Archive for August, 2013

Chocolate Madeleines made from the 2 eggs that were expiring on Monday

Chocolate Madeleines made from the 2 eggs that were expiring on Monday

Tall people do more filing

Tall people do more filing

the picnic list

the picnic list

Stress & OCD - It took me 2 hours to pop every single one of those little bubbles

Stress & OCD – It took me 2 hours to pop every single one of those little bubbles

"I think if a Jojo doesn't like you, then you are really screwed up as a person."

“I think if a Jojo doesn’t like you, then you are really screwed up as a person.”

Goodnight and have a great weekend 😀

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Why is it that sometimes when you catch someone pulling a fast one over you, they get all indignant about it? Like discovering that they were pulling a fast one over you is some kind of a personal failing on your part? Like it is my fault that can’t get past the gate? Like it’s my job to leave the gate ajar and even to guide you through with a smile?

Seriously, it is bad enough that you were trying to steal from me. But to try to make me feel bad about you stealing from me? That is just plain wrong.

Now I am all confused because on some level, I would like to salvage the professional relationship: it is just not healthy for us to be avoiding each other this way.

Sometimes, it’s just so not worth it, you know? Since this year started, I have been yelled at by no less than two spouses of opponents who feel slighted on behalf of their other halves. And I am not even sleeping with these people, for crying out loud!

I would like to say that I am deeply misunderstood except that all of the “misunderstood” people I know also tend to be so freaking weird that even I don’t want to talk to them, which is really saying a lot, and it is a little too complicated and existential to try to differentiate the levels of “misunderstood” on a Wednesday morning, as in what is the minimum number of levels you need to by misunderstood on to be qualified to call yourself “misunderstood”. Real life is too complicated for my puny brain this morning.

I’m just all out of sorts today. Maybe that’s because I’m feeling a bit under-appreciated this morning, or maybe it is due to the fact that this is the second day in the row I missed my alarm and woke up late, which probably means that I should sit out lunch in case I buy something expensive.

Oh look. I have a new pen from last week.

Oh look. I have a new pen from last week.

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From Haruki Murakami’s Underground:

Now, as one psychoanalyst defines it: “Human memory is nothing more than a ‘personal interpretation’ of events.” Passing an experience through the apparatus of memory can sometimes rework it into something more readily understood: the unacceptable parts are omitted; “before” and “after” are reversed; unclear elements are refined; one’s own memories are mixed with those of others, interchanged, as often as necessary. All this goes on perfectly naturally, unconsciously.

Simply put, our memories of experiences are rendered into something like a narrative form. To a greater or lesser extent, this is a natural function of memory — a process that novelists consciously utilise as a profession. The truth of “whatever is told” will differ, however slightly, from what actually happened. This, however, does not make it a lie; it is unmistakably the truth, albeit in a different form.

…As a result, the stories told by people who simultaneously experienced the very same scene often differ on small details…these discrepancies and contradictions say something in themselves. Sometimes, in this multifaceted world of ours, inconsistency can be more eloquent than consistency.

The Buddha had always said that who wins the trial depends on who is a better liar. I’ve always thought that it was a little bit unfair to put it that way.

Then I remembered how when I was a pupil, I’d heard The Bollywood Star tell his client that we only needed him to tell the truth on the stand because there is only one truth, and I thought that it was inaccurate to put it that way too.

I have also heard The Stallion tell his clients what the official version of the truth should be based on documents. I’d thought that wasn’t really how it works either.

I supposed that only one truth is that there will always be more than one perception of truth. Unfortunately, in most of my trials, there are usually up to five perceptions of the truth in the courtroom: the plaintiff, the defendant, their respective counsels and the judge; the most immaterial being their respective counsels’ views and the most material being the judge’s.

So I guess it was a really good thing that we didn’t even bother to go on today. We argued preliminary issues and dismissed the claim, then went off to lunch and got on with life. That is way clearer than trying to figure out which of the five perceptions of the truth should triumph.

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The Suspicious Chinese Cat

The Suspicious Chinese Cat

I met someone I hadn’t spoken to in about 7 years in court the other day. There were myriad and varied reasons leading up to our not-speaking which I, with my elephantine memory, have not forgotten over the years. Not that they were very important reasons, but I distinctly remembered having sat down and taken stock of the situation back then and deciding that the not-speaking did not add anything or subtract anything from my life.

Said person greeted me and chatted with me like a long lost friend, asking about work, about the firm, describing to the junior he had with him how we worked in the same office in the past and how we are friends. All the while, I peered out suspiciously from behind a wall, taken aback by the outward show of friendliness. Then at the first opportunity, I retreated back to my seat far away behind the bar tables.

Seriously, what was that all about?! I don’t think I can ever get how people can just forget the unpleasant stuff they did to you in the past. Or pretend it was never there. Makes me wonder whether (a) they had no idea at all how much it rankled in the past or (b) they are just really good at pretending.

If (a), that just makes them socially unaware / incompetent right? So I really shouldn’t have wasted any time and effort on the dipshit in the past. Dammit!

If (b), why the hell are you nice to me now? What are you trying to sell me?

And this, ladies and gentlemen, this deep suspicion of everything, is the root of my problem in life. I have always said that my greatest failing in life is the fact that I have a far more developed bullshit filter than the rest of humanity. Hence I don’t do orientations or team building or any of that kind of ra-ra shit they make you do in school and at work. I am incapable of connecting with people I don’t like or am suspicious of. And I am suspicious of almost everyone. As a result, I’ve spent most of my life being socially inept, shifty and weird and having very little friends.

No matter how good I have since become at making small talk and behaving appropriately in social settings, somewhere deep down inside, I’ll always be that suspicious cat peering out after darting round the corner. Save that with time and age, I am now able to avoid the physically darting round the corner bit and the looking visibly suspicious bit.

So just for the record, my instincts are still pretty good. Just because I look like I am listening to you does not mean that any of your bullshit is getting past the filter.

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Mela: If I am giving all these pep talks to people, have you ever wondered who is giving me a pep talk?

The Buddha: Prozac.


I have bought a dress and 6 macaroons (to stop myself from buying a new fountain pen) over the course of this week (which has only been what, two days?). I am (still) on the verge of buying a new fountain pen (which will result in me owning no less than FOUR pens wtf).

I think I should just stop going to lunch.

But it continues…

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IMG_20130804_173811[1]It was my sister-in-law’s birthday over last weekend. She checked into a hotel at Resorts World Sentosa and we brought the kids over to hang out on both Saturday and Sunday. We had earlier asked her what she wanted for her birthday cake and she replied that she wanted something non-chocolate.

On Saturday, we all went to Universal Studios and found out, much to the delight of Peanut, that over the year, she had grown tall enough to make it for the Transformers ride. She was so pleased that she rode on it twice and while we were walking through the gift shop after, she insisted that we bought a robot for Lion, who could not go on the ride and spent all that time pottering about outside with my mother-in-law staring at all of the installations. He’s currently in a robot phase and has developed an insane obsession with Iron Man.

We left Peanut to stay over with my mother-in-law and sister-in-law and brought Lion home to bed. After putting Lion to bed, I started on the chiffon cake.

For the record, I have never actually made a chiffon cake in my life. This is the first try, and after putting it into the oven and finishing the washing up, I realised to my complete shock that I forgot to add cold water to the heavy batter. I then spent the rest of the night wondering first whether it will rise, then after I took it out of the oven, wondering whether it will deflate overnight.

Quite luckily it didn’t so the next morning, I made and applied the icing and The Other Half grilled some peaches and we were ready to go! It was lovely and everyone enjoyed it very much. I will probably make it again (with ALL of its ingredients).


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the look of triumph


Dad: Would you like to employ your superior intellect to transform the insanely complicated Optimus Prime?

Mum: Erm no? I didn’t buy the toy.


Mum: This is really taking quite long. I’m going to take a picture and post it on Facebook.

Dad: I got it! I got it! Hahahahaha!!


Lion: Daddy, why does it look like a garbage truck?!

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