Why won’t you let me love you?

I actually once said this to my friend’s dog.

And I’m not even an animal lover!

Phwoar, seems like my stock is up this week. A second guy told me he thought I was cute and asked me out, after selling him an epilator off my Carousell page.

Why wasn’t I as fucking popular when I was a teen as I am this week? Not that I would have taken up on every suitor — god, I can only imagine to have that stamina and prowess; I’d probably still be far too lazy to be honest —  but I pretty much look the same as I did in my late teens and early twenties. (I hit puberty at age 10, so that “late bloomer” rubbish doesn’t really count, does it?) Why, did someone move the yardsticks for desirability and beauty to the dirty-two-day-never-washed-hair-and-I-only-brushed-my-teeth-and-not-even-washed-my-face-or-combed-my-hair fringe area for this week?

Maybe I was simply ahead of trends — you know, natural beauty, unkempt beauty, that sort of shit — and now is my time, yo.

I am flattered, and it’s definitely gave the ego a great old boost. But honestly this doesn’t help me figure out and solve things on the romantic front. Funny how things work out.

Lyrical analysis and interpretation of “Baobabs” by Regina Spektor

“Baobabs” is a song included as a bonus track in the deluxe version of Regina Spektor’s fourth studio album, Begin to Hope (2006). It’s based off the famous novella The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, first published in 1943.

Lyrically it’s a first-person narrative with Regina adopting the persona of the Rose, who appears in the second act (shit, I forgot what you call the equivalent for prose). But the song also alludes to other characters, namely the cryptic but wise Fox.

When the Little Prince first meets the Fox, interestingly the Fox doesn’t ask the child alien to just befriend him; the beast actually begs him to “Please — tame me!” Continue reading

If there were any doubts after the funeral about the resilience of the middle-aged women in my family:

“Better call Ah Chun later. She had her medical earlier this week, I think.”

“Tomorrow dinner cook what?”

And my favourite, courtesy of my aunty: “So sickening. Don’t talk rubbish. [smacks my shoulder]”

Meanwhile, Mamah tells us Singaporean grandchildren: “When go out, must sling your bag across your body. Don’t let it just dangle on your shoulder like that, otherwise people on motorbikes try to snatch it away and you fall down and crack your head on the kerb and die, you know that or not? Malaysia not like Singapore one, you know or not?”

SE Asia is sooo dangerous, so lawless one. How ever did I even survive infanthood.

 

Richard Ayoade is now my celebrity crush. OK, one of my celebrity crushes.

Especially after finding out he directed one of my favourite music videos.

Dear God, please don’t let him turn out to be problematic like Michael Fassbender. I don’t think my little feminist heart can take another disappointment…

Which is which?

Shit, I had one of those dreams again. Is it that time of the month? Or is it that time of the year again when I reminisce and wonder about what-ifs?

Me likey Bruno

I feel like Bruno’s the guy you said you’d never have sex with because he’s so corny, but you do.

Several times.

Well, at least my mum would approve of him. She liked it when he dedicated his Grammy Award to his mother, instead of his girlfriend:

“Why the girl make her face until like that? Mother always come first what. This shows he’s a good boy, that he loves his mother, has a kind heart…”