Dry Eyes and Coloured Walls

Today, I got my specs back from the optshop. Like finally!

The weekend spent wearing contacts was a bit dreary. I suppose I'm not too used to wearing contacts lah, huh. My eyes got quite dry and uncomfortable. And it definitely felt like I got debris stuck in my eye. It was a relief when I could finally take my contacts off.

The uncle from the optshop asked if I'd like to keep the old lens, then proceeded to take the damaged lens out from a small paper package. I took a close look at the damage and said, Of course, I want to keep lah! For memory's sake.

Furthermore, haven't I said that those were fucking expensive UV- and screen-glare- proof lens? Might as well just keep it lah. Now I've got two pieces of 'flawed glass' (remember? The title of the book that I read).

Anyways, I still wanna talk about M1. The IDD commercial on TV!

"Sing... Gah.... Pore... Is that a suburb? Another country?! EH! Mumbai lah! INDIA!!!"



Wah lau! It's the best can? Especially when the guy does that hand-circling thing! I find that uber cool! The way he cups his hands and I especially love how the thumb is positioned!

Ahh... I had some good laughs watching it. It's kinda the most interesting thing on TV recently. Lotsa very lame programmes that are boring.

Anyways, I'm not too big a youtuber, but decided to youtube the IDD commercial and it came up in a fraction of a second. That's PRETTY amazing. Nothing escapes Youtube, I suppose...

So, yesterday, I was trodding along Beach Road, near Tan Quee Lan Street, when I was approached by a Muslim woman with her baby. She said she wanted to but milk powder for the baby, but didn't have money, so she is asking for donations. "You think you can help?" she requested.

I looked down at her and took 5 bucks from my wallet and gave it to her lor. I couldn't bring myself to say no. However, to those people selling pens at 2 bucks under some ex-offenders/ex-convicts job creation programme at Orchard Control Station, I say no to them very firmly.

Muslim mother and baby is my second encounter of people asking for money. The first encounter occured nearer to the DHL Balloon. Same area, mind you.

It was early morning and an Indian vagrant-looking, dishevelled man asked me for money to buy food because he got no money. I cannot remember his story, but he definitely had chewed on betel leaves, making him look like a blood-thirsty vampire. Of course, I gave hiim some money too.

Today at work:

Well, it was okay. Time passed a tad slow. But thank goodness YanSheng was on duty.

Remember what I said about the workplace being a massive cauldron? Well, a cauldron NEEDS stirring, and who better to mix it all up with a wooden spoon(*wink wink YanSheng*) than YANSHENG?!

*wink wink Leila, Jana, Billy and the mirror*

He and his interminable spread of brews... But some of the things he put ever-so-bluntly, fortunately or unfortunately, hold a certain amount of truth.

Anyways, he was asking me for advice on home decorating and space layout because he's thinking of implementing some changes to his home. Good timing is all I can say.

Because I, too, have been thinking of how I can make my home a more functional and aethetically pleasing place to live and work in. I went down to IKEA some time back to get inspired. I'm subconsciously drawn to Scandinivian/Nordic design, Dr Denim Jeansmakers included.

So at work today, we were just talking about what could be done to his room and all. Then he whipped out the IKEA '08 catalogue. Mufid saw the catalogue or something, then came up to me, asking me for advice on wall colour.

DUH, black of course! Nothing's hotter and cooler than black walls okay! I love myself a black room! But that's for another life...

I fucking hate public housing. There's no 'culture' in living in public housing. There is no 'art' in it. It's something that most of us are coerced into accepting. Yet there's nothing much that we can do about it.

My mind goes wild thinking about how I can make my living space as functional as possible, yet maintaining a bloody chio look. But then ar, no money ar...

But let's just talk about wall colours okay? I have THE most fantastic wall colour at home: WHITE.

Many a time, my mother would talk about giving the house a fresh coat of paint. I hate discussing colour palettes with her. Everything is either too 'heaty', 'gloomy', or 'hot'. Apparently a mild case of chromophobia.

And the 'colour' she'll EVENTUALLY settle with is—wait for it—WHITE!

I love white, I love black, and everything in between. But white walls just don't do for me.