Review on Fancl liquid foundation

From Liquid foundation to Mineral foundation, now I'm back knocking on the doors of liquid foundation. But having tried the preservative-free, light weight cosmetic promised by most popular mineral makeups, I doubt I'll ever want to be subjected to harmful substance that most cosmetic giants put into their makeup, ever again.

Of all the major beauty brands in the world, the Japanese are said to make the best cosmetics. And when we talk about preservative-free cosmetics, naturally one of the pioneers in preservative-free skincare, FANCL, comes to mind. Well at least it came to mine because there is one outlet just within walking distance from my house when I was on the hunt for the perfect foundation with no irritants.

Being a newb to the range, I was naturally cautious and skeptical, and decided to try on only the liquid foundation, at S$35 for a 3 months supply.
One week later and I was completely won over.

Application and Coverage
Unlike most liquid f, the FANCL liquid foundation has a thin-watery consistency with sheer to medium coverage = No sticky feeling on skin. Foundation evens out smoothly with pearlescent finish, which is good because it distracts the eye away from any noticeable imperfection, without making you look like a disco ball. In short, it means a slightly dewy flawless skin without having to wear a cake-like mask.

Oil Control
Regulates sebum production pretty well, without over drying your skin. If you fancy a more refreshing (or wetter feel), you can dry the Milky liquid foundation. Not me. I like it weightless.

Oxidization (*****5 brownie points)
This is the only foundation I've tried so far that doesn't oxidize on my skin.
Cosmetic oxidization happened to be one of my greatest beauty woes. Usually before the day ends, any shade of foundation on my face will turn at least 3 shades darker than my actual skin tone, and that's when I will be the butt of all Pinoy jokes.

Shelf life VS Price
Unlike my L'oreal foundation whic lasted through my entire Uni days (and mind you, I apply makeup almost every school day), this compact bottle sits well for only 3 months.
It works out to be about S$11.70 per month, and less than S$0.50 per day (given that there are 25 working days in a month). Not too great an investment, for a daily airbrushed look.

My only gripe is that....
they have very limited shades. The one that I am using Natural light (02), is just about a shade too light. The next shade in the range, Orche Light (03) is too yellow and the next next, Natural Medium (04) is too dark.

Verdict: My Holy Grail foundation for the mo.
For a rare gem that doesn't cause the sebum on my skin to oxidize before the day is over, I can live with its lack of a perfect colour match in the range.

Slaves that charge by the hour

The world is getting weirder with sites that rents out sex slaves.

I chanced upon it while doing my habitual trawling of the world wide web, and it took my breath away, mostly because my boss was in the same room.

Buyers can select slaves based on a few criterias:
-Degree of submissiveness
-tolerance of pain
-And some shit that I cannot remember but is too chickened to "reload" the page to view it again

The slaves even have resumes or profile, presumably documenting their bevy of experience.
They might even have customer testimonials, but I'm too ball-less to explore further.

On the note of slaves, I overheard the grouch of a counterpart who just got off an extremely gruelling conference session with her client.

She said, "PR is a very bad profession for females. We tell clients that we charge fees by the hour and service them to their level of satisfaction."

Such is in a day's work.

Shoe Whore

Bette Midler once said something along the lines of "Give a girl the right pair of shoes, and she can conquer the world."

That remark struck a chord and made me notice her, and I would have agreed with her wholeheartdly, except that I believe in a more refined version of that statment, "Give a girl a pair of high heels, and she can conquer the world." Such legendary powers of heels are not conceived of mere urban legends.

A pair of nice heels instantly glams up any blah outfit and make average legs appear better, longer. They make a woman look taller, change their appearance, change their posture and change their mood.

I don't know of that many things with such extraordinary powers. That is why I can never have enough of heels. Women who wields a pair of heels on her feet wield a powerful weapon. Many have tried to convince me otherwise, but knowing that they are the basis of my self-confidence, and so usually I just shake my head politely and strut away.

But by heels, I am not refering to those with sad 2" stubs sold at Charles & Keith. I am talking about the real well-crafted hardcore feet-stuff that are at least 3.5" in height -Pumps, Mary Janes, Espadrilles, toe-cleavage baring peep-toes, booties, whetever they are, the qualifying factor comes from the structure of the heel.

Victoria Beckham knows, just look at her extensive collection of splendidly built stillettos: Manolos, Marc Jacobs and Balenciaga. They took David Beckham, and the rest of the world's breath away. Tell me if I am wrong...

Having said that, yours truly has yet to reach the kind of social status when she can buy a pair of Louboutins to sashay around town in them and not feel a pinch when its 4" spike gets caught in between floor/drain gaps. Neither does she have a walk in shoe cabinet of cheap looking plastic patent heels smuggled in from China.

Instead she monitors Amazon impatiently for their yearly back-friday sale (which happens like now) and treats herself to an annual 5 pair of heavily discounted mid-range heels with spikes that look just a little less enslaving.

As a friend aptly puts, "Your feet are made for wicked stilettos....those that make me worship the ground you walk on....."

Guess, Nine West, Colin Stuart and Charles David here I come!!!

LOL.

Chandrasamy modelling agency

It was a friday 9:40am and I was dressed down for work in a turquoise min-dress and quirky shell necklace, but my 4 inch white nine west heels were clicking impatiently on the newly cemented pavement as I walked towards the bus stop near my place. Despite having spikes as footwear, I could easily win a marathon stutting at lightning speed. was in a mad rush. Because after all, I was late for work. Very very late. Like almost an hour late.

As I reach a bend, I almost crashed into this dark skinned dude who look like he just crawled out of bed and is on a hunt for some breakfast at the nearby food stalls. Mid-20's looking, nothing spectacular, nothing memorable, except for a patch of pimply growth on his forehead, and I quickly forgot about him after 3 seconds, because the only thing on my mind at the moment was how can I teleport myself to office.

Anyway, a hundred metres ahead and someone slightly panting from behind me called out: "Hello, excuse me?"
I spunned around and it was that Indian dude.

Me (with a smile) : "Yes?" (I looked around half expecting that I dropped something)
Him: "Urmm, hello, I own a modelling agency, and I think you are gorgeous. Would you like to join?"

I surveyed that dude quizzically for about 2 seconds, before deciding that it was probably a scam (like a certain someone who has an online model portal and who tells wannabes that they can be famous for just S$50 of administrative fees) after deciding he didn't fit the profile of someone who can survive in the fashion and beauty industry.

Despite my impatience, I decide to not be a biatch and politely refused. But he didn't give up.

Him: "Well? Perhaps you could give me your number?"
Me: "Just out of curiousity, which modelling agency is that?" After a measured pause, "I know quite a few model bookers in town, so which one do you manage?"

After a string of hemming and hawing, he murmured something that sounded like Chandrasamy Models.

I was speechless from not knowing to laugh or cry, and wanted to tell him that even if his agency existed, I highly doubt his clientele base would be interested in my yellow skin.
I wouldn't look convincing in the pictorials for a sari boutique nor a prata TV commercial. The satire would be lost on me in a similar Camlin market pen commercial Http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKthceSGlyM
My yellow face will stick out like a sore thumb on billboards in Mustafa.
And where on earth is that supposed agency based? Mumbai or Chennai?

In the end, I just gave him a long meaningful stare, shook my head and walked away because I was really horribly late.

The drama on BBC with most happening character

Just some lame shit...
For those who are familiar with the legend of Merlin and King Arthur,
Who is the most happening character in Merlin?

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Give up?
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Answer:
Sir Lancelot;
Because he link and lance-a-lot (drink and dance-a-lot)

Hurhurhur. Pardon the inaccurate grammar, it's Singlish afterall.

Until recently, I have never been very fond of BBC Saturday evening family dramas, particularly because British humour (the irony of it) and lengthy make believes have never quite appealed to me. However I am now a great fan of Merlin on BBC One, a new 13 part drama series, set in the mythical city of Camelot. The drama is based on the trials and tribulation of young Merlin serving in King Uther/Arthur's court before his beard went into overgrowth, and his magical powers unsurpassed.

Deepavali

Amidst all the depressing episodes in my life, Deepavali was celebrated by feasting microwave-oven heated pratas and chicken curry in a can.

How legitimate are smoke breaks?

The smokers in my office make their daily pilgrimage, climbing 3 storeys down to the designated smoking area for a puff or two. They do that repetitively over the course of the day, while the non-smoking yours truly has her fat ass stuck onto the chair and eyes glued onto the too-glaring computer, frantically typing away to meet one of ther many deadlines.

And that got me wondering; I wondered, not because I was sore about the fact that my smoking colleagues gets about an hour of extra break everyday due to their nicotine addiction, but because I am woman and can multi-task between writing a press release, doing research and conjuring up fancy scenarios like this.

Although I have nothing against the act of smoking, and in fact have a sick obsession with inhaling the intoxicating second-hand fumes from Virginia Slims, I know for a fact that it is socially regarded as a bad habit.

Even though the frequent MC-takers are usually the non-smokers, it is scientifically proven that smokers are less likely to remain healthy for the company in the long run. Besides, to whom should we bill the additional 1 hour that is burnt off each day on chugging over-priced rolled up tobacco sticks?

Therefore theoretically, isn't it unprofitable for a company to encourage such habits, considering that smokers, too, take tea/food/shit/chitchat breaks like the rest of us.

And if smoke breaks are acceptable, why aren't fuck breaks acceptable?
Supposing smokers take a smoke break of 10 minutes every 2 hourly, that will add up to 40 minutes of extra break-time for every 8-hour working day. For a quickie, 20 minutes would suffice, and supposing I only take 2 fuck breaks a day, I wouldn't be taking any more time off than the smokers in my company.

Fucking, carried out safely, is a healthy activity. it releases endorphines which increases work productivity, with no known negative side effects. Even insurance agents don't increase your premium for indulging in sexual activities more than twice a day, unlike that of smokers.

But I don't foresee bosses to be thrilled if such a scenario were to arise:

"Boss, I am feeling horny now, can I cross over to the next building for a quickie?"

Or when moving offices,"Boss, where's the nearest quickie area?" as opposed to, "Boss, where is the nearest smoking area?"

In fact, I think by asking the former, I'd be more likely to get the sack sooner.

But my point is, both are fringe activites that eat off time from work. Both are time-consuming activities that will take time off one's usual working schedule. But if one is a lesser evil than the other, why isn't it accepted?

That said, I am not about to start indulging in fuck breaks anytime soon, nor am I secretly jealous of my smoking counterparts for having "more" break-time than me. As stated right at the beginning of this entry, this is purely stemmed out of my own nonsensical musings following a very interesting discussion with a friend.

And also because I am a multi-task-abled woman.

Latest PR trivialities from the rumour mill

News coming from a better-informed source on industry happenings than Marketing Magazine is always welcomed, especially when it is a piece of negative news regarding a certain brightly coloured Public Relations agency which I absolutely detest.

For the purpose of this entry, lets call my source "Live radar"

Live radar has it that the PR agency's cocky-windbag of a PR Manager pissed off a major client and told her to "Fuck off" upon her scrutiny of his lacklustre work, mostly because he was unable to deliver what was expected of him.

In addition to that, the EXTREMELY high turnover rate of that particular company for the past 1 year has been under constant scrutiny and a hot gossip topic among industry people, including the recent resignation of a respectable and experienced senior within the company.

I could go on and on about how that aforementioned Manager looks like the kind of fish stewed in curry fish head because of his huge prominent fish lips and fish-like jaws; or how I mistook a HUGE sack of potatoes lying on the floor at a grocery store, for one of their top executives and yelped in horror. (The key word is HUGE, hence it is hihglighted in bold)

Disclaimer: The above narrative is completely fictitious (if you believe me) :D:D

Play in the LUXE mansion

Fancy being served with strawberries-in-champagne by sexy male butlers (read:topless and buff)?

Wanna be among the first in the whole of Asia Pacific to preview?

Then RSVP to my gmail by 10th October 2008 (FRIDAY) with your contact details and I will reply you.

My office contact details are being cropped away to prevent some jokers from dropping bombs.

To DIDA: Too bad, I would have asked you, but now I can only ask Lisa. lol~

Put your old bras to good use

Do you have bras that you refuse to wear because they look like they are for women above the ago of 70? Or perhaps they just don't fit any more? Donate them to The Salvation Army through any Chalone outlet this October. Donated bras can be of any colour and brands but should be in clean, good and wearable condition.

On top of that, get a rebate value of up tot $40 if you purchase a Chalone bra at the same time.

October is the Breast Cancer Awareness month, and in support of the activities organized by the Breast Cancer Foundation. Breast cancer is the commonest cancer in Singapore women and about 1000 women are diagnosed with the cancer annually. Wear the pink ribbon in support of the activities organized by the breast cancer association.

Manipulation Centre

Came across this while wandering around Chinatown Pearl Centre...

I shudder to think what kind of "manipulation" goes on in there...

It's great being a woman

I came across this while surfing, and I had to share...

HAPPIEST FAIRY TALE EVER!

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl “Will you marry me?” The girl said “NO!” And the girl lived happily ever after and went shopping, dancing, camping, drank whole bottles of wine, always had a clean house, never had to cook, did whatever the hell she wanted, never argued, didn’t get fat, traveled more, saved money, and had all the bed and bed-sheets to herself. She went to the theatre, never watched sports, never wore fricken lacy lingerie that went up her arse, had high self esteem, never cried or yelled, and felt and looked fabulous all the time.

- THE END -





It's funny, but I shared, mostly because it seemed like a good prologue for showing-off the half-page advertisement on the Straits Times, starring me.



Like the title suggests. It's great to be a woman.

Becoming a maid

"Auctioning myself off as a maid for S$3000++ a month. Cleanliness not guaranteed. No extra services."

For some strange reason, I have a knack for steering conversation topics towards that pertaining my friends' domestic helpers...that got me thinking about the potentials of a career swtich. To maid-ing. (My boss will start to sniff at me suspiciously if he reads this)

"I overpay my maid so that she will stay. She comes once a week and has been cleaning for my family for the past 10 years."

"I think my maid earns more than you in a month"

"My maid works for half a day and I think she's paid about $3K plus from all the homes that she works for"

"I introduced my maid to all my friends and now she earns a tidy income cleaning house for all of them"

The best part of being an ad-hoc maid is that you don't pay taxes. No income tax, no GST and all the smlj taxes that the gahment throw at you.

Forget about being a public relations executive, forget about a career in teaching, even modelling isn't as lucrative as there are good months and bad months as trends fade in and out. Cleaning on the other hand, never goes out of fashion and is always in demand, consistently.

"But my cleaner works long hours/ My cleaner works very hard."
Well mister, so do I.

"The detergent and soap is bad for your hands and skin"
Well, my hands aren't very nice in the first place. I've already conceded that men with a thing for hand will not give a hoot about me, so why bother. Plus there's a thing call 'glove', that people wear when they perform domestic chores.

"It's hard labour"
It pays me to train my fat ass into a cute(r) ass, which in turn has a 50% chance of distracting my employer from the fact that I am actually terrible at cleaning.

Any takers?



Disclaimer: It's one of those crazy ideas that is conjured out of a hard day at work.

A beautiful thought

Although I've pretty much decided on my career path for the next 5 years, my passion for teaching and the holier-than-thou aspiration of inspiring kids hasn't been extinguished. Either that or I'm just masochistic to want to subject myself to such horrors.

So gathering a troop of 2 friends (1 confirmed, 1 still pending at the time this entry was posted), we've decided to seek out all voluntary and community service homes to volunteer our expertise on a part-time weekend only basis. An excursion to Fort Siloso every now and then, English and phoenetics classes, drawing lessons and Christmas parties, all sound like meaningful ways to spend weekends.

**Any organizations with vacancies for 2-3 female volunteers please let me know.

Hairstyle changes

I chopped a good 5 inches off my waist grazing curls, and straightened it a little, and I don't feel so sexy anymore.

On the topic of hair, ever wondered how you'd look in the year book if you had lived in the 50's? Check THIS to find out.

In the 1950s



In 1960s





In 1970s.



Hair-spray bangs in 1980s


I look so HAWT that the only way I'd ever attract a man is if I put a paper bag over my head.

Perhaps I should try hitting the clubs in one of these get ups.
Or even better, I should turn up for a photoshoot looking like this. I'm sure if Singapore didn't have gun laws, I'd be shot.

The demise of Miss Singapore Universe

All these years, pageant girls representing Singapore for Miss Singapore Universe have been getting the blame for being unable to make Singapore smell a whiff of the Miss Universe prize.

But having dealt with its incumbant organiser just ONCE, it becomes pretty clear with whom the fault lies with.

I mean there must be a reason why no sponsors are willing to pool in their valuable advertsing dollars to be associated with the event. And I can safely tell you, it's not the lack of well-calibred girls we have on this island. Singapore is not lacking in beauties, unless your perception of beauty is restricted to those deathly pale Taiwanese/J-pop lookalikes who carries straw umbrellas everywhere they go.

The fact that we are a modern, cosmopolitan city, pretty much ensures that our girls here are (for the most part), well-groomed, well-travelled and knowledgeable. The fact that our country is wealthy, pretty much ensures that plastic surgery is commonplace, except that we don't embrace it as much as the Koreans. We may not have the most well-endowed girls in the chest department, but we make up for it with wit, grace, willowy-proportions and I dare say (surprise, surprise) we have quite pretty faces.

So why is it that the pageant do not attract as much well-qualified participattion as it intended to? Why is it that the sponsors are not convinced to park their dollars with the organizers? Why are the media all giving bad reviews towards the pageant? It can't be the girls, because the contestants change pretty much every year. You don't see Jade Seah and Eunice Olsen getting the prize year after year, only to be boo-ed down the stage and going back into the same competition the next year only to be boo-ed again.

By that equation, the contestants are variables, and so are the sponsors. There is only ONE FIXED CONSTANT year after year, and I believe that my point is pretty evident by now.

Why do I say so?
1) They are extremely unprofessional. So innumerous that it's gonna disrupt the flow of my thoughts if i were to list them all out.
2) They are extremely thick in the head. You would think that after the father stepped down from being the King of teekorpeks, the son that took over would be more energetic in reinstating reforms. But no, sad to say, our senior minister was right in his beliefs in Eugenics.
3) They are extremely lazy, so lazy that they cannot even check their email regularly, and have no corporate etiquette, which then links back to the point that they are not professional.
4) They are very bad liars. It's bad enough that you aren't accoutable for the things that you've done (or rather have not done), it's worse when you tell a lie for it, and cannot even account for the lie.

For all the above stated reasons, I'm surprise that they've never evaluated themselves as the cause of a dip in popularity.

Having said that, I must say that I am terribly displease with our Royal Highness 2008 as well. I was going to refrain from commenting about her on my blog initially, because even after she made "horse rearing look like our national sports and stomping our national dance" in Vietnam, because the interview session went ahead as planned despite a few glitches in the day. But her inability to follow, and the ineffectiveness in getting things doen really had me seething with fire. I thought I was the worse time keeper around, being perpetually late for 15-30 min. But being 6 hours late is a whole new world altogether, only to preach to me about her "rights" as MSU after I've sent in my statements to the media. Nabeh!

Back to the topic of her organizer. Sadly, he didn't back her up at all. Instead he pushed all the blame onto her, citing her lack of ability to follow clear instructions as the cause of all this chaos and misunderstanding. Despite the fact that she obviously had a part in me being very angry now, I believe that she should only bear 10% of the fault.

Lack of support for the queen from the country? Hell yea, especially when her court jester is the one who is slinging mud all over the gown behind her back.

Engineers and Nostalgia belong to different parellels

I was privileged enough to be part of the entourage that was invited to the Mint Museum of Toys, on the eve of my birthday, coutesy of my client. After a sumptuous dinner spread and plied with a lot of wine, we were given a private tour of the Museum.

Housed in a 5-story building along Seah Street, just opposite Raffles Hotel, the museum holds about 5000 pieces of the private collection by avid toy collector, Chang Yang Fa. Some of these antiques can be traced back to toy makers dating back to more than a century, from more than 25 countries, yet most of which are still in mint condition. Some of the iconic playthings include 1903 Steiff bear, a Batman dispatched in Superman packaging by mistake, a 1930s plush Mickey with creator Walt Disney's signature on its sole, and Golliwogs that were banned because of its perceived racial insensitiveness.




Allow me to digress from my story just so that I can make an insignificant, neutral-toned interjection that my client came from the IT industry, and to simplify my point, the party is pre-dominantly attended by engineers. Computer engineers, software-something-engineers, just engineers in general.

At first the tour didn't generate a lot of intereast amongst the group who made polite nods and lame attempt at small talk during it. Not because the displays were anything less than impressive, but let's just say that toy collection is a very niche past time, and even then, the most avid of toy collectors usually specialize in a particular line of toys, that they can relate to. I would know. So the bunch of engineers were basically just standing around clutching the stem of their tall wine glasses and making feeble attempts to crack some jokes.

Simply put, nostalgia and the historical significance of all these pop-culture relics on display were lost on the herd of C++ professionals present. It was not until the Operations manager started rolling out the value (very very high) of individual items of all these pieces, that engineers around me jolted to attention.

Operations Manager: "This Robot that you see in the display, it's now worth USD$30,000"

Engineer: "Where, where, where? I want to see the $13,000 robot." (Takes a picture for keepsake)I take picture to tell my son so that he can keep his robot.

Operations Manager: "This piece that I'm currently showing is the only one that you'll ever see in public display. The only other 2 in the world remains in private collection."

Engineer: "Is this expensive too? I want to see all the expensive pieces. Bring us to see the most expensive one."

Engineer in symphony:
-"How come this kind of things also can be so expensive ah?"
-"If I had known, I'd ask my mother to keep all my toys."
-"How much is the most expensive toy here? Bring us to see the most expensive one"

Dear engineers, can I just roll my eyes at you?

(i) Out of the 1000 toys that you have, you will probably only have 1 that is worth that much. And only a truly passionate toy lover would be discerning enough to spot it. Those drool-filled puzzles and plastic pirated spiderman figures that you bargain off the Pasar Malam at Chinatown, they might even be tossed out after being excavated by archaelogists 10,000 years later. It will only probably be worth something if human being morph into creatures with tentacles and are born with inverted fishbowls over our heads.

(ii) Toys and comics might just just junk to you, it is in many conscious or subconscious way, a reflection of the pop-culture and mass sentiments during the period. Did you know the implications of having a superman character during World War II? Did you know why the procelain monkey figurines from Hong Kong were patterned with flower prints that is faintly remniscent of the British country side? Did you know the social implications of a Golliwog?
Contrary to what you think, the showcasing of toys from the "good old days" doens't mean that "the rich culture of the past is dead". Culture never dies. It moves on, it changes form, and the shift from wooden, tin and cloth toys to the mass manufacture of plastic toys is a clear indication of that. There is nothing sad about toys made of plastic. They are durable and they can be made to look very good.

Perhaps its the snob in me that is looking down on their ignorance, but I think it's a shame for such colossal effort at sharing history to be undermined by people who measure everything in monetary terms.

Let me put it in a very crude way: it doens't matter how much money it fetches, because it will never be yours.

*PS: The owner of this toy collection happens to be an engineer too. :P So logically speaking I should put the adjective *MOST* in my title, but I think the title sound more catchy without.

The Ah Lian got busted

I just found out that I've been profiled as an Ah Lian blogger.

So much for hiding in the closet for so damn long.

Guess what they call you, readers of my blog?

Answer : Lian-lovers

I need a sugar daddy

Having to work your way through University to feed yourself, pay for your bills, pay for your brother's insurance, stay in hall, buy textbooks is depressing enough...But it gets worse when you receive a letter from CPF board after you've graduated for a year, asking you to pay back the damn sum of $18,816.76 that you owe them.

That is a gi-normous amount to think about. Hell, I've barely started working and the whole world is asking for money from me.

After the damn CPF freezes about a quarter of my pay-cheque to "assets" that I cannot touch until I'm too old to tell $5 from $50, I am still faced with financial concerns like...

My grandparents ask me how much am I paid every week I go to their place...

My parents are like an alarm clock that rings timely every that time of the month when people generally get their pay cheques...

My brother's insurance still automatically deducts a fat sum from my account at that time of the month, and it has been doing that even before I graduated.

On top of all those major bloody suckers, I still have my bills, medical, transport, food and whatnots...

And now CPF wants me to return $250 in installments, every fucking month for the next 12 years, to my dad's gahment controlled CPF account.

What is really depressing is I just found out that my parents had kept this piece of information from me all this while. They knew all along that I was expected to pay the sum back. All these while, they have conveniently leveraged on the "I slogged so hard to pay for your very expensive school fees so you'd better be grateful", or that "You start earning money and you keep forgetting to give us an allowance, don't forget who saw you through University."

Granted that I was aware of my family's un-rosy financial situation all these years, and I was expected to make a contribution to my family the moment I graudaute, tricking me into contributing to the family's gross income was wrong and so was leveraging on that idea to control my freedom and privacy all these while.

I blame it on Tradition. I know that if I were to call my parents lying scumbugs, I can be assured that I'd make my way into the top 10 most hated bloggers in the entire blogosphere. So I blame it on the deeply entrenched Asian-Singaporean Tradition, dictating that children have to contribute to their family's financial well-being the moment that they step out of school.

It doesn't matter what your own financial capability is. If you've gotta have to eat instant noodles (even cup noodles is too expensive) and drink plain water every day, then you've gotta do it. The bottom line is, you have to make your offerings at the end of every month, and your parents have every right to use whatever methods to pry that wad of hard earn money away from you. So tradition it is.

As for those who complain to me that you are constantly in their parents' debt because they need to have starbucks for breakfast, Crystal Jade for lunch and Lawry's for dinner, you really don't know the true meaning of being in a debt.

With reference to my title, no, I won't be picking up any of you losers from Butter, (or St James for that matter) even if you somehow managed to guess my chinese name correctly.

On my way to become a major PR bitch

Updates:

I've been so engrossed in checking out people's blog and scooping out master bloggers to complete my evil plan to dominate the Earth that I completely neglected my own blog.

Indulging she-who-makes-those-little-kaopei-noises......

*discreetly flicks ear wax at her*



After this post, I feel as dumb and as bimbotic as a certain Hanny Heng blogger

Contributing to the economy

It feels like Christmas when Pay Day coincides with a Weekend.

Now it's time for me to do my part as a good Singaporean by contributing to the economy, One.Dress.At.A.Time.

(P/S: Christmas in Singapore is just about shopping excessively)

I fucking need a break.

Just to let you know, I am a woman with a sound intellect, perfectly capable of logic and reasoning, contrary to what you may think.

Yet, I am a woman. What may appear to you as something without a rhyme or reason might be something that I perceive with clarity. We just do not have the same trail of thought.

*********************************************

And to some other person, be very afraid. I know you read my blog, and I know you know who you are. While you thought that my non-action was a sure sign of cowardice, but please be assured that I will not hestitate to do vicious things to you without you even realizing it, until its too late. I have more details of you than your puny bureaucratic brain can ever imagine.

Consider my nonchalence on this matter up till this point magnanimous.

Exit

What kind of relationship is pivoted on the idea of "Potential"? What does it mean when someone says that "I think you have potential"?

Potential to...what? What the hell does "potential" mean?

The potential to produce to beautiful offsprings? Potential to make make him happy for the rest of his life? Potential to create many lovely memories with him? Potential to make him rich? Or perhaps he meant the potential to bring him from one point to another point (ie to bring him towards his goal)?

And so, is "Potential" a good enough qualifier of Love?

If that were so, then I must say that love is an overated emotion. Before the scientifically declared 2-year mark in a relationship, love was just a crazy, hormone-induced emotion; after that scientifically declared 2-year mark, love becomes a conscious and conscientious decision, that could get tedious and tiring sometimes. So by that route of deduction, a person with potential is someone whom you want to continually reassert your decision on.

Then what if none of the aforementioned "potentials" ever ripen? Wouldn't all the goals that were supposed to be built upon making that decision never be realized?

Crawling along the jammed tunnels of CTE, I was made very aware of the Exits that lined the walls of the tunnel, because all I could think of were the possibilities of an escape. Would I throw caution to the wind and run towards that Exit?



It reminded me of a scene in Prison Break II, when Lincoln and Michael were re-captured. Their vehicle was stopped right beside an Exit door, and the key to their handcuffs were "coincidentally" left behind by an "absent-minded" prison guard who went to settle the road block situation. If they could pull off the escape, they could be free, but freedom had danger and uncertainty written all over it. There could be assassins engaged by the Company stationed behind closed doors awaiting for the chance to strike, the police could shoot at them and 'accidentally' kill them if they were running, the possibilities were endless. At the same time, if they'd stayed and passed up the one opportunity to escape, it was obvious that they'd remain miserable forever in jail.

But their decision and ultimatum was clear right from the beginning, whereas mine wasn't.

Review on Everyday Minerals

After about 3 months of experimenting with Everyday Minerals (EM), I thought that it's about time that I wrote a review on it. In particular, their Mineral Foundations that are so highly raved.



The reason why I took so long to do this review, was because I had mixed feelings for EM's foundation and face powder.


Me (person on the right) using:
-EM's Foundation Beige-Fairly-Light, in Semi-Matte formula.
-EM's Blush, Pink Ribbon (very glowy light pink. more to light up your face, than for contouring)

The story:
After I started working, I found that L'oreal Liquid foundation proved to be too much of a hassle to apply in the morning. and switched to a powder foundation - something with a higher coverage and oil control properties. The switch proved to be lethal as my previously flawless skin started breaking out in painful, pus-covered welts and pimples (M.A.C studio fix I'm glaring at you again!). In a bid to find some cosmetics to restore the glorious past of my skin, I turned to Mineral Makeup with recommendations from Jessica. After trying out a couple of brands, I've decided that I like the EM's staying power, coverage, texture and colour-match the best, amongst the few Mineral Makeup brands that I've tried.

The EM foundation formulaes that I've tried, in order of my preference are Matte, Semi-Matte and Intensive

Matte My favourite formula. Clean, and silky & smooth finishing with minimal shine, so it looks like a more refined version of your natural skin, with minimal (but visible) glow.
I actually thought that this was one formula that I'd never try, because it sounded boring, dry and best for vampirish ah lians whose skin will crumble into ash and soot the moment daylight hits it. But this formula, IMO is perfect for Singapore's hot, humid weather where almost everyone has combi-oily skin. Just dust a light layer of Lavender Concealer as primer prior to the foundation, and voila, and you are on your way to look like you're born with naturally beautiful skin.

Semi-Matte A close runner up to the Matte formula on my fav list. This is the stuff that you'd want to go for, if you are into that dewy-skin-bursting-with-moisture-and-supple-ness kind of look. As the name suggests, it gives more glow to your skin than the matte formula. It was the perfect formula to use in drier climates, like when I was travelling in Japan.
However, this formula provided the least coverage and is the least lasting, amongst the 3. Personally, I find that my face gets a bit too shiny after a while in Singapore's climate. AGAIN, it's the fault of the tropics.

Intensive My least favourite formula. Oxidizes the most on my skin, to the point that everyone asked me if I had a tan at Communicasia this year, despite being on whitening pills. Though it was supposed to provide a more thorough coverage as compared to the others, it gets streaky the moment I sweat or my facial oils break through. Basically, it gets a little streaky at the end of the day no matte what. And my face always feels a little oilier than it usually does. Worse of all, it gives me those tiny bumps that looks like pimples, but goes away after a few hours of not wearing that foundation.
Me no like any sort of bumps on my face, be it pimple, allergy or boils.

The Good:
For one, I loved the idea of putting on foundations with built-in sunblock properties and that is Super-soft, silky, and, best of all, good for your skin. It was definitely more finely-milled than all the other brands of Mineral Foundations that I've tried (Lumiere, and MAD Minerals), and provides a MUCH more natural coverage than the REvlon and Loreal Mineralized Foundations that you get from the Drugstores in Singapore. Digressing, Mineralize Foundations sounded like a lame brother of the Mineral Foundations.

It also offers a pretty decent coverage, without being thick and cakey - the type that more or less hid minor imperfection by reflecting light off the skin; I'm not too sure how it'll fare on skin that are perpetually covered in huge cystic bumps and major discolouration.

Plus I am a fan of competitive pricing. It's always about how much it is, measured against how much I want that item. Giants sized EM foundations (8g) are priced at a very reasonable USD$12; 5 sample sizes are generous (and free!) and can last a few applications.

Best of all, it feels OH-SO-LIGHT on ma skin, like I'm not wearing makeup at all.

The Not-so-good
The foundation, though pretty long-lasting for something that just 'sits' on your skin without invading your pores, requires several touch-ups over the course of a day. As much as most people find it hard to believe, I hardly do touch ups when it comes to foundation (Yes, I have good skin!). Therefore, I find that a hassle.

Second, the oil control of EM foundation is almost non-existent. Although this was not a major problem for my combination skin, but looking too shiney can look a bit tricky in HOT, HUMID Singapore. And I found myself blotting my face for excessive oils - something which I have not done since Secondary School.

However my greatest make-up woe is the rate at which my skin oxidizes: very very fast.
Foundations that are applied would easily turn 2 shades darker by mid-day.
Pile on lousy foundation, and my skin will oxidize into something like a bright orange ball. **M.A.C. STUDIO FIX I am glaring at you!!**

Add the fact that I sweat exceptionally ALOT in Singapore's heat, which seemed to act as a catalyst to boost my skin's oxidization rate (uh-oh!). My face is usually slightly darker than my body by the end of the day.
Of course to be fair, this is not EM's fault alone, because almost all drugstore brand cosmetic foundations that I've tried before(Loreal, Maybelline, Bourjoius, even Lumiere) has given me the same problem.

Because it could not solve my oxidization problem, EM cannot be crowned my "Holy Grail Foundation". However, IMO, it's one of the better quality foundations that I've used. Once I've tried EM, there's no going back to my previous sticky messy L'oreal True Match Liquid FOundation.

I liked it enough to continue the range; but I can't say that I like it so much that I'll never search for a better one (with an equally okay price tag). It's also not the type of product that gets me hooked the first time I tried it on, but the type that grows on you over time, partially because you know that it is supposed to be good for your skin.

I guess my never-ending quest for the perfect foundation (with the perfect price-tag) is still at a very infantile stage. Having said that, I've recently embarked on this other new brand of preservative-free cosmetics, which already seemed very promising (except for the price-tag), and I'm getting all the tingly excitement to blog about it. But give me sometime to try it out, before I share it here.

Clue: It's Japanese.

IQ of a prawn

I seriously have a problem communicating with people, who has the intellect of a Prawn.

In the attempt to tackle my problem instead of whining and bitching about it, I tried seeking help from my friend, Val, who works with Autistic children, to design a programme which could potentially help me to tackle my problem. We spent ONE entire night to come up with a strategy that is not quite unlike the ones that she designs for her programmes.

Quite evidently, the failed outcome of my social experiment had prompted such an entry.

Grammar Homework

Believe it or not.

Grammar Exercises are meant for teachers, not students.

All those drills on tenses, synthetic sentences, paragraphing, continuous verbs etc., are meant to help the English Teacher (previously with good english), to counter the harmful side-effects caused by marking essays with frightfully bad English, repetitively.

After a cycle of traumatic marking, the teacher usually starts to doubt herself, wondering if she was the one who had it wrong all the while,
because at least 30 out of 42 students in the class wrote:

"I are having many fun at the camp"
or "John is self-preservative when he denied that he lied."
when she was almost certain that she had used the word self-preservation the other day to decribe the protagonist's knack for preserving himself from harm.

Without grammar exercises, the poor English Teacher might hit a mid-career crisis of speaking English like a Hokkien-spewing Ah Lian, whose adjectives, nouns, and verbs, that are the Hokkien manifestations of words associated with certain body parts below the torso.

***[Edit] Upon re-reading my entry, I realized with horror, that I've mis-spelt all my "Exercise" as "Excercise"; and "Believe" as "Belief"

*Roll eyes 360 degrees and burn off all my hair*

Be Yourself Day

In lieu of Youth Day's celebration, Thursday was decreed to be a "Be Yourself Day".

I intend to turn up at work with a potentially lethal vodka breath, streaky makeup and smudged mascara - remnants of Wednesday Ladies Night's partying, and scare the living daylights out of everyone else. **** KTG!!! ****

OR

I could just NOT turn up at work.

That's being myself.

Sick and Clinic

I was on a 6 day dosage of Traditional Chinese Medicine and therapy to cure my insomnia - which the sinsei said was the root of my vertigo illness and inability to grow fat no matter how much I ate.

It actually sounded good to me, except that at 23 years young, I am already fretting over the possibility of growing old with bent-backs, crooked nose with a big boiled perched on it and bad-temper.

Besides, I have already equipped and embarkeded on my never-ending quest for youth and beauty by:

-Embarking on my anti-cellulite routine using this Super Hot Body Shaping Essence, which feels like rubbing chilli padi on your tongue
-Start shopping and looking out for potential uplifting eye serum
-Becoming obsessive in the consumption of anti-oxidant products and Vitamin C
( I am actually taking this 4 pill per day Hakubi White C2 in a bid to look fairer and younger)
-Start worrying, when my agents send me to cast for TVC characters in their late twenties

As a reward after the gruelling 6 days, I checked out this not-so-new establishment, with a pharma-kitsch decor, right in the heart of Clarke Quay - Clinic.

With part of the fun including wheelchairs as seats, cocktail concoction served in syringe and IV drips.


Ever seen a person having so much fun on a wheelchair?

It's a place that you either love or hate, which you perceived as creative or sick. Personally, it was fun for the first 10 minutes, banging into tables in attempts to maneouvre the wheelchairs.
But it wouldn't be a place that I'd patronize as a regular, with its only draw being the novel concept, because novelty can only titillate so much.

Plus, they have a very limited selection of Cocktail beverages, and only serves ONE type of beer there. ZZZzzz

Cheap Sex

It was early in the morning and about 8 of us were crammed in the tiny makeshift Girl's locker room, mulling around doing nothing in particular and talking about nothing specific in particular, and soon our conversation topic shifted to Tampons.

Girl A: Crap, Red Flag's up today... Not sure if I brought enough tampons.

A few of us: I have some if you need.

In between applying lipstick, Girl B who was originally sitting quietly in a corner napping looked up.

Girl B: I don't dare to use tampons; my friend said that it feels like having sex 24/7 when you have it on.

(Before you start taking her word for it, it doens't. You don't see random females writhing away on the streets in ecstacy...)

Girl A: Please lor, if that were true, then sex is damn cheap. Just $10 for a box of 32 Happy Hours.

This is essentially a pointless post, done in an inspirational bout of cam-whoring glee

Communicasia 2008

Judging from the picture, what do you think is my business at Communicasia 2008?



A) A Janitor commissioned to clean the toilets during Communicasia 08
B) A Model for Samsung Electronics


For 4 consecutive days, I wore fake eyelashes (Flutter, flutter) ***MAJOR ACHIEVEMENT, because they're a bitch to put on, especially since I always end up glueing my eyelids together instead.

For 4 consecutive days, I STYLED my hair **Another Major feat, because I didn't end up loking like I'm the PRC guniang selling Char Siew Buns in the Forbidden City Museum

For 4 consecutive days, I woke up at 7am and spent close to 2 hours doing my make up and hair, because I am really really slow when I put on my make up.

For 4 consecutive days, for 8 hours each day, I mindlessly repeated how AMAZING/SLIM/SMALL Samsung Bluetooths are.

Am I glad that it's finally OVER.

This is the 3rd consecutive YEAR that I'm modelling at Communicasia, and each year, my uniform gets progressively ugly...

CommAsia '06

Eeps, I wore blue eye shadow.

CommAsia '07



CommAsia '08

All of Samsung's models in Ugly Garb

At the risk of sounding like an ungrateful, whiney bitch, I was thankful for the company of a bunch of really wonderful, fun and prettaye ladies, who braved the 32 hour of standing with me...





Some of the Korean dudes who helped and entertained us along the way...



And not forgetting my fav bunch of ladies whom I not only shared a locker with, but also everything from eye shadow palettes and hair spray, to grousings and bimbotic nonsense. Val and Zilei.



Zilei, Moi, Our Ultimate Momma, Val

PS: Actually, do check out the Mono Bluetooth headset from Samsung, WEP 500. They're one of the smallest in the world currently - about the size of a dollar coin, and comes in a myraid of attractive colours (red, blue, green, silver, black etc). It sports a futuristic "cute" circular design, with advance audio technology, simplistic control buttons and 2 Mic Solution to enhance the picking up of surrounding sounds.



Cool Enough?

They even have a limited edition set, co-branded with YSL, and it comes in a Luxurious Gold Design.

Still need more proof that it's worth a look?

I heard it's selling pretty well in India... :D:D:D

The Flawed Judgment

Things that I will do for a Raoul sale, especially when I sense one brewing over the horizon

1) Google for news of the sale on all Singapore Online Forums, every other day

2) Found the announcement at 3AM in the morning and text all my girly-pals.

Raoul Annual Sale

HITACHI TOWERS
#01-11/12
OPENING HOURS: 11AM - 9PM, MON - FRI
11AM - 5PM, SAT
CLOSED ON SUN & PUBLIC HOLIDAYS

3) Woke up at 9AM in the morning so that I'll be a pioneer shopper when the sale starts at 11AM. It's a major feat because 9AM is the time for birds to wake up.

4) Brave all the sweatiness and smelly armpits (of other people), and risk being spotted like an Auntie from the market, just so to dig through the pile of discounted clothes

I love Raoul Men's 2-ply cotton shirts in tapered cut, especially on tall, lean men. It gives them an extremely composed and in-control look, as if even the shirt is afraid of crinkling on them.


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On the way back home, I took a seat on the train opposite a Mother with 2 young daughters (probably between 7 to 10 years old).

The younger of the 2 daughters was fixated on me, and after staring at me for 5 minutes, she whispered a very audible whisper - I guess all kids that young have severe volume control disability - to her mother.

Girls : Mummy, that jiejie is very pretty! Her eyes look like princess eyes!

The mother smiled at her daughter, while I pretended to not hear her...eh this girl will grow up to be someone with very good taste ley, I silently thought to myself. Plus she didn't call me an auntie. Smart girl. Not only will she have good taste, she'll grow up to be smart too.

Then the little girl continued...
"Mummy, can you make my hair curly curly like hers? And I also want that dot on the cheek", the little girl raised her pinky to her right cheek, all the while still looking at me.

The mother took a quick glance at me, as if embarrassed that her daughter is talking so loudly, and to my mortification, she whispered back not too softly either...

"Why on earth would you want a pimple on your cheek for?"

gwa gwa gwa..... I guess volume control disability runs in the family

Eating too much in Japan PART II

Now I'll try to complete my Eating Too Much in Japan chronicles.

The ride Northwards from Hakodate to Toya was about 2 hours, and after spending the entire morning in a wild goose chase for sleeping Sakura trees, we were almost late for the train, and we were dying from hunger (considering how well-fed I'd been the past few days).

So I bought an extremely expensive sushi bento set (550 yen) of rice to munch on the train, couple with some heavily marinated fish that I grabbed on a whim but couldn't finish the night before.






Then you eat it Mr Bean style...like this...


Toya is basically a sleepy quiet little town with hidden treasures of its own (The International Summit wouldn't be held there if it was a blah). Famed for its genuine volcanic Onsen (Hot Springs) that the Japanese prized, and the Uzusan (A Volcano), that is curiously both a private possesion as well as a national treasure.

It was a dusty and cold SUnday late afternoon when we reached Toya, and all the small noodle stands were closed. So we were left with convenience stores like 7-11.
I think I might have mentioned previously that their 7-11s are not to be belittled, because they stack up pre-packed food with standard that can beat our Sakae Sushi/Genki Sushi hands down, feet bound.


This is just SNACKS, and I am so greedy. Dinner is just in 2 hours, but the strawberry Yogurt is calling me, the peach drink is talking to me, and so is the sponge cake that I'm about the grab before some Kukunaden snapped this picture.


Soaking our freezing feet at one of the many public HOT foot baths....


...WHile eating!!

Soon it was the ostentatious affair called dinner which was delivered to our room... Stonepot rice with scallops, scallop pie, sashimi, Oden, chawanmushi, Some vege, and I don't really know what the rest are called...



Okie fine I exaggerated a little for there was no geishas carrying tea pots dancing before serving us tea, nor were there elaborate little bows that we had to make before eating. And it wasn't some fancy hotel food that are commonly seen plastered all over the blogosphere. It was just quality, heart-warming traditional Japanese food that normal families eat on celebratory occassions. We just tucked in, but the spread was really fine, and the quality was good.



As the sun sets, the fireworks came, and amidst it's splendour, we ate again. Ice cream this time. I'm sorry, but we are THAT greedy. I'm certain that there were some more other food, and Sake and Beer, and I was warm, heady and overwhelmed (and pleasantly surprised) as well, that nothing else mattered.

When we awoke the next morning, breakfast was already there. Breakfast in Bed. :p


If I were a man, I'd want to marry a Japanese wife, judging by the typical breakfast that she'd prepare for me.

After scaling the famed volcano Usuzan in Toya, we attempted to eat to past time because buses pass by that area only 5 times a day, and we had about 3 hours to kill before the next bus came.

Food in Toya was relatively pricey because the bulk of the people made their livelihood out of tourist money. It's not that the prices there are massively inflated, but rather they just didn't have cheap food around. Eg, 1 bowl of Miso Ramen would cost 700 yen in down town Tokyo, it probably costs about 750 yen at the VOlcanic Site in Toya; and that was the cheapest item on the menu.

But amidst mulling aimlessly down the alleys trying to avoid the rain, we came across a make-shift stall with a huge crowd of Japanese School girls. Naturally, I had to take a look.



That stall sold these...


Pretty random and common Goreng Pisang look-alikes. But the stall owner also sold Big hot fluffy Hokkaido Potatoes that are baked in the Jacket, and topped with creamy HOkkaido Butter. On such a cold day, THAT spoke to me.

I also wanted this Goreng Pisang thinggie (it actually said Potato Croquette on the board), but it looked nothing like the measly pimply overfried looking one that you get at Bugis junction. This one is huge (about the size of my face), with a generous and creamy potato center and a tinge of banana taste in it (???). I swore I tasted banana.



Then the stall owner proceeded to intrigue the bunch of Japanese girls with bottled Hokkaido Fresh Milk that was actually creamy and thick, which sent them (and me) into fits of excitement. You can't blame me because I've just been whipped dizzy by the cold wind up in the mountain and warm creamy milk to go with my a hot potato sounded extremely enticing.



And because there was still time, we went to eat the Shio Ramen (sea-salt Ramen that was supposedly famous there)

I guess we probably didnt pick the correct noodle shop to eat in.

And the famous Toya confectionary... of rum-soaked raisins in soft cream, sandwiched between 2 layers langue de chat biscuits.


On the train bound for Sapporo about 2 hours later, I ate again.




Looking terribly pissed with my smashed Tiramiu...It's not Pre-taye anymore. *Pouts*

Plus some other random food that Zy grabbed from the convenience stall at the last minute despite my protests.

It says seafood noodle. But see that prawn on the chopstick that's smaller than my nostrils??? That's about the only piece of condiment in that noodle that can be remotely considered to be a seafood.

Upon reaching Sapporo, we followed the Inn owner's suggestion to try the famous Yaki Tori shop nearby.


Look at the look of the waiter in the top left corner. I tried to ask him what was the raw daikon (grated radish)in the plate for, and he proceeded to tell us that it was "OISHII!" Yay...so much so...

But the price of barbecued sticks of meat and veges are a bit high for us 5 backpacking travellors... cheapest was like 130 yen for the basic egg omelette thinggie. And the worse part is, you need to order at least 2 portions of every type of things that you order which means 130 * 2 = 260 yen = $3.50 to eat an omelette. And for me to make a meal out of eating the little nibblies like that, I'd prolly need to eat like 20 of them, of which the average price is about 200 yen each. Which means i'll hafta spend 4000 yen for a dinner.

So what we did was we ordered the bare minimal to prevent the cooks from emptying their pots of cold raw daikons on us, and went to the mao cow's favourite place on earth again. THE SUPERMARKET!!!


Extra cookie point for Daiei for slashing 50% off all its cooked food by the time we braved the cold to walk there.





Home Sweet Home...
Dinner Cheap Dinner

Awoke to breakfast lovingly prepared by ZY from last night's left overs.


As if insufficient, we set off to the Ishiya - the famous Shiroi Koibito Chocolate factory.

With Chocolate coated walls...Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Style.



Remember this famous advertisement in the 70's with a girl biting into this delicate confectionery made of white chocolate sandwiched in between 2 layers of langue de chat, and then spring seemed to have arrived around her???



Ring a bell??
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Actually I don't remember seeing such an ad, but this stuff is touted as Hokkaido's most famous export.


And we not only get to watch the preparation process of the Hokkaidians' favourite chocolate biscuit, we get to eat at 90 minutes eat-all-you-can cake buffet.
I'm glad I've held back my cravings for all the pretty strawberry shortcakes and bursting fruit tarts, when I see them sitting prettily in Tokyo's Daimaru.


Our chiketto printed with the time when the 90 minutes is up


Cakes Galore!



And teas of all kinds...especially nearing the end of the 90 min, when you are just too stuffed to eat anymore cakes and pies


ice cream.


Oops...don't even think of asking me to smile for a picture when the soft serve here tastes like a dream.

Was so stuffed that I vowed not to eat anymore things for the rest of the day...

Even when we went to Sapporo Beer Museum, I just goofed around and didnt even take a sip of their specialty brew...


But as dinner time loomed near, we chanced upon this small alley at the entrance of Sapporo's Red Light district called "Noodle Alley", famous for its various types of noodles. DUH~


And we chose a quiet little hole in the wall shop Higuma that sells Butter Corn Ramen.




No pictures of how a buttern corn Ramen looks like, because I was sharing the noodles, and I had to fight for my share before ZY gobbles down everything.

The next day would be the day we moved our butts from Hokkaido back to Kyuushu
And this time, we'll be going to Kyoto. Via this route, with our by now Gi-normous luggage in tow.
Take a subway ---> railway station
Railway station --take a JR--> Sapporo Local airport
Local airport --internal flight--> across the oceans to Itami airport in Osaka
Osaka Itami airport -- Airport limousine bus--> Kyoto JR Central
Kyoto JR Central --subway--> Gion district where our hostel is located.

We had to prepare ourselves by eating a good breakfast. Of fat tomatoes, pizza, milk and Apple tea (They have the hot type in Japan).



Hokkaido is a land of many famously yummy food. Musk melons (I've seen one that cost more than my Levi's Lady's Cut jeans), asparagus, dairy products, cookies, and sea produce. I'll go back there again just to eat. And buy my Snuffles Cheesecake

The transporting and the waiting around took the entire day, that by the time we reached Kyoto, it was already 7-ish.

The Gion and its neighbouring area is heavily populated with over-priced restaurants, lussup (for adults only) bars hiding under the facade of restaurants, eat-all-you-can-for 90 min sukiyaki buffets; after parting our ways with the other 3 travellers because we were unable to reach a consensus on what to eat, we ventured into one of the small alleys, another quiet hole-in-the-wall place that sells Okonomiyaki, run by an elderly woman.



After which, we proceeded to hunt for other food. And we arrived at Wang Jiang. This has to be the cheapest place to eat out that we've seen in the entire Kobe-Nara area. With crudely advertised pictures of Mongolian Fried Mutton and long beans, an ugly Neon sign, and the sights of dirty-homeless looking people (probably lowly paid construction workers) entering and sitting at the counter of the eatery, it may be easily scoffed by the average traveller hoping to get as much out of their "Authentic Kyoto" experience. Because afterall, the Gion district houses some of the most exquisite tea houses and delicately prepared beef delicacies in Japan. Who has time for oiley Chinese food in such a dirty looking place with promises of leeching the stink of smoke and oil onto you the moment you step in.

Not big on Presentation, but big of taste.




On top of those dirty/homeless looking people, the place is also frequented by Salarymen. For the price of a set meal in some other eateries, they can get a spread here.




For the 2nd last stop in Japan, we decide to eat whatever we want, regardless of the cost.

First stop was at Mr Young Men, a Kyoto Restaurant that specializes in Okonomiyaki and Yaki-Soba (Fried Japanese Noodles), highly raved by a few Travller's guide book.
Apart from the more traditional versions of the Okonomiyaki with Pork and Beef (like the one I had the night before), they offer more funky ingredients in the Okonomiyaki with even Funkier names.



Hah! I wonder if the pre-dominant genre of reading material in the shop has anything to do with the shop's name; or if it has anything to do with its popularity amongst the ANG MO Travel Book writers


Censored...if not later they say my blog is a "Porno" blog...Now it's just "R21". Hurhur.

After a round in Mr Young Men, we headed out to take a walk around the Teramachi Covered SHopping Alley, then we spotted some people crowding outside a stall eating Takoyaki, condimented with lots of green onion sprinkled at the top.

I must say it's the BEST Takoyaki I've ever tasted.
The mayonnaise was generous, but not overdone; the barbecue sauce added a right touch of tanginess to it, and the chopped raw green onion (it's actually the green part of what we call Leek) makes every bite of the Takoyaki somewhat crisp and refreshing, that you won't get sick of it even after eating 8 balls.

Kyoto, being Japan's capital for about a thousand years, is the cradle of many aspects of Japanese culture as we know it today. Undamnaged by the WWII, it contains some of the most well-preserved evidence of Japan's feudal history, more than 10 of which have been classified UNESCO World Heritage Sites.

Having only about 6 hours left to sight see around Kyoto before we catch the train back to Osaka, I chose to visit the Nijo Castle, or the Kyoto Residence of the Tokugawa Shoguns, with its famous Nightingale Flooring, famous Zen Gardens, Ninja's Secret Chambers, the historically significant Ninomaru Palace, within which Tokugawa Yoshinobu declared that the Tokugawa family would return authority back to the Imperial Court.

I know this is supposed to be a food-centric entry, but I was dizzy with excitment seeing all the things that I've only read about in book, so spare me a paragraph.


Castle Entrace


Entrance to the Ninomaru Palace, decorated with elaborate wood carvings and gold leaves, to demonstrate the power and might of the TOkugawa family.


A pond created using Zen Principles...Too bad I didnt have time to sit down and contemplate the points in Zen.

Sadly, no picture taking was allowed within the interiors of the Castle.

Anyway, from Nijo-Jo, our group split up and we went off to see the famous Buddhist KiyoMizu-Dera (Loosely tanslated to be Pure Water Temple) and the very quaint Chawan-Zaka (Teapot Lane), which was along the way.




A very badly formed Kyoho Grape Soft-serve, to combat the terribly hot weather, while trekking up the mountain slope.




The gorgeous tranquil Surrounding...




Believers queuing up for a sip of blessing from the cold mountain water.


I joined in the fun, just to have a taste of mountain water.

Even Jap Monks are anal about cleanliness, because they used UV to disinfect all the common metal scoops used to catch the spring water.

Refresher before rushing back to catch the Bullet train to Osaka.


Finally, when we reached Osaka, we ended the day by treating ourselves to thick huge chunks of fatt Barbecued meat.


For the 2nd last day in Japan, running low in $$$$$$, we ate simply. We were hoping to conserve enough cash to visit the Osaka Castle, take transport to the airport the next day, and buy 2 of those sweet musk melons home.
Apart from the couple of Shaka Shaka chicken from McDonalds and a Giant Frankfurter in the late afternoon, we didnt really eat anything.


Oh and then we got detracted from our original plan when we spotted a flea market, and blew about 2000 yen (~$30 sgd) of unplanned money on toys and clothes because things were going for as cheap as 100 yen per dress (~$1.30 sgd), and 300 yen for a winter coat. *Jaw drop*


But alas, as we got to Daimaru for our Melon Shopping, the prices were way beyond budget. I thought of setting aside 2000 yen ($30 sgd) for 1 melon is crazy enough...but spot the price tag??? One melon costs about 8000 ++ yen (which is about 100+ sgd), and the cherry tomatoes are even crazier.




So we thought, what the hell, we will have a ALOT of food for supper.
Ta Da~


On my last day in Japan, we really didnt have alot of Cash left...
We made our own breakfast...Of Oranges and Vanilla Yoghurt, and a sandwich that we forgot to eat the night before. :X



By the time we reached the airport at 2pm, I was feeling a little rueful that the trip was coming to an end, and all I wanted to eat was those little Japanese rice balls that mothers would into the lunch boxes of little school children before they went to school. And we squandered away our last bit of money on buying vanilla flavoured cigarrettes (1 box each) for the people at home who smokes.