to she who stole my handbag

to the bitch who took my handbag
who took my handbag from under my watchful eyes
when i took a split second glance away from the bartop

to the bitch who took my handbag
when i was trying to enjoy a depressing night
hoping for a memorable capper

to the bitch who took my handbag
i hope you are happy at the events that followed
that a guy had a stiletto heel in his head

to the bitch who took my handbag
i hope you understand that a $600 handphone is not worth it
not worth all the blood on the lobby floor

to the bitch who took my handbag
get a fucking decent job
and bloody donate to charity

to the bitch who took my handbag
who spoilt for eight of us, an otherwise fantastic night
who missed the excellent glass smashing fight

i hope you realised i was faster,

that the credit card was cancelled within minutes,

that the phone ceased to work within seconds,

that no one, NO ONE can look like me on my ID

cos you may be quick

but honey, i'm smarter than you fucking are

accidental freebies and parental consent.

sometimes the best things in life are accidental, absolutely unexpected, always the light at the brink of will-throw-mac-out-of-window frustration.

venue - found online quite by accident more than a year ago, on a small portion of a brides forum website. after searching desperately for a garden to hold our wedding at through millions of useless websites, linkless websites, even more useless suggestions, we found it. after all that trouble, they now have their own website and is much easier to find. yes, long after i was desperately searching for something.

bridal gown designer - the operator at SingTel's telephone directory assistance gave me the wrong number, for another bridal company instead! and boy, oh, boy do i love him [other than the fact that i think he caught a glimpse of my titties by accident, no no, this does not qualify as one of life's best accidental thingies]. he is friendly, somewhat wacky, very sincere, kind and absolutely accommodating to my unimaginable colour co-ordination and last-minute 'hey, i was walking and found myself downstairs, here, you know, at your door, can you let me in?' walk-in appointments. i'm the cloud on his silver lining [no pun to his company's name intended].

the painful initial stress of planning a wedding is almost over. except for one; father is forcing the very unfavourable idea of placing a wedding dias [yes, eyes popping out and fingers swelling as i'm typing w-e-d-d-i-n-g-d-i-a-s on keyboard] on us. we are both extremely uncomfortable with the idea although only few tasteless people might insist on taking pictures on the wedding dias.

i mean, OUR WEDDING IS IN A GARDEN FOR GOF'S SAKE [yes, gof]. LOTS OF BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS AND GREENERY TO TAKE PICTURES OF BUT NOOOOOO, we take it on a fake wooden plankish, new paint smellish platform.

i am not a wax model! he is not a subject!

we are people, that's right, p-e-o-p-l-e. not... not subjects. we are not that huge golden buddha you pose with on an elevated platform, we are h-u-m-a-n-b-e-i-n-g-s.

i am embarassed. a new war has started. all over a freaking d-i-e-s, yes, diEs.

how NOT to start an exercise regime.

1. walk right into an advanced Ashtanga Yoga class without reading the fineprint on the program when you have never, ever, ever gone for a single yoga class in your life.
2. attempt impossible situations that involve stretching limbs beyond their limits and get your left hand coiled under your right arm which is locked over your right thigh which is coiled over left knee. get it? get it? i still have no idea what i was trying to do.
3. start running backwards on one of those low-impact running/sliding machines and wonder out loud why the machine is making you go in reverse.
4. buy chicken rice.
5. eat (low-fat) ice-cream

i WILL start feeling healthy again and fit into my wedding dress. there's too much pressure on brides to lose weight these days. but all you anorexic/bulimic brides out there - stop whining.

for you are not as overweight as your leaking brain is.

red tape and roses

it's the 9th day and 10th night without my beloved Schnookums. ravi's confessed it feels like 9 months, i on the other hand feel like it's been only 9 hours. thank God for the grace of godforsaken work terrorised by a blur chinese, an anal argentinian, a lying indian and a square brazilian. it keeps me... well, occupied.

i knew organising a wedding was going to be tough, but i did not know it was going to be this tough. luckily i have a super-organised friend helping me for the reception in july. but the religious ceremony in february's going to be a bitch. all that documentation, endorsing, certificate here and there - just to get married. civil weddings have it good.

i thought they were encouraging the young to get married and make babies!

i've gone berserk since i started my wedding research on saturday. seeing happy pictures of newlyweds only made me miss ravi painfully. by sunday afternoon, i knew i had to stop or i'd go mad.

on top of that, the parents have their own ideas of what is good for ME. mom's OK, but dad's playing the ego trip again (he was the ONE reason guns are banned in singapore).

after all that red tape that made me see red, parental pressures kinda tipped me off. i imploded, and then exploded. if that's chemically possible.

but usually, after that kind of meltdown, you naturally take it easy. i'm back to my ohwhatthefucks and fuckits.

once february's over, we need to get ready for not only the reception in july, but also to move away permanently from this house, and (hopefully) temporarily from singapore. i do not know what will happen 2 or 3 years down the road, if we decide to come back to singapore or move away again.

but i guess time will tell.

this was the last picture we took before i sent ravi off at the airport. we look blissful, and i was, even after that. i knew then, in that bliss, even when we were away from each other, that our love had reached a level i did not expect to reach. that we were able to 'feel' each other without being physically near. and then i ask myself, 'finally, is this love?"

HEY, i can speak engrish, okays?

i work on an almost daily basis with johnny and he has a really strong hong kong accent. look, i love my friends in hong kong, but if you have good humour, you wont take this to offense. it is too good to keep to myself. read the following conversation out loud and keep in mind that johnny my good friend has a particularly strong hong kong accent.

self: hey johnny, what's the name of your director?
johnny: FOSher.
self: excuse me? what was that again?
johnny: FOSher.
self: i'm sorry, i did not get that again, could you spell that for me please?
johnny: SURE! f-for-SUgar ... no ... wait, i mean ... f-for-FAther, a-for-APper (apple), w-for ... w-for ... w-for ...
self: w-for-w, water?
johnny: YES! YES! w, c-for-CHEWren (children), e-for-ENGland.
self: mmhmmm
johnny: TOMmy! TOMmy!
self: er ... excuse me?
johnny: you KNOW, TOMmy TOMmy?
self: er ... i am sorry, i don't? is that his first name? Tommy Fawce?
johnny: NO, FAWce is his FIRST name.
self: OK, OK ... so Tommy is his ... last name?! (am incredulous at this point of time)
johnny: no no no no no, "T, "T", like TOMmy TOMmy
self: oh! you mean the letter "T"? T for Tommy?
johnny: yes, yes, corRECT!
self: (am extremely puzzled at strange name, but then again, we have met Echo-s, Tree-s, Apple-s, Psyche-s before too) so his first name again?
johnny: FAWce.
self: so his name is Fawce TT?
johnny: YES! YOU are ABsoLUTEly CORrect!
self: is he ... chinese?
johnny: NO, he WHITE guy.
self: (even more puzzled) OK, could you please give me his email address please?
johnny: SURE! P-E-T-E- (at this point of time, i give up. foshers, fawces, tommy-s, double Ts and now suddenly P-E-T-E etc etc?!)-R-dot-F-A-W-C-E-T-T

good lord, we take 5 minutes just to find out the guy's name is Peter Fawcett. i almost collapse sucking in breaths in order to hold back uncontrollable laughter.