Egging sight

Do eggs change colour with the season? I was quite shocked to discover these albino eggs when I hurriedly checked my purchase upon returning from the supermarket, silently cursing myself for forgetting to do so (again) in the store. I once stupidly bought a tray with 2 broken eggs and the smell and sight of other grocery items in the same bag weren't very pretty. Not to mention the nagging session afterwards.

My excitement of discovering winter eggs was abruptly killed when Peterpan said that chicken eggs in Holland come in many shades, whatever season it is. Wah total killjoy. Call me kampung, but I really haven't seen white chicken eggs before. Only white duck eggs, and they're salted.

The white egg shells are more brittle than the brown ones though. I tested by frying one after the other. (excuse to eat 2 eggs at one go woot) So there must be an explanation! *googles*

Findings: The difference between brown eggs and white eggs is purely cosmetic; it's just a matter of a baby taking after its mother. Hens with white feathers and white earlobes will lay white eggs, whereas hens with red feathers and matching-coloured earlobes give us brown eggs. There's no taste or nutritional difference.

Nothing mentioned about the strength of eggshells though. Nevermind. I still love my eggs in all shapes, sizes and colours.

Sleepless in Subang

Jetlag.
Sometimes it hits you like a feather, sometimes a bulldozer.
This is my third night back in Malaysia and I hope I can sleep at normal hours... soon.
Else by the time my system straightens itself out it'd be time for re-adjusting again.
Nothing's stopping the endless eating though.
Om nom nom nom nom.

Lush rush

I had a Lush rush two months ago. You'll always know when a Lush store is near, their smell automatically make their presence known. Usually that gets me really excited, except when my nose is being difficult and sensitive, then I'd be sneezing non-stop and cursing. Anyway, I like their concept, and once in a while I'd give myself a little treat and choose something.

Back in London I was crazy about their lemon nail and cuticle cream, but after a while found it a bit too tedious to apply cream to my fingers and toes every night. And it got into the way of my enjoying biting my fingernails. The cream smells very good but doesn't taste great.

My latest happy discovery is Baby Face. It is perfect as a makeup remover. All I need to do is to rub the soap till it melts (as the weather gets colder here it gets harder to melt), then transfer some to my eyelids (my only makeup area), rub gently and then wipe off with moist cotton pads. It smells heavenly and doesn't irritate my eyes! I lopped off a chunk into a tiny container to bring along whenever I travel. Light and easy, no more juggling your liquids around trying to fit within the on-board quota! My bottle of L'oreal makeup remover leaked and I hated that. No more leakage problems now. I guess the drawback is you probably need to spend more time melting the soap with your body heat before you can de-makeup. I read some customer reviews that the soap can also be used as a facial cleanser but I haven't got the patience to melt enough in my palms to smother all over my face.

YC sent me Mr Butterball, a fizzing bath salt for Christmas. He made me feel damn good. The vanilla musk lingered for hours and my skin had this protective oily (not greasy, mind you) layer after soaking that felt so nutritious, I didn't need to lotion up even with the superdrying central heating on (it's winter!).

I wasn't so happy with their solid shampoo though. You can find out why here.

Reorganisation

I'm giving my blog a new face. And I'm discovering "labels" for the first time. Tonight I embarked on the journey of rediscovering my blogposts from donkey years ago and see if anything is worth labeling. Three hours (and three years) later... and to my horror I saw that Photobucket stopped hosting my pictures because I haven't logged in for more than 90 days. More like 90 months but nevermind that. Now I have the additional joyful task of hunting down the missing pictures from my backup CDs (yup those were the days), DVDs (more like it) and harddisks, if I still have them. Bleh.

Baboons

Today is an important day. The date is in ascending order when you write it American style. It's daddy's birthday. And now, also the date I'm half-married.

I'm also a very good travel-mate to have when backpacking in exotic places.

Created by Oatmeal

Barcelona

I love Barcelona. The fresh seafood, the cheap public transport (except the after-midnight crazyass expensive airport taxi to our B&B), the sunny weather... And of course the little incident that will forever mark this place as being special. (no I didn't poo my pants)

There was the obligatory marvelling at Gaudi's brilliantly organic buildings.

There's strolling down the busy La Rambla towards the port. And just sit at the marina and daydream the afternoon away. Or launch into an intelligent debate on why the bigger fish don't team up and attack a seagull.

The magical fountain of Montjuic (I had to wikipedia to find out that the name means Jewish Mountain. Duh.) where all your dreams come true! Or at least, you go aaaaaaaah.

Squids are a must-try when in Barcelona. Grilled, deepfried, whatever way they come in, try. I miss them so much, oh my chipirones.

I suppose a visit to Spain wouldn't be complete without looting their Zara and Mango (and Desigual) outlets. And so I had my first shopping spree in Europe.

My only regret this trip? Not buying a Barcelona FC jersey. Boohoo!

Cupcake mild fever

I must admit, I got hit by the cupcake fever a bit late. It suddenly came about a month ago, and 48 cupcakes later, I've recovered. All the frosting and decorating and witnessing the oohs and aahs emitted from guests were quite fun though, while it lasted.

Now that the mild fever has gone... what am I to do with the 2 boxes of muffin ready-mix I didn't really get to use?