tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67982802009-07-12T15:58:08.306+08:00Little Miss DrinkalotLittle Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.comBlogger1099125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-53823782088070762242009-06-20T17:51:00.004+08:002009-06-20T17:57:48.102+08:00Setting the standard with one ikan bilis<div align="justify">When I was younger, Dad used to ask me what I would feed him in his old age. My reply was always "One ikan bilis". Dad would go "Hah?!" and ruffle my hair in mock despair.<br /><br />Tomorrow is Father's Day. Dad asked me where I would be taking him for lunch and I think he must have been pleased with my answer.<br /><br />MacDonald's is a vast improvement over one ikan bilis.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-5382378208807076224?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-28988057096080875502009-04-20T22:30:00.004+08:002009-04-20T22:55:30.715+08:00Every little girl should have an older brother<div align="justify">Mom left some black and white photos on my desk today. They say pictures say a thousand words. These photos speak far more.<br /><br />Looking at the photo of my 4 year old brother (sittingascloseashecouldgettomybed) gazing upon my crying-with-one-fist-raised-in-the-air 1 year old self - I know he's loved me since I was a baby. (Ok ok, give and take our adolescent years when we just bashed each other up all the time.)<br /><br />Yeah. Older brothers rock.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-2898805709608087550?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-8156844313567734062009-03-22T20:11:00.005+08:002009-03-22T22:19:20.668+08:00Women are from Venus but I am from... Jupiter?<div align="justify">One of the things I like about growing older is the corresponding (well, in most cases) increase in self-confidence (or fool-hardiness, depending on how you see it). Plucking up my courage, I attended my first gay women's party - alone - at the invite of the organiser.<br /><br />Being the social butterfly and consummate hostess that she is, she made sure I was introduced to as many of her friends as possible. Out of the gazillion women I met, one stood out with her air of cool nonchalence. I was irresistably drawn to her eyes - skilfully drawn to resemble that of a cat's. We chatted about nothing for a while, and then she invited me to dance. I would have liked to engage in more scintillating conversation, but it was impossible to do so given the environment.<br /><br />Unfortunately, it seems I am just as bad at reading women's vibes as I am men's. To my disappointment, I later found out that she's attached and unavailable. (Side comment/complaint: You know, all these gay women come to parties in groups and they are all so touchy-feely with each other, how the hell am I supposed to know who's available and who's not? Also, there is nothing to be read into the actions of women who caress your back and press their boobs into your arm. Just goes to show how un-gay I am.)<br /><br />Then there was the girl who was apparently "making eyes" at me. <em>Really?!?</em> was my response when told about it. That earned me some eye-rolling, and most probably cemented my reputation as a dweeb.<br /><br />I think I'm going to lay off the scene - any scene - for the next century or so. Mojo's on holiday in Antarctica and seems to have lost his way. I can now fully empathise with my male friends who complain about how difficult women are to understand. *nods head* </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-815684431356773406?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-77288370839521198582009-03-11T00:01:00.003+08:002009-03-11T00:32:09.558+08:00Wake up your idea<div align="justify">You know, people who ask me to print documents for them because they're 1) too stupid to make amendments/edits on softcopy and 2) too lazy to walk to the printer to pick up the printed documents themselves can seriously go and f*** off.<br /><br />So of course I said <em>No, you can print it yourself if you really have to print it</em>. To which he tried to cajole me into printing it out for him, to which I again said <em>No</em>, to which he <em>tsked</em> and started to get upset and whine, to which I AGAIN said <em>NO.</em> By this time my temper was <em>juuuust</em> about to bubble over, but lucky for him he backed down - otherwise I really don't know what would have happened.<br /><br />Obviously my Seven Levels of Hell Kung Fu has been secretly storing power. I never imagined I could/would tell my staff to "wake up" but even that was surprisingly easy. Wonder what tomorrow will bring?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-7728837083952119858?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-7630457211433818692009-03-03T22:44:00.010+08:002009-03-04T00:16:56.418+08:00I ask for more Patience and Tolerance<div align="justify">Of late I have been painstakingly practicing my Seven Levels of Heaven Kung Fu. This particular <em>men</em> of Kung Fu emphasises heavily on Patience and Tolerance. On a daily basis, I practice my Kung Fu by 1) abstaining from horning and/or swearing at drivers that cut into my lane, 2) slowing down to allow indicating traffic to filter into my lane and 3) not throwing a fit when my staff forgets (yet again) to do a task I have assigned to her.<br /><br />I have discovered to my dismay, however, that my Seven Levels of Heaven Kung Fu is no match for the Utter Stupidity Kung Fu which beats me to the ground with a single blow. No amount of Patience and Tolerance can stop my wild-eyed, frothing-at-the-mouth ravings AAARRRGGHHOWBLOODYSTUPIDCANPEOPLEGETARGHARGHARGHHH after which I have to leave my desk and go for a short walk to calm myself down.<br /><br />Time to <em>Bi Guan Xiu Lian</em>.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-763045721143381869?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-54906105813472884112009-02-16T22:22:00.005+08:002009-02-21T01:11:44.207+08:00Take me! to your leader<div align="justify">For friends who have been suspecting that aliens have zapped me into oblivion and now control the humanoid-that-looks-like-me via puppet strings, this weekend has proven their theory beyond doubt.<br /><br />A couple of friends and I flew up to KL for some serious pigging out, and somehow we ended up at a bar. With us was X (haha, I'm so original), who is actually a friend of my friends and who I've met several times. We were pretty civilised up until the second bottle of wine, when he suddenly blurted out <em>You're more fun when you're drunk</em> and then proceeded to order vodka shots all round.<br /><br />After the third vodka shot, I excused myself and went to the ladies. When I returned to the table, X turned to me and said <em>So what about it, shall we head off somewhere? </em>To my credit the I-think-I'm-going-to-get-some-action-tonight radar whirred slightly, but serious interference from the alien mothership resulted in <em>Huh-what?</em> reactions from me. I mean, up until that very moment, there had not been <em>any</em> signals from him, much less me.<br /><br />To drive his point home, he then proceeded to pick me up and carry me out of the bar ala caveman style (I suspect he would have swung me over his shoulder if I hadn't screamed so much). My friends managed to persuade him to put me down - but not before taking several incriminating photographs.<br /><br />At this point in time, he drags me out of the bar and <em>pins me against the wall</em> (on hindsight, very sexy), before propositioning me again, in terms that made his intentions so clear I could not <em>Huh-what?</em> him again.<br /><br />Now, 2 or 3 years ago the scene would have been very different. Firstly, my arms would have been wrapped <em>around</em> him, not <em>between</em> us Ultraman style. Secondly, the words coming out of my mouth would more likely have been along the lines of <em>Take/kiss/f*** me</em>, and not <em>I'm frigid,</em> <em>I don't want to sleep with you</em>.<br /><br />I have to say I amaze myself still. <em>I'm frigid???</em> I attribute it to the alcohol, it gives me inspiration. On a serious note, I was just sharing with my friends that I seem to have lost interest in men/women/sex. Zilch. Kaput. Yawn. I suppose I should be worried that my friends seem more worried than me, but I guess it's just another phase I'm going through.<br /><br />Of course, the other more plausible explanation is that I <em>have </em>been abducted by aliens.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-5490610581347288411?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-27001242542330163502009-02-07T15:40:00.005+08:002009-02-07T16:11:54.763+08:00String memories<div align="justify">Despite my professions of <a href="http://littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com/2009/02/why-is-your-cupboard-so-neat.html">clearing out the clutter in my room</a>, some sentiments are just too difficult to ignore.<br /><br />Behold my "collection" of bikinis from ohmygod 8 - 10 years ago.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SY077ZyQ4bI/AAAAAAAAAFs/BYs4IL7XeQM/s1600-h/DSC02235.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299958228204970418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SY077ZyQ4bI/AAAAAAAAAFs/BYs4IL7XeQM/s320/DSC02235.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Back then when I was wakeboarding every weekend, it made sense to have several bikinis. Afterall, I couldn't possibly be seen wearing the same bikini week after week.<br /><br />These days, the only time I would need to wear a bikini is when I go diving - which again seems to be turning into a hobby of the past (more than 2 years since my last dive trip). And knowing how swimwear (I use this term loosely, seeing as how I never really did any <em>swimming</em> in them) has a nasty tendency to lose it's elasticity after a while and snap/break apart at the most inopportune moments - it is safe to say that I will never be wearing any of these bikinis ever again.<br /><br />But I can't bring myself to throw them away. <br /><br />So many wonderful memories, held together by string.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-2700124254233016350?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-22304286583716545682009-02-07T14:55:00.004+08:002009-02-07T15:16:20.975+08:00Why is your cupboard so neat<div align="justify">Asked the brother with incredulity. <em>Your hangers are evenly spaced out!</em><br /><br />I think I'm starting to exhibit obsessive compulsive behaviour. Every weekend, I take great delight in organising/clearing out/cleaning some part of my room. The previous weekend, it was my shoe cupboard. Last weekend, it was my dresser drawer. This weekend, I re-visited my wardrobe (which I had cleared out just before Chinese New Year!). After years of keeping stuff because of sentimental and/or stupid reasons like, <em>I paid $XXX and have never worn it but maybe I'll wear it in future</em>, it feels good to clear.<br /><br />My girlfriends will be pleased to know I have also started to practice good make-up hygiene habits by throwing out my mascara after 1 year even though it's only half-used. I know the professionals recommend 3 - 6 months (3 - 6 months!!!) but I <em>just can't do it</em>... On the bright side, 1 year is a marked improvement over my previous record of erm, a few years. (Yes, the looks of horror on their faces was quite entertaining.)<br /><br />Or maybe I'm just finally starting to evolve.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-2230428658371654568?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-82671227849258350322009-01-16T22:15:00.003+08:002009-01-16T22:25:43.249+08:00SobYay<div align="justify">Today was a strange day. Got my ass burnt to a crisp in the morning by my boss, who later in the evening delivered sweet <em>sweet</em> news of a bonus that was completely beyond my expectations.<br /><br />I hope this kicks me out of the rut that I've been in recently, ass cannot take anymore frying.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-8267122784925835032?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-36405873750401222882009-01-11T20:14:00.004+08:002009-01-11T20:27:22.382+08:00The Art of Ren<div align="justify">My Dad continually amazes me with his sense of humour. So Mom was commenting on how people these days cannot <em>ren</em> (tolerate) - resulting in divorces, road rage etc - whereas in the past, <em>ren</em> was a highly esteemed and practiced virtue. (Can't help thinking of the movie <a href="http://www.empiremovies.com/movies/2003/hero.shtml">Hero</a>, or have I got my movies mixed up?)<br /><br />Dad then quipped that the only time people really need to <em>ren</em> is when they need to shit and can't find a toilet. (In this respect, I am a Master.)</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-3640587375040122288?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-31731634097160554792009-01-10T22:01:00.004+08:002009-01-11T00:09:55.071+08:00Starting the year Alone<div align="justify">The (Ex) Girlfriend and I have broken up.<br /><br />For the past month or so, I could sense she had lost interest in me/the relationship, and unlike the last time, I did not try and salvage the relationship because I have come to accept that we are just too different. It is not anybody's fault, and we have both tried (although, our definitions of "try" are as different as we are) to make it work.<br /><br />We had our good times, and I want to remember her for all the beautiful things that she is. I just wish she hadn't been so callous about the break-up, but I suppose the MSN conversation was telling of the state of affairs and conveyed an even stronger message than what was actually said.<br /><br />I am looking forward to a new year and I know it's going to be a good year.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-3173163409716055479?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-24751363478944354152009-01-02T21:51:00.006+08:002009-01-02T22:12:26.477+08:00Random thought<div align="justify">You know how humans go around breeding animals - nurturing particular characteristics and eliminating others? Well, I think we should do that for the human race too. Then we can categorise people easily - oh he's a jerk, she's a bitch, you want sweet dumb thing or here's an elitist snob. Makes it so much easier when it comes to choosing a life partner/making friends/hiring people/electing leaders, just pick a characteristic you like/want and viola.<br /><br />I would of course fall under the category of "Too Good" - which isn't always a good thing but in a perfect world there are always the "Worthy Ofs".</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-2475136347894435415?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-51393402384341362692009-01-01T15:27:00.013+08:002009-01-01T21:57:44.452+08:00More Adventures in Incredible India<div align="justify">Ah, the first day of 2009. It's been far too long since I've tried writing anything, but I really want to share my 2 weeks in India - even though I know I'll never be able to share everything that I've seen, felt or thought about.<br /><br />*****<br /><br />Day 1 & 2<br /><br />We arrived at the spanking new Bangalore (or Bengaluru) International Airport and headed straight to Puttaparthy - home of <a href="http://www.sathyasai.org/">Sai Baba</a>. I wanted to attend the afternoon darshan (to experience it) on the second day, but it was far too crowded and I did not manage to get into the darshan hall. Other than that, I spent most of the time sleeping/resting while The Girlfriend soaked up the spiritual atmosphere she loves so much.<br /><br />Day 3, 4 & 5<br /><br />We headed south to the old French town of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puducherry">Pondicherry</a> where we stayed at the charming heritage <a href="http://www.hotelduparc.co.in/">Hotel du Parc</a>. From here, we made day trips out to Auroville and Mahabalipuram.<br /><br />When The Girlfriend first told me about <a href="http://www.auroville.org/index.htm">Auroville</a>, for some reason I had imagined it to be a factory outlet (!!!) of sorts. So it was rather disorientating when I actually got there and realised that it is in fact an <em>experiment</em> - a spiritual community of people living and working towards the one goal of human unity. I have to confess my initial reaction was almost of derision - for so many reasons this is an impossible goal - but the visionary Sri Aurobindo said "...<em>there is no reason why a temporary approximation to it should not be the reward of strenuous aspiration and untiring effort</em>..." and while it is not an experiment I would partake of, I respect that there are people who truly believe in it's possibility.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVyOVTxE8xI/AAAAAAAAAEs/aLF-p6p-0GI/s1600-h/Matrimandi+at+Auroville.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286256559360635666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVyOVTxE8xI/AAAAAAAAAEs/aLF-p6p-0GI/s320/Matrimandi+at+Auroville.JPG" border="0" /></a><em>The Matrimandi at Auroville - which houses a meditation chamber</em><br /><br /><a href="http://www.pilgrimage-india.com/south-india-pilgrimage/mahabalipuram.html">Mahabalipuram</a> is a little town famous for its Shore Temple and many stone temples which feature exquisite wall carvings and rock cuttings. What was meant to be a quick look-see turned into a full hour of climbing and exploring. We also cruised the many workshops famous for their stone sculptures, although I was rather disappointed at the quality of many pieces that I saw.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVyRUxuY4rI/AAAAAAAAAE8/OyEOSu4xHic/s1600-h/IMG_2167.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286259848757437106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVyRUxuY4rI/AAAAAAAAAE8/OyEOSu4xHic/s320/IMG_2167.JPG" border="0" /></a><em>The Shore Temple</em><br /><br />At night, we wandered the streets of Pondicherry, which were brightly lit and had a very carnival atmosphere with all their brightly coloured clothes and wares hung out on display. We chanced upon a night market and spent some time poking around their fruits and spices. I whipped out my camera to take some photos and was rather surprised when the man at the stall barked <em>No photo, hate photo!</em><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVyuJULWLEI/AAAAAAAAAFk/7hdD7imFc4k/s1600-h/IMG_2188.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286291537684474946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVyuJULWLEI/AAAAAAAAAFk/7hdD7imFc4k/s320/IMG_2188.JPG" border="0" /></a><em>The Indian version of Christmas decorations</em><br /><br />Day 6 & 7<br /><br />I came across <a href="http://www.thedunehotel.com/">The Dune Hotel</a> in my guidebook (I recommend Frommer's), and instantly fell in love with it. The quirky rooms and bright colours appealed to the hippie in me and I just HAD to experience it myself. Needless to say, it was absolutely awesome and I loved my room (The Flex House), the food (delicious BBQ seafood) and the 4 pet dogs (1 very fat golden retriever, 1 fat German Shephard, 1 almost pudgy Dalmation and 1 still trim mongrel).<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVyU1dXEgiI/AAAAAAAAAFE/0IPUpa-56Uw/s1600-h/IMG_2198.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286263708761489954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVyU1dXEgiI/AAAAAAAAAFE/0IPUpa-56Uw/s320/IMG_2198.JPG" border="0" /></a><em>Very Fat Golden Retriever taking a nap after lunch</em><br /><br />We also could not resist trying the Ayurvedic treatments on offer at the Veda Spa. I opted for the Rejuvenating and Refreshing massages, while The Girlfriend went for the whole works with a package that included dripping oil and other treatments. The massages were very oily and I can't say I enjoyed them very much - I am used to the tension relieving types of massage that hit the sore spots which these massages didn't, but I suppose they worked on my chakra points instead - regardless, if they were meant to cleanse my body of toxins then they were 100% effective because from day 7 onwards my tummy did not stop running until I came home.<br /><br />Day 8, 9 & 10<br /><br />We left bright and early for the hill station of <a href="http://www.thekkady.com/htm/tourist.htm">Thekkady</a> in the state of Kerala, used by the late governors of India as a cool retreat during the sultry Indian summers. This was the most punishing journey of all - travelling by car for 12 hours whilst having diarrhea is highly unrecommended, I survived only because I popped some Lomotil and refused to eat or drink anything the whole day.<br /><br />I was looking forward to exploring the <a href="http://www.indianwildlifeportal.com/wildlife-sanctuaries/periyar-wildlife-sanctuary.html">Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary</a> and perhaps spotting a tiger or two, but after another night of toilet visitations I decided I really shouldn't engage in any physical activity, much less a day of bamboo rafting and jungle trekking. We settled instead for the river cruise and were indeed very fortunate to sight a herd of wild elephant, bison, samba deer, otters, wild boars and even a tortoise.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVyeQPnfo2I/AAAAAAAAAFM/CQZz8Nb4_FY/s1600-h/IMG_2225.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286274064533398370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVyeQPnfo2I/AAAAAAAAAFM/CQZz8Nb4_FY/s320/IMG_2225.JPG" border="0" /></a><em>Herd of wild elephants in the Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary</em><br /><br />We also strolled the streets and I really wanted to pop into the shops selling very pretty clothes and rugs but was scared off by the blood thirsty shop owners whose opening lines were invariably <em>Where you from? Japan?</em> or <em>Come inside and look. Looking is free.</em> Most of the time though, was spent in the hotel room watching Star Movies and sleeping.<br /><br />Day 11 & 12<br /><br />Our next destination was relatively near - <a href="http://www.tourism-of-india.com/munnar.html">Munnar</a>, home of tea and cardamon plantations. This was by far my favourite destination in India. Munnar is breathtakingly beautiful, with rolling hills covered with lush greenery for as far as the eye can see. Occasionally, gurgling creeks break the sea of green. The brilliant blue sky is cloudless, and at night, the many hundreds of tiny stars sparkling and winking down at you silence you with their beauty.<br /><br />Our choice of accomodation was suitably apt, although extremely difficult to locate (no sign boards and nobody we asked knew where it was) and it was by sheer luck we chanced upon the "hotel jeep". <a href="http://www.thenaturezone.org/">Nature Zone Jungle Park</a> is located right at the top of a hill about 7km in from the town, accessible only by winding dirt tracks through tea plantations. To be honest, the website I found the "hotel" from did not offer much information and I wasn't sure whether to expect a real tree-house when I booked the "luxury tree-house room".<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVylsiQPQTI/AAAAAAAAAFU/DhTZei0fOYs/s1600-h/IMG_2230.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286282247153860914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVylsiQPQTI/AAAAAAAAAFU/DhTZei0fOYs/s320/IMG_2230.JPG" border="0" /></a><em>Tree trunk in the middle of the room</em><br /><br />Of course, it was indeed a tree-house, complete with modern bathroom facilities. I was amazed at the double bed and hot water, but these paled in comparison with the natural beauty that lay outside. In the afternoon, I sat outside on the balcony and luxuriated in the crisp fresh air and sunlight filtering through the leaves. Later, in the evening, we took a short trek up to the top where we were mesmerised by an amazing sunset and more incredible views of nature.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVymlY9i0KI/AAAAAAAAAFc/vcsED71rjGQ/s1600-h/DSC00341.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286283223912075426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LrE1z1jte34/SVymlY9i0KI/AAAAAAAAAFc/vcsED71rjGQ/s320/DSC00341.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="justify"></a><em>Sunset in Munnar</em><br /><br />The only disadvantage to all this nature however, was the lack of any heating facilities. At night, temperatures dropped to around 5 degrees celsius - which we were totally unprepared for. While the 3 layers of blanket kept us toasty in bed, having to wake up and run to the toilet in the middle of the night was all too reminiscent of winter in London.<br /><br />Day 13<br /><br />It was with heavy hearts that we descended into dusty, sultry <a href="http://www.madurai.com/">Madurai</a>, famous for its Meenakshi Temple (amongst others). We managed a quick visit and while the temple was beautiful, we were slightly put off by how commercialized it had become with the priests insisting we put down more and more money for the poojas we did.<br /><br />Day 14<br /><br />We braced ourselves for the final journey (another 12 hours) back to Bangalore to catch the midnight flight back home. Once again, we passed farmlands and many forgotten small towns. The piles of rubbish along the roads and drains clogged with scum and stagnant water had become a familiar sight, as have men peeing by the roadside. Walking barefoot is still very common, and while the thought of one man walking over another's fresh warm pee still makes my stomach lurch - I now realise it's perfectly normal to them.<br /><br />*****<br /><br />This has been a punishing holiday - physically, mentally and spiritually. Regardless, it was an experience I truly enjoyed and yes, I would do it all over again (perhaps not the 12 hour car journeys though). India provokes all the senses and more - and really, there is no better way to experience India than to be there. (Although, disclaimer, I do NOT want to experience taking a public bus in India.)</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-5139340238434136269?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-23052457630979677312008-12-08T21:09:00.004+08:002008-12-09T01:39:02.226+08:00Saving the world buying one bag at a time<div align="justify">This morning The Girlfriend and I went to the airport for breakfast and some shopping. According to her, the shops at T3 were offering <a href="http://www.changiairport.com/colours/">GST-free shopping</a> at participating outlets. She wanted to buy a(nother) new packback for our upcoming trip to India and I knew better than to stop her.<br /><br />Apparently, I don't own a backpack. The last time round, I had borrowed my brother's icky 20-year old backpack because I could not find my own 15-year old blue and white polka-dotted backpack. (I <em>really</em> don't remember throwing/giving it away, even after I crashed out of my polka dot phase.)<br /><br />The Girlfriend offered to buy me a backpack but I declined because it cost $159 (!!!) and I will probably never ever use it again. Or not until the next trip to India. To illustrate why this was such an outright <em>no-I-don't-want-it </em>decision, allow me to share that I saw a really nice handbag that 1) I would probably use everyday for the next X months and 2) cost about $100 3) a few weeks ago, and I'm <em>still </em>thinking about whether I should buy it!!!<br /><br />Then she said she would buy it for <em>herself</em> and <em>lend it to me</em> for the trip. Now, I really shouldn't be encouraging her to buy TWO backpacks at one go - it's like me buying two handbags at once - but this arrangement did not offend my austerity-senses as much as her first suggestion, so I said Ok.<br /><br />Then we went to <a href="http://www.harnn.com/index.php">Harnn and Thann</a> which is like, one of my favourite shops (but then, I love all aromatherapy shops), and spent several minutes in heaven smelling all the heavenly scents. Out of the 5 five senses - sight, sound, scent, taste and touch - I am truly a scent person. Everytime I walk past shops like <a href="http://www.crabtree-evelyn.com.sg/">Crabtree & Evelyn</a>, <a href="http://www.loccitane.com/29/1/2270/34000/A-True-Story.htm">l'Occitane</a>, <a href="http://www.perfectpotion.com.sg/">Perfect Potion</a>, and <a href="http://www.moltonbrown.com/">Molton Brown</a>, I just HAVE to pop in for a quick <strike>fix</strike> sniff.<br /><br />The Girlfriend then showed me a shampoo she liked but didn't want to buy because <em>no-lah-I-don't-need-it,</em> so I got it for her. This is no good. Seeing as how The Girlfriend and I are willing to spend on things that the other wouldn't, there is now nothing in the world that we wouldn't buy.<br /><br />After that we went to the Candy House where we were given a tumbler to fill with candies. The sweet selection wasn't anything to crow about - but it was a really fun experience to go into a candy house and have two whole minutes to stuff as much candy as you can into the tumbler! Reminds me of the supermarket game show where contestants have to fill their trolley with the highest value of groceries...<br /><br />Feeling tired after all that excitement, we went home. I then decided to check on the prices for similar Harnn & Thann items I had bought previously... and realised they were the same! GST savings my farty ass indeed.<br /><br />I think I will buy that handbag afterall.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-2305245763097967731?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-2576211030925097302008-11-10T21:57:00.005+08:002008-11-10T22:24:35.501+08:00Bark! Park! Dark! Fark!<div align="justify">This morning my mom bundled a very excited Lily into the car for a visit to the park. Unfortunately, no one could have anticipated the speed at which the sky turned dark. Mom had to turn back even before Lily could step paw on some park grass.<br /><br />I wish I could have seen the bewildered look on Lily's face when the car door opened and she found herself back home. According to my mom, it was a very obvious "You silly woman, why are we at home!?" look of disbelief.<br /><br />The dog's too smart for her own good, I say.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-257621103092509730?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-81143554421560861542008-11-06T23:54:00.003+08:002008-11-07T00:08:53.812+08:00Zero generation evolution<div align="justify">I caught sight of her across the room. <em>She's so gay!</em> was the first thought that flashed across my mind. I sneaked a second look at her, and realised with a certain degree of... horror-slash-amusement, that it was as if I was looking at myself in the mirror - the hair... the dressing... the everything...</div><br />Oh my God, I really <em>do</em> <a href="http://littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-generation-evolution.html">look gay</a>.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-8114355442156086154?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-47069204402207551262008-10-11T01:58:00.003+08:002008-10-11T03:09:51.726+08:00The White Rabbit<div align="justify">Dinner tonight was at <a href="http://www.thewhiterabbit.com.sg/">The White Rabbit</a>. I'd heard that it's always fully booked, but looking round tonight I saw several empty tables.<br /><br />Here's a quick and dirty review:<br /><br />1) Onion rolls were good. Warm and chewy.<br />2) I thought the Mushroom Cappucino was a bit of a rip off as half the cup was merely foam. Wouldn't have been so bad if the foam had been thick and creamy but it was really thin and airy.<br />3) The Oxtail Stew was very good, although I thought the description "... with carrots and onions..." would have warranted more than 3 tiny onions and 2 miniscule slices of carrot. Apart from being ultra stingy on the vegetables, the meat was tender and flavourful.<br />4) The Girlfriend's Rack of Lamb was also tender and flavourful, and had at least an acceptable serving of potatoes.<br />5) Ambience was nice - although the high ceiling made for surround-sound noise effects.<br /><br />Dinner was good and we'll probably return, sometime.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-4706920440220755126?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-74524737365673337972008-10-10T00:33:00.003+08:002008-10-10T00:39:57.096+08:00One year<div align="justify">Today is a very special day. It marks the first anniversary of my journey with The Girlfriend. She has been a stabilising influence in my life, and has helped me in my journey along life's path.<br /><br />Who knows what other great things will happen in the next year?<br /><br />Happy Anniversary, honey.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-7452473736567333797?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-66157381756792757912008-10-07T23:16:00.003+08:002008-10-07T23:29:13.493+08:00I am an online game nerdI hope this does not spark off another crazy addiction for <em>some people</em>, but my latest <strike>addiction</strike> past-time is the online version of <a href="http://www.blokus.com/online-game/">Blokus</a>.<br /><br />Go try it!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-6615738175679275791?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-91135623773260518212008-10-06T00:24:00.002+08:002008-10-06T01:40:55.537+08:00And you thought you knew your friends<div align="justify">It came as a rather unpleasant surprise to find out that my dear friend does not appreciate my leaving comments on her blog - construing them as encroachments onto her personal space and as attacks on her opinions. The aggression in her responses took me aback, because all I had sought was a (normal, healthy) discussion - but as I later found out, she felt that I shouldn't have made <em>any</em> comment at all.<br /><br />There are so many things I find wrong with the above, but none quite as ridiculous as my having to post my thoughts on my blog in order to have any further "discussion" on the topic, seeing as how her response to my explanation was that she didn't see a point in any further discussion and (get this) "You have your blog". It seems the only way to express my opinions (on this particular topic) now is via this here blog - I have a right to express them, just not to her.<br /><br />I don't know. If I didn't like people leaving comments on my blog - I would just disable the comments function. But suppose I choose not to disable the comments function - then I would first tell my friend (nicely) to please not leave comments... as opposed to biting their heads off when they do (unknowingly).<br /><br />And while I occasionally do not see any point carrying on a particular discussion, I would still do so if the other party wanted to. I would not close the discussion off in my mind and expect the other party to know and then get angry when they pursue/say something more about the subject. After all her "I have a right to express my opinions" - I find it ironic that I can't (at least not to her).<br /><br />I've lost all interest in discussing the original topic any further, but can't shake off the (delayed) feeling that I've not been treated right - hence this post. Am curious where this will take us, but better to have it out than running around in my head, ya?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-9113562377326051821?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-41967093755413394762008-10-05T20:47:00.005+08:002008-10-06T21:28:07.329+08:00"So man!" - 1, "Maternal instincts" - 0<div align="justify">After dinner the other day, The Friends decided it was still early and so we adjourned to one of the friend's homes which was nearby. As we settled ourselves down in the living room, the wife excused herself as it was time for her baby's bath. The rest of the girls (3 of them) leapt up excitedly and followed the new mother into the bathroom.<br /><br />At this point in time, I was admiring the cushion I was hugging - it had the word LESBIAN printed on it - and marvelling at the co-incidence, so it took me a while to realise that I was the only female left in a room of 4 men watching soccer on TV.<br /><br />.<br />.<br />.<br /><br />When it struck me, I wondered which was worse - watching a baby getting a bath or watching soccer on TV. Those who know me will not be surprised to find out that I chose to watch soccer on TV.<br /><br />In truth, I would have preferred to erm, browse <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Playboy-Book-Fifty-Years/dp/3822839760">The Playboy Book </a>that another male friend was <strike>perving over</strike> thumbing through. Maybe next time.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-4196709375541339476?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-15903583872383303672008-10-05T00:30:00.003+08:002008-10-05T00:49:07.723+08:00A Hungry Man is an Angry Man<div align="justify">It seems that Dad has regressed into a little kid - throwing temper tantrums whenever he doesn't get his way.<br /><br />I was at the supermarket earlier this evening and decided to pick up some cookies and chocolate for Dad. When I got home, Dad was sitting in the living room watching TV. I whipped out the cookies and chocolate with a flourish - and was a little disappointed at the lukewarm response my goodies received.<br /><br />Then I went to look for Mom, who informed me that Dad was sulking because she had said "no" when he asked her to go out with him to get some supper earlier. So she asked me to take my Dad out for supper.<br /><br />So I trot out again and ask Dad if he wants supper - to which he throws his arms up in the air and waves them about for dramatic effect while exclaiming <em>Dowan! I dowan anything!</em><br /><br />...<br /><br />So I went to play with Lily.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-1590358387238330367?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-14643473200635809152008-09-23T00:29:00.002+08:002008-09-23T00:32:51.215+08:00Still very much a little girl<div align="justify">I have to confess...<br /><br />I have been spending my free time playing Neopets!<br /><br />Brainless entertainment, yes, that be what I need.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-1464347320063580915?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-16305733676293579152008-08-30T19:43:00.004+08:002008-08-30T21:34:46.712+08:00The Omnivore's Hundred<div align="justify">From <a href="http://toomanythoughts.org/blog/">Tym</a>... (which originates at <a href="http://www.verygoodtaste.co.uk/uncategorised/the-omnivores-hundred/">Very Good Taste</a>)<br /><br />Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.<br />Bold all the items you've eaten.<br />Cross out any items that you would never consider eating<br /><br />1. <strong>Venison</strong><br />2. Nettle tea<br />3. Huevos rancheros<br />4. Steak tartare<br />5. Crocodile<br />6. <strike>Black pudding</strike><br />7. <strike>Cheese fondue</strike><br />8. <strong>Carp</strong><br />9. <strike>Borscht</strike><br />10. <strong>Baba ghanoush</strong><br />11. <strong>Calamari</strong><br />12. <strong>Pho</strong><br />13. PB&J sandwich<br />14. Aloo gobi - maybe<br />15. <strong>Hot dog from a street cart</strong><br />16. <strike>Epoisses</strike><br />17. <strong>Black truffle</strong><br />18. <strong>Fruit wine made from something other than grapes</strong><br />19. <strong>Steamed pork buns</strong><br />20. <strong>Pistachio ice cream</strong><br />21. Heirloom tomatoes<br />22. <strong>Fresh wild berries</strong><br />23. <strong>Foie gras</strong><br />24. <strong>Rice and beans</strong><br />25. <strike>Brawn, or head cheese</strike><br />26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper<br />27. Dulce de leche<br />28. <strong>Oysters</strong><br />29. <strong>Baklava</strong><br />30. Bagna cauda<br />31. <strong>Wasabi peas</strong><br />32. <strong>Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl</strong><br />33. <strike>Salted lassi</strike><br />34. <strong>Sauerkraut</strong><br />35. <strong>Root beer float</strong><br />36. Cognac with a fat cigar<br />37. <strike>Clotted cream tea</strike><br />38. <strong>Vodka jelly/Jell-O</strong><br />39. <strong>Gumbo</strong><br />40. <strong>Oxtail</strong><br />41. <strong>Curried goat</strong><br />42. <strike>Whole insects</strike><br />43. <strike>Phaal</strike><br />44. <strike>Goat's milk</strike><br />45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth US$120 or more<br />46. <strong>Fugu</strong><br />47. <strong>Chicken tikka masala</strong><br />48. <strong>Eel</strong><br />49. <strong>Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut</strong><br />50. <strong>Sea urchin</strong><br />51. Prickly pear<br />52. <strong>Umeboshi</strong> - not on it's own but possibly as an ingredient<br />53. <strong>Abalone</strong><br />54. <strike>Paneer</strike><br />55. <strike>McDonald's Big Mac Meal</strike> - not that I have anything against a Big Mac meal, but I just know I would never be able to finish this, and therefore would never order one<br />56. Spaetzle - maybe<br />57. <strong>Dirty gin martini</strong> - does a sip count?<br />58. <strong>Beer above 8% ABV</strong><br />59. <strike>Poutine</strike><br />60. Carob chips<br />61. S'mores<br />62. <strike>Sweetbreads</strike><br />63. <strike>Kaolin</strike><br />64. Currywurst<br />65. <strong>Durian</strong><br />66. <strong>Frogs' legs</strong><br />67. <strong>Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake</strong><br />68. <strike>Haggis</strike><br />69. Fried plantain<br />70. <strike>Chitterlings, or andouillette</strike><br />71. <strong>Gazpacho</strong><br />72. Caviar and blini<br />73. <strong>Louche absinthe</strong> - don't know about "louche" though<br />74. <strike>Gjetost, or brunost</strike><br />75. <strike>Roadkill</strike><br />76. <strong>Baijiu</strong><br />77. Hostess Fruit Pie<br />78. <strong>Snail</strong><br />79. <strong>Lapsang souchong</strong><br />80. <strong>Bellini</strong><br />81. <strong>Tom yum</strong><br />82. <strong>Eggs Benedict</strong><br />83. <strong>Pocky</strong><br />84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant<br />85. <strong>Kobe beef</strong><br />86. Hare<br />87. <strong>Goulash</strong><br />88. <strong>Flowers</strong><br />89. Horse<br />90. Criollo chocolate - maybe<br />91. <strong>Spam</strong><br />92. <strong>Soft shell crab</strong><br />93. Rose harissa - maybe<br />94. <strong>Catfish</strong><br />95. Mole poblano<br />96. <strong>Bagel and lox</strong><br />97. <strong>Lobster Thermidor</strong><br />98. Polenta - maybe<br />99. <strong>Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee</strong><br />100. Snake<br /><br />As you can see, there are a lot of things I would never desire to eat - all falling into the cheese and dairy family. I was a little afraid I would end the meme with the whole list struck off - thank goodness for honest to goodness foods like Pocky.<br /><br />I don't think I deserve to be labelled an omnivore... maybe I'm a partvore.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-1630573367629357915?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6798280.post-48167660171824946262008-08-26T22:17:00.005+08:002008-08-26T22:24:17.370+08:00One generation evolution<div align="justify">A friend commented to me earlier, <em>You know, if I saw you along the street and didn't know you, I'd think you were not straight</em>.<br /><br />!!! Is she saying I look gay?!?<br /><br /><em>Ya, these days you're always looking so sharp and polished.</em><br /><br />!!!<br /><br /><em>Very corporate gay.</em><br /><br />!!!<br /><br />I suppose that explains why the cute butch at work has started to smile at me.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6798280-4816766017182494626?l=littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com'/></div>Little Miss Drinkalothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15161014305021810660littlemissdrinkalot@gmail.com9