Thursday, March 31, 2011

On a slightly more serious and tiny bit inebriated note..

(I'm gonna be really general about this and use the words 'we' and 'us' in place of 'I' and 'me' cause well.. I don't want to sound like a deranged psychotic clingy girl.)


The thing about humans in relationships is that, we tend to nitpick on every little upsetting detail, instead of taking a step back and looking at the bigger picture? We feel like they're short-changing us at every turn, at every little minute thing that goes wrong.


Like how we get upset when The Other Half cancels on us because they ran out of contacts and they're really vain. Or how they have a change of mind even though they so very clearly said that they would be spending the night. Or how they make plans without the courtesy of informing you first. How about that time they jokingly called us a bitch? And that night we spent at home sick and in pain and they were out having fun with their friends, rubbing it in our faces with their texts?


We don't think about the times they've called us beautiful even when we're crying with mascara running down our faces AND puking at the same time (amazing feat, I know. But even the best of us have gotten drunk and let our emotions take over control. What, YOU haven't?! Freak..) Or how they're willing to forfeit a night out with their friends because spending time with you at home cuddling over a movie is more meaningful. How they put up with the fact that you calling them a bitch would be one the nicest insults (in jest of course.) And how they came over and spent the entire day with you cause you swore you were dying and it turned out to just be the monthly cramps.


I guess what I'm trying to say is that we humans tend to forget that we are in a relationship with another human too. A flawed person figuring their way through life, going through the very same shit that we go through. Those crappy days where you wake up and EVERY FUCKING THING goes wrong; having ridiculously bad mood swings and feeling like shouting at every other living thing including your rabbit, which probably doesn't understand what all that fuss you're making is about; lazy unmotivated alone days where you spend the entire time lying on your couch watching The Food Network Asia. They get them too.


So instead of blowing up at all the little things they said and did (or didn't), we could try to understand that love is very hard to come by these days. All people really seem to care about now is sex and booze and plastic boobs. And things as precious as waking up and smiling at the snoozing pig next to you, your heart skipping a beat when they kiss you on the forehead, sitting down at the void deck having a smoke and feeling like the most contented person on this planet - these are things worth fighting for. And more than that, it's worth letting go of all those petty little inconsequential missteps.

Completely irrelevant and random photo, totally unrelated to the post. 
Of course, if everything that I've said do not relate to you, then my generalization is wrong and uncalled for. Bear in mind that if that's the case, it's all fictional and nothing is based on real life events. At all. I am NOT a deranged psychotic clingy bitch. 

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

I am bad at keeping to my word of blogging everyday so now I fill this space up with photos in a desperate attempt at making my blog look alive and not abandoned.

**ANOTHER POST BELOW! I broke them up into two separate posts in a sneaky attempt at upping my post count. Not so sneaky now that I'm declaring it of course, but I get honestly points right? **


Oh wait! Photos of me wearing the BPTSWFT that I was grumbling about.

It doesn't look that bad cause it's ME I know..

Okay no, even I can't save this shirt.
Some useful tips on how to take photos and what to do with them.
Always put up photos of you looking your best, regardless of how everyone else looks. 
Photo-bomb when necessary, to appear more in the album giving the illusion that you're really really popular and well-liked.
Always give a funny face, so that the whoever is trying to look sexy will feel embarrassed about it. 
When all else fails, imitate a member of another species.
I know I'm not exactly a very consistent blogger, taking it in turns to ignore my blog completely and then churning out two extremely lengthy and wordy posts. I am, however, an artist, and you know how we all are like. 

When in doubt, spam with photos.

You would think that sitting around on your ass all day doing nothing but typing out a string of words would be the easiest job on the planet (by using the word job, I am wrongly implying that doing this actually PAYS me. It doesn't.) Contrary to popular belief however, writing about one's daily occurrences isn't easy when nothing actually OCCURS. 

The night I finished an entire pot of beehoon. In my defense, my mother has kept it in the fridge for a really long time and threatened to throw any remainder away. Let it not be said that Charmant wastes food.
The day I made rosti and sausages for G-man. It may look a lot greasier than Marche's, but that doesn't mean it tastes any less delicious.
What I opened with, which is an incredibly beautiful hand for someone with as little gambling luck as I do. I did not win this hand. What I did win though..

Mahjong pays better than blogs do.
The day that G-man decided to become my personal delivery service boy. Calamari from Fish&Co.!
Fried buttered calamari from Ah Loy Thai!
There you go, your 6000-word essay!

Thursday, March 24, 2011

100 annoying things to do to your friends which they will appreciate if they have any sense of humour at all

1) Forward all your calls to your favourite fast food delivery service. Act ignorant.


2) Start every sentence with "I have something to say," but don't.


3) Start a list of 100 items and fill it with only three.

HOT AND NEW!

I have a new boyfriend! I know, it's not right to keep skipping from relationship to relationship. I just really couldn't resist myself when I saw him. His big brown eyes, soft curly hair, affectionate kisses.. I ramble I know. Put yourself in my shoes though; which girl would be able to resist this combination of cliches?


I met him on a certain late night/early morning. Some friends of mine and I were at our neighbourhood's 24/7 MacDonald's, doing absolutely nothing at all and acting all important. Our conversation got more and more dull, to the point where we stopped using words and started merely grunting and pointing. It was at this peculiar moment when one of them mentioned something about this amazing boy he knows.


And amazing he was. The boy took close to an hour to arrive, but the wait was worth every single minute of anxiety and impatience. He too, seemed put off by how long it took him to meet someone like me. We clicked instantly, and like every other cheesy movie, it was love at first sight.


Enough bragging right. Of course I have a photo. And while some of you may think that Brad's more handsome, I beg to differ.

Isn't he gorgeous?

Oh alright. He's not exactly mine per se. I'm getting there though, no worries.


Oh yes. I need more readers! Or else I'm going to actually get off my lazy bum and look for a proper job. I already went for two interviews as it is. Fingers crossed that I do get the job - I'm going to need something to fall back on when you fickle people decide not to love me anymore. 

Monday, March 21, 2011

open love letter to singers with lyrics that don't make sense.

Dear Katy Perry,


I don't know about you, but I've never actually heard of anyone feeling like a plastic bag. A condom and a tissue yes, but not so much plastic bags. How does that figure out anyway? You feel flimsy and really really thin and fragile? Why do plastic bags need to start again? How do they start out anyway? And really, what could they be carrying that's so bad it makes them want to reboot themselves?


Curiously yours, 
Charmant.




Dear Nelly, 


According to this and this, 'only' and 'just' kinda mean the same thing? So what you're singing is that it was 'only only a dream'? It's a bit like saying 'I attempted to make sense, but failed.' It is extremely redundant, seeing how 'attempted' already means that you failed. You are extremely rich and famous. Please hire a lyricist with better grammar sense. 


'Extremely annoyed with your song because it sends out the message that if you're rich and famous you can butcher the language but still mildly in love with your song'
Charmant.

the pits

On the bus ride home today, I saw a man get on wearing a white wife-beater singlet and light blue baggy hip-hop torn jeans, carrying a khaki-coloured knapsack. He looked like a really rich homeless dancer. My first thought, of course, was whether or not he had shaven armpits. Which raises the question, should guys have clean shaven armpits? And if not, how long should the length of the hair be before it crosses the line from manly to trapped in a jungle for twenty years, thereby losing all knowledge of grooming? And how do you propose that they keep it at the ideal length? Continually trim it? Shave it all off when it gets too long?


Anyway The Other Half has a lot of spiders all over his room and toilet, which would creep other girls out, but is an extremely educational experience for me. Here is a video I took of a spider spinning its web in the toilet! Enjoy.!


Friday, March 18, 2011

Friday's quickie.

Ah! I HAVE READERS! Thank you guys very much, although honestly I am extremely stressed about this. I've never been very good at public speaking, and every time I had to make a presentation, my entire body would shake so badly from my nerves that I would inevitably end up chattering my way through it. I sounded like an Eskimo on crack.


Anyhoos, I need to run off and play mahjong and lose money now. It's not that I'm too lazy to blog or anything.. How dare you insinuate that! 



Okay I really hope you guys have not read those links and find them extremely funny and if you've already read them, and because it's Friday, here's a song!


Thursday, March 17, 2011

I feel a little guilty for not putting a photo up of The Other Half (hereby condensed TOH.) I'm not sure if you guys will understand what I'm talking about cause maybe not everyone is as competitive and selfish as I am, but it's like discovering an indie band and listening to it obsessively and declaring yourself the NUMBER ONE FAN, only to hear it on the radio while you're cruising along the CTE and then seeing the lyrics of the song ALL OVER FACEBOOK. I remember seeing this happen in Secondary 4 to one of my absolutely favourite Panic! songs, and have from then on vowed NEVER to share good music again.


I feel a little like this about TOH? Like putting his photo up would somehow increase his value and suddenly all those stupid ahlians who were asking "is it still me who makes you sweat" back then will be wanting a piece of my G-man. But I value my blooming readership way too much to be so selfish, so I have decided to POST UP HIS PHOTO and hopefully entice a few unsuspecting lonely girls and boys..


But first! A couple of self-indulgent shots of myself going about my cute ways. *cough*

I (have always) believed I can fly.
I also believe I'm a little teapot, although not short nor stout.
Okay! Here comes the great big revealing moment!
.
.
.
.


He looks A LOT like someone else, doesn't he? I can't quite put my finger on it. This is gonna keep me up all nigh

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

shameless whoring for attention

The downside to starting a blog and trying to live off it is that the discipline in NOT coming I've been trying so hard to cultivate has now been rendered useless. I logged on at about 1AM, and told myself that I'll be done 3AM latest. It is now 6 in the morning, and I am still sitting on my white cracked plastic Ikea chair pounding away furiously on my keyboard.


To make it seem like I'm spending my time meaningfully instead of squandering it away on useless gossip tabloids  and mindless sites like textsfromlastnight.com / dearblankpleaseblank.com , I'm churning out a picture post! Went on Facebook to look for worthy photos, and got suckered into *almost* going through all 2102 of my tagged photos.

Beat (left) & I (WITH MY SEQUIN-ED BEANIE SHE HAS KINDLY HELD ON TO.) This was taken in one of the ladies' in Far East Plaza, after our Super Exclusive and Secretive Photo-shoot.
Tess with her swanky new Ray-bans, showing off as usual.
Obligatory "hot girl"
Ray - Tess - Jacq, sitting on the hammock at Ray's which have provided me with many falls and dizzy spells. Jacq's holding a packet a biscotti which I'm assuming is expensive and really yummy (we'll never know, as we never did try them) as it elicited a "YOU DID NOT" from her boyfriend when he saw this photo on Facebook.
Again, at the Kallang bridge. I swear I took like 3 million of this one same photo, cause they refused to hold still for me. And the shadows were never right. Nor were their smiles. And oh no, (imaginary) fats. Girls...
Me attempting what is known as Jazzercise, which according to www.jazzercise.com , is a workout that combines "hip-hop, yoga, Pilates, jazz dance, kickboxing, and resistance training". Wow, talk about ambitious.
This is the cat that sulks around my church looking for hand-outs and ear scratches during Sunday brunch. 
This is Junior, Melsteph's dog. Do not be deceived by how morose he looks here.
Favourite couple in the world. Mr. & Mrs Maniam. They've recently moved out of Singapore to a bigger country somewhere else on the globe not very near us. Heard that they're coming back some time soon, I think.
Wings from Cuscaden. Worth every gram you put on.
And thus, my picture post has concluded. I believe I've covered every demographic available to me? 

I will blog, tomorrow.

I don't really have anything much to say today but I made a promise to write a little every single day in foolish hopes that I would accumulate a following of readers so this is me sticking to my guns and charging straight on ahead.


No, I can't do it. I am not going to churn out some half-hearted dim-witted post with weak attempts at humor. I will give my readers the best and only the best. As torturing as it is for me to sit here and think of something funny and entertaining to write, I can only imagine the grimace on your faces after reading a second rate article. And I DO NOT do second rate, no sir!


I shall leave you with a quote instead.
Live, drink, be merry, love the reeling midnight through,
For tomorrow ye may die, but alas we never do

PS. Here's a video of N*sync covering the hit song That Thing You Do by the fictional band The Oneders. I'm assuming Justin Timberlake is somewhere in the video somewhere, but I wouldn't be able to pick him out or name any of the guys even if my life depended on it. I'm assuming the rest of you kids with normal growing up years would be able to.?

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

nuts for peanuts

When we ordered our Kindles, they came in this brown box with tons and tons of styrofoam peanuts in them. My first thought was that I could FINALLY try stuffing one up my nostril and blowing it out (like what Rachel did to Monica's marshmallows when she was told to arrange them in a "concentric circle".)


He IMMEDIATELY put a stop to my adventure, claiming that styrofoam peanuts were poisonous and that inhaling the fumes would somehow addle my brains. After attempting to sneak the peanuts up my nose a gazillion times - I swear that guy watches me closer than a hawk when he thinks I have something up my sleeves. I can't get ANYTHING past him - I resigned myself to the fact that I'll never know the feeling of shooting a peanut out from my nostril. However, I refused to throw the boxful of perfectly good styrofoam away, cause you'll never know when you need anything right?


My two friends came back from ikea one day with a toy ball-shaped kitty for me, and the box became a temporary home for the cat. But the cat was so bouncy and handy that we started throwing it at each other and using it to bash the other's head when we couldn't see eye to eye and now, the cat lays all lonely and forgotten in a corner of the room. The box of styrofoam has once yet been rendered useless.


The boxful of styrofoam peanuts is now a trash receptacle for our empty Yakult cans. I have yet to come up with a good reason why it should be kept around, but I can't bear to say goodbye.


PS. I just attempted bouncing a peanut off his tummy cause I have no idea where the cat is and I'm too lazy to look for a suitable substitute. Turns out, peanuts aren't very bouncy. 

Monday, March 14, 2011

BPTSWFT

I am going to make a general statement in saying that in every relationship, there will be (at least) this one article of clothing The Other Half owns that you will absolutely loathe. I thought I found it the first time I saw him wear his brown Reef 65% cotton 35% polyester trucker/surfer/netted/baseball cap.

It turns out that I'm wrong. How so very wrong. The battle that I have been fighting in getting him to stop wearing that trucker/surfer/netted/baseball cap now feel misdirected when I saw his Blue Palm Treed Shirt With a Front Pocket (BPTSWFP).

It happened one day when we were looking for a t-shirt for me to wear out for supper cause my clothes don't provide enough 'coverage'. He pulled it out from the mess that is his closet, and flung it on the bed. "Nah, this one's nice," he proudly proclaimed. I spread it open, and immediately shook my head. It was an odd combination of a pale yet bright blue color, and the front pocket had palm trees in a tone lighter. It was hideous.

"But why not? It's so nice. Look, it has palm trees behind!"

Indeed it does. That same palm tree pattern was repeated all over on the back, like some nightmare you get when you try to tile a too-small-photo on your desktop as your wallpaper. It was some designer's revenge on Hawaii cause his vacation was ruined by the food-poisoning induced diarrhea he got when he consumed under-cooked fish. It was HIDEOUS.

And he loves it. He loves his BPTSWFP so much he almost wore it out for supper just now.