Cheap thrills are good because they entertain you and they're cheap.

Marketing research professor:

Somebody wrote in the mid-term class evaluation suggesting muffins. There's this question in the evaluation that asks for suggestions for the class, and this person wrote, "Muffins". The good thing is that was all this person suggested... I like muffins, too, but let's not have that.

===

Guess who the culprit is.

I love having fun with evaluations.

They say, "Toe the line." I say, "What line?"

ALRIGHT. Time to update.

First of all, I am both loving and hating my new-found ambition. Loving it because it's what I like to do and what I've always wanted to do; Hating it because it's full of mountains and ocean trenches as the arts world always is, and because I risk wasting all my resources and efforts on something that has a 20% chance of working out (I'm in a good company, but locally, good guys don't get shit), in so doing accepting the opportunity cost of an accepted job with a good paycheck.

Adding to the whole risk-shmidtzh is the no-reply status of my former employer.





Hold on a minute while I breathe. And while I check the previous paragraphs for telltale information.




No wonder I'm turning to online erotica lately.





Yeah, you read that right. Online erotica. Online women's erotica to be exact. Not porn, (un)fortunately. My computer has a block against illegal sites. If you don't know the difference go wikipedia. To be honest, it's a molecular-thin line.

Most times I'd say I hope my mum doesn't find this blog, or I'd just delete that comment, plain and simple. But I have to say, I think my mum half knows. Or at least suspects. When your window faces your parents' bedroom, drawn blinds can be very suspicious on your side.

And now I can foresee a flood of spam on my tagboard. Damn.







Hey, I still play by the rules of this society, okay? Just because I read about stuff doesn't make me a practitioner. Don't get any ideas.

We want because we do not have.

Wishlist for Christmas:

Money
Earring Rack
Jewellry box/holder that allows me keep chains untangled (ie, segmented)
City Hunter comics
Place where I can dance regularly without too much strain on my pocket
An offer to play Emily of Emerald Hill
Simple movie date with a certain guy (ha...)
Boyfriend in the form of said guy (HA...)

It never gets easier just because you figure out what the next step is.

I saw a christmas tree loaded with purple lights outside Orchard Ion.

I like purple. Pretty.

Feel like writing sap here, but refuse to allow myself to do that. I just hope it turns out good.

A loving touch helps anything

Ear holes are healing nicely. Right ear hole had been resistant, but is easing up with some gentle coaxing.

Having a slightly rotten day.

Things we do for art.

Got my ears pierced. Gah. Now I can't rub my earlobes anymore.

I liked my ears un-holey.

Why? Because the spanish dance company requires me to wear looped earrings. I've complained quite a bit already. Time to bring it online for mass distribution of my complaining.

Strangers passing through

On my way to dinner at Newton Circus, I ran into 2 Japanese girls asking for directions to the same place, so I took them there myself. Turned out to be quite an interesting experience.

They spoke smatterings of English, I spoke no Japanese (as in, literally, zilch). We walked a huge merry-go-round (because I was such a law-abiding citizen and the roads at that spot weren't exactly in the most convenient layout), made a wrong turn and then finally got there.

Once there, we sat down together, ordered stingray and squid rings (okay, the latter was purely my own gluttony at work) before we all ordered our own stuff. We had strange conversations which more or less followed a particular format, whereby I would ask a question, and they would talk between themselves in Japanese about what I meant and what would be the right answer, before they gave me their answer.

Well, what I can gather are: They are on summer vacation; in Singapore for the first time and only for a day; leaving for Istanbul, Turkey later that night on a 13-hour flight.

No names. No contacts. Just three strangers having good food and good fun.