Property agent called up twice to tell us she had found 2 prospective buyers for our Parkcity Condo. Buyer A wanted to bring in a renowned Feng Shui Master to check out the fengshui of the condo. Fengshui guy A was willing to offer 410K. Anyway Buyer A declined in the end. Buyer B came along and offered 398K.
Husband asked, "to sell or not to sell?".
I said, "Eh, u asked for 400K and then now u ask me whether 398K is ok? Don't be mad....sell lah!!"
In the words of our self-confessed Indian-kiamsiap Penangnite friend, Suresh, "Marcus, you don't do something stupid just for two thousand lah!"
So Mister Man sat on this for 2 days citing the Mrs's inability to agree to the price. What the?! I ALWAYS become the bad guy!
Yesterday Catherine, the property agent calls up Mr. Man. Buyer B offered 400K. Mr hesitates again and says he'll call back - saying "I need to check with my wife."
So he goes around gloating in glee that he was right to sit on his decision.
"Wah, you see, I can earn one thousand a day you know!? I should not listen to you!" In his words.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
beauty and the pimple in the pits!
I was going to post last night about finding a pimple / ingrown hair in the pits of my arm but then spent the whole night plucking hair off my pits, eyebrows, moustache and squeezing blackheads. Utmost annoying. It's like finding a pimple on ur backside and feeling it whenever and everywhere!!!!
This is a strong reminder to you girls that you should never EVER shave your armpits or else those annoying pimples appear. It's just one of my quick fix-it things when i need to wear a sleeveless blouse. No matter how painful and annoying - ALWAYS PLUCK. And GUYS, you who have been led to believe that women have NO hair at these places, I'm sorry to spoil your delusion but we do.
Beauty is hard work. I mean, why cry and tear whenever you primp and pluck those eyebrows? So that other hardworking women won't look your way and go 'TSK TSK!' Frankly, the men don't care lah. They only comment when ur moustache gets too dark and then gossip to their guy friends.
This is a strong reminder to you girls that you should never EVER shave your armpits or else those annoying pimples appear. It's just one of my quick fix-it things when i need to wear a sleeveless blouse. No matter how painful and annoying - ALWAYS PLUCK. And GUYS, you who have been led to believe that women have NO hair at these places, I'm sorry to spoil your delusion but we do.
Beauty is hard work. I mean, why cry and tear whenever you primp and pluck those eyebrows? So that other hardworking women won't look your way and go 'TSK TSK!' Frankly, the men don't care lah. They only comment when ur moustache gets too dark and then gossip to their guy friends.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
How to write something inspirational
1. Get inspiration.
2. If unable to obtain number 1, try writing, re-writing, pulling hair off the crown of your head, pacing around the room, screaming and cursing the keyboard.
3. If all else fails, give up. Go and chew off the husband’s ear with stories of the day. Until he snores.
And then 2 hours have passed. Nothing inspirational yet.
2. If unable to obtain number 1, try writing, re-writing, pulling hair off the crown of your head, pacing around the room, screaming and cursing the keyboard.
3. If all else fails, give up. Go and chew off the husband’s ear with stories of the day. Until he snores.
And then 2 hours have passed. Nothing inspirational yet.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Confessions of a C-raving madman
Confession: I am off to Burger King for a SwissMushroom Cheesebarger craving fix. Oh help. Tell me what to say to my mother-in-law who will 100% chide and kill me for eating rubbish. She will def ask what i ate for dinner - shall i say Hor Fun or Kway Teow Tng?
Snack of the day
Look at my unhealthy snack today - the remains of a banana choc muffin and rasberry freeze. This is called selective eating. I'm surely doomed - such expensive taste!
Time for bed. I am becoming a char-siew again.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Help! I need to eat!
Eating has suddenly begun to be an ordeal for me. I sit staring at the rice on my plate and feel more and more grossed out as I shove another bak choy into my mouth! Food just tastes bad. I went to the ob-gyn yesterday and was placed on a scale and read out "Fifty-two kg". Height in centimetres? "168". The nurse took my blood pressure and remarked, "why are you so thin?" She couldn't strap the BP canvas thingy on my arm but did after the third attempt. She gave a frown working out the BMI reading.
I don't mean to be skinny. I'm only thick at the waist (and sometimes in the brain). I seem to have reverted to my five-to-seven year old days when I fall asleep on the dinner table, with the food watching me sleep. Yesterday afternoon my good friend and I were at Alexis (ok, i skived off work again - legitimate reason k?)Bangsar and she said she wanted to try the Tiramisu. I couldn't get 2 mouthfuls in! And this is the frigging most expensive and yummy tiramisu in KL! What I DID get in, the citron presse.
I'll never be anorexic because I simply cannot stand hunger. That goes for other pain-inducing stuff like tattoos, injections and the like.
Now with this stupid BMI reading I'm needing to put on 12-16kg in this pregnancy. What the HECK? I'll bet I'll cry a lot when I have to hit the gym post-natal.
I don't mean to be skinny. I'm only thick at the waist (and sometimes in the brain). I seem to have reverted to my five-to-seven year old days when I fall asleep on the dinner table, with the food watching me sleep. Yesterday afternoon my good friend and I were at Alexis (ok, i skived off work again - legitimate reason k?)Bangsar and she said she wanted to try the Tiramisu. I couldn't get 2 mouthfuls in! And this is the frigging most expensive and yummy tiramisu in KL! What I DID get in, the citron presse.
I'll never be anorexic because I simply cannot stand hunger. That goes for other pain-inducing stuff like tattoos, injections and the like.
Now with this stupid BMI reading I'm needing to put on 12-16kg in this pregnancy. What the HECK? I'll bet I'll cry a lot when I have to hit the gym post-natal.
Out of the closet 2003
Salt nightclub (published in ‘veeza magazine’, Melbourne 2003)
"Wah this place opened and closed already hahahaha!"
If girls are “sugar and spice, all things nice”, what is “Salt”? It’s a place meant to neutralise the sugary cute little thingys and transform ‘em into babelicious sirens. Including me…naturally. (Okay, deny your nerdhood!)
I remember fondly the birth of Salt in February 2000. The card said “Opening Ceremony, by invitation only”. Smiling radiantly, I was proud to be an exclusive elite so donned my prettiest frock and attempted the “smoky eyes” look. That night in Salt, air pollution was at its worst. It was the “smoke gets in your eyes” look coupled with groping in the dark to get to the toilet.
Now, in its middle ages, it’s become a household name with uni-fied Asians (My lecturer says I should economise on words) . Yep, hip young Asian poseur wannabes come here for their dosage of grey smoke, the alcohol binge and throwups. Er, they don’t see it that way. They like the “music”. You know, the type mummy can’t stand that vibrates the house? Maybe that’s why it’s called “house music”?
They spin “house techno” on Fridays on the main white-tiled dancefloor. Careful about those Rapunzels (is it an Asian phenomenon to grow hair so long?) in four-inch stilettos swinging neon sticks around. If one hits your head you find your skull resonating with the boom beat. Try your hand at dancing. Imagine your palms like chicken wings on a barbecue pit; gotta keep flipping ‘em around or they’ll get burned. Kick your toe and heel around like you’re doing tap dancing in fast-forward mode. Suddenly the two-storey blue ceiling looks more interesting to me. Oh dear, I’m getting old. I have no energy to keep up.
Time to flirt with the bartender. Shucks, he’s only interested in my money. Maybe it’s the bad lighting—red light from the counter clashes with my skin tone.
I usually pay about $7 for mixers. Wanna get thrashed? Try the “graveyard”. It’s a grey emulsion of I-dunno-whats, looks like cement and smells like rotten tuna. Promise you’ll be kissing everybody and telling them you love them—in no time.
The poser has to move onto better territory. Wu Tang Clan and LLCoolJ are more my cup of tea. Ya git mah drift bruther?
Hidden in the corner is a swelteringly hot puny room with parquet flooring. Yo, did ya realise that it’s all red? Red couches, red lighting, red bar-counter, red faces from too much alcohol... Survey the smarmy guys. No, they survey me first. But they turn away quickly. Whew.
On Fridays, Salt suffers from a drought of pretty lasses. Even if your face looks like a car smashed into it, head to RNB room to get picked up!
My deal is simple. Buy me a drink and I’ll talk to you for ten minutes. Then I move on. I don’t meet guys in clubs. Oh frustration, they want to dance before a drink. I don’t know who is the loser—them or me. I have totter in my painful heels to the counter, flash my Colgate smile and wave my $20 bill at the bartender again!
They play radio-friendly rhythm and blues. None of that hard-hitting rap-spewing tuneless stuff. Some reckon it is a microphoneless karaoke session. They bellow the lyrics while gyrating their hips a la Ricki Martin. Others climb onto the stage to shake their behinds. Why not show off those glutes you spent the whole week working on?
At six am, lights flick on and everything stops.
The party atmosphere depends on the crowd. The first three weeks of the semester and the semester holidays are packed. Depending on the season, the entrance fee starts at $10. Hang your mink coat in the coatroom for $2. Spot the entrance of the club near Legends, an expansive pool and snooker hangout along Daly Street, adjoining Chapel Street. Oh yes, try not to wear jeans or sneakers on Friday—they can be prissy about dress code.
Asians also congregate here on Wednesday. The mini room plays RNB while the main floor plays Retro music. Retro means Bananarama-mama, Uptown-Girl era. But don’t come here in calf warmers or Elvis’ hair. You’ll be ostracised. By all means, wear jeans.
"Wah this place opened and closed already hahahaha!"
If girls are “sugar and spice, all things nice”, what is “Salt”? It’s a place meant to neutralise the sugary cute little thingys and transform ‘em into babelicious sirens. Including me…naturally. (Okay, deny your nerdhood!)
I remember fondly the birth of Salt in February 2000. The card said “Opening Ceremony, by invitation only”. Smiling radiantly, I was proud to be an exclusive elite so donned my prettiest frock and attempted the “smoky eyes” look. That night in Salt, air pollution was at its worst. It was the “smoke gets in your eyes” look coupled with groping in the dark to get to the toilet.
Now, in its middle ages, it’s become a household name with uni-fied Asians (My lecturer says I should economise on words) . Yep, hip young Asian poseur wannabes come here for their dosage of grey smoke, the alcohol binge and throwups. Er, they don’t see it that way. They like the “music”. You know, the type mummy can’t stand that vibrates the house? Maybe that’s why it’s called “house music”?
They spin “house techno” on Fridays on the main white-tiled dancefloor. Careful about those Rapunzels (is it an Asian phenomenon to grow hair so long?) in four-inch stilettos swinging neon sticks around. If one hits your head you find your skull resonating with the boom beat. Try your hand at dancing. Imagine your palms like chicken wings on a barbecue pit; gotta keep flipping ‘em around or they’ll get burned. Kick your toe and heel around like you’re doing tap dancing in fast-forward mode. Suddenly the two-storey blue ceiling looks more interesting to me. Oh dear, I’m getting old. I have no energy to keep up.
Time to flirt with the bartender. Shucks, he’s only interested in my money. Maybe it’s the bad lighting—red light from the counter clashes with my skin tone.
I usually pay about $7 for mixers. Wanna get thrashed? Try the “graveyard”. It’s a grey emulsion of I-dunno-whats, looks like cement and smells like rotten tuna. Promise you’ll be kissing everybody and telling them you love them—in no time.
The poser has to move onto better territory. Wu Tang Clan and LLCoolJ are more my cup of tea. Ya git mah drift bruther?
Hidden in the corner is a swelteringly hot puny room with parquet flooring. Yo, did ya realise that it’s all red? Red couches, red lighting, red bar-counter, red faces from too much alcohol... Survey the smarmy guys. No, they survey me first. But they turn away quickly. Whew.
On Fridays, Salt suffers from a drought of pretty lasses. Even if your face looks like a car smashed into it, head to RNB room to get picked up!
My deal is simple. Buy me a drink and I’ll talk to you for ten minutes. Then I move on. I don’t meet guys in clubs. Oh frustration, they want to dance before a drink. I don’t know who is the loser—them or me. I have totter in my painful heels to the counter, flash my Colgate smile and wave my $20 bill at the bartender again!
They play radio-friendly rhythm and blues. None of that hard-hitting rap-spewing tuneless stuff. Some reckon it is a microphoneless karaoke session. They bellow the lyrics while gyrating their hips a la Ricki Martin. Others climb onto the stage to shake their behinds. Why not show off those glutes you spent the whole week working on?
At six am, lights flick on and everything stops.
The party atmosphere depends on the crowd. The first three weeks of the semester and the semester holidays are packed. Depending on the season, the entrance fee starts at $10. Hang your mink coat in the coatroom for $2. Spot the entrance of the club near Legends, an expansive pool and snooker hangout along Daly Street, adjoining Chapel Street. Oh yes, try not to wear jeans or sneakers on Friday—they can be prissy about dress code.
Asians also congregate here on Wednesday. The mini room plays RNB while the main floor plays Retro music. Retro means Bananarama-mama, Uptown-Girl era. But don’t come here in calf warmers or Elvis’ hair. You’ll be ostracised. By all means, wear jeans.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Writing from the dusty cupboard - circa 2004
The Idiot’s Guide to Studying. Cramming
Charlene Teo
Being a whiz at cramming hasn’t come easy. Years of self-experimentation with often -disastrous consequences have taught me much. Like the episode when I got the shakes from OD-ing on Nescafe. Or my infamous typos that have caused lecturers to conclude that I can’t write English. That’s because while some people find thrill in 3-in-a-row moviethons, I find pleasure in 3-in-a-row assignment-thons. By the third essay, sentences peter off to disconnected phrases after having achieved caffeine-induced delirium.
Since assignments and exams are necessary evils in our poor little lives, I have devised strategies to conquer them. So here I dedicate my priceless tips two types of people—the desperados and the plain lazies.
So it’s three weeks before the exams. Super-annoying classmate declares he’s finished one round of revision. Oh no, here goes the guilt trip. If you’ve got assignments, you need to start consulting lecturers NOW!
What should I ask the lecturers? Depends on what you know (or don’t). Personally, I grow another layer of skin and grin like a blithering weirdo while asking ‘seemingly’ intelligent questions. After getting incredulous looks from the tutor, you’ll probably receive a tip-off for the season.
Next, head off to the library and grab books. No, I didn’t say read them. I say bring them home to gather dust. At least you’ve got them on your shelf right? There’s nothing worse than insufficient references when that essay’s due tomorrow.
Now familiarise yourself with the functions of a photocopier. Another twenty bucks down into the copy card—and salivate over thoughts of that gourmet pizza that you’ll have to miss! Minimise your documents to save money and print more. But not too small, lest you end up with dots on paper. After this, xerox all the exam papers for the past five years. Obviously, some lecturers think students don’t notice when they recycle questions from yesteryear.
So just how do you tackle these papers? You’ll need to network. In particular, get to know three kinds of people. First, be best buds with the clever dud(e) as he/she will help you work through tough questions. Second, become tutor’s pet by periodically popping into their office armed with lollies ‘just to chat’ while sneakily digging answers from them. Lastly, let super-annoying friend know that you marvel at their intelligence. Just before entering exam hall, you can request from this friend a summary of the chapters that you forgot all about.
As you prepare for exams, you will need supplies to help you through. Stock up on the most acceptable drug on the market—caffeine. Fortunately too, there’s a delicious alternative to nutritious food: Satay flavoured Indo-Mee. You’ll also need brain food like Doritos, Mars Bars and Steak-Flavoured Chips. In addition, Gummy Worms will exercise your jaws while the rest of your body can’t afford the time to work out.
As you perform mind acrobatics in this harrowing time, you need to create the right atmosphere to absorb information. Thus, I recommend heading to the local library to mingle with permanent residents of the ‘library society’. Choose your library based on the proximity to food vending machines as well as a low level of noise. For goodness sakes’, please choose a seat that does not face the entrance of a library. For what’s the point of going there when you keep peeping over your notes to check out every cutie that walks through the door?
I dare say that grades often bear a direct relationship to the effort put into studying. And as you slap yourself for the fiftieth time for not starting to study earlier, why not look on the bright side of things. You can tell your future employer that you thrive under pressure and that you know how to manage your time well. For it’s truly marvellous how we can study four subjects in three weeks—er, make that two weeks… really.
When not writing advice columns, Charlene works hard at being idle.
Charlene Teo
Being a whiz at cramming hasn’t come easy. Years of self-experimentation with often -disastrous consequences have taught me much. Like the episode when I got the shakes from OD-ing on Nescafe. Or my infamous typos that have caused lecturers to conclude that I can’t write English. That’s because while some people find thrill in 3-in-a-row moviethons, I find pleasure in 3-in-a-row assignment-thons. By the third essay, sentences peter off to disconnected phrases after having achieved caffeine-induced delirium.
Since assignments and exams are necessary evils in our poor little lives, I have devised strategies to conquer them. So here I dedicate my priceless tips two types of people—the desperados and the plain lazies.
So it’s three weeks before the exams. Super-annoying classmate declares he’s finished one round of revision. Oh no, here goes the guilt trip. If you’ve got assignments, you need to start consulting lecturers NOW!
What should I ask the lecturers? Depends on what you know (or don’t). Personally, I grow another layer of skin and grin like a blithering weirdo while asking ‘seemingly’ intelligent questions. After getting incredulous looks from the tutor, you’ll probably receive a tip-off for the season.
Next, head off to the library and grab books. No, I didn’t say read them. I say bring them home to gather dust. At least you’ve got them on your shelf right? There’s nothing worse than insufficient references when that essay’s due tomorrow.
Now familiarise yourself with the functions of a photocopier. Another twenty bucks down into the copy card—and salivate over thoughts of that gourmet pizza that you’ll have to miss! Minimise your documents to save money and print more. But not too small, lest you end up with dots on paper. After this, xerox all the exam papers for the past five years. Obviously, some lecturers think students don’t notice when they recycle questions from yesteryear.
So just how do you tackle these papers? You’ll need to network. In particular, get to know three kinds of people. First, be best buds with the clever dud(e) as he/she will help you work through tough questions. Second, become tutor’s pet by periodically popping into their office armed with lollies ‘just to chat’ while sneakily digging answers from them. Lastly, let super-annoying friend know that you marvel at their intelligence. Just before entering exam hall, you can request from this friend a summary of the chapters that you forgot all about.
As you prepare for exams, you will need supplies to help you through. Stock up on the most acceptable drug on the market—caffeine. Fortunately too, there’s a delicious alternative to nutritious food: Satay flavoured Indo-Mee. You’ll also need brain food like Doritos, Mars Bars and Steak-Flavoured Chips. In addition, Gummy Worms will exercise your jaws while the rest of your body can’t afford the time to work out.
As you perform mind acrobatics in this harrowing time, you need to create the right atmosphere to absorb information. Thus, I recommend heading to the local library to mingle with permanent residents of the ‘library society’. Choose your library based on the proximity to food vending machines as well as a low level of noise. For goodness sakes’, please choose a seat that does not face the entrance of a library. For what’s the point of going there when you keep peeping over your notes to check out every cutie that walks through the door?
I dare say that grades often bear a direct relationship to the effort put into studying. And as you slap yourself for the fiftieth time for not starting to study earlier, why not look on the bright side of things. You can tell your future employer that you thrive under pressure and that you know how to manage your time well. For it’s truly marvellous how we can study four subjects in three weeks—er, make that two weeks… really.
When not writing advice columns, Charlene works hard at being idle.
Condo for sale!
Condo for sale!!! Do you want to buy Nadia Parkfront Condo 9th floor at Desa Parkcity, Bandar Menjalara, Kepong? http://www.desaparkcity.com/nadia1.htm .
Gated and guarded. Affluent neighbourhood with easy access to KL & PJ. 1184sqm. 3br,2bath. I promise you won't regret it cos it's such a beautiful place...got a market and well-established coffeeshops nearby, Secret Recipe across the road and lovely gardens all around. Only problem is that it's too far from my workplace! So am wanting to sell this investment to buy another.
We're thinking and praying very hard to buy a house in Subang cos we can't stand driving from Sri Hartamas/Mont' Kiara to Shah Alam for work and to Subang for church. It doesn't make sense! I pay RM6.60 2-ways everyday for toll.
Okay, on another note, I don't mind selling off our Leader Garden Tanjung Bungah condo in Penang too. But for that one I need to ask the hubby first. Interested? Let me know!
Gated and guarded. Affluent neighbourhood with easy access to KL & PJ. 1184sqm. 3br,2bath. I promise you won't regret it cos it's such a beautiful place...got a market and well-established coffeeshops nearby, Secret Recipe across the road and lovely gardens all around. Only problem is that it's too far from my workplace! So am wanting to sell this investment to buy another.
We're thinking and praying very hard to buy a house in Subang cos we can't stand driving from Sri Hartamas/Mont' Kiara to Shah Alam for work and to Subang for church. It doesn't make sense! I pay RM6.60 2-ways everyday for toll.
Okay, on another note, I don't mind selling off our Leader Garden Tanjung Bungah condo in Penang too. But for that one I need to ask the hubby first. Interested? Let me know!
The beginning of new beginnings
Argh. They closed my earlier blogsite. I kinda had 2 entries in the past 3 years so that leaves me wondering why. After much ado, I have decided to attempt a blog again just because I want to be 'in' like you all people reading this site.
Yesterday I had an 'eureka' moment. At Borders bookstore, I realised if you bought the classics with the tiniest print and ugliest cover, they would most certainly be cheaper than that with the lovely legible prints and beautiful artwork on the cover. Take my purchase yesterday, Anna Karenina - I bought the RM27.90 version while there was another printed version going at $48+. The cover is ugly alright. My husband told me to stop buying books cos I finish them in a week of reading so it's a plain waste of money. Actually he should stop me from buying my monthly indulgence - Glamour UK at RM22.50. I finish the mag in 2 hours flat! So the ROI is pretty bad on the magazine. On another note, just don't buy books from Borders - u r paying a premium anyway.
Oh on an unrelated matter (they put this comment in the newspaper when they want to combine 3 to 4 articles on crime and craplikethat), I had a nice time chatting for ages at Beans cafe with the cg. Yan Ching told us not to put our handphones near our ovaries for ladies and for men, not near they u-know-whats...lest u kiss ur 'happy fathers days' goodbye. Okay, I'm off to upgrade my new lovely blog. Hope you love it.
Yesterday I had an 'eureka' moment. At Borders bookstore, I realised if you bought the classics with the tiniest print and ugliest cover, they would most certainly be cheaper than that with the lovely legible prints and beautiful artwork on the cover. Take my purchase yesterday, Anna Karenina - I bought the RM27.90 version while there was another printed version going at $48+. The cover is ugly alright. My husband told me to stop buying books cos I finish them in a week of reading so it's a plain waste of money. Actually he should stop me from buying my monthly indulgence - Glamour UK at RM22.50. I finish the mag in 2 hours flat! So the ROI is pretty bad on the magazine. On another note, just don't buy books from Borders - u r paying a premium anyway.
Oh on an unrelated matter (they put this comment in the newspaper when they want to combine 3 to 4 articles on crime and craplikethat), I had a nice time chatting for ages at Beans cafe with the cg. Yan Ching told us not to put our handphones near our ovaries for ladies and for men, not near they u-know-whats...lest u kiss ur 'happy fathers days' goodbye. Okay, I'm off to upgrade my new lovely blog. Hope you love it.
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