RARE SUNDAY
I love my Sundays to be spent at home quietly. Away from the busy city streets, screaming children (when those two demons that my mom baby sat had gone home for the weekend), hand phone switched off, when I can have the entire living room to myself, minus the high volumn from the TV whenever my hard hearing dad is watching some low IQ local production on TV3. This type of Sunday is rare! (There are about a dozen of people staying in my house – so you can imagine the chaos and lack of privacy here. I am not sure of the numbers as my cousin brother and his girl friend are always on their nomadic instinct, going in and out of the house like a hotel).
Also, my aunt decided to whip up a new recipe every other Sundays for the family to try. So, today’s recipe is minced chicken with preservative egg. I tell you, I give this 9/10.
Taste as good as it looks
Went to the gym yesterday. Bumped into Kenny, my two-day complimentary personal trainer. Eh? I thought he said he won’t be in on weekends. Probably doing his own freelance on weekends (Read: Paying Client).
Ms Tau Foo Fah now is my official gym buddy! Both of us are excited about it and, we both have the same goal. To be able to fit in a nice evening gown for our best friend’s wedding end of this year. A friend of mine said, it is NOT YOUR wedding, why bother to put in so much effort? Come to think of it, yeah.. why? Well, who knows? We might meet our knight in shining armour during that wedding, and we can then plan our own wedding the following year? Hehe. Wishful thinking.
As we were on the treadmill, I glanced at the bald hunky guy’s reading on his machine next to mine. Woah.. effort level – 8, gradient – 5, speed – 6 miles per hour. Mine: effort level – 2, gradient – 2 and speed – 5 miles per hour. I am doing crap. Anyway, I can’t over exert myself after hibernating for as long as I can remember. Hope that I can increase my level of effort the next visit.
When I got out from the gym, again, I bumped into three ninjas at the entrance to the building. (Muslim ladies in Black Burqah). For a few quick seconds, I felt that Kuala Lumpur is being invaded by ninjas.
I went to another friend’s house for an annual pot luck party after that. It is just a gathering of a group of friends, ex colleagues for a hot meal. (There goes the 50 minutes effort on the bloody treadmill)
There is a wide range of people in our party, from the oldest, a 50++ years young tax manager, to the youngest, my ex boss’ 2 years old son, Baby Ryan. There were about 20 of us.
As usual, Jesse James*, (not her real name), the loud mouth, tall pretty babe, who works in a publishing company, kept on bragging about her skill in cooking the curry chicken. So, we entertained her and kept on repeating her words: “You know? I went to the market at 4 pm to pick this chicken from the market. Ask the seller to slaughter it on the spot, I must make sure that the chicken is fresh. You know?” I was so tempted to lie that I am a vegetarian just to spite her.
When all the older people had left for the night (Read: people with families), the younger ones stayed back for a poker-cum- alcohol game. Some of them (holier than thou) did not join us as they preferred to talk about their sad, celibate lives. Okay.. maybe they talked about something else.
Absolutely Fabulous
I sponsored a bottle of Absolut Mandarin. Nice soft hint of tangerine. The usual game of poker began on a relaxing mode ended up with someone getting pissed drunk and talking nonsense. Jess and I grabbed this opportunity to whisk out untold secrets from Leslie* (not his real name), Dennis’ bosom buddy, who is always with the wrong women at the wrong time for the wrong reasons.
Questions like: Are you still a virgin? How much money have you got in your bank now? Who are you currently seeing? Not another girl with a boyfriend, are you? Etc etc.
Yeah. We are a bunch of cruel bitches.
I was home by 3 am, and now, nursing the muscle ache owing to the 50 minutes on the treadmill and the rowing equipment and a slight hang over.
Also, my aunt decided to whip up a new recipe every other Sundays for the family to try. So, today’s recipe is minced chicken with preservative egg. I tell you, I give this 9/10.
Taste as good as it looks
Went to the gym yesterday. Bumped into Kenny, my two-day complimentary personal trainer. Eh? I thought he said he won’t be in on weekends. Probably doing his own freelance on weekends (Read: Paying Client).
Ms Tau Foo Fah now is my official gym buddy! Both of us are excited about it and, we both have the same goal. To be able to fit in a nice evening gown for our best friend’s wedding end of this year. A friend of mine said, it is NOT YOUR wedding, why bother to put in so much effort? Come to think of it, yeah.. why? Well, who knows? We might meet our knight in shining armour during that wedding, and we can then plan our own wedding the following year? Hehe. Wishful thinking.
As we were on the treadmill, I glanced at the bald hunky guy’s reading on his machine next to mine. Woah.. effort level – 8, gradient – 5, speed – 6 miles per hour. Mine: effort level – 2, gradient – 2 and speed – 5 miles per hour. I am doing crap. Anyway, I can’t over exert myself after hibernating for as long as I can remember. Hope that I can increase my level of effort the next visit.
When I got out from the gym, again, I bumped into three ninjas at the entrance to the building. (Muslim ladies in Black Burqah). For a few quick seconds, I felt that Kuala Lumpur is being invaded by ninjas.
I went to another friend’s house for an annual pot luck party after that. It is just a gathering of a group of friends, ex colleagues for a hot meal. (There goes the 50 minutes effort on the bloody treadmill)
There is a wide range of people in our party, from the oldest, a 50++ years young tax manager, to the youngest, my ex boss’ 2 years old son, Baby Ryan. There were about 20 of us.
As usual, Jesse James*, (not her real name), the loud mouth, tall pretty babe, who works in a publishing company, kept on bragging about her skill in cooking the curry chicken. So, we entertained her and kept on repeating her words: “You know? I went to the market at 4 pm to pick this chicken from the market. Ask the seller to slaughter it on the spot, I must make sure that the chicken is fresh. You know?” I was so tempted to lie that I am a vegetarian just to spite her.
When all the older people had left for the night (Read: people with families), the younger ones stayed back for a poker-cum- alcohol game. Some of them (holier than thou) did not join us as they preferred to talk about their sad, celibate lives. Okay.. maybe they talked about something else.
Absolutely Fabulous
I sponsored a bottle of Absolut Mandarin. Nice soft hint of tangerine. The usual game of poker began on a relaxing mode ended up with someone getting pissed drunk and talking nonsense. Jess and I grabbed this opportunity to whisk out untold secrets from Leslie* (not his real name), Dennis’ bosom buddy, who is always with the wrong women at the wrong time for the wrong reasons.
Questions like: Are you still a virgin? How much money have you got in your bank now? Who are you currently seeing? Not another girl with a boyfriend, are you? Etc etc.
Yeah. We are a bunch of cruel bitches.
I was home by 3 am, and now, nursing the muscle ache owing to the 50 minutes on the treadmill and the rowing equipment and a slight hang over.
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