Extra Pocket Money

I am the epitome of a broke college student.

I am employed in a job which compensates me for free board.

And most recently, I am considering being one of those medical test bunnies! Yup! I called one of those ambiguous phone numbers about a research project regarding bio-cycles of women.

Are you a woman? Check.
Not on medication or oral contraceptives? Check.
Any history of STDs? No S, how to TD? Check.
Any questions? No.

I called back an hour later though.
"You're not going to inject me with hormones, are you? Or err...do weird stuff to me?"
"No."
Pause. "Oh, cool, OK."

If it pays me X dollars, why not? We'll see how it goes. I might still freak out. Hey, looks like I'm two steps away from selling my eggs to barren couples. If you're interested in helping out with the pilot program, call (716)MEL-EGGS.

Cooking Lessons

I made soup with my nifty crockpot yesterday. A traditional family recipe, ABC tong, literally translated to ABC soup. I don't know why it's named that, there aren't any alphabets floating in it. The only thing in the ingredients I can think of that associates with the name is carrot.

C for carrot. But anyhoos...

Other than that, there are potatoes, tomatoes, onions and meat in it, all boiled together into a delicious wholesome soup. I hate onions though. I wasn't in the mood for peeling and cutting onions either, so I came up with a brilliant solution of not putting onions in my ABC tong. I never eat them anyways.

Fast forward to a day later, me ladling out my soup in a bowl, I discovered to my dismay that the soup lacked a little ooomph. ONIONS.

So here folks, is a cooking lesson. There are things in life which you might not like, but they do add up to the ooomph in our life. Ain't that amazing?!?

So to all the onions in my life, thank you from the bottom of my heart. But I still hate you.

Ctrl+Z

Perhaps, this is how Pandora felt. And just like the proverbial fruit in the Garden of Eden, taking a bite of it, there is no turning back. My life needs to be piloted with a keyboard equipped with a Ctrl+Z button.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost is mocking me.

UNDO UNDO UNDO!
but cannot.

Empat Sekawan

Text messages. Phone calls. Plans are ready. 7.30pm.

It's just like Sex and the City. Minus the sex perhaps. And in a different city. No Sex and a Different City. Just like that. Coffee at the usual joint, four girls pondering over what suprises life has in store around the bend. More questions than answers. More laughter than questions.

From juvenile schoolgirls in turquoise pinafores to shoe-crazy not-girls-not-yet-women. Yes, we've evolved! Only to know that there's so much more to know. But there's always still time to spend an hour or two sitting in a circle with four mugs of coffee, the constant witness to Empat Sekawan.

Take That

Do you ever get those moments, when you have the wittiest cleverest retort, only perhaps just too late. Here is mine.

Miles up in the air, my airplane seat comfortably (as it can be) reclined as far down as it an airplane seat can recline, I was drifting slowly but surely into some semblance of sleep when. . . I felt the thud-thud-thud of tiny kiddy feet kicking my seat. Breathe, breathe. I turn back, muster a smile, and oh-so-nicely say,

"Your son..oops...daughter (guilty in the charge of gender stereotyping) is kicking my chair."

Apologies accepted. Okay. Cool. But this little spawn of the devil imp keeps on thud-thud-thud my chair. thud-thud-thud. Okay Cool. Tell the mum again, albeit a little more harshly. Thud-thud-thud continues. All the way from Tokyo to Kuala Lumpur.

OKAY. If that devil-imp ever reads my blog, or her mum, here's to wishing I threw my hot green tea on your lap, screamed and created a hullabaloo because NOBODY should ever have to put up with a kid going thud-thud-thud on an airplane. The next kid who does that to me, WOE ON YOU.