weight loss

I lost 4kg.

Would've hollered and jumped in unadulterated joyful delirium under normal circumstances. But not this.

Because I lost them from my breasts. I cannot hold up my tube top anymore.

What the hell? Take my childbearing thighs or waist waste or bye-bye meat cannot?

I must learn how to stand on my hands and hope for gravity to work its magic.

saturday

Mirage promised to be a "ravishing processional performance, evoking the landscapes and traditions of Africa inspired by travels in Ethiopia and South Africa" according to the website, so I went.

We were about 10-20 minutes late from the stipulated time, 9.36pm (??!!) but when we finally arrived at Roman Road to be pleasantly ravished, all we saw was a scattered small crowd. There were more law enforcement officials than audience, even.

Then there was a ruckus from afar, some smoke and strobe lighting... and Indian music. And thus, voodoo robots with flashing elongated nipple-like eyebulbs were summoned.

Breathing in the heady, exotic African (mixed with ciggie) smoke and staring hypnotised at flashing lights exploding from the top of the heads of Tall People surrounding me... all I could do was helplessly give up on my struggling efforts... and passed the camera to the taller one. No way I could stretch my arm high enough to get a decent shot. And no way could I accept the offer for a shoulder-ride because I certainly don't look 5, and/or someone might throw a bottle at me from the back, if my kind and noble steed hasn't died of a crushed spine or torn body part or both. Yes, because I'm that heavy, see.

And yes, those were real people (not real African performers though, sadly) marching with half-opened real umbrellas. Why were they neither closed nor open, I don't know. Just like how I don't know why the dancers screeched and snarled with teeth bared at the audience. Must be the ever-watchful, ever-bright voodoo robot's eyes at the back.

More screeching and snarling performers slamming painted aluminium hoarding. Maybe a lot of them couldn't see well in the dark and slammed hoarding on toes, hence the screeches and snarls. Maybe they're even paid to do that for more realistic and rich screeches! *horrified* I didn't enjoy this segment. They sounded similar, but not as good as, my high school brass band. They looked dissimilar from, and not as good as, videos I've seen of Stomp! and the likes. Part of the reason, also, could be because there was an old couple with the woman in wheelchair stuck in the middle of the crowd with no one offering to let them get to the front. I felt irritated enough not being able to see anything but she's at my waist-level! And I didn't see that many interesting-looking butts that night.

Speaking of wheelchairs, a few blokes were strapped on to them and made to play drums while being pulled backwards with lampshades over their heads. Sure hard to see their facial expressions from the layers of paint, this one captured and forever frozen by camera had to be bewilderment. I'd be too, if I remind people of a cymbals-crashing wind-up monkey.

Next up, fire. A burst of flame of any size and the crowd oooh-ed and aaah-ed. Nevermind it's an armadillo on fire with more fire shooting out of its ass.

Man hanging from a giant horn pulling acrobatic stunts with fire cackling merrily down below. I like roasting my chicken wing at BBQs this far above the fire too. Mind you, it probably takes longer to cook the wing, but the meat's evenly cooked and juicy and not burnt to a crisp on one end, and uncooked on the other. And I don't know why but it seems apt to bring in the subject now.

More and more giant African animals roamed the streets of Bow. By this time I was sick of trooping behind the procession up and down the street like an extra in some horror movie where the villagers march up to the giant tree to burn the witch. So we stood on the pavement somewhere and just snapped pictures of whatever's passing by.

The grand finale. Ooooh. Aaaah.

weekend

The weekend's here! I swear, I'm gonna get my lazy arse up and go do something. I missed Daft Punk at Hyde Park last Saturday. Could only look at the housemate forlornly as she donned sunglasses and head off to dance with her friends.

And I'm absolutely gutted after reading Glen's blog and seeing the pictures he took at the Muse gig in Wembley Stadium. I. So. Fucking. Want. To. Go. But. Am. Too. Broke.

So that's what I missed last Saturday. And Sunday? Muse played at Wembley again, this time with MCR as one of the supporting act. Only one word for me: Gutted.

Muse will be headlining Oxegen at Punchestown, Ireland on 7 July. Anybody wanna (please please) bring me there (please please please) and I love you long looooong time?

chinese takeaway

So I've started work at a Chinese takeaway about 30 minutes from where I live. I'll be working two nights a week, and then maybe three once I learn the menu back-to-back and not stare at the computer screen with finger frozen in mid-air.

Yesterday the boss cooked me a plate of chicken chow-mein before starting work. First thought that crossed my mind was "THIS is Chinese fried noodles?!!"

Don't get me wrong, the food's fine. It just doesn't taste... Chinese. No wonder the real Chinese never order Chinese takeaways. Nevermind, the British folks love to order chips (a cross between potato wedges and french fries for you Malaysians back home) with curry sauce, so I ladled some curry sauce onto my chicken chow-mein, and...

"THIS is curry?!!"

Food culture clash kao-kao. At least the cook cooks real Chinese fare for dinner, simple as the dishes may be. I miss my plain rice swimming in oily veggie/meaty gravy like craaaaaaaazy.

southgate

Everybody, welcome to the quiet, peaceful neighbourhood of Southgate. This is the street I live on, my house is the brown one in the middle. I really like this place. Let me tell you why.

There's an amazing backyard garden where my housemate, Mark plants real vegetables and flowers. I love houses with a functional green pocket. On a sunny day (like today *dance*) we can hang out laundry to dry in the breeze and absorb the refreshing aroma of unadulterated nature. The grass here is so much greener. No, seriously. I didn't Photoshop this picture.

My room is amazingly spacious and cosy at the same time. Very inspiring, romantic lighting too (alas, no takers for any form of romanticising yet). The room opens out to the living/dining area which nobody really uses. The only qualm I have is the quietness that comes with a room without windows. I'm slowly getting used to it, though.

The closest I came to being romantic was actually, all in my head. But many good pictures were taken in my room. Hence I love my room. And I really, really like this picture. (shurrup)

I was initially appalled at the tininess of the kitchen area but since everybody cooks at different times (not to mention I spent about a week at a uni dorm with a HUGE kitchen before this) it's really quite adequate. Barely a week into living here and I know how to operate the microwave, gas stove, washing machine and hot water shower system! Stuff that I've never touched back in Malaysia.

Anyone who wants to drop by for dinner, let me know. Rescue my poor brains from incessant racking of what and how to cook for one person. Now that I'm still jobless I have a lot of time in hand and mood to experiment (medical bills not covered for volunteers, though), better make full use of it while the offer lasts!

london day 3

Let's backdate a bit to my third day in London. Went for more touristy sight-seeing with Si and my camera died. Which, I'm sure, has no significant relation to Si's awesome sense of humour and charm. Anyway some pictures were successfully retrieved from demised camera and although there should be 29846 more, the following would have to suffice for now.

No London trip would be complete without a walk along the river to London Eye. Too bad the weather couldn't provide a better backdrop (the sun went into early mourning knowing in advance that my camera is about to die a tragic death), hence perfectly bland pictures this round.

A closer look at the London Eye. Wonder if the rip-off Eye of Malaysia look anything similar. But hey, we have fireworks every weekend compared to the once-a-year New Year's Eve fireworks at London Eye. I'm not paying 14.50 pounds to get on something that'll make me barf. The one-time 15-minute ordeal on Eurowheel is enough, thank you. London Eye is 30.

When we came up to this, Si said "you must know what this is" and actually I didn't know and could care less about anything else besides how much my feet were hurting (I thought I could skank it up walking about in heels, but hell I didn't know this much walk can happen in London) but I just threw a semi-enthusiastic "wow, Big Ben" (not very big also) which was promptly blown away by the strong wind slapping into my face. But yeah, it is Big Ben (thanks to postcard sent by Shaun a few years back).

I seriously had no clue what this quaint-looking medieval building is. Was educated about the Houses of Parliament (where real parliamentary meetings still take place! no leaky roofs here I bet!), otherwise known as The Palace of Westminster.

Salvador Dali and his... egg. My brains will explode if I attempt to decipher the message his sculptures try to convey. Of course, at that time said brains were too preoccupied with robotic loops of "when can I sit when can I sit when can I sit".

Finally I sat. Found empty benches along the river where I could rest my poor toesies. And this is the last picture my camera took before following the three monkeys into blue oblivion. I wonder what message my camera was trying to send me.

green green grass of...

Picture stolen from Nene who went back to Canada with hubby a while back. Now that I'm out of Malaysia a scenario like this with me as lead actress is 90% more possible to happen. I can, you know, totally, you know, relate to the dynamics of this picture.

I have the grass (the type not to be inhaled, eejit).
I have the grey (marble?) stone buildings.
I have the occasional sunny weather.

So what's the 10%?
I just don't have her youthful, non-childbearing thighs and tight bod, dammit.





Oh ya. I'll also need me a bloke.

camera died

So my Olympus Mju-700 died on my third day in London. My fun plan to travel-blog and picture-whore is buggered. Now is mad scramble to email/msn/text the relevant persons back home to help me dig out the warranty card and find out IF I really do still have one. Aiya this is really not an "ong" start to my great big adventure. Thank goodness I have quite a few good friends around (already!) to help drown the sorrows and numb the pain.

I've found myself a room up north in Southgate, about 30 minutes from central London. YC will be helping me move my remaining stuff there later when she's back. The adorable Si was a darling in accompanying me do auntifying household-shopping last night, so tonight I'll only need to buy items that I missed out. Which is quite a lot actually. Dammit, does brain capacity decreases parallel to gravitational pull once I haul ass up the northern hemisphere? I really like my room, nehmind that fact it's converted from a living room and has no windows. A teeny-weeny bit stuffy now but I'd be thankful once winter comes! The neighbourhood is wonderful as well. I'll be staying with 2 other Malaysian girls, a Hong Kong girl and a British guy. We shall see what kinda interesting stories unfold at home from now, but so far I've got only the nicest things to say about them. And my bed... ooooooh my bed... very very very comfy. And I'm not saying this because I've slept on the floor in a sleeping bag for almost a week. Honest.

I baked yesterday and cooked lunch today. This is always the case, innit, never wanna learn anything about preparing food back home and get thrown into the deep end once you're in a foreign place and eating out costs a bomb. Thankfully my first solo cooking mission went quite well. The recipients were mopping all the gravy clean with bread slices. Wah, such a purr-worthy ego-stroking session. Makes me want to stay longer just to cook and not look for a proper job... but alas, cannot.

london - 2nd day

On Saturday, still fighting lethargy from time difference (please ignore horrendous eye-bags in pictures) and the surreal-ness of REALLY being in London, I met up with Bel, another Malaysian working holidaymaker. It's amazing how fast strangers can become friends in a short span of time in a foreign place. And how skinny she really is. Bitch! Hahaha. (Bel, if you're reading this, I love you okay? Just very jealous)

We went to Covent Garden first. Bel said she's been the unofficial tour-guide of many a Malaysian tourist in London now, even though she's only been here less than a month. Nevermind the fact she studied in London before, but it's funny how tourists (who do their homework, mind you) seem to know where to go and what to see better than the locals, more often than not. But anyway, there're a lot of people pretending to be statues in Covent Garden to make money. The paint can't be good for the skin... tsk tsk.

There's also this guy who swallowed balloon swords. Less hazardous to skin, but more tendency and practice to smuggle drugs packed into condoms?

Actually-leh, the reason we went to Covent Garden is to see the Malaysian Week carnival thing. But what a disappointment. So small (like Heathrow... hmm maybe I should stop having any expectations from now) with a measly array of stuff. Even the fashion show didn't truly reflect our vibrant culture. What's with the funeral garb on the ladies wei?

Can you imagine how filthy RICH I can get if I start selling Malaysian food here? If only I know how to cook... dammit. Wonder what's the procedure to apply for a London Ramly Burger stall license. I know a lot of people miss the Ramly burgers. Sure one.

The satay is 1 pound per stick, ok. I wonder what would the British people queuing up for it think if they know they can get about 14 sticks for 1 pound in Malaysia? But okay-lah, they even have the ketupat and nasi himpit for sale so still quite authentic.

Then we moved to watch more British stuff. Musicians, unicylist, painters... it's the English Pasar Seni! Although, the Malaysian musicians are more shy to come right up to you and ask for money. I felt really bad for not giving, since I might be the next one singing on the streets... but it'd be rather awkward if I put my sole 20-pound bill into the basket and ask if I can have change.

Bel said this is Covent Garden's landmark picture. "The roof the roof! Must remember to take!" So I took-loh. Nothing interesting inside the market though. Pasar Seni-lah.

Then we went to Chinatown! Well, almost like Petaling Street, this one. Just 2 streets of miscellaneous Chinese shops selling miscellaneous foodstuff and sex toys.

Trafalgar Square. Who cares about the National Museum Gallery or whatever behind when there's a dolphin fountain? OooooOooo *stare transfixed* Oh I just realised I haven't been to any museums or galleries since I came to London. Nehmind, plenty of time for everything...

Highlight of my Saturday has to be this: oil protest naked bike ride! (Si, I owe you a big big one for this information) And for the first time Bel asked me to take a picture of her. She's so sick of the previous few touristy spots (been there a couple hundreds of times, I'm sure) she didn't wanna be in any picture. But this...

Multiply the amount of nekkid people seen here by 10 and that's the approximate amount of British dangly bits and udders Bel and I saw. The initial shyness gave way to sheer awe at such majestic sights as out camera shutters clicked away.

Not sure if it's a good idea posting frontals up here (no don't shut down my blog! all these are for educational purposes I swear) so here's a little sneak peek at what we feasted our hungry Malaysian eyes upon. Muahaha. Hot blonde in middle is a host of some telly programme or something like that. She went around interviewing random nekkid males and measured their wee-wees.

Don't you just love England already? And last but not least... a surprise beautiful discovery at Hyde Park...

Isn't he the most precious, beautiful pan-asian baby ever? Aiya I also wanna make one like this-lah! Sure can beat any Utt or Colby or random Channel [V] host. Then I'll be a rich model/host's hot momma! (hot because I'll be leeching money off my kid to go for cosmetic procedures)

london - 1st day

After a harrowing week of endless packing and stress and driving and lugging heavy furniture... I'm finally in London. Which, strangely... doesn't feel that much different from home. Just more... white people.

Heathrow Airport is very much smaller than what I imagined. Compared to KLIA and Changi, can't blame me for having high expectations. Why like LCCT only one.

Every office and residential building in London looks so... different. Quaint. Like storybook illustrations, or or, them pop-up paper books!

So I went to YC's uni pad, chuck my stuff down, tried to nap a bit (I flew for more than 13 hours dammit) but ended up yakking with YC... so we decided since I'm not sleeping we'd might as well freshen up and go out, because the Ogress brought sunshine to London with her! (don't be fooled by my bright and comfy appearance, my brains weren't actually functioning)

So many posh cars in Barbican! I wonder if they belong to the students or teachers of Barts And The London.

The famous quaint black cabs of London city. Yes I notice I say "quaint" a lot. I can mimic the British accent quite alright too, in short sentences, like "can I top up my reload card, please" and "this is my number, call me" (I wish).

Yeah, fairy tale castle spots like these just pop up in the most surprising places like mushrooms after the rain. And this is just the city... not the real countryside giant castles! Those are gonna be so much more romantic... *swoon*

St Paul's Cathedral was within walking distance from Barbican so we covered that after getting meself a prepaid Vodafone card. Nevermind that we walked to Bank and Chancery Lane as well. And grocery shopping at Sainsbury in Angel too. (yes, I know you're probably very confused now but I have to show off my newfound London geographical knowledge)

I saw pigeons kissing on a stone table in St Paul's Cathedral! Awwww how schweet... until they proceeded to get it on right there and then. I tried to take some shots but hands were too jittery from laughing. Pictures turned out unblogworthy.

I'm on a double-decker bus! Finally! I know I know, it's just a very big picture of my Ogress face, but look carefully and you can see the angmohs behind me. No bluff one!

When the sun comes out, all the kingdom creatures come out to play as well. Back in Malaysia people who do this would be labelled as gila.