the entry about something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue

all ye commitment-phobes and marriage-eschewers, be on the qui vive. if in any case you belong to this bracket(s), it's better to skedaddle off this entry. otherwise, fashion yourself under the mistletoe, for t'is the season to tie the knot.

it couldn't be farther from the truth in the case of my beloved cousin, jin, who becomes husband and wife in legal ceremony with her beau of 12 years. 12 years. 12 freaking years... that's longer than all the relationships combined i've endured in my entire life. now that's what i call fidelity.

let me digress a little first with some pictures of my nephew declan with the virtuosity of a winsome disposition, in preps for the wedding. obviously, bow-ties and pjs don't go hand in hand; it's just a dress rehearsal.

someone's got the morning grumps

finally letting up a little

now, on to the espousal proper. in the line of traditional chinese marriages, there's the usual brouhaha about collecting an auspicious red packet from the groom by the bridesmaid before being let into the bride's house, tea ceremony for the elders, and, well ... you know the routine. here's a pic of the bride, my cousin, doing her cheesy pose for the cam.

butterflies in the stomach? fret not. just wear a veil.

from left to right: mom, cousin jin, major celeb (yours truly), and groom isaac

the twin effect? not exactly. my elder but more handsome brother.

me twenty years down the road: my old man and i.

the evening soiree was held at sentosa cove's one degree fifteen. after a change of attire, fifteen glasses of chardonnay, and tons of handshakes with random inconsequential guests, i was beginning to warm up to the initially blasé event. anyone with a good liquor threshold should have joined me in my alcohol romp.

words of blessings written on the stones for the newlyweds.

cousin jin in her ravishing cheongsam, and me in my pseudo-tux outfit.

bow-tie meets bow-tie

chic sis-in-law, me, and my brother. judging from who's holding onto the handbag, it's a telling sign who wears the pants in the household. just kidding.. not!

a candid pic of declan with his bedroom eyes, looking all sorts of hilarious.

jin thinking: get on with the speech already...

anyone recalls the mocca advertisement? remember the muscled guy who beckons you to check out his pipes whilst flexing his bulging biceps? look below, it's mr. mocca!

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the entry marches on

reservist has loomed on me; doomsday. every other day for four straight weeks, i am sent to the cursed parade square at safti military instituate, marching on for endless hours under the sweltering sun, with "dig in", "watch your front"-esque commands constantly barked at us by the paunchy regiment sergeant major wielding his willowy peystick (the juxtaposition of it all).

it's all in a day's work (well, 15 to be exact, including the rehearsals i have to sit through) for the saf day parade, a "highlight in the military calendar and serves as a reminder of the importance of national defence". bah, i say. bs! highlight this though: the numerous fainting spells spotted in the regiment wings. soldiers were falling out of the parade rehearsals, both young and curmudgeonly, dropping like flies due to the immense heat, no thanks to the afternoon sun. the fool that i am, refused to and soldiered on, through gritting teeth, and thus endured a 12-hour march that starts from 7 every morn'. hopefully i won't pass out due to over-exhaustion or some of my neighbouring comrade's feta-smelling body odour. hence, this is a plea from those who, like me, have perfectly functioning olfactory systems, to those who exacerbates the pungent air situation: shove a sweat stick under those pits!

when this entire pervy ordeal has been squared away, i vow never to don on the uniform ever. all i need now is a jolly-good excuse that could extricate me from the yearly callbacks. think, des, think!

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the entry after midnight

due to the lack of sleeping pills, i am back vegetating in front of my apple monitor with eyes wide open. i guess i will just have to rely on the wonders of staying awake in the wee hours of the morning till day breaks and a complete wave of lethargy overwhelms me before i could hit the sack. i always believed it to be a psychological thing and i could always cajole myself into slumber-land by whipping up "happy thoughts, nice things" in my head or counting sheep. or making myself a mug of frothy warm milk. or reading a book till my eyes glaze over because of the minute font size. or anything else. none of these prescribed methods work. i still need my pills!!

on a brighter note, i am starting to get back into the throes of work. witnessing how my bank account has shriveled to a measly four-figure sum is an apparent sign that i have been neglecting bringing in the dough. i am hoping my hard work will garner me some much needed cash to tide over this cash-strapped period. someone, anyone, break me a leg.

this is just random, but the word shriveled just reminded me of my junior college days. then, we had this ghastly teacher who taught us english and she was the epitome of what a loathsome creature a person could be. anyhoos, my friend and i were thinking of a word or two to succinctly describe her. both of us conjured up "shriveled prune" at the same time, spot on. it would be mere coincidence to say one single word together but to actually mouth two different words at the same time, well, let's just say that great minds think alike.

i bought this acrylic tumbler remake of a plastic disposable on a whim and little did i know that there was a boon that came along with the price tag. apparently, everytime you use the tumbler for your next order of espresso/machiatto/latte/americano/(the list could go on, but you get my drift) at starbucks, you get a fifty-cent rebate. i was tantalized and gratified. ain't shopping just great with the perks?!

save the earth & save some moolah at the same time

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the entry about another unhitching post

oh how have we advanced in terms of theatrical technology. first there was thx, then we moved onto dolby stereo, and now we herald the quantum leap into digital 3d. conversely, megan fox (hot female lead in transformers and the upcoming transformers 2: revenge of the fallen) has degenerated and ditched her squeaky-clean image and opted for a midriff-baring, tattered denim shorts et al nympho in her latest movie outing. nevertheless, she's smoking!!!

my grey matter is disintegrating by the minute. i am practically talking about humdrum matters in life that don't even matter to me at all.

on another note, i managed to catch sam raimi's drag me to hell. if you are prepared for a edge-of-the seat, nail-biting experience, do watch out for this premise. it's a campy hell of a scary ride that will have you jumping from your seat for one minute, and giggling at the over-the-top gore the next ,which sam is a maestro at. i enjoyed it so much i ended up bunking with my maid just to quell over the horror that still inhibited me very much so after watching it. so much for machismo.

god forgive me.

meanwhile, being a technophile, whom are basically a breed of decidedly whimsical people when it comes to gadgetry, i am beginning to scour the market for the latest handphone, given that the previous phone i had just procured, lg prada ii, just two months ago has failed to live up to its expectations of a pricey tag and has the technological speed of a 286 processor. i am looking forward to the new release of iphone 3rd generation, which spots a gamut of different colors, or the blackberry thunder touchscreen. i am torn between these two. any advice anyone?

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the entry about eating back my own words

i know i am capricious and all, and i did mention about it being redundant and verbose a couple entries ago, but, the question of the day is: "have you twittered yet?"

follow me at http://www.twitter.com/iruffkookydough already. 'nuff said.

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