Two moldy armchairs were locked in what can only be described as a Kama Sutra position on the pavement. Click click click.

Next stop: A perfectly good rattan chair sitting next to two garbage bins. Light seemed to bright and white, but I was still fiddling with aperture and what not, so just practised. Click click click.

As I was just snapping the lens cap back on, my doggie tugged me violently around. I turned and there was his brother Slanty -- yes, real-life brother, who lives a couple of streets away and is named Slanty for the diagonal scar on his forehead -- and the family maid.

My doggie lunged a few times futilely at his brother, not in a friendly way, more like a "I must attack this doggie that looks exactly like me except for the cool scar" way. Undeterred, I mimicked a camera snapping action to the maid, as I didn't have a pix of Slanty.

Just as I was in an unstable half squat, my doggie decided to do his mad lunge again. This time, I fell forward, head first onto the road. Luckily, I broke my fall with my hands. Even more fortunately -- now you see where my priorities lie -- my neck prevented the camera from plummeting to the ground.

Even though both my palms were now scraped raw and bleeding, and I was still sitting in an undignified heap on the roadside, I just had to smack doggie's rump. He was still straining against his leash at Slanty, who was a good 2m away, watching the whole spectacle like an innocent bystander.

After an eternity, I finally managed to get up -- not easy when you are trying to control a mad dog, prevent a camera from strangling you, and cannot use your palms to push on the ground. I waved weakly to the maid, who probably would have a good tale to tell her ma'am later.

But all was not lost. As I hobbled home, all the while muttering "bad doggie, bad doggie", I noticed that my next door neighbour's flowers were in bloom. There was even a little bee buzzing around. Click click click.

My morning photography field trip wasn't a complete waste after all. In fact, it was rather fruitful: the tripod is now wiped clean and in perfect condition, ready for self-timer photo shoots.

Maybe tomorrow, I should try again to shoot a pix of Slanty. Who knows what else I may pick up along the way?

* Almost forgot to include this very exciting news. My twin and I are going on a photography course together, starting next week. Got field trips and mini exhibition at the end of the eight-week course. Squeal!

** Lazy to put up photos. Blogger will only allow me to upload one at a time and it's too trying.

Sunday, April 20

a long day's night

9am: Wake up to face being washed by dog's tongue
11am: Set off for the shop
12pm: Quick lunch of chee cheong fun and beancurd drink
12.30pm: Pack the back area of shop and rearrange furniture for Swirl Swap Swop
2pm: Swirl Swap Swop starts, manage to bag two dresses and a pair of heels
4pm: Pack up four huge bags of leftover clothes and clean up cupcake crumbs
6.30pm: Lug bags of clothes home to be donated to church in JB
7pm: Walk and play with dog
7.30pm: Shower and repair make-up for Girls' Night Out
8.30pm: Dinner at Persimmon with CC, CO, HC, LG and TPL
11pm: Attempt to adjourn to Link Hotel bar for a drink
11.01pm: Escape from bar full of lecherous men, strange Mandarin yodelling and putrid smell of dried puke
12am: Lychee bellini at Mimolette
1.30am: Play Rockstar on Playstation. Fail miserably at being the drummer of The Swirls
2am: Spur of the moment decision to go to Mustafa to buy some baby bangles and bath brush with natural bristles
4am: Unable to find brush in the behemoth 24-hour store, but end up with cheap vitamins, tongue scrapers and magic sponges
4.30am: Loud overjoyed greeting from dog at front door
5am: Shower and collapse in bed after tottering around in killer heels the whole day

Thursday, April 17

itadakimasu



A good rummage through my fridge turned up these Japanese goodies...



...Which I then cobbled together [except for the mayo, too rich] into a super yummy, low carb and healthy dinner.

Century egg with tofu and pickles, drenched with sesame-wasabi dressing, and cold shirataki noodles with soba sauce. All topped with freshly-chopped spring onions.

All that was missing was ice-cold Choya.

Tuesday, April 15

you've got mail

I've always expressed a wish to marry a rich old man, and I think the universe has finally heard my plea and given me half of it, sort of. On top of penning me an e-mail, this old man has also found me on Facebook and poked me. Ewww. And now there is a pending Friend Request. Double ewww.

Oh, and how do I know he's an old man and not, say, someone tall dark and handsome? His Facebook profile states he was born in 1953. That's three years younger than my Dad. Triple ewww.

Edited-to-protect-this-blog-from-being-traced-back-to-him version of his e-mail below [I've left his translated-from-Chinese English intact though]:

Dear Suzanne

Hi, I read your article on George Clooney, it strikes me that you are perceptive to the predicament of being the girl friend of George, an element which I seldom see from the Strait Times group of writers.

I searched the internet and followed your footstep to Facebook and being induced to the crime of face-stalking ha ha :)

Your trip to St Paul de Vence's, and other places indicated that you are a person who enjoy spontaneous urge in life for quality enjoyments. May be we can talk about Australia, Paris, London, and 40+ cities of USA, which to me are more a series of bitter-sweet encounters.

Your takes on Friend-in-law are very readable, let's say I really get to enjoy your brain juice.

I spent too much time in consulting and IT business writing in Business English... therefore my literally releases are mostly bilingual :)

[Website address removed.]

This is a small part of my works testing how popular I can be in pop-culture of blogging.

I kind of assume most of the high IQ creative-people are bilingual nowadays.

Let see whether we have the 缘分 to be friend.

Sunday, April 13

a very pink house





Project Smitten mag did a shoot of my very pink house last year and the spread has finally appeared in its latest issue. Mousey's place was also shot recently, so watch out for it in, oh, six months' time. [The text is legible if you click on the pix to enlarge it. And you can also see how adorable my doggie is.]

It looks so much better in pictures than in real life -- no balls of dog hair rolling around, no armies of ants marching up and down the window sill, no unwashed dishes or unmade beds. But actually I love it, dog hair, ants and all.

But due to my landlord being an opportunistic money-grabbing bastard [my rent will go up by a frigging unbelievable 70% in June] and both my housemates moving out [one to London to work, another to cheaper digs], I have been forced to consider the following options:

a) Look for two new housemates and pass on the rental hike to them
b) Sell off all my worldly possessions, which I have a lot, and move home with 500 boxes until HDB allows me to buy my own place when I turn 35
c) Get my parents to rent out their place [can fetch a good price, apparently] and move in. The best option in my opinion, except that my mum is against it.

All are not without their pros and cons. And I'm running out of time, as I need to renew my lease by the end of the month.

Headache.

Saturday, April 12

may the shampoo last for a long long time


Out of the blue, I received an email from my former housemate C -- she's the Brit gal who used to teach at a special needs school here but then moved on to teach in Dubai sometime last year. [There was some drama and heartbreak over a callous expat guy here who turned out to be married and a soccer yob she met in the UK when she went back for a break.]

In the breathless email with no punctuation marks, she announced that she had met a "very handsome dark young Lebanese guy" and they got married last month. She had also left her job and gone back to the UK with him.

To put the timeline in perspective: I am still washing my hair with the giant bottle of shampoo she abandoned only half used when she left.