Would someone please give me a boost to my ego? Thank you.

So what excited me the most about Hari Raya two days ago? The 50 dollars I got from my dear sweet aunts and uncles, and the release of Firefox 2 (Pssst! Get it!). Yup, that's about it.

Damn, I must be more jaded than I thought.

The crescent was up, shrouded with haze.

Appropriate, no?

The carpets are laid, the floor is swept, the rooms are painted, the sister's hair is rebonded, the clothes are bought, the bak chang (or whatever) is cooked, the kueh is laid on the table. The die is cast.

The folks will make me wear that purple baju kurung, that uncomfortable samping and a happy look on my face. I'm going to ask for their forgiveness, and they'll give it.

There'll be the usual family gathering for my Dad's side, I hear at Fizah's house? Maybe the aunts and uncles will forget Singapore Idol. Or my Dad won't tell them about my radio boo-boo. There'll be merry-making. There'll be gossiping. The twins' cheeks will be pinched till they get nice and rosy. And I'll go give Nenek a hug. When no one's watching.

Same old, same old. That can't be a bad thing, can it?

Selamat Hari Raya, everyone.

My last 2 Fridays

Chicken cream pasta.

Makeup shopping with the gal pals.

Cam-whoring.

My very first game of pool.

Starbucks Caffe Mocha.

My best day at work.

A friend out of the DJ competition.

Potato chips @ Long John Silver's.

A country club.

Bowling (and my first strike!).

More pool (and my first outright win!).

A happy reunion with an old poly mate.

And all throughout, lots of shoe-gazing and cash-spending.

Food, oh so Glorious Food. It nourishes us. Gives us life. Gives us strength. Gives us babats.

The babats. The babats! I love saying the word, but I don't want to actually lug 'em around in my ever expanding waistline.

Damn you, Singapore, with your cheap and delicious hawker fare!

And while I'm at it, just how many Starbucks are there in Orchard Road? I love their overpriced coffee and bagels just like any other faux hipster, but this is getting ridicul...ooh, iced Frappacinos with chocolate sprinkles!

I like a little camp now and then, but...

...the thought of possibly hearing David Hasselhoff on 987 from next week onwards chills me to the bones.

I am currently taking a well-deserved dose of my own medicine. And it is indescribably bad.

I love it when Dear Ole' Dad cooks. You can always expect the unexpected. For example, he once tried mixing fettucini with custard sauce and durians. It looked good, it tasted...not good. But most of the time, I wonder how often did he spend time with his mummy (Nenek, chef extraodinaire!) in the kitchen.

I didn't tell him this (didn't need another smug look from him), but the Char Kway Teow he made for buka? THE BEST! Damn, talk about your "orgasmic" pleasures.

Two more days to pay day and a trip to Vivo!

In other news, my favourite search engine just bought my favourite video site.



Forgive them their shit-eating grins. They did just get US$1.6 Billion dollars, ya know.

Something tells me Messeurs Page, Brin and Schmidt will soon be casting hungry glances at Wikipedia. Just a thought.

Misanthropy - now there's an idea.

Curse those irresponsible idiotic Indonesian tree burners! Don't they realise all their smoke is doing a number on unsuspecting lungs, sinuses and throats? More specifically, MINE?