Martinis don't mix with mantras

On the up: Being busy
On the down: Trying to be too busy

I've done this pretty crazy thing of pledging to recite 50k mantras which is near impossible for the so-not-praying kind of person I am. But well, it's something good - the added bonus of meditation attempts that come along with it can't be half bad.

Then again, the mantra ain't just, you know, om ah hum. It's five lines long which feels SO much longer and I have the attention span of a fish, so it's hard.

Anyway, there are these recitation sessions on Saturday night that go on until crazy hours in the morning. I ain't that hard core but I like to pretend that I'm very ISG by going a few hours.

Last night, I thought it would be very clever to split my evening between FUNFUNFUN in town and reciting mantras. How SO NOT clever.

Oh but wait, backtrack even more. I decided to be healthy and ate only a bit of sushi for dinner before going out.

A was all, "You're going to need more than that if you're going drinking." (So nice, got bf who sends me off drinking and then some more prepares my stomach lining beforehand).

I was like, yah whatever. Full enough liao. Which was real dumb because the first martini shot straight to the head and made me feel sick.

Then I had another martini and felt even more sick, especially since it was a vanilla flavoured one. bleaarrggghhh

The nice alcohol toxin thingies went straight down the the leggy legs (which have been giving trouble forever) and made them twang all over the place. Didn't help that I decided to wear high heels, knowing full well how much they strain the legs. Silly.

Eventually, after I'd had enough, I packed myself off to mantras and sat there feeling sick the whole time: the leggy legs were hurting, I was feeling that funny chill from when alcohol fucks with the system, and I was damn hungry.

How lah, to meditation when you're cold and hungry? I am so not going to be a nun in this life.

So I ran off to eat a burger at the mamak. So shameless.


The girly night was so so much fun though. Haven't been daft like that in ages. Some random guy came up and said, "Oh you're a familiar face! Hello!" and turns out he works there or something.

Then I figure out I'd also seen him in at the gym and another restaurant within the space of less than 2 years, so either he's getting sacked an awful lot or he's multi-jobbing around the whole city. Strange, why is it he turns up everywhere I end up going to? Creepy.

Anyway, got cute photos of the girly girls - they'll go up another day when I can be arsed.

Dolly fights with a know-it-all

On the up: Feedback for articles
On the down: Bitchy know-it-alls

I'm back after a spell of feeling like the sky is falling down! the sky is falling down!

I had a nice lovely happy article out on Sunday about a peace conference I attended. Lovely lovely.

Then yesterday this lady rings me up all "rah rah rah I am Bridget Menezes and I read your article about peace."

Blur me is like, "Sorry, where are you from again?" trying to be polite a bit lah.

Apparently she's some big shot lah, and I just spat all over her shoes.

So she's all like, "I'm Bridgeeeeeeeeeeeeeet MooMoo, I write for NST, I do this-and-this on TV2, I do that-and-that on NTV, I do this, I do that, I write for this, I present on this, I have this, I have that AND I've written my own book which has become a bestseller....." She went on and on and on about all the peace-related work she does in local media.

And then, "And I do all this FOR FREEEEEE you know."

*gag* the minute somebody boasts that they're doing something for free, it instantly stops being sincere.

Then she proceeded to tell me what was missing in my article. And then went on to tell me her theories about finding inner peace.

At first naive, dumb, trusting, silly me was all "Oh wow, she wants to have a cool discussion with me" and I got all happy cos the stuff she was talking about matched up with Dharma stuff.

Then she wanted me to "spread the message" about her techniques for inner peace.

I told her I do some work for Dharma and they have the same message and even though it's based on Buddhis teachings the emphasis is NOT on religion.

She barked down the phone, "Yes, but it's NOT about religion you know. It's about SPIRITUALITY."

Like, gee, didn't I just say that?

Anyway she went on and on and on and on about how to find inner peace as if she was the only person in the world who had thought of that and as if her way was the most special way.

So I said again, "Well actually, I am already doing quite a lot of similar stuff with my Dharma work."

She said, not without an edge to her voice, "Well, WHY didn't you put that into your article then?"

I didn't because I didn't want my article to be preachy. And it was supposed to be an overview and introduction to conference, not a whole tract on how to rediscover your soul. So I told her that.

Bridgeeeeet was adamant. "Yes, but PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW."

So I screeched, "Look, I only had 800 words! How much could I possibly write?"

Stupid c**t. I couldnt' believe I was wasting valuable time talking to someone who rang up to question why I did what I did in my article. You so clever, you write lah. Write another best selling novel lah.

Some people just think far too highly about themselves.

Call yourself big ass peace worker, and then ring up people to insist they should have done things your way.

Gee, that's sooooooooo spiritual of you, Bridget.

At least I don't pretend I'm a big shot peace person (cos I know I ain't!). I just do the work I gotta do and I sure as hell don't go around proclaiming I'm a bestselling novelist and telling complete strangers how to live.

Wifey Dolly

On the up: Relationships
On the down: Responsibility

Uh oh. This is the point in the relationship where it starts to get wifey. Very scary. *runs away*

First of all: talking to interior designers about the apartment, and making decisions about things like kitchen cupboard finishings and tiles. Screams domestication? I didn't know household decisions could be so hard.

And then now A's colleague has his girlfriend up in KL visiting. So I have to do the dutiful other-half thing and take her out for the day.

I said to A: "Errr it's all very wifey."

"You mean, the thing about me giving you a little errand thing to do?"

"No, the whole me having to take out your colleague's girlfriend thing, and doing that wifey thing where we both hang out together for the day."

He agreed. "Oh yah, I know what you mean. Haha."

But, um, that doesn't mean I get out of it. I still gotta play Stepford wife on Thursday. Evil me is going to take her to KLCC and go off halfway for a work meeting. Compromise, mah.

Man, I am so not cut out for this domestic shit.

Birthday Dolly

On the up: Parties
On the down: Organising them

Hot damn! I'm getting old! 25 in less than a month :)

Before I say any more... I found THIS CUPCAKE MADNESS and all my innards are jumping around in total excitement. I haven't been this excited since I was 6.

Have to have a minimum order of 50 so I want to have a birthday party just so I can order heaps of cakes and dot them around the whole house.

But aiyo, just thinking of organising it is damn sian man. The funny thing is I have all these groups of friends but none of them know the others so it'll end up being one of those parties where everyone just sits in their own groups and it's all very awkward and I spend the whole night feeling guilty that I didn't get to hang out enough with each group.

Then organising the drinks and the food

And the music.

And trying not to piss the very posh neighbours off.

Some more, got people I don't want to invite but HAVE TO - see, even among friends got politics.

*sigh* Just thinking about it scares me.

BUT I LOVE PARTIES. And I want those cupcakes.

So hooooooow?

Damnit maybe just order 50 and eat them all myself.

Lesbian Dolly

On the up: Sexuality - anything goes!
On the down: Being wrongly identified?

It seems everyone thinks I'm a lesbian when they first meet me.

Bibi thought I was gay.
Joanne Kam Po Po who I have never met thought I was gay.
Sharon and Susan thought I was gay.
Richard thought I was gay.
Shirley's ex thought I was gay.

Used to it liao.

But it's all still funny because anyone who knows me knows I spent a ridiculous amount of time being obsessed with boys - straight ones, gay ones, old ones, young ones, celebrity ones, normal ones, ugly ones, cute ones.

Then today, one of Shirley's friends who I've only met once sent an SMS.

"What you up to tonight? Want to meet up!?"

I was like who? what the fuck? I replied, "Sorry cannot lah. Am going out tonight with my bf."

He sent back a text, "LOL I thought you were gay!"

And then another text with just a smiley.


A and I went to Tiffin Bay after dinner to salivate over cakes (well he ate one, I could only salivate while my liver thanked me for being clean and clear).

A said, "Errr, it's only women and gay men who hang out here right?"

"Yah." What's new lah, I thought, I only ever hang out in gay joints or girly places... errrr oh yah, maybe that's why the confusion.

Later, I realised I was wearing my butch outfit - tatty jeans and the baggiest top I own, which makes my arms look huge and makes me look like one of those particularly scary lesbians that drive a big bike and terrorise small boys.

"You know," I said, "Since I look like a lesbian, and since most people who hang out here are gay, people will probably just assume you're gay too."

Haha. Poor A. Ends up being thought of as gay thanks to me. Better start hanging out with straight men and growing out my hair and wearing tops with flowery prints.

But eeeewwwwww! What's the fun in that?

Fashion Dolly

On the up: Fashion shows
On the down: Malaysian celebs

From corporate boring yawn-yawns, to pretentious fashion ladidas. What a week.

Got sent to my first fashion show launchy thing yesterday. Somehow I've managed to avoid having to go until now but there wasn't anyone else to go this time so I had to.

It was some sort of fancy do at Maison, which I'd never been to before because I'm antisocial and boring like that. It's pretty but too damn claustrophobic and everything looks so squishy. Even going in the entrance feels like you're being squeezed out of someone's cervix.

Well well, despite being a superficial airhead, I actually can't bear these sorts of air-kissing hee-haw doo-dahs. Everybody looks the same, they're all throwing these fakey loud kisses and you have to pretend that you actually are happy to see the PR - and because I'm such an honest sort of girl *blink*, it's hard to pretend like I care.

I'd been sent especially to celeb-spot to get pix for our magazine.... bit of a problem since I wouldn't know a local celeb if one came up and poked me in the eye. Anyway, that's what PRs are for - to send you the photos you need afterwards.

Anyway it felt like it should have been a glam glam sort of affair and I was thinking of how many other people in their boring little office jobs would like my job but somehow it

It all just feels like we're trying way too hard to be New York and London, when really we're just ending up with a really watered-down version.

Damnit, even the models are all white and blonde some more. Can't even be original enough to find Asian models. Choy. Ironic coz apparently the selling point of these products were that they're tailored specially for Asian women. So d'oh - why would we want to see them on 6foot3 Slovakian women?

Then came the embarrassingly cringe-worthy moment of bringing the handful of local celebs up on stage.

Felt damn sad for them lah. The only people cheering for them were err.... themselves. I looked around and everyone else had this fed-up hurry-the-fuck-up-so-I-can-go-home look on their face. Including me of course.

So they all go up and had their little 2 minutes of the limelight, where they said things to try to be funny and charismatic and poor things, just weren't. Why is it that everything Serena C says tries to be funny, but nothing she says actually is?!

... which sort of seems to be the case with almost all celebs:


(Except maybe flyfm's Jivan and flyguy - so bad to have to say this, but the women are just damn stoopid.)

I couldn't bear it anymore so left halfway and got stuck in the biggest godawful traffic jam, ironically because I was trying to take a shortcut.

See, this is what happens when you don't work office hours and don't work in town - you totally forget that traffic jams exist.

Today, my ed is all "Did you have fun?"

And I'm, "Errr no, actually I couldn't wait to leave."

She's like, "That's weird, I thought you would like those things because you're so fashionable."

Hahahahahaha. I'm always the person in these events whose standing on the side, wearing what nobody else in the room would think of wearing and willing the event to finish.

See, antisocial. Hehe

Corporate Dolly

On the up: Being gila
On the down: Being straight-laced

My father barged into my room yesterday morning and I could hear him talking on the phone, "Wait wait. You talk to my daughter - she can help you!"

And then thrust his mobile phone at me. "My friend needs some help with some writing. You talk to him see if you can help."

So turns out I have to go to some press briefing for some corporate thing. Aiyo so bloody boring. I try to squirm out of it by saying, "But but but I'm a freelance writer, so I can't really make decisions about what articles go in or not."

He said, "Never mind! You just come anyway."

I had to say yes because the father is standing right next to me.

When I hung up he said, "Ah good lah, good! Help my friend lah."

So today I had to trek all the way to Subang Sheraton for a press briefing about project managers.

Me? Sitting in a little cold drafty room listening to the advantages of getting professional certification as a project manager.

Anyway, I put in some effort and even asked questions to look intelligent. But it got tiresome really quickly. At one points there was a guy talking about how many hits they had on their website.


Damn me if I know anything about project management. I can't even manage my own one-man projects properly. I find it really hard to hide my boredom so was yawning all over the place and staring at the ceiling.
And you know lah these corporate types. All look like they were cut out from a block of stone. No expression, all look very bored even when they're excited about something (like project managers), all wear grey.
See, that's why the world needs fashion writers and gila people to balance it out. Otherwise we'd all be scaling the walls.

Dolly overeats

On the up: Binges
On the down: Diets

I know it is a cardinal rule not to talk about weight and diets and fat in blogs. Everybody's OTTd on that but tough.

There is a big countdown in my head for when I'm going to start the liver cleansing diet. I even went to the supermarket and stocked up on bags of celery and parsely today (bleaaaargh). A whole trolley full of healthy food!

Then I went out to lunch and gorged myself stupid on cream. The point is to eat whatever I can in this last weekend before I go on the flaxseed-coriander-gratedcarrot diet. So, I went silly on
chicken liver (butter, cream, cholestrol)
creaaaaaaamy pasta (butter, cream, cholestrol)
Pavlova (cream cream cream)

I'm feeling quite sick and thick now.

Pot luck party tomorrow for 12. More eating! Hurray. Last chances before (a) dropping dead of a cardiac arrest or (b) turning into an organic healthy lemon.


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