Things I want to do with you


Oh, the things I wanna do with you!

Hey there, beautiful. What’s it like in New York City? (For some reason, this song popped into my head out of nowhere.)

I want to sit in a cozy cafe with you and share our life stories, plus all the interesting and funny stuff we saw while drinking our favourite coffees together. Milk and no sugar for me, please.

Let’s take silly pictures and videos in bed making funny faces, Voldermort noses and crazy poses. And watch movie marathons on weekday afternoons so we can laugh ourselves silly while eating the food we sneak into the cinema. Maybe we can bring a small bottle of muscato to share too.

We can go for long walks in a beautiful park or on the beach. And play on the swings if they have and record videos of us laughing till our tummies ache and we can’t breathe. Maybe even bring the dogs along and have a picnic.

I want to play “name that 80s/90s song” game with you, go to the karaoke bar and let you cringe at me singing out of tune, and dance along to music videos with you. I want to hear all the latest songs you have been listening to and watch you hum their nice tunes.

We can hold hands while we sleep, wake up to see the sunrise and find a lovely spot to watch the sun set. Just like in a private villa. Just me and you.

I want to travel to new places with you so we can explore new cultures, taste new cuisine and eat hotel breakfast together. Imagine all the exciting adventures out there waiting for us.

Best of all, I want to do everything on the list with you over and over again. Because…

‘They click in ways even they can’t pinpoint. But from the moment they meet, they know there is something special there.’

Ever felt like that about someone? That’s how you’d feel if you knew me because you won’t be able to get me out of your head. Haha!


I woke up wanting to kiss you

I do. I really do. Do you?

Your soft pink lips. I miss them. With you I want to live. In between your heart and soul, I rest with you.

I wake up with a longing to feel you in my arms. Every day.

*The above is an artwork by British artist Tracey Emin in 2010. It was featured at an exhibition by neonist Kerry Ryan and artist Declan McMullan, curators and producers of 80 + Artists 100 + hours. Emin has been one of my favourite Brit artists ( Sarah Lucas, Damien Hirst, Gilbert & George are my other favourites if you’re keen to know) ever since I saw her work Everyone I Have Ever Slept With 1963–1995, a tent appliquéd with names, and My Bed — an installation of her own unmade dirty bed.

I met Emin once at a book signing for Strangeland (2005), her long-awaited memoir, and she was a bit snarky and intimidating to talk to. It was as though she was in a rush and had somewhere else better to be. I felt cowed and still do whenever I think of the moment I asked her to sign my copy. I still have the book neatly stacked in between my Terry Pratchett novels. But I have always thought she was an extremely intelligent, thoughtful person when I started reading her columns in Independent in 2005. So I guess I am pleased to have met Emin at least once in my life. She inspires me to appreciate art installations more.


There is an itch in my mind

There is an itch in my mind I can’t effing scratch and it’s annoying me! It’s times like this I honestly wish I could be less rational. Well, like really really selective times when the choices you make could be the difference between a potentially fun time and an itchy mind that can’t go to bed. Sigh. Who’d have thought practicality would be the death of me.

I have to stop thinking too much. Oh, I should probably ditch making mental pros and cons lists as well. But back to my main point, this itch. The cold shower earlier didn’t help. My mind keeps racing to and fro. Then I remembered this.

“As long as you have these wants, this habit of wanting something, especially wanting someone or something to make you happy. Paradoxically, this is a sure way to make yourself miserable,” says Mooji.

So technically speaking, my irrational desire is driving me crazy because I’m allowing it to itch like hell and all I want to do is scratch this itch.

“As long as you have a desire, you are being tormented by this desire. Why? Because you don’t get it, you are miserable. All your energy is waiting and trying to fulfil your desire.” says Mooji.

There, I have foretold this way before. I even gave a perfect analogy for those who are still scratching their heads over this blog post:

Suppose you have always wanted this person, you want her so bad that you think she would make you happy, so as long as you want her, a relationship with her, you are never really available for anything else. Every time, you are talking, it is just this want for her. Your mind is focused on satisfying your desire but there is no joy in wanting this person. You feel if you get her, you would be so happy but there is no happiness in this.

So what’s next? Remove the desire and the itch would stop. This should be easy. Ahem. But pray for me anyway. Thanks.


Things I like more than I realise No2: Peaches

Juicy, tender and full of natural sweetness, I am talking about the fruit, not the raunchy singer whom I do sometimes enjoy when I am feeling the naughties. Right, back to the best edible gift Mother Nature has given us. The minute I bit into the chilled fruit, I felt like I was transported to a fluffly breezy world where I was drinking a nice long iced drink made out of 100% peaches.

So good, you have to eat it again

So good, you have to eat it again

Photo credits: Wikipedia


Midweek beer is all sorts of aces

I am looking at making Midweek Beer a compulsory afterwork tradition. Honestly, if you are a corporate rat like I am, it’s a must to celebrate this midweek high. After all, it is an achievement of some sort to get through Monday and Tuesday unscatched.

Of course, go mental and have your ice cold Midweek Beer with crispy pork knuckle on the side. Absolutely brilliant.

Never has pig look so fine

Never has pig look so fine


I need more Dirty Sexy Money!

I am serious. Having watched the season finale of this cancelled show means the cliff-hanging climax will be a very very lasting one for me. A network which create fantasies using tv as a medium for common folk should never be allowed to taunt people like that. Travesty. “HOW DO YOU LIVE WITH YOURSELF?”

Where on earth am I supposed to get the required dose of this scandalous insane somewhat morally corrupt richest family in New York now?

And, you should be a DSM druggie too because the sextape scene below says so.


Monday’s Constant Craving

[imagine a lovely basket of hot golden fries here]

I want french fries so bad. I am willing to trade babies for them.

All major potato wedges accepted here too.

Oh, how to tell if the recession is worsening No. 276 – companies are giving out calendars as corporate gifts instead of daily planners.


Monday’s Jagabee Jingle

Jagabee awaits visit from me

Today, Imaginarator is feeling all sort of iffy whiffy what with the lack of three proper meals a day since 1993 when Kate Moss ushered in the waif look with a highly publicised nude ad campaign for Calvin Klein. Awestruck young Imaginarator has been trying to attain the perfect heroin chic look since then. That is until bloody effing Edward Cullen and his “impossibly beautiful” pale marble skin and dark purplish eye shadows came along. Harumph!

It’s ok! Imaginarator will turn to the comforting oily arms of fried chicken to sooth its permanently hungry since 1993 soul. Except the last fried chicken has been eaten by Imaginarator’s annoying brother or sister.

Poor Imaginarator is now fantasising about the rows of Jagabee, tucked safely behind the closed shutters of the supermarket. These Jagabee potato bits look like French Fries, feel like crispy French Fries and taste like French Fries. The Jagabee is everything Imaginarator wants in an alpha French Fry.

Of course, no shops are open now to satisfy this craving. Which means Imaginarator can wave bye bye to its precious sleep. And a grouchy Imaginarator out on the internets is not a pretty sight. You’ve been warned.

Feel free to leave your own Jagabee love or any other cravings in the comments below