Birthdays and Flyers

I hate not updating my blog even for a day. It feels like the world is passing me by without me keeping tabs on it. I need to do records. I need to write things down. Only then will I feel secure, reassured and live life to the fullest.

:)

Which is why it bugs me that I've been lazy. Yesterday, I went out with friends to celebrate V's birthday. Today is the next day, and the day is almost ending, and still I've not yet blogged about it. So here you go.

Unless you want to go into the nitty-gritty details like who said what and who ate what which is really boring and will probably keep you off this blog forever (btw, I ate Tom Yum Kung at Secret Recipe and it was really nice and I had two big prawns which was probably really nice if they weren't two big prawns and I felt really full and then two big prawns became two big THREATENING prawns and S didn't have any prawns which was disappointing and unfair but she had strawberry milkshake which I didn't order and that was disappointing and unfair too! and the others ate lots of food including the beautiful chocolate birthday cake that had Batman icing!! on it of which I couldn't finish though but the others could indicating hence their supreme digesting powers) I will probably not tell you in detail what the rest ate.

The gist was this, though.

We ate and were happy. Sometimes, we were lame, but mostly it was contenting. More importantly, it was V's birthday. And we went up the Singapore Flyer and saw pretty Lego things, which made it an overall awesome day. Yay!

Pictures:

My excuse for not editing these photos is that I'm eating an apple right now and have only one available hand and everyone knows you can't edit photos with one available hand. OK sorry, I've edited them a little.



The birthday cake. I know, pretty right? There is a story behind this.



The birthday cake after A's elite cutting skills. A's hands move at a speed virtually undetectable to human eye, hence creating a blurry effect on all cameras and lenses.





One of the things I sometimes regret when I go out with friends is not taking enough pictures. More often than not I am caught up in the actual event of being there, rather than remembering to pause and whip out my camera to capture the moment.

The one aspect of the day that was extremely special was going on top of the Singapore Flyer. Similar to the London Eye, Wikipedia says calls it a 'Giant Observatory Wheel' and Singapore Flyer calls itself 'the world's largest observational wheel' - a surer corporate branding if I've ever seen one.

What I think the Singapore Flyer actually does is to allow you time to cozy up with your partner in a capsule situated about a million feet off the air while people around you are busy snapping photos of the setting sun behind the city centre buildings. A serious answer, I think, would be:

The Singapore Flyer allows you to take a step back to access yourself.

Pictures:



The Flyer at night. No entry is complete without stealing images from Google.

Pictures I took:



This is the capsule we were in, shaped like a... capsule. Takes about 30 minutes to make one rotation.



Our view.

The buildings down below look like Lego, very miniature and unreal. For some reason, they kinda remind me of the time when I accidentally stepped on a couple of Lego bases and my feet hurt like hell afterwards, which made me think: what if I were to step or fall on these buildings? And then I realise:

Entirely suicidal.



Fields and more buildings. Why no cow?



Sunset. The scene is 100x better than the photo.

It is funny how often we see these things everyday - buildings, the sun, silhouettes, roads, rivers and lights, and yet it is only when they are framed in a certain way that we actually stop to consider the effervescence of our surroundings.



I took this shot because of the red buildings, hovering so unassumingly at the edge of the water but commanding more than enough attention. Sneaky. 0:]

"Stop being emo there," S says to me at some point in time, and then I moved over to sit with her. We took some pictures, including a black-of-white one of V's head growing out of my back.

This, I decided, was my next stage of mutation.

Sorry, no photo.



A bad shot, but nevertheless: cars moving past down there gives me an urge to raise my thumb to measure them. Looking at the cars from above makes it surreal that humans could be actually harmed by these objects. Car accidents are tragic and encompassing, but when you're stranded a million feet above ground everything below you appears harmless and small.

And then a truck of workers went by and I realised, oh we are smaller than that.



More rainbows, so pretty... even with the stain. Sorry about that.



Sorry, this entry is a lie. We actually went onto a rollercoaster at the record-breaking height of 420 feet going at a speed of 120mph and I was successful in not screaming or fainting. Also, I fell asleep in my seat. NEXT!



Just kidding. Night lighting makes the Flyer seem like Escape Theme Park, a sure sign of an identity crisis.


Okay, this appears to be quite a long entry but is actually not really. I guess my only gripe at the end is that the ride goes far too slow and takes way too long. Don't get me wrong, it's rather nice: the capsule is big, there are chairs if you're tired, and the view from around is very pretty and blissfully escapist.

However, 30 mins for an unchanging view, however nice it is, just grinds on you after a while.

Hence, I propose a few improvements to the Flyer:

1. A performance. Have everyone in the buildings opposite us dress in red jumpsuits and at selected intervals, will have to pop out of each glass window with arms raised screaming "Yay!"
2. Have helicopters flying past us at scheduled intervals, leaving behind trails of clouds/smoke/stardust that say "WELCOME TO SINGAPORE."
3. Have random people scale up buildings and if made to the top: beat chest and roar like King Kong.
4. Situate cows in the fields below.
5. Situate cows leaping onto one another in the fields below.
6. Spanish bullfight. Just kidding.

Last but definitely not least, it's 1am. Meaning, a new day. Meaning...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY V! I do not know how to add sparkles on happy birthday greetings ever. But please have a very very merry 21st and pretend this message has sparkles even if it doesn't! :D

Also hope that you're reading this, and if you're not, then my SMS when I wake up later on.

LASTLYYY. I am hungry. And sorry that I fail at reading blogs. ;_;

Review: Lay's

Hello, hello everyone. While I wait for Sims 2 to download (another 3 weeks 2 days to go) and neglect my homework in the process I've decided to write another review, this time for my favourite potato chips - Lay's!

When I was a kid I loved ice cream. I loved ice cream so much that I ate it everyday, got a stomachache, and decided that I didn't love it anymore. Another thing I truly loved was potato chips, or any junk food for that matter, but potato chips speaks to my heart like a true Romeo. Anyhow, to give you an example of how much I loved potato chips:

One day I brought a pack (it was Jack and Jill's) to my French language class, attempted to open it under my desk because I was feelin' the bored, and then I got this look from my teacher that should I ever attempt to riot against French language classes at Bishan in future I will think of that look and shudder, wilt, die. Because it was a scary look. It was a look that said YOU NEED TO STOP DISRUPTING MY CLASS AND GETTING 3.5/15 FOR YOUR FRENCH TESTS.

It was me opening the potato chips under the desk causing a ruckus.

Anyhow, that's not the point. The point is that I loved potato chips so much I risked my life to eat it.

Which is why Lay's potato chips is very special to me:




Hello my middle name is I Steal Images from Google Images!

Although I would prefer the can version:




Raindrops are falling from the sky!

I would feel that the only difference between a pack of Lay's and its can version is the thickness of the chip, ie. how much you get froma bite. Lay's chips in a can is definitely thicker than Lay's chip in a pack, and if I were going to be ever anal with my estimation, let me pick up a ruler and say possibly by a millimetre.

Now, if you are going to ask me, how can you be so anal it's just a millimetre?!

DO YOU THINK THE ARCHITECTS SAID THAT WHEN THEY DESIGNED THE EIFFEL TOWER?

Picture this.

ARCHITECT ONE: Hey Brother, I woke up and had an epiphany.
ARCHITECT ONE: So I was at the Louvre and they were showing this painting of some woman with a forehead and I was like eh, SHE IS TOTALLY CUTE and then I realised all of life's sins stem from temptation, my youth is fleeting and then I decided, I will build a tower to depict this divine revelation right smack in the middle of Paris. WILL BE NAMED AFTER MYSELF. Comprenez-vous?
ARCHITECT TWO: Ce vin est magnifique!
ARCHITECT ONE: So glad you agree. Anyhow, here's the sketch.
ARCHITECT TWO: Eh Monsieur Gustave, but that's a- that's a cat?
ARCHITECT ONE: Awww mannn!! Are Edisons not allowed to doodle anymore? Check out the thing next to it!
ARCHITECT TWO: A building? In the middle of Paris?
ARCHITECT ONE: WOMAN, HAVE YOU NOT BEEN LISTENING TO ME. The tower embodies all of humanity's desires! Its shape is a symbol of the absolute truth! This is my life ambition! The crux of my career! This is what's going to fire your lazy ass if you don't write that proposal right now!
ARCHITECT TWO: No wait Monsieur-- but this is-- don't you realise that the measurements are off by a--
ARCHITECT ONE: Here, have an escargot.


Exactly. A millimetre is paramount to all aspects of life and my tastebuds are testimony of that.

Lay's canned potato chips are thick, delicious and unassuming. You don't have to be a millionaire to eat it. See, I went to NTUC just now and bought a can for $2.35 (Christmas special!) which means that if you have a steady income and a steady boyfriend, YOU CAN EAT IT EVERY HOUR OF YOUR LIFE. (Although I will say a silent prayer for your digestive juices and send you off to that sacred journey.)

Yes, you're right!

The best part is, Lay's is not like any other potato chips.

Let's see the comparisons:

1. Lay's VS Jack 'n Jill:

When I was a little kid, young and innocent and didn't know better, I used to love Jack n Jill's. It was my favourite potato chip; I was immensely addicted. And then a day came when there was a French class and there was a break and there was this friend of mine who saw my potato chips and asked, "Can I have one?" and before I could answer, she PLOWED HER FINGERS INTO MY CHIPS.

Her fingernails were also long and nourished with soft, grey dirt.

From that day onwards, for every Jack 'n Jill potato chips that I buy the image of a girl with long fingernails nourished with soft, grey dirt plowing into my lifeline will forever be embedded in my mind. Nevertheless, I never looked at that brand of potato chips ever again in the same way. It also didn't help that the chips I was eating was garlic flavour, which means that the smell OH THE SMELL provided a scintillating addition to a very inviting image.

(If you'd like to know who that friend was, don't bother. We lost contact right after I quitted French, which was probably all very well because the only thing that I remembered about her was her fingernails. o_O)

Also, if there were a word to describe a packet of Jack 'n Jill potato chips it would be stingy.

If I were a little more vulgar I would say that lying, cheating son of a-- but I'm really not.

A pack if Jack 'n Jill potato chips measures about, let's see, half of your arm. That's a rough estimation from memory, as I don't have the pack with me right now.

Well, then, what about the amount of chips inside the pack?

NOT EVEN A QUARTER OF YOUR LITTLE PINKY.

I swear, for every time I opened up a pack as a kid I felt a burst of childlike, ROARING rage. Hello, if I paid $1.50 for a bag of chips I EXPECT to get $1.50 of a bag of chips!

It would also seem that the number of chips in the packet are seeing a steady decline over the years.

Hence, I can deduce that Jack 'n Jill potato chips operate on a single law of economics:

Market inflation is directly proportionate to product deflation.

1. Lay's VS Pringles

From the amount that NTUC has stocked on its shelves, I can only assume that Lay's is as popular as Pringles. (Ha ha! J'nJ is nowhere in sight!) In fact, Pringles is possibly more popular than Ruffles, the latter of which can be found only outside the doors of NTUC. (Or maybe it's the other way round? Doesn't matter.)

ANYHOW. I do not understand the deal with Pringles. I've tried a couple of flavours: cheese, original (bland!), spicy, barbecue, (hello bland masquerading as barbecue) and probably sour cream if they have the flavour, and I have to admit this:

No Pringles I've eaten so far has spoken to my inner soul. I felt neither a burst of empowerment nor a strong motivation to rob NTUC of its entire shelves of chips. Eating Pringles, in my opinion, is like drinking Coke - boring and bland and should only be attempted if you are desperate for fruit juice. Which is to say, if we went out and ordered drinks I will probably never ask for Coke, unless the waiter tackles me to the ground with a knife to my throat and threatens to cut out my gullet.

Joking.

Seriously speaking, though, I don't like Coke much, and I don't think it's a healthy drink to take at any meals. It's also bland and boring... like Pringles.

Which brings me back to Pringles:

Whoa, baby, have you eaten that thing? (Of course I have, and of course you have.) It's just about the blandest thing I've ever tasted. (Just exaggerating, of course.) That is not to say my scars run so deep that I will scream and die the next time I see one on the shelves, but Pringles is not a brand I will think to crave in the middle of the night, that is, if I have cravings in the middle of the night.

It's something that allows itself to be eaten, and then forgotten about 5 minutes later. Pringles when I am out of chips taste okay. Pringles cans after cans when I am out of chips is not. If there were an excite-o-metre for brands which is judged by how high I leap from the ground, I will say that I will leap only 10 centimetres for Pringles.

Lay's, on the other hand, - I WILL LEAP THROUGH THE CEILING, LEAP THROUGH THE ROOF, LEAP TO THE SKY and pray to God I'll land something soft afterwards.

Here are the top 5 reasons why I love Lay's:

1. Reasonably large packet, can be slightly expensive on average days, but well worth the amount inside.
2. Rich taste and flavour. You can't forget a Lay's after you've tasted it.
3. Strength in its bite. Jack 'n Jill will probably crumble to the ground on one tweak of the pinky.
4. There for you. On the shelves. Anywhere!
5. Its copywriting tells lies and yet it tells them so good.

Example, on the back cover of a Lay's you can find:

Once you experience the big taste of LAY'S STAX© potato crisp, you'll understand why it's the perfect potato crisp for your active lifestyle.

Enjoy LAY'S STAX© potato crisps at the office, around the house, on the go or WHEREVER you are!

GET YOUR SMILE ON!

This paragraph implies that:

1. Eating Lay's is as good as jogging. Now ditch those running shoes and get your ass on the couch.

2. People with active lifestyles eat Lay's. Most of them look like Michael Phelps.

3. You can eat Lay's at the office, contented that your boss won't throw you out for sheer incompetency.

4. You can eat Lay's anywhere and everywhere, including the MRT, where security guards will most likely offer to join in.

5. If however, they become incredibly erratic, you can still eat Lay's in jail, hopefully sharing a bite or two with your cellmates. Both of you will grin happily. Get your smile on!


These points aside, wouldn't you agree that the copywriting does its job brilliantly? It speaks to you as a customer, in a down-to-earth and informal way, at the same time retaining the brand image of Lay's: funky, appealing and likable. It's right next to the nutrition facts too, hence never once emphasising that Lay's have 2.5g of saturated fat, 2.5g of polyunsaturated fat, 5.5g of monounsaturated fat, 15g of carbohydrate and only 1g of protein.

Which is basically saying:

If Lay's is your only diet you will probably die.
However, eat it everywhere if you'd like an active lifestyle!

LIES! I say.

But sneaky, sneaky!


In conclusion, to stop this entry from dragging out more than what it set out to be, I'd like anyone reading this to repeat after me:

1. As a consumer I will be discerning.
2. As a consumer I will eat Lay's.

That is all! And if you're ever so keen to answer, what's your favourite flavour? Mine's barbecue. :)

(Disclaimer: This entry represents entirely my opinion and is hence, judgmental, biased and hyper. It is in no way a representation of yours: go ahead and feel free to disagree.

This entry details what I feel towards certain brands of potato chips. However it may sound like, I hate neither Jack 'n Jill nor Pringles. In fact, I am being a hypocrite and still eating them to this date. I just like Lay's infinitely better. :)

No potato chips was harmed or killed in the making of this entry. A can, however, was devoured.)

Jay Chou

Okay, I must admit I don't listen to a lot of Jay Chou as his singing style always reminds me of frying beans: the beans jump around the wok without much goal and purpose.

So imagine how surprised I was to tune in to one of his songs today and realise with a start that I could understand what the man was saying.

Perhaps I am too tired and am having one of those moments where my brain decodes anything thrown at it.

Guys, is that an achievement or what? Not saying I hate Jay Chou or anything. I just assumed that the guy had an abstract way of singing that is only comprehensible to me under the influence of alcohol.

Anyhow the song is Dao Xiang.

For a minute there that I listened to it I thought to myself: this is IT. This is the moment where I get my hyperness back. But I guess I be needin' more of those Jay Chou songs, bartender.

Piano

OKAY. I don't know how people to do it but playing the piano is like controlling a monster. Does this analogy mean that I'm less pro than others and will never be good as the pros on Youtube? I don't know how people do it. They make it seem like they're stroking... water - the notes flow seamlessly one after the next.

IN MY CASE, HOWEVER. Playing the piano is like battling in an arena, with loud dramatic music in the background and sweat rolling down my back. I am huffing and puffing like a three-ton bull, as I charge forward to wring the beast by its neck. Then it mangles me and I die.

I also have a creative block, btw.

WHY MUST ENTRIES HAVE TITLES

I have to admit. Getting comments on my blog and journal makes me happy. It gives me the shivers. It drives me into a fit, after which I will proceed to collapse onto the floor and then someone will have to do CPR on me. Hopefully someone that looks like Wentworth Miller.

I REFUSED TO BE REVIVED BY ANYONE OTHER THAN WENTWORTH MILLER!

There. I said it.

I find writing public blogs to be a scary, scary thing. Telling people you know about your blog even more so, but it's, also, at the same time, oddly addicting. You want people to hear your voice, but when they do you start to think all kinds of funny thoughts. Do I sound stupid? Did I make any typos? Is it time for my medicine yet? And most importantly: this. Does my opinion matter?

The answer is yes. It does matter. One thing I find most interesting about reading blogs is the variety of styles and opinions you get out of them. A similar topic approached by different people can take a vastly unpredictable turn.

Take, for example, a cat. Three people walking along Sixth Avenue sees the same cat, but all three will get different messages out of it. All three will, hopefully, have a blog.

Today, Person 1 blogs to his friends, as I was walking past Sixth Avenue I saw a cat. It was black and female and very sweet. Which reminds me, time to give Snowy a bath!!

OMG, you guys! the second person may write, I saw a stray cat along Sixth Avenue today. What's with stray cats along Sixth Avenue!? Do the people not love their pets anymore. Animal rights! Oppression by society! I refuse to be daunted by cruel human behaviour!

Dear Diary, and Person 3 writes finally, TODAY I SAW A TIGER THE SIZE OF AN AFRICAN ZOO.

As you can see, same topic and different approaches, which is what makes blogs so fun to read.

In the past, I've had many, many blogs. On Livejournal, on Blogspot, on Opendiary, on Wordpress - blogs that I created and abandoned, blogs whose usernames I got sick of after about 5 minutes after creation. If each of us only get one award in our lifetime then I should probably get the award for Wasting Most Internet Space. Sometimes, before I go to bed I think of the 50+ blognames that I've abandoned and say a silent prayer. Sometimes they will haunt my dreams and wake me up screaming in the middle of the night.

Nevertheless, no matter how many blogs I have I've never quite had a public blog. I've had private journals in which I write angsty poems, semi-private journals in which I rant about my life and hope secretly that none of my online friends will find me in real life and ask, "Are you sure you slipped on that banana peel?" and some journals exclusively for friends. There is something immensely different about writing for people than writing for yourself. It doesn't matter that only 1 or 2 friends are reading it and you are the only one refreshing the page to increase the counter hits - you have an audience. You have people (hopefully) reading what you write. You have eyes peering into your window. You are broadcasting bits of your life, and suddenly, that becomes a wholly terrifying prospect.

What I believe firmly is this, however. A blog, no matter how public, should first and foremost be for yourself. If I'm not writing the things that I'm interested in, if I'm not writing the things that amuse me, if I no longer get a high from updating my blog, then there is no point to writing it anymore. As a blog reader, I am most interested in reading entries that remain true to the blogger's personality. As a blog updater (calling myself a blogger right now sounds very pretentious) I only hope to remain true to myself.

Last but not least, if you are going to say, "Why the hell are you writing this entry it's not like your blog is read by millions of people all over the world!!" this entry is for myself. To continue writing about things the way they are, no matter how strange.

That is all. Bye-bye!

Review: Milo

Okay, so this morning we had McDonald's for breakfast and if you were living in Singapore like me you probably wouldn't care that your breakfast was done by a brand with as much health benefits as the fatty side of a chicken wing.

Anyway, so I was eating, and thinking, and eating, and thinking when this thought came to me:

Milo is really popular here.

There are other stuff, definitely, like Ovaltine, cereal and ginger drinks that I occasionally drink, but Milo has an appeal unlike any other brands. That is to say: everyone drinks Milo. Everyone loves Milo. By everyone I mean 'everyone I know and possibly the rest of Singapore' because goodness knows I'd like to meet someone with murderous tendencies towards the brand. o.0

This is what Milo looks like:

Hello, my middle name is I Steal Images from Wikipedia!

If you live in the US (and don't know what Milo is), it's basically the the equivalent of hot chocolate. I presume, as the closest I have to drinking hot chocolate was drinking Milo, and I probably couldn't tell the taste between the two even if I tried. (Hence, revealing my limited life experience and subtle brand loyalty.)

If Milo was a boyfriend he would be the scruffy boy-next-door with thick blame frames, studying economics at NUS while taking you out to Long John Silver's on Fridays, sometimes preoccupied if he'd get an A on that Sociology paper, but most of the time preoccupied with you. You know: safe, practical and cute. :]

Drinking warm Milo when I'm hungry makes me feel like I'm sitting in front of a fireplace on a snowy day. The fire is cackling, the snow is falling, and I'm on the couch with my hands shoved to the fireplace wishing fervently for someone to warm me up, and here comes this guy (who is faceless, but picture him cute, handsome, mysterious and MY BOYFRIEND.) Anyway, he moves up next to me, rubs my shoulders gently and says:

"A Milo for your thoughts?!"

Hahahaha! Okay, you guys, I apologise for destroying any faith you have left of romance. My point is this, however:

Milo is a drink that warms you both on the inside and outside. How? For starters, it's cheap and you can get it at any convenience store near your house. For seconds, it's readily available, and comes in all forms of packaging: cans, bottles, cartons even powder. That's like going to McDonald's when you're insanely thirsty --

Cashier: Small, medium or large?
You: Powder all the way, baby!

Thirdly, you can trust that it won't disappear from the market any time. :) The brand is one of those things (like um, SOAP. and sponge!) that have been so seamlessly integrated into society that you don't realise its existence anymore. I see it on billboards, I see it in someone's glass, and right now I'm seeing 3 packages of it right next to the fridge.

And the most amazing thing to possibly happen is the fact that YOU CAN EVEN BUY MILO WHEN UNDERAGE!

Can you picture what the world would be like if you have to show your IC to buy Milo:

You: Hi, can I have a can of Milo please?
Storeowner: You look young for your age.
You: Um, well you see--
Storeowner: IC please.
You: The thing is--
Storeowner: IC please.
You: I don't--
Storeowner: NO MORE MILO FOR YOU, BOY.


*roars* Blasphemy!!!

Yep.

Right now, I've just turned on this song from Romeo X Juliet the anime (which you should check out if you like awesome art and sappy plot.) and it's making me really emo, hence I will cut this entry short while I retreat into my personal journal for some reflective thinking and personal development.

That is all. And you know I never intended for this to be a review but here's what I got and there you go. Hope you've enjoyed it and remember to caress your Milo next time with utmost delicacy.

Just another public blog.

Hahaha.

Hahahahaha. Um.

This is my first entry on a public blog, with none of its squealing and CAPs. (!!!)

I like to think of having a public blog as going to the toilet with the door open. You think you are alone doing what you best love, but the truth is? 10,246 people are ambushed outside the door waiting for you. With digital cameras. Or so I'd like to believe. That 10,246 people are reading this.

If you are one of the 10,246 people, please say something.

This is a public blog and it's monumental. It's going down in history as another public blog. That's great. That's terrific.

Dear Google, I hope to God you do not cache this.

Dear Diary, I hope to God that I'll use you more.