100% design

Where: Jessey's turf in the office.
When: 5pm Friday, after coming back from 100% Design exhibition.
Why: My orange juice was laced with a little vodka.

So much for trying to be the tough cookie when Bossman's buying everyone drinks. No no, I don't like beer. You guys go ahead. I'll have Malibu with pineapple juice. Oh you don't have that? What should I have then, Bossman? Oh? Vodka with sparkling orange juice is nice? Ok I'll have that.

Oh the length I had to go through to make sure I don't puke. No fun at all being humiliated (I'd prefer praised, but too bad all comments were from women) as a cheap date (note to self: order the most expensive tea there is on the menu to counter cheap date) and generally feeling like crap with head threatening to thud into explosion.

Why I cannot drink one.

too much

Someone is trying to hook Bossman up with the actress from Nip/Tuck. In real life. This job is getting too glamorous to handle. So is the totally hawt but totally shy freelance IT guy that comes in once a week.

My boss. Talking about Joely being too tall for him.
Most beautiful man in London. In my office.

Pinch me. Now.

close shop

Draaaaaat I haven't updated for so long I might as well close down the site. Now that I've started working I barely have time to read other people's blog, let alone blogging myself. And there's always the bane of normal, healthy social lives, Facebook. (whaaat, I'm almost at my 100th friend now so I'm excited ok!) Anyway Aggy's coming this weekend and I haven't vacuum (or shall I be a proper British and say "hoover") and clean up the sty. Then Wern-Yi might be coming the next weekend, and my Peter-ito the weekend after that. My bed's so gonna think I'm teh slut of the century.

But yeah, work. Work's been pretty much my entire life and universe for the past 3 weeks. Sure doesn't feel that long. It's very interesting, what I do now, being someone's personal assistant. Trying to learn everything the Bossman knows and then be a step ahead of him so I can plan tasks and schedules for him. So far the most exciting "projects" I've done is learning how to use Outlook (and having the powderful access to Bossman's mailbox), ordering stationery online, drawing our new website map with Visio, measuring and sketching a client's bathroom (doesn't smell very nice though, and it's disturbing how the pong slowly dissipated the longer I stayed in the small stuffy room... did my clothes absorb all the goodness?), and attempting to make sense of 10 boxes and 2 cabinet-ful of Bossman's miscellaneous junk. Unearthed some pretty weird stuff, I must say.

But yeah, work. Foresee more interesting days ahead. Nice boss, nice colleagues, nice working environment. Only un-nice part is the 3 hours of commuting every day. And I cannot afford to move any closer to work. Sigh. London! Nevermind, think positive think positive. Bossman's taking me to Bologna next month for Cersaie! And and...

Say hello to my new toy (a.k.a. handcuffs to the Bossman), the BlackBerry Pearl. I have no frickin' idea how to work it yet, I just use it for my morning alarm. Damn thing looks so canggih I'm seriously terrified of it. Yeah, I'm glad Bossman doesn't read my blog.

work and stratford

So I'm now a proper working class person. A week and a half into being a Bossman's Right-Hand, I'm still learning and enjoying the new experiences. Still terrified about picking up the phone (especially Bossman's mobile) but I could only run away to make tea that many times in a day. Next week we're gonna sit down to discuss the corporate website and brochure. Should be interesting. But then, having the sole power to order whatever stationery I like for everyone is also very interesting.

Now that the sun's only up till 8pm and not 10pm... what's better than reminiscing about the good summery trips we took a few weeks ago? Si, YC and I went to Stratford-upon-Avon to be immersed in Shakespeare one very sunny Saturday. And then his uni in Warwick and the 2 flats he lived in while studying and then dinner at his favourite Indian restaurant.

All those we did, but not Warwick Castle. Because no more sun.

bryan boy

I now have Bryan Boy as a friend on Facebook. Wow, talk about having the closest thing to a celebrity as a friend. I haven't been reading that third-world skinny bitch's blog as religiously nowadays, but you should. He's the loudest, funniest, smartest and proudest.

Which jives perfectly well with my post today on Brighton and it's annual Pride event. I know I'm a wee bit behind on this (but no, I'm not a behind-person so AIM CAREFULLY DAMMIT) but just bear with me yeah. I'll make this short and sweet so y'all can just click on the link and go see pictures. Someone killed my braincells a little today by asking me to download and watch A Night At The Roxbury so I'm not feeling too witty right now.

After lots of colourful parades (as well as openly gay displays of affection) in the Netherlands, I have to say the Brighton one wasn't too entertaining. Nevermind the few Chinese bitches who elbowed me and shouldered their ways to the front and left me snapping pictures of people's arms or hair or cameras. I was standing quite in front because I've been queuing there, dammit. I'm ashamed of my fellow skin sometimes.

Having said that, I went for a job interview with a manager who's from Brighton (and sounded suspiciously too enthusiastic about the whole Pride thing to be straight) and he said the REAL fun isn't at Madeira Drive (where the parade starts) but at the park where it ends and everyone gets really drunk and clappy-happy.

Note: No, I'm not a 'phobe. My interviewer said "Pride is AWESOME! I never miss a year!" and how can you not suspect a statement like that?

Si got really really sunburnt from sitting on the pebbled Brighton beach and feeding my tuna bagel to the pebbles. After ignoring his pinkness (which turned a more and more violent shade by the minute) by ogling at this hot young thing in a skin-coloured bikini (and betting with Si if it'd be transparent when she comes out of the water) for a good long time, we finally left Brighton. And since it's still quite early, we made an impromptu detour to visit Portsmouth. We drank beer at the pub which is converted from Si's dad's old office, and then watched Transformers at Vue. Then we went home and Si shed skin for the next week.

Now, I shall plot cunningly how to get Azwin Andy into my Facebook as well. *swoon*

No. Her bikini didn't become transparent.

ashamed

I'm ashamed of myself. Haven't been updating for the past 2 weeks! I swear, I'm going to sit my fat-ass down this weekend and catch up with updates on my escapades to several quaint English towns.

The whirlwind called Peter has come and left and I haven't even finished uploading pictures for my Netherlands trip a month ago. Shame, shame. Without further ado, the final chapter of my Netherlands trip (until October, that is), the town which I hate and like at the same time (more dislike than like) - Rotterdam.

Like: Sausages sold from automatic vending machines. Sounds like nothing special at all, right? They're made of horse meat. Both Frikadel and Kroket are made from a mixture of mashed meat, including horse. Uh huh. I had a horse sausage and it was salty and plenty GOOD.

Like: Sweaty and hot young men beating their sticks. Oooh la la.

Dislike: Too politically incorrect to say it here. But you girls can gawk at my usual pristine pictures.

great beer festival 2007

Si texted me to meet in town for a post-interview mini-celebration today. It's been the best interview I've had to date, by a young and laid-back MD with a really interesting background. I didn't think someone up there can be so similar to myself. Let's see what comes out of this. For now, let's see Jessey drink!

Quantity of beer: 6. (Eco Warrior, Guzzler, Ossian, Danish Dynamite, Dark Fantastic, Orval) Nevermind I had like 3 sips on average of each. Just treasure the rare pictures of me actually allowing alcohol into my bloodstream, ok?

Where/What: The one place where all beers of the world come together to teach the world to sing in imperfect harmony (oh the band *shudder*), and drunken men swap clothes with drunken women, and hotdogs go for an insane price, and the queue to the men's port-a-potty is longer than the women's.

How/Why: Because Si graciously paid for everything (including dinner at Wagamama's!) and happily (at least he looked so) guzzled all my beer (that he chose) after my 3 sips. Entrance fee is a crazy 8pounds each ok! I so think I wasted mine. Hence this picture is an attribute to the awesomeness of Si-from-Land-of-Skirt-wearing-Men. Thanks for the experience, sayang.

Tomorrow, we're going to Stratford-upon-Avon to breathe the air that Shakespeare slept, wrote, farted and left a legacy in. And explore Warwick Castle.

No, I don't think Dionne owns it.

i'm funny ok

Sometimes I amaze myself with my own funniness. What's there not to love?

maastricht

Okay okay I know you guys are probably sick of my slow and painful Netherlands posts and pictures (WHAT? STILL GOT?!) but bear with me. This one is speshul, because of many speshul things I got to do besides taking cloud pictures and flower pictures and canal pictures.

I ate an entire raw herring. I've seen plenty of vans and stalls selling them, but somehow eating a WHOLE fish raw just didn't appeal to me like your typical sashimi does. But then, have to try everything once, right? So I went right ahead and bought myself an experience. It wasn't half as bad as I thought! I'll definitely eat it again happily. Outdoors. Because the fish pongs up the whole room and fridge.

I got a strange shout-out from my deceased godbro, Nido. Well, hello there dear! Welcome to the Netherlands! Where've you been for the 6 months since you're gone?

I cycled again after not doing so for about 10 years. The wind rushing past my face and hair was exhilarating, especially when I stood up mid-pedal and yelled a liberating "woooo hoooo". Then the building ache on my ass and pubic bone reminded me I'm not the skinny, sporty girl from 10 years ago anymore. I couldn't sit properly for days after cycling for about 30km that day. But hey, it was fun, and so was the caving adventure we cycled to.

We? Yup, you read it right. There was a man involved. Curious, right? Not just nice scenery, nice flowers and nice canals anymore. Faster go see my pictures-lah.

utrecht

Utrecht is a small town (funny how it's the central train station for the whole of the Netherlands though) surrounded with canals. And interesting pubs and shops surround the main canal. The two rows of shops/restaurants/pubs are just nice for me, comprehensive enough to get whatever one needs but not dizzyingly crisscrossed with other canals and streets to get one lost in direction and choices.

The centre of Utrecht has to be Domplein, where the famous Dom Church is. Apparently one can climb up to the top of the tower and take kickass awesome pictures... but I. Just. Couldn't. Find. The. Entrance. Maybe they're under renovation? I truly believe so. (say otherwise and I'll perform The Nutcracker)

The inside of the Dom Church. Niiiiiiiice. Filled me with childlike wonder and reminded me of the incident where I climbed into the church of my Catholic kindergarten (*ahem* broke in through the window, more accurately) and was punished by kneeling in silence for what seemed like a lifetime facing a similarly colourful (but slightly broken - or was it another one?) window like this one.

Anyway, more pictures here.

After all the sightseeing and obligatory photo-taking, I met up with Jenny and got drunk. Finally, someone smaller than me in size that I could bully into cooking dinner while I lay wasted across the couch staring shitfaced into the TV (thanks, buddy).

middelburg

This could very well be the best leg of my entire trip. Maybe not in terms of accessibility and things to do, but dayum the Bed & Breakfast is fantastic! Quaint neighbourhood with antique cars and resplendent courtyard gardens, I felt like I was walking backwards 20 years.

The bustling town centre with street parades, outdoor cafes, open air rave parties in the park. The starkly quieter housing areas. The long stretch (nevermind it was deserted and cold) of beach just 10 minutes away.

The combination leaves a sweet taste in my mouth. I'm gonna go away now to savour it while I still remember and you people can help yourselves to some sweetness too, right here.

alkmaar

Every Friday morning, locals and tourists alike swarm to Alkmaar for the weekly cheese market in front of the cheese church. Having missed the Keukenhof gardens by an entire season, I wasn't about to miss the cheese so I braved the morning cold and sleepiness.

The sight of so many wheels (is that the right penjodoh bilangan?) of cheese made my heart gallop like a little deer. But alas, I realised that after all the pomp and show (they even have scientist-lookalikes to cut open some cheese and discuss intellectually among themselves for 15 minutes), these cheese aren't for sale! The workers wheeled the wheels of cheese into big trucks, where they're delivered to Timbuktu and never seen again.

What we could buy, was of course these smaller ones, from the one stall selling cheese at the cheese market square. I didn't get any because I didn't wanna be lugging cheese around town on my first leg of journey. Now I regretted it. But only slightly. Because hey, cheese is cheese right. Regardless of whether it's starred in a show or not.

Alkmaar is also known as Little Venice. The end.

amsterdam

What is Amsterdam without the canals? Better quality pictures coming up, I promise... blame it on the weather.

What is Amsterdam without the museums? Thank goodness for Museumkaart which is a one-off payment all-access card to over 100 museums in the Netherlands. Very handy indeed on a rainy day with nowhere to go and nothing in the cinema to see. The museum featured here is the Stedelijk Amsterdam, but it's under renovation till 2009.

What is Amsterdam without the tulips? Alas, the only tulips I get to see this trip, are these. Bulbs. Because the effing 77-acre Keukenhof Gardens with 7 million flowers is only open in spring. And I didn't know! *bash self over head* Just think about all the luvverly pikchas I could've taken, frolicking amongst petals and butterflies and sneezing non-stop!

What is Amsterdam without the red light district? Thank goodness this highlight of my trip didn't disappoint. Proud rainbow flags. Suggestive shop names and even more lewd display items. Drool-inducing scantily-clad girls dancing in display windows to music only they can hear.

Why is it located so close to Chinatown, though?

What is Amsterdam without the Ogress? Probably a better place. Where river ducks don't get terrorised, dancing girls don't get upset with camera trying to capture them, museum guards don't need to say "no cameras!" one more time...

Too bad-lah. I came, I saw, and I didn't smoke weed or eat mushrooms.

More pictures (not really a lot, because it was museum-ing all the way, kan) here.

cockring

Who needs a wedding ring when you can have this baby for some serious lovin'?

I'm back in London, ladies and gentlemen. I need more time to regain my bearings and sob on my pillow that my holiday is over. Be patient. Pictures will be up shortly.

eindhoven

Stansted Airport. I missed my bus to the airport (but managed to catch the next one) so ended up with no extra time to find nice angles to shoot nice pictures from. Took this after clearing a clear vision line between the legs of Dutch giants (yes, they're really tall) while waiting for boarding.

Nice church I saw while walking to Peter's. I don't understand what's the statue of a pile of intestines doing in front though. From this angle it looks like turd, even. *looks around warily for lightning*

The Netherlands is an hour ahead of London, so we get one more hour of sunshine. Yay for the solar-powered Jess! But their drinks come in the tiniest bottles imaginable. This is certainly the first time I lay eyes upon a 0.2L Coke Light. This street is the happening place in Eindhoven, and true enough, I see people (and one really fat dog)!

Ate at a Mexican restaurant. The burritos here are hee-yuuuuge. Took me damn near 2 hours to finish mine. Plenty yum though. Makes me miss Chilli's back in KL!

Okay have to go unpack and repack again. Hitting Amsterdam and Zeeland (yay beaches) the next 4 days. Keeping fingers crossed the weather would be good like the past 2 days have been.

monday

Monday. Got sick of writing and sending out CVs so I made pancakes for Mark who's talking away on the phone out in the garden. His expression of dawned understanding when I stood beside him, barefoot on the grass, with a plate of pancakes with honey and blackcurrant preserves in one hand and coffee in another... was priceless. Apparently I've just given him a lethal combined dosage of two of his favourite-est chow in the world. Chuckling and breathless from a big swirly hug, I went back inside to do the dishes. 3 minutes later I heard a loud "YUMMMMMMIEEEEE" and turned to see him whoop and war-dance holler on the grass.

Mark doesn't have to know that the pancake mix is past its expiry date.

Anyway, weather was superb so I took the tube down to Camden for a round of photography. Was hoping to catch a gig too, but alas, it's Monday (aka DEAD) night and nothing much was going on. Explored around Camden and discovered some nice spots, though... check out the rest in my Multiply.

I'm flying off to the Netherlands later. 10 days of tulips, decorative clogs, legalised drugs and tallest people in Europe. And my bankruptcy.

wild wild wes

Met up with Wes in Central on Saturday. Initial plan was to hit British Museum and Madame Tussaud's... but both choices were showered with huge meteorites of glitches. Most life-threatening one being Bel's precious camera blinking a "memory card error" when I first brandished it on that fine, sunny morning to take a picture outside British Museum.

Wah, talk about the rush of blood leaving my head. I couldn't believe how fucking jinxed I was (am?) when it comes to camera. My own camera died on the third day I got into London. And now her (more expensive) baby? NooOOOoooOOoOo!

So yeah. British Museum was me trudging sullenly behind Wes trying not to let my anxiety mar our day out. Could it be the memory card? Oh please let it be the memory card I cannot afford to replace her camera! We saw mummies and skeletal remains from Egypt. We saw bits and pieces of the Parthenon. Where can I find a Tesco to buy a cheap memory card and test it on the camera? I'm sure Tesco sells SD-cards. Wes and I grumbled when we couldn't find any prehistoric stuff. Apparently those are at another museum. Wes took some really interesting shots, but pictures would have to wait until he sends them over.

After British Museum (and a hearty lunch outside the museum with me having my first taste of breaded whitebait, fish & chips, Boston pie, bread & custard pudding and cranberry Snapple - thanks Wes, for officiating my pigginess) we finally found a SD-card in Argos and voila! It's not the camera after all! *phew* Maybe I killed the original card by inserting it into my lappy the night before to transfer pictures. Aiyaaaaa.

Proceeded to Baker Street for Madame Tussaud's. The tube station walls are peppered with weird colourful tiles like these. Upon closer inspection, I realised that they were...

"Baker Street is where Sherlock Holmes used to reside," Wes said nonchalantly.

I would've deduced so if given more time. Honest. How come I didn't know about this? I thought I read some Sherlock Holmes back in primary school. And there's an episode in CSI about the man, right? Grrrr. Spending one whole day with a Singaporean made me more kiasu than usual.

Finally arrived at Madame Tussaud's, but... we gave up upon seeing the crowd. Not a good idea to come on a weekend. Even if we manage to not pass out from queuing up with 50 rowdy schoolchildren and 35 loud parents dishing out threats to said schoolchildren, we wouldn't have a chance to get good pictures in there. So in the end we decided to...

London Day Trip

Bel wanted to go into Central to look for jobs in bookstores. I needed to get a book for my airport reading pleasure next week, find out how to take a bus into Central London from my area (actually it's from Bel's area, there's just no direct bus from my place), and also try out my new, lovingly borrowed camera (I love you long time, Bel!) for my Netherlands trip.

Bel's Canon semi-pro kicks my Olympus point-and-shoot's puny ass. So many buttons to push, levers to control, and instructions to remember. My fingers are crossed to the verge of bones breaking out of skin - please don't let this camera die on me. I need my holidaying pictures. And I'm too broke to buy a replacement if anything should happen to Bel's. Think positive think positive.

So we hit the most touristy part of town: Leicester Square and Trafalgar Square. I'm damn happy because I finally bought a nailclipper (you have no idea how difficult it is for me to find this in London! And I'm a bit sick of biting nails to keep them short - tummy worms are making bulging tummy bulgier!) and also... Stephen King's latest book! At half price from Waterstone's!

I now have sunshine, new camera, new nailclipper, and a new book from my favouritest author. Life is good. Oooooh there're plenty more pictures I took from new camera in my Multiply.

electropop

There you go: chips with curry sauce. I know a lot of you have been asking me what's this funny-name concoction, so here it is in full pictorial glory. British chips aren't American chips (sliced potato crisps like Pringles), but they're not fries or wedges either. Usually eaten with curry/barbeque/sweet and sour/satay sauce, or sore finger.

Note: Anyone who can decipher what's sore finger will get him/herself a pint of Ben & Jerry's of his/her choice. Hint: Put yourself in shoes and think with the English of a Chinese Chinese takeaway person. Took me days to figure it out. (yeah well selling flied lice ain't my lifelong ambition okay)

Anyway I'm officially addicted to the annoying British chips with curry sauce, eating a box of them every shift (thank God I work 2 nights a week) and turning a deaf ear to chef's warning of expanding buttocks and combusting weighing scales. I blame the curry sauce. A bastardisation of the authentic curry, but imagine a rich, thick yellow gravy brewed to smooth perfection using apples, oranges (beats me, too) and other weird secret ingredients... it's the yummm-ness.

And since we're on the topic of being British-ified, I have to raise my hand and admit another addiction... something I've scoffed at prior to getting ready for London life - electropop. Having sworn off music with synthesizers since I came off the NKOTB and Guys Next Door fever 15 years ago... I'm getting sucked right into the belly of the techno trippy boppy whale again. Alongside plankton and dead fish hurled my direction from my R&B-only clubbing gang.

I introduced Dragonette to Boo before I fled the country and she liked their music too. Yeah that's right, throw the squids and crustaceans at her! She's in KL, nearer! I mean, what's there not to like? Bright and loaded with the happiest catchy beats, very very danceable-to. And diabetes-inducing honey gravy vocals from Martina Sorbara - I can imagine myself plotting her mysterious disappearance and taking over. Not sure if anyone'd wanna Youtube the MV of the songs then, though. Favourite track from the album Galore: I Get Around.

Before my brains recover from reeling with happy boppiness and decaying seafood, they discovered Faithless. Of all the 4 names I'm discussing today, I must say Faithless has the most diverse sounds within an album. From subdued techno-beats to ambient lounge-beats and even pop, everyone can find his/her own favourite song from To All New Arrivals. Get ready for one helluva psychedelic technicolour ride. Favourite track: Bombs. Interesting find: The female vocals in Last This Day sounded too similar to Dido for comfort so I Wikipediaed and by golly, she's the sister of Faithless's headman and one song from each of their albums featured her. Now that's what I call family.

Si introduced me to Fischerspooner and The Faint. Heard the former in his car heading towards Ikea and let me tell you, Odyssey is meant for just that. Lazy Sunday afternoon drives with no particular destination. The hypnotic, soothing, almost-conversational vocals will make skies bluer, clouds puffier and minds emptier. (still aware of traffic, of course) Their music reminds me of my ex-happysong, Tracking Treasure Down by Gabriel & Dresden. I like songs I can clap along to! Favourite track: hmmmmm this is a tough one. What can I say, this is my favourite album of all.

The Faint has a rock edge to their music. Must be because they're from the States. Whoever heard of American electropop, eh? Very generous use of the synths in Danse Macabre (didn't Stephen King have a book with this title?), catchy tunes and beats but you probably wouldn't wanna listen to them after midnight when your next-door neighbour is a cranky 75-year-old Greek lady. I'd feature The Faint in a futuristic battle-of-the-robots kinda movie. Battle-of-the-futuristic-humans must feature Prodigy. Hehehe.

Okay enough of music talk. In a gist, electropop can be cool. Pathfinders, you guys better experiment more on Fruityloops and send me some happiness, dammit.

shopping

The sun came out to play during the weekend. Sitting in the car, stuck in a traffic jam going to the mall, looking up at fat clouds lazily strolling across blue skies, Muse on the player, air-cond blowing into my face... it felt just like home!

Anyway, the Ogress went to the mall for some shopping. Yes you read it right. The words "Jess" and "shopping" co-existed harmoniously in the same sentence. But I shouldn't do it too often. One can go out of her mind during Summer Sale. Everything is so cheap, dammit! (I've tuned my brains to not convert every single item into RM. Must. Think. Dollar. To. Dollar. Pound. To. Pound.)

On second thought: Aragon, you best not come London-lah. I retract my invitation to keep your sanity in good health.

Thank goodness I had only 10pounds in my wallet. Never in my previous KL life could I imagine paying RM7 for a pair of La Senza knickers. They're like the Tag Heuer of undies, non? It took all the willpower I had to not saunter over to the bra section and its evil, flashing 70% OFF EVERYTHING! sign. I want to upgrade from Triumph and Wacoal, dammit!

And what is the Jess without her happy-panties? Now I don't have to beg and grovel to friends to buy happy-panties from Target and mail them to me anymore. Finally. I have enough panties in my collection to not do laundry for one and a half week! Yay!

It's been very, very long since I'm a size-S, too. I love the UK!