The New (Temporary) Member of the Family

Life has changed over the weekend. The Husband and I now have a crippling addiction to the awesome game, Plants Vs Zombies, and there is a new member to our small household -- a cat. Well, to be sure, it's a temporary resident that is renting our common toilet for about 2 months, but still, it's an adjustment for us.

Pre-cat era, The Husband and I languish in bed in the mornings until it's absolutely crucial to get up to get to work at all; now we get up earlier to change kitty litter, give it some food and affection, sweep up the scattered kitty litter around the bathroom floor and let it roam around the house. Pre-cat era, we didn't care what time we got home, as long as we get some sleep that night; now, we make sure we're home earlier to pander to the needs and wants of Queen Cat, clearing up her mess and giving her affection according to her demands.

My mum, the faithful Nagger and Naysayer, tells me that my house will be covered in fur and given the track record I've had with housework, she predicts that the value of my flat will depreciate drastically due to the fur and cat smell that will linger on til Kingdom comes. My dad says, with both hands raised, "as long as it remains YOUR problem and not MY problem."

I asked friends who keep cats, how do they deal with the fur? The most honest answer I've gotten is: "Cats and fur come together. Don't fight it, it's not worth it. Fur always wins." Well, now.

How did the cat end up on our lap? A friend of a friend has a housing issue and needs to keep the cat somewhere temporarily. My friend then asked me if I'd like to keep itand I said ok, let's give it a try. I honestly don't know why he approached me in the first place, since I've never kept any pets, and the only time I've demonstrated any affinity to cats is when I pet strays. Coincidentally, a few weeks earlier, I was smsing The Husband, saying that in this lifetime, it'll be nice to have kept a dog, a cat, and to raise about two kids. So when the opportunity came to test drive this dream, we took it!

Some fun facts:
- The cat is named Mimi, but The Husband wants to rename it "Cleopatra, The Sun Goddess", inspired by the regal way she claimed the kitchen rug for herself when she reclined on it.
- It looks an awful lot like Puss from Shrek, especially the gorgeous green eyes.
- It likes to squeeze inside shoeboxes, low shelves and dark corners. It's also partial to hiding behind curtains. SO ADORABLE.

In the mean time, I've got friends who are now asking to visit to see the cat. Not because they want to visit us. Because. Of. The Cat. It makes me wonder about the friends we have and the company we keep.

Happy birthday to Mum!

It's my mum's birthday today.

I remember one fateful year, on a particularly bad day at home when everyone was stepping on everyone's toes and yelling matches between my mum and I escalated to total icy silence at the dinner table, punctuated by the obligatory banging of bowls to signify how angry we both were, which was suddenly broken when she started crying silently. *Stunned, guilty, very very guilty silence.* And she finally stammered out "It's... my birthday today. And nobody remembered."

O_O

*frantic secret smses to the Brother, who was out on a date, saying "COME HOME NOW EMERGENCY BUY CAKE MUM'S BDAY NO ONE REMEMBERED. HURRY SHE'S CRYING."*

You bet your last dollar that we'll remember her birthday every darn year from then on. And you bet we overcompensated the following year, replete with an expensive surprise birthday cake at Grandma's and many many hugs and kisses and well wishes. Of course, every year she would remind us of the horrible time when we forgot her birthday, but that's another story altogether.

So I'd just like to put it on record that I have the best mum in the world, who taught me not to waste time on self pity, who taught me to always look on the bright side of things and to be positive no matter what. The mum who taught me the importance of lovely bags and shoes, and demonstrated how a wardrobe full of classic pieces is more lasting and classy than trendy cheap chic clothes. I've also picked up bad habits from her, such as sleeping really late and obsessively trying to top our personal Bejewelled high scores. I've inherited her sweet smile and short stumpy legs, as well as her love for nail polish and several of her branded bags. I can't imagine my world without her and am proud to call her my mum.

Happy birthday mum. I love you!

CNY Craziness (My Dad Wants Out.)

CNY is so much work, I cannot believe it. Spring cleaning is a way to get me the toned arms I've always wanted, but it ruins nails like nothing else can. Oh, and the whole giving ang-paos business? After a while, you'll just get immune to dishing out cash.

Supermarkets and wet-markets are jam packed with people; nail-salons and hair salons have all jacked up their prices by 20-40%, the opportunists that they are; and my dad is running my errands for me. Oh, the spoilt princess that I am.

Me: *in my sweetest voice* Dad, are you going to buy groceries these few days?
He: Yes I am. Why?
Me: I'm stuck at work. Can you possibly help me get some stuff?
He: Ok can. Sms me what you want.
Me: *via sms* can u help me buy this, this, this, that & the other? oh n some more of etc etc...

(1 hour later...)

Me: *over the phone* Have you received my sms?
He: Yes.
Me: How? Can?
He: I thought you have a market downstairs? Why can't you get some of it?
Me: ... Ok can, I'll get it on Saturday.
He: ... Saturday? But... Saturday...
*pause*
He: Ok ok I get what I can for you. After that I resign from being your daddy! I don't want to be your daddy anymore! Ok bye.
*click... doot... doot...*

Dates with Daddy

My dad and I have this lil tradition that we started early this year or so. As our spouses typically don't enjoy western fine dining as much as we do, we date each other out to check out such places or simply when there is a craving, and we take turns to pay for the meal.

For the recent Father's Day, I brought him to a place I was dying to check out: Au Petite Salut, where he had the executive set lunch ($58++) and I had the usual set lunch ($30++).

His menu:
Starter -- Fois Gras. Exceedingly generous portions. I had a good chunk of it from his plate.
Main -- Duck Confit. Best I've tried, but considering I've tried like 3 in my lifetime, I may not be the best judge. Still, it's good stuff -- crispy round the edges, juicy and tasty.
Dessert -- Cheese platter. Not the best choice, considering how rich his other courses were, but they gave a great selection and generous portions.

My menu:
Starter -- Garlic butter escargot. Slather the garlic butter on toast and you'd be so happy.
Main -- Red wine braised beef cheeks
Dessert -- Profiteroles (choux pastry with vanilla ice cream, choc sauce and slivers of almonds.) Their profiteroles are TO DIE FOR. The best part of the meal, IMHO, was the profiteroles.

Details of the gluttony aside, what we really enjoyed was the father-daughter bonding that it allowed. As we were having a French meal, he told me of his travels to France (tales which he told me like a thousand times, but it's alright, it's good to cherish these moments while we still have them) and how his colleague / friend taught him how to save money in Paris by eating at where the students hang out, rather than where the tourists hang out. All these while shooting comments like "Cut the food with your elbows close by your side! So unlady-like!" at me. *roll eyes affectionately*

Just last week, we had another such outing. This time, we went for Italian food as he was hankering after a good pizza. After some consideration, we went to Riccioti by the Riverwalk where we had a salad, a sandwich and a pizza, all excellent.

As I think about my own relationship with my dad, it amazes me that it is what it is today, considering how 10 years ago, it was the polar opposite. I would never imagine in a million years that I would be having dinner alone with him, VOLUNTARILY. The only reason I can attribute this change to, is that I started going to church regularly at about the same time after having gone through my own personal crisis. I guess when change happens within, it's a matter of time before relationships around you start to change as well.

My dad's hair is graying and I can see his age reflected in the lines around the eyes as well as his sagging skin. I'm just thankful for the time we can spend together, enjoying one meal at a time. He's my best daddy in the world, and may your dad be your best daddy ever, too.

RIP, Frank McCourt

When I heard about the author, Frank McCourt's death, the first thing I thought about was how my dad was the one who introduced me to his book, Angela's Ashes. Following which, I chanced upon its sequel, 'Tis, and bought it for my dad. I enjoyed both books immensely, giving me a glimpse into the childhood of a poor boy born to an alcoholic and his growing up years in a Catholic environment.

The next thought that struck me was how my dad was instrumental in shaping me to be who I am today... not that I'm a particularly fine specimen of an offspring, but still :P

I called him during my lunch break...

Me: Dad?
He: Quirkie? What's up?
Me: Nothing. You heard about Frank McCourt?
He: Yeah! He passed away. I was just about to tell your mum about the news! How did you hear about it?
Me: Through the internet...
He: You're at home or at work?
Me: At work lah...
He: Wah... you one eye on the internet, one eye at work huh?
Me: :P
He: He wrote Angela's Ashes and 'Tis, which I introduced to you right?
Me: Yeah, you did.
He: I introduce good books to you right?
Me: Yeah, you do =) So sad (about his death) right?
He: What's there to be sad about? Nothing lasts forever!
Me: Well, still...
He: One day your daddy will also die ok!
Me: Then I'll be even more sad!
He: Hrmph. Well ok I gotta go now. Bye!
Me: Bye!

Indeed. My dad introduced the pleasures of reading Reader's Digest and incessantly tested me on Word Power, tirelessly proclaiming "It pays to increase your word power!". He scolded me when I was young for not reading the news and showed me articles in Herald Tribune that covered controversial issues in Asia that were conveniently left out in our local press. He bought books from 2nd hand bookshops that were closing down and lugged them home whenever he went on trips. I never lacked reading materials because he loved reading, and he passed the habit on to me. I didn't always appreciate how he tried to share his thoughts by sharing his books, sometimes I would shove them back in his face. It was only much later when he made a chance remark that "when I share good books with you, I'm trying to share my views with you ok!" that I realised how the rejection was personal :P

Reading Angela's Ashes is like sitting with Frank over many meals, listening to him sharing stories from his past. At least, his stories are captured and recorded and enjoyed by many around the world, and they are an experience that my dad and I have shared.

Thanks, dad, for sharing your books with me.

Kaya, Made with Love

So the other day I was with my grandmother, learning how to make kaya from the very best. I had an afternoon off and we had fixed this appointment earlier.

In the morning, I went with my dad to the wet market, getting the requisite ingredients for this coconut custard / egg jam that is so dearly loved in this part of the world. My grandma specifically requested for coconut milk, the freshly squeezed kind, not the off-the-shelf packets that are much more accessible. That vital ingredient was not available in the wet markets in my neighbourhood, so I said with great bravado, "Why not buy 3 freshly grated coconuts instead? I'll squeeze them!!" and so my grandma said "very well, you shall squeeze."

So I went to her place and realised that the recipe called for 4 coconuts... She bought 1 grated coconut already. Her original intention was to have the milk of 3 coconuts, and the 4th coconut was to be squeezed with grounded pandan leaves to extract the fragrance and flavour of the pandan. Oh, so it's 4 coconuts I'm squeezing. Very well, it shouldn't be too difficult.

By the 3rd coconut, my fingers were fixed into a clawing position and could not readily straighten. When I was done, my hands were stiff and sore, and I was crying out for mercy. My grandma simply laughed and me, and my mum gloated and said "when grandma asks for squeezed coconuts, listen to her, she knows better." Squeezing coconuts truly isn't a piece of cake.

Kaya making is labour and time intensive, but the taste of home-made kaya is so worth it. Best to do it with someone you love =) Then at least the time spent will be enjoyable ; ) This recipe is the old school way of doing it, I'm sure that a quick google search will churn out more convenient and fuss free ways of getting this done. Enjoy!

****
Ingredients:
- Milk of 3 coconuts
- 1 freshly grated coconut
- 2 small bundles of pandan leaves
- 15 small eggs
- 800g brown sugar
- 1tbs potato starch

1. Pulse 1 bundle of the pandan leaves in a blender until fine. Mix it in with the grated coconut, squeeze to extract milk and juice. Mix with the other coconut milk, strain it (Grandma says, important to strain it otherwise the loose bits of coconut in the milk will mess the texture).

2. Whisk the eggs and sugar together by hand, in 1 direction only (Grandma says, do not change directions halfway as it won't be as smooth. Grandma also says, whisking by machine produces too much bubbles and makes it harder to steam later. Grandma is wise, do as she says) for 30min until all sugar has dissolved. My arms nearly dropped off, but hey, no pain no gain.

3. Slowly add the strained coconut and pandan mixture to the egg mixture. Whisk for another 15min.

4. Put the mixture in a double boiler and continue to whisk in the same direction until the mixture starts to thicken to the consistency of cream, about 20min.

5. Dissolve the potato starch in water, add into mixture. Stir some more.

6. Add the 2nd small bundle of pandan leaves into the mixture. Stir some more. about 20min.

7. After the mixture thickens to a consistency of a gravy, cover the double boiler and leave it to heat for 1 hour, stirring maybe once in that hour.

8. After 1 hour, remove the container and portion out the kaya according to your relatives and friends =) I had 7 bottles portioned out. Nice =D

For a much easier recipe that doesn't involve stirring for hours over a hot stove, do check out this link: http://thelazychef.wordpress.com/2006/09/02/nonya-kaya/

=D

Junk Mailed.

My mum just called me asking me for my email address, so that she can send me junk emails delightful emails of doggies doing cutesie tricks and nifty cooking methods, or ominous warnings about microwaving your food.

I gave her my gmail account and then she complained "Why is it you never send me anything interesting like that? I take the effort to send you all these good stuff and all you do is ignore me! Not a single email from you!", conveniently ignoring the fact that 1. we meet for dinner at least once a week, 2. I call her every other day when we don't meet for dinner, 3. I stay within a 5min drive / 15min walk from her.

My name is QuirkieKai, and my mum is a spammer.

Weekend Baking Part Deux

I had a list of recipes to try out over the weekend, but decided to not be overly ambitious when I'm baking to give away. I needed to bake 2--1 for my family gathering on Sunday, and another for Intuition's family when I join them for the Mother's Day lunch celebrations. During times like that, you simply have to resort to tried and tested recipes.

I baked 2 orange cakes on Saturday mornings and things went well... I ran out of self raising flour and found a jar of flour at home, leftover from one of my brother's cooking projects. Just to be sure, I asked him,"Eh, confirm this is multi-purpose flour har? Not corn flour right?" He said "yah yah confirm chopped guarantee, it's multi purpose flour". Satisfied, I added half a cup of that flour for the cake.

After baking the cakes and going about my tasks for the rest of the day, I decided to end the day with an attempt at baking cookies. Cookies seem easy enough, going by all accounts of the online reviews for a recipe I had in mind. Pour everything in a bowl, mix, bake for 10min. Easy peasy, and I'd be done within 30min. Cool.

30 min later, I was still figuring out the measurements of the cookies.

45 min later, I managed to get 2 trays into the oven.

55 min later, I stared at the tray where the cookies have expanded and melded into one another, forming a nice bulbous cookie sheet. Sigh. Well nevermind, I'm sure they'll taste great, as the online reviews have promised. I took it out and let it cool for a while before breaking a bit off the cookie sheet. The texture looked dodgy, but maybe the taste test will prove it otherwise. *Munch munch*

The taste was great--intensely chocolatey and not too sweet. Delish. But the texture... it's both too dry and too soggy, if there's such a thing. The edges were almost powdery, the centre portions are soft and malleable... it doesn't hold a shape at all. *Downcast* Man oh man... I can't even get a simple drop cookie right. Everyone else said it's easy, but why does mine end up so disastrous? What a perfect waste of sugar and butter. So sad.

My brother came home and laughed at my baking failure (reminder to self: failure is an event, not a person. Repeat.) and took a bite... like a shining beacon of light, he said "the taste is not bad! not bad at all... just that the texture a bit wrong. I'll eat it for breakfast." and I said "Oh thank you thank you... please help me eat up my baking tragedy, I'm so grateful."

This morning, I whined to my brother "Sigh, there must be something wrong with the ingredients. I followed the recipe quite faithfully leh... You know, the flour looks strange to me. You sure it's multi purpose flour?" He thought about it, and declared "You know you're right! IT IS CORN FLOUR!"

...

My cakes had a bit of corn flour in them. One cake went to my family gathering--a family of food snobs, and another went to Intuition's family. The family took a look at my cake and commented that it's sunken, it's a bit more dense, etc... I don't know what to say, except to glare at my brother each time a negative comment came my way. He even had the cheek to say "It's the baker's fault!"

May I just reiterate the fact that my brother is a doofus.

Oh the agony...

The other day, my parents and I squeezed into a really small and rickety lift with several other strangers. My dad was the last one to step into the already packed lift. Everyone was facing the door, but he was facing the crowd as there wasn't any space for him to turn around. Being the beer lover that he is, there is a sizable pot-belly sticking out in front of him. God truly has a sense of humor, for right in front of my dad was another pot-bellied middle aged guy, so they both sucked it up and tried not to get in each other's way too much.

Somewhere along the way of my dad's ~60 years of existence, he has lost all sense of self-consciousness and is no longer bothered with socially acceptable behaviour. While we were all trying to study our shoes or the ceiling in the cramped conditions of the lift, my dad decided to steal the show by:
1. making obvious sucking noises as he sucked up his beer gut
2. squinting his eyes closed, with the rest of his face contorted into an exaggerated grimace, bared teeth and all
3. raising his arms and crossing it comically at his chest level, with elbows sticking out unnaturally
4. grinning at the rest of the people trying not to stare at him
I was aghast and stared at him in disbelieve, trying to telepath him "STOP! ACT NORMAL! NOW!" but there must've been a wall in between us, intercepting my frantic brain signals to him.

Ok it's not so bad, he's just acting silly, the lift will reach its destination soon enough, I thought. And I rolled my eyes at him when he looked at me with that grin / grimace plastered onto his face. And he grinned back.

And then...

He started chuckling while looking at my mum and I, with the both of us by this time staring studiously at our shoes.

Awkward.

Then he started pointing to my mum and I, commenting to everyone in the lift "These 2 same. Both got big heads."

Dear dad, this is not a good time to point out how much mum and I look alike and that we both have rather large cranial cavities--but that's cos we've got big brains. Really, no. Stop. I know you love us both and you are always amused by how much we look alike, but no, please, not now.

Unbelievably, the commentary continues...
"Heh heh heh. These two same shape, but different contents."
All this while belly to belly with a stranger, arms crossed comically with the grimace / grin plastered on his face.

A heavy silence settles in the lift with no one making a sound, as the crowd decides to fixate further on their shoes / ceiling. You can almost hear me blush.

Dear God, please, let there be a black hole to swallow me up NOW. I'm sorry for all the times I was a brat and threw a tantrum in public, I'm sorry for all the times I talked back to my parents, I'm sorry for the numerous times my parents got summoned to see the teachers for my various misdeeds, but isn't this a tad harsh? A black hole will be most merciful, thank You very much.

And lo, the lift door opens and the people shuffled out quietly. God answers prayers.

"Chap Goh Meh"

21 Feb 2008 the 15th day of Chinese New Year, and at this time of posting, CNY 08 is officially over. Work and life can go on as per normal now.

In keeping with the Chinese tradition, we gathered at my grandmother's place for a veritable feast. Let your eyes feast on the spread; I promise you it tastes better than it looks here:


My grandma is the best cook, ever =) She's also got incredibly green fingers. I had a whale of a time photographing her potted plants. Alas, I don't do her plants justice. View the full photo set here.

Fate

He was a boyish looking, honest young man with a generous heart and a goofy grin.

She was a pretty girl with a warm smile and a helpful, friendly nature.

He didn't know how to write in Mandarin, and needed to apply for a visa for his mother so that he could bring her for a much needed holiday.

She was Chinese educated, spoke the language fluently and was working as a clerk in the Immigration Office.

He asked her for help, she helped. Their paths crossed but nothing happened and they went on their separate ways. All in a day's work.

She went down to The Capitol Building after work to check out the movie timings. She was supposed to meet a friend to watch the latest block-buster in town, but alas, it was sold out. She called her friend to explain the situation, her friend didn't want to watch any other movie, so it became a non-event. Shrugging it off, she left the ticketing area.

He was in town settling some errands. Afterall, he'd just quit his job in Singapore and was relocating back to Malaysia. He felt like catching a movie, maybe some of his friends will be free. The nearest public phone was... at The Capitol Building. He walked there briskly.

As fate would have it, none of his friends were free. Looks like he'll have to catch the movie alone. Walking to the ticketing area, he saw a familiar face and was greeted with the same friendly smile that made an impression on him earlier that day.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?"
"Ok."

=)

And that was how the Malaysian boy met the Singaporean girl, fell in love, got married within 1 year. 1 year after that, I was born. 3 years after me, my brother was born.

As I grilled my parents about what made them do the whole long-distance relationship thing, here are some soundbytes from them:

"When I first met your dad he looked like a silly boy. *grin* But we talked like long time friends, like we've known each other for a long time. So like that lor."

"Your mum ah... who see also will like one. I was a good boy and wanted to bring my mother for a holiday... I ended up getting a wife. *grin* "

*****
Lesson Du Jour:
Guys, take a risk and ask that sweet girl out for a drink.
Gals, take a risk and accept that date from the honest looking guy. (hmm maybe that's not really risky behaviour afterall ;) )

Happy Valentine's Day =)
*****

In My Father's House

Going back to a sleepy small town that has not changed in the 15years that I've not visited, I came to understand the person who is my father more.

It is the town of Parit, an hour's drive away from Ipoh and 7-9hours drive away from Singapore, depending on whether you have pit stops for meals along the way. In that town, there are no cinemas, shopping malls, internet cafes and supermarkets. The neighbours all know one another, the houses and cars hardly ever change, the next generation grows up and leaves but always comes back to visit and childhood friends meet up there like they've never left.

When I was younger (read: 20years ago. good gosh.), visiting the small town of Parit was an annual affair that I didn't look forward to. It was partly due to the long arduous drive back: 7hours from KL, going by the Old Road. Now, with the North-South Highway, the time is halved and the journey is much smoother. We used to have to replace a tire each time we drive back due to the various brick and bracks on the uneven roads. The place is old and not very entertaining for a child, except for little chicks to terrorize and good food. We used to stay for 2 days, maybe 3, and be pampered and doted upon by the relatives throughout. Of course as a child used to indulgences, I took these for granted and never gave it a second thought.

This year, my dad is free during the CNY period for the first time in donkey years and my family managed to take leave from our various commitments to head down after being absent for an embarrassingly long time. We packed books, mp3 players, a sense of impending boredom and drove 7-9hours there. I didn't know what to expect: will we feel out of place, city folks in a small town? will I be bored out of my mind with no internet? will there be anything to talk about?

After a long, winding drive and several pitstops, we finally pulled up into the dark driveway of a dilapidated house that did not change one bit in all the years we've not visited, and my aunty opened the door and welcomed us like VIPs with an affection and sincerity that made us feel so at home. And it was like that for the rest of the days. My aunties and uncles cooked dishes that they've not cooked for years just so that we can have a taste of it. Cousins we've met at most two or three times in our lives treated us like we're long lost siblings. They brought us all over the area and kept urging us to visit more often. By the end of the trip, my family was sad to leave and it was a tearful and emotional parting at the driveway.

I got reacquainted with the habit of driving at least 1 hour to find good food. The 2nd day we were there, my dad's childhood friend brought us to a seafood joint that was 50km away from where we stayed. 50km! It is like travelling the whole length of Singapore, and that's just one way. It was like that for the rest of the meals we had there: 40min is a short drive, 1hour is standard, 2hours is slightly long.

I began to realise that our royal treatment wasn't so much due to the fact that they hardly see us nor because I am so incredibly lovable (which I am, honest. at times. I hope.), but because my dad is incredibly loved in his home, and they love us so much because of him. Kind of reminds me of how God accepts us thoroughly because of Jesus =)

Going back to my dad's hometown and family, I began to understand how he is the person he is--a simple man with simple, solid values of filial piety and being kind and giving to others, because his brothers and sister-in-laws are as such. I understood better why he doesn't enjoy Singapore's landscape when his childhood was spent in a town with a river running by his backdoor and mountain ranges surrounding it for miles on end. I also began to see why he sometimes find the Singaporean society abrasive for his sensitive nature: small town folks are a close knitted community and are incredibly hospitable. Relationships are held in extremely high regards and people appraoch one another without hidden agendas.

In my father's house, the furniture did not change in decades and the toilet apparently is the same since his childhood, making it at least half a century old. The people in there have gone through phases in life, some heart-wrenching, some quietly joyful. The abundant love there reserved always for my father makes it his home no matter his age and his whereabouts.

(Photos of my Ipoh trip are uploaded into my flickr account. Feel free to browse.)

Updates and Snippets

1. Switchfoot Concert
I love 'em, love 'em, love 'em! Even though I felt like an aunty in the moshpit with the bulk of the concert goers being 10years younger than me (school bags on the floor... students in school uniform.. what gives?!), I had no regrets going for this concert =) Their stage presence is fantastic and they sound better LIVE than in the CD. Love the way they transit between the songs, love their pauses and perfectly synchronised timings, love everything about them. I want to marry the lead singer's brother.

Intuition didn't enjoy the concert as much as I did though :P wonder why... :P haha.. okay I'd better not push my luck here ; )

2. Eating in Ipoh
My family will be driving up to Ipoh this CNY to spend time with my dad's side of the family. 8-9hour car rides ain't no fun. Am currently frantically updating my mp3 player's playlist. 1000songs and counting. I do wonder how I'm going to manage for 5 whole days without internet access at my beck and call, so I'm bringing some books and a nice notebook to entertain myself. Am also looking forward to some quiet and slow living, as well as a tonne of good food. Ipoh is food paradise. Some things on my eat-list: Ipoh coffee (duh!), Ipoh horfun, Ipoh fried noodles, paos, dimsum, seafood etc.

Hope to get some good pictures too, with my lil powershot =) Will be back on Thursday, so hopefully I'll get some time to post something about my visit back there =)

3. Movies
27 Dresses: Great chick flick =) Some found it rather slow but I really enjoyed it! The hunk is totally delicious and droolworthy, but that's quite besides the point.

Sweeney Todd: Gore, blood, gore, blood, gore. Spent half the time covering my eyes and then peeping at the cinema screen then closing my eyes, especially when the shiny, glinting, smooth razor blade hovers over pale, soft, vulnerable necks. I hate the sight of gushing / spurting / squirting blood. Completely dark and fantastic art direction, as always, Mr Tim Burton. I love your works, but this is a bit hard for me to stomach. Especially the meat pies. Ugh.

Ah Long Pte Ltd: I WANNA WATCH! MUST WATCH! Love Mark Lee's Malaysian accent =)

4. Food
Found a fantastic place to eat great Korean food at fairly reasonable prices near Tanjong Pagar. I had the best bi bim bab I've had in Singapore *smacks lips* and really authentic Korean ginseng chicken. Must go back and take some pictures as well as post the address. Rabbitsense, if you're reading this, it's worth going down to during lunch =) Pretty generous portions too.

Found a disgusting place to NOT eat at. The cafe should do us all a favour and not serve food... please stick with the too-sweet-drinks and dry-cardboard desserts. Your food should not be even called food. Soggy microwaved fries that tastes of stale oil and cold, overcooked pasta are the stuff of my nightmare. Galilee Cafe at Bedok Library, I'm looking at you.

Have a great Chinese New Year and eat some pineapple tarts on my behalf! If there are any golfball pineapple tarts available, save some for me =) Gracias!

Simple Pleasures in Life: Routines

"Quirkie, wake up or you're going to be late for work! I'm going to leave the house in 1 minute, so you have exactly 1 minute to get ready to go for work! Otherwise I'll go off without you!"
*10 minutes later*
"Quirkie what are you doing? 1 minute is up! I'm going out of the house now har! NOW HAR! See you downstairs."



*in the car*

"Where would you like to go for breakfast? I don't feel like eating anything lah. Ever since I came back, I've been getting fat. You eat lah, I won't eat anything. *fiddles with radio* Don't listen to that brainless stuff *tunes away from whatever local morning show was on* Listen to BBC. The British speaks very good English. Their pronounciation is very good. Ok ok don't talk to me, I want to listen to what's on radio."



*in the coffee shop*

"Eh I ordered fishball noodles. You help me eat some hor?"



*somehow, sometime during the morning*

"When will you buy me a bungalow? I will think that you have made it in life if you can buy me a bungalow."
Har? Property in Singapore very expensive leh. I buy you a bungalow in China can or not?
"No I want a bungalow. Your mum needs a bungalow for her to keep her pets in the garden! Nothing less than a bungalow. Otherwise you are a useless daughter!" *big wide toothy grin*
Dad, cannot lah, I cannot afford a bungalow in Singapore. Mansion in heaven, you want? Jesus offers us a mansion in Heaven =) Very BIG one! Got a lot of rooms =)
"Dowan. My daughter help me get brownie points with God can already right?"
No dad, cannot lah, this kind of thing cannot do for other people one. Must be your ownself want one.
"Hrmph."

Conversations that I've had with my dad that are almost routine by now. Just press play and repeat =)

Love is...

... not strangling the pet that:

- chewed through your PC power cable
- chewed through your standing lamp power cable
- wakes you up every morning the minute the alarm clock strikes (thereby depriving you of snoozing)
- claims your cozy chair as his own
- saw you put on your mouth guard every night, and one day decided that it must be yummy food, therefore chewed it up while you're at work...

... and then you pay $350 to replace said mouth guard.

That is how I know my cousin loves the Special Needs Dog, Junior.

But when it looks at you like that, it's hard not to melt and give it a great big hug, yes?

IT Girl

While walking to dinner, my hp rings. It's an overseas call.

Me: Hello?
He: Hey Quirkz ah, what you doing now?
Me: Dad? I'm going for dinner. Why?
He: Eh my computer... cannot shut down leh. Why har?
Me: What happened?
He: My computer hang lah... aiyah I need to access my email. The worker *mumblemumble* and cannot fix my computer. What must I do har? Press what, "shift", "control"..?
Me: Oh, it's "control, alternate, delete." Cannot lift up your fingers! Press control first...
He: Ok... con...trol... what's the next one?
Me: Alternate. Look for A.L.T. Have anot?
He: ... ah ok, A.L.T. is it?
Me: Yah. Now press those two buttons together and press delete.
He: ok... control.... alternate.. A.L.T. har? .. de...lete. Cannot leh.
Me: Ok, is there a power button to shut down your laptop?
He: Yah, but it's not working...
Me: Press and hold for a few seconds.
He: *pause* Ah ok ok. Thanks ah, now it shut down already.
Me: You ah! Never call me at all har, only when your PC needs help then you call me! I'm your IT helpline is it??
He: Heh heh! Yeah lah, at least you are slightly useful ok! Otherwise you won't be useful! Ok ok thanks, bye.

QuirkieKai, Daddy's Useful IT Helpdesk.

Geekdom

So I was talking with The Brother, and he mentioned F, a friend who is described as a "cool geek" by his colleagues, an oxymoron if I've ever heard one. And the conversation goes...

He: Oh, did I tell you that the girls in my church like geeks?
Me: Oh really? I also like geeks leh!
He: You like geeks right? You told me before that you like nerdy guys!
Me: YES. I'm doomed to a lifetime of unattractive offsprings. Help!
He: Do you know that they find F eligible? I was talking about F with the girls in my church this afternoon and they said if F were to ask them out for a meal, they'd go! And and if he were to date them, they'd say yes!
Me: Really? Seems like geeks are the 'in' thing now!
He: Yes sister, I'm 'out'. How? No wonder why I cannot find girlfriend!
Me: Yah man, your time is over. Snags are out, geeks are in!
He: Yah! I asked F how to become more geeky, he said it's easy, just spend the whole day at the computer, but I can't! When I stare at the PC screen, I feel the urge to do push-ups!
Me: *rolls eyes*
He: Or maybe I can tell them I spend my time on youtube! I youtube wrestling matches!
Me: *rolls eyes*
He: Do you know that Vince McMahon is my inspiration? *GRIN*
Me: Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Tell me you did not just say that. You DID NOT say that. No sibling of mine should have him as an inspiration!!
He: *crazed gleam in his eye* Yeah!
He: *starts quoting Vince McMahon, but by then my brain has turned to mush and I didn't register a word he said.*

My brother, the muscle man, geek-wannabe.

How I Woke Up At 11 Today

I woke up this morning to a loud, urgent rap on my door. Before I could halfway open my groggy eyes, my buffalo of a brother charged into the room, clapping his hands army style, shouting "WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUP!". Instinctively, I clutched my bolster and blanket closer to me, but he yanked it away mercilessly. Before my dignity can be further assualted, I sat upright in bed (as upright as I could in my semi comatose state) and waved the white flag.

It's like deja vu with role reversal. I have a doofus for a brother.

Relationship Building Activities

Growing up, my favourite past times evolved and developed, but they have largely remained the same.

I've always loved reading and writing, and I still do. My mum bought me a hard-cover and beautifully illustrated version of Aesop's fables when I was in Pri 1 and my aunties told her it was too chim for me, but I read it from cover to cover while she was away on holiday. Doodling and drawing have been in my blood since young, as can be told from the grafitti on walls and the scrawls in my textbooks from Pri school til college days, which landed me in trouble with some teachers. Oh, and an all time favourite: bullying and terrorizing my brother...

Oops, did I actually say that out loud?

My brother is almost 6foot tall and works out regularly, plus he's got my family's natural good looks (ahemz), so he is actually tall, dark and hemsem. But as a kid, he was smaller sized than me, plus I was rather strong for a girl my age way back then. As such, I'd use this physical advantage shamelessly to get my way and literally twisting his arm to get my way was not beneath me then. It's still not beneath me NOW, but seeing how big he is, I can't push him around anymore ; PP

He reckons that his interest in getting fit started with me pushing him around. Well now, that's food for thought :P Anyways, karma and retribution is biting me in my ample ass, for my brother frequently flaunts his flab-free-ness in my face and taunts me by jiggling my arms, poking my chubby tummy and scoffing at my thunder thighs.

Sample conversation:
Bro: Hey you, sis! What's this I see? *pinches my arm* Is that *in an incredibly mocking tone* faaaaats??
Me: OW! Be careful! I'm a delicate flower!

Bro: *Widened eyes and a visible sneer on his lips* Oh My Gosh! Look at that! It's your TUMMY?! *pokes*
Me: Hey! What's your problem huh, muscle-man??! You think you so good, huh??

Bro: *lying on the floor after doing about 25 diamond push-ups.. yes he's quite hardcore... and then he looks up at me standing near him* Sis! Your thighs! UGH! *closes his eyes and looks away dramatically*

So yes, I can't push him around anymore and he's milking it for all it's worth. I try punching him every now and then, but it doesn't quite have the same punch as it used to (+10points for pun here)--he swats me away like he would a gnat.

But there is something I can still do, and I do with great relish: I wake him up in the mornings. *cue thunder, lightning, evil laughter: muahahahahahahaaaa*

See, my poor brother is incapable of waking up before lunch time under normal circumstances (read: weekends. Weekdays are an anomaly in my world.), and waking up is a 30min long process for him. First, he drifts in and out of consciousness. Then, his eyes opens for a millisecond. Then maybe he flips over once. Then once more, before one eye twitches again. You get the idea.

Sometimes when I want to have a breakfast companion, my only choice is to get the poor boy out of bed so that he can have some morning nutrition with his most favourite sibling in the world--me. Waking my brother up is an elaborate 10 step process, so let me just share some of my favourite techniques:

- Open the door, run into the room yelling "WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPPPPP!! GETUPGETUPGETUUUUUP!"
- Pull off blankets, pull open shades / curtains, switch on lights in the room if necessary.
- If he resists, pull away pillow and bolster. (This technique no longer works as he's stronger than me now... probably another reason why he hits the gym)
- Poke him incessantly, especially if he has sore muscles from exercising and you know about it. USE THAT KNOWLEDGE!
- Tickle his feet. Especially effective if you have removed the blanket and his feet has nowhere to hide.
- Set his alarm for snooze in 1 minute's time and hide it somewhere inaccessible.

Unfortunately, he's wisened up and locks the door now, so I'm reduced to knocking the door in an elaborate rythm and pattern as irritating as possible so that it torments him while he tries to sleep.

Anyway, the whole point of this post is that my brother's birthday just passed and I'd like to dedicate this post to him, saying that what doesn't kill him certainly makes him stronger and wiser, and he only needs to look at our relationship to confirm it ; )

Blessed belated birthday, bro!

It's A Dog's Life

Right now, my house is a ruckus of noise, saliva and fur. Two dogs who can't get along are drooling, sniffing and shedding around my flat and I am absolutely enjoying every minute of it =)

My family's having a little gathering now that my dad's back in town, so the aunties and uncles are here, together with Benji the Mini Shnauzer and Junior, the Shetland Sheepdog. Junior is named as such because he's Marshall's "replacement" of sort. These two dogs are about the same size and have similar markings. Even their doleful expressions are so similar. However, their personalities are world's apart. Marshall is the smarter, more dignified, more sissified of the two. Junior is just an adorable rascal (he bit through my cousin's desktop's power cable and lamp) and honestly, a little IQ challenged ; ) As Jac puts it, he's like a dog with special needs :P

Benji is a bright spark of a mini shnauzer. He knows instinctively who he can afford to offend and who to obey. He knows how to steer clear from people who are angry with him and how to beg for food effectively. A greedy dog, this one is =) And he hates Junior's guts but Junior loves him. It's a love-hate relationship :D When the two are together, there is no lack of drool and entertainment as we watch their antics. Junior would nip at Benji's eyebrows, legs, butt, tail etc while Benji growls, barks and snaps at him. Frankly, these intimidation tactics look quite cute on a chubby mini shnauzer and Junior seems to enjoy being barked at. He's got really thick skin for a dog.

Right now, Benji is scampering up and down the stairs while Junior is chomping down on a squeeky toy, making incessant squeeky noises that brings such delight to his doggie soul =) We all hate the noise but only Junior can get away with it. He's like the youngest child in the family, the one whom everyone indulges and pampers. My uncle is notoriously strict and fierce when it comes to his dogs' upbringing, but when it comes to Junior, there is no limits to how much he can pamper and spoil the mutt. For instance, he bought a Honda Jazz, presumably to bring my grandmother to the beaches, but we all know that it's really to drive Junior around. Like I said, no limits.