How to Climb a Sand Dune: A Chronology

4:27pm
Drive across the steppes, alongside sand dunes. Unimpressed as dunes not very high. Have seen higher ones in Singapore's sand depository.

4:42pm
Arrive at base of dune. Put on two jackets, scarf, hat and sunglasses as want to be well-protected against sand and wind. Pleased with self re level of foresight and preparation.

4:48pm
Decide that this is like walking on the beach.

4:50pm
Degree of incline changing. A bit tougher now.

4:55pm
Scattering of plants peter out so no footholds left. Guide gives up and waves me on.

5:02pm
Crisis! Slip and fall almost on top of dead camel.

5:15pm
A flash of inspiration. Must be strategic in tackling this. Decide to climb in a zig-zag fashion.

5:20pm
Realise my zig is almost parallel to my zag. 

5:23pm
Thighs burning. Sweat dripping in eyes. Audible huffing. Eerie howling as sands fall away under feet with every step. Sit down for a break and slide down two metres. Damn.

5:40pm

The sand dune is very big. 

5:49pm

Mistily ponder existentialism.

5:55pm

Have enough of zig-zagging. Put head down and climb directly upwards. Feet getting heavier with every step. Literally, with sand.

6:07pm

Look up briefly and am startled. Five steps from top! Observe slight hysteria.

6:10pm

Claw self onto ridge. A moment of exultation! 

6:15pm

Wave furiously at guide near base. Quickly realise mistake as balance is lost and foot slips backward. Decide to sit down as not wise to fall off wrong side of dune.

6:30pm

Slide back down the dune. Sand everywhere in periphery, and in shoes and underwear.

Four days to hot shower.

Signs a big dive trip is just around the corner

1. You start obsessing over your health. Every tickle in the throat or sneeze becomes a cause for worry. You equalize regularly just to make sure that you still can.

2. You check the weather report obsessively. Does the unseasonal thunderstorm here mean that the weather there is out of the ordinary too?

3. "Don't tell me what you saw there the last time you went, I don't want to know." Thirty seconds later, "Did you see mantas? Wobbegong sharks? Whalesharks?" Then, "No, don't tell me."

4. You start digging out your dive gear and laying them out all around the house. Then comes the painful process of deciding between your three wetsuits, two regulators, four masks, the jets and the splits.

5. The resort website becomes your browser homepage. You know the name of the resident dog and your way around the estate and the boat even though you've never actually set foot on it before.

Memories of Venice

"Do you remember," she said tentatively, "when we stayed in the camper off of Venice?"

We were hanging out in her attic room a month after said trip, surfing the net for K-Pop music videos over a plates of pasta, when she suddenly turned to me with a serious expression. "I have something to confess."

"What?" I asked distractedly.

"Do you know why I rushed to use the toilet first on our last morning there? You know I normally want to lie in bed for as long as I can."

"You had to pee really badly?"

"No..." she hesitated. "But you mustn't judge me after this."

I casted her a sideward glance. "I won't. What happened?"

"Well," she said, "the night before I had to shit."

"Uh-huh..."

"And it was really big."

"Okay..."

"It was so big that it couldn't go down when I flushed. So I panicked."

I started laughing. "So what did you do? Did you pour soap into the bowl?"

"That's the thing, I didn't know what to do! I flushed like three times but it was still there." She looked up at me in almost gleeful anticipation of my reaction. "So I reached in..."

"YOU DID NOT!"

"I was desperate! I picked it up, but it broke in half. By the way, it felt quite solid, even though the surface was slimey."

Bear in mind that this is a girl who visually inspects her products every time she uses the washroom, and then reports to me.

"It was interesting, I've never seen it up close before. So I inspected it for a while. Then you know what I did with it?"

"I don't know - wait! Holy shit, please don't tell me you put it in the pizza box on our night stand! I knew there was a reason why you didn't want to take it out with us when we left!" I clapped a hand over my mouth in horror.

"No no no," she hastened to assure me. "Of course not, I'm not that gross. I put them in the bin in the bathroom. Then I had to cover them with tons of toilet paper so you wouldn't see it. You didn't notice when you went in to shower after me, right?"

"Oh god, no."

"You know what the worst part is?"

"Can it get worse?"

"Yea. I shit two pieces. But I picked up three, because I reached all the way inside. So I think I must have picked up yours too."

I fell off the chair, convulsing with laughter. "I didn't use it that day! You must have picked up someone else's."

She shuddered. "And then during the night, I had to use the toilet again. When I went in - whoa! It smelled like someone had died there."

At this point of time, I was rolling helplessly on the floor.

"I was so scared that you would find out. I sprayed my deodorant all over the bathroom. That's why the next morning I had to run in before you - to hide the smell. You didn't notice anything wrong right?"

I was too breathless to answer.

"But anyway, that was our first trip together so I still cared about my image. If the same thing happens now, I don't care if you see my shit. I'm proud of it."

Even now, I can't imagine what the housecleaning staff must have thought when they cleaned up the room.

Today, I was regaled with the story of a guy who bought two American Bullfrogs to get rid of the snakes that had infested his yard suddenly. He was incensed when he found one of the frogs dead the next morning from - not astonishingly - a snake bite. Still, I can't help but feel it would be really interesting to meet someone who thinks it's a great idea to pit some frogs against a bunch of metre-long fanged reptiles.

"He has pornographic memory - no wait! Photographic memory!"

Oysters and alcohol are a potent combination indeed.

Last 3 minutes

"Would you be able to do that?" I texted. "The men were really heroes. Standing on the deck of the Titanic waving to the women and children, knowing they were going to die."

"I don't know," my friend mused. "I would make love to the women instead."

"Nah... you couldn't. The women there were all frigid."

千面女郎

I walked past my mom's room as she was clipping on hair extensions, and laughed.

"不要笑，" she admonished. "我要当千面女郎."

She glanced at my blank face. (My brain works slower in Chinese.)

"一千两千的千," she explained.

Then the gears in my head clicked, and I began to laugh again. "不是啦，　是老千的千对吧!　不愧是千面女郎!"

My mom laughed for a bit, but as I walked away still giggling to myself, she called out, "其实哦，　女人化妆时也算是在骗人。用eyeliner把眼睛花大一点之类."

"噢，现在想攻击我了啊?" I challenged.

"不是啦," she said. "只是拿个比喻而已."

"世界那么多女人，　你就偏偏拿我当比喻?"

"因为你在我面前," she pointed out.

On death

A three-way conversation between Mum, Greg and I on the topic of death:

"Oh yea," I recalled, "you want to be incinerated and then have your ashes strewn in the sea, right?"

"Incinerated?" Mum balked.

"Yea, like I get a metal pail and burn you there right? Save money."

"The fire won't be strong enough!" she protested. "What if there's an arm or a head left-over?"

"So you want your entire body thrown into the sea just like that?" I smirked.

"No la... bring me to the church and cremate me properly. They have some sort of a casket service."

"Such a waste of money! Caskets cost a few thousand dollars, and then you burn it right up."

"Get a cheap one," Mum shrugged.

"You can throw me straight into the fire, I won't mind. In fact I'd prefer that." I said.

"Cannot la," Greg suddenly chimed in. "At least wrap in newspaper."

"No!" Mum said, horrified. "You'll get ink all over. Then what a waste of the make-up!"

Insert a short, contemplative silence.

"Actually, no need to put make-up on me," Mum said thoughtfully.

"What, you don't want your favourite purple eyeliner?"

"No need, my eyes will be closed anyway."

"Hm. I want a push-up bra and a girdle. Just push and squeeze whatever there is available."

Mum laughed. "Wear tight clothes. Sexy clothes."

"Mind you shave my legs!"

"Don't," Greg snorted. "Leave the hair, it'll help burn faster."

"Shave armpits then."

Mum concluded with arguably the best line of the night, "Aiyah, when you're dead you won't be spreading your arms anymore!"

Angels and evolution

I peered nearsightedly into my test-tube of gunk. "So that layer of white stuff floating at the top, that's it right?"

"Yes," the lab assistant grinned proudly, "that's the DNA extract. Good job."

I blinked at it disinterestedly -- you would too if you saw how much like phlegm it looked. "Oh," I said, "that's rather anti-climatic. I was expecting something much cooler."

"Like what?" another lab assistant sneered in my general direction. "Flashing lights?"

"Well... angels and trumpets maybe, but that would probably be blasphemous."

"You better make sure you only take nice photos of me," I warned, trying to avoid the huge telephoto lens.

Dilesh lowered the camera. "Sarah," he said condescendingly, "this is a camera, not a magic wand."

Downsize my britches

"Ich möchte eine Pretzel," I announce, grinning at the German guy behind the counter. "Is that right?"

"Right, left!" he cries with gusto, "the pretzel's on the left, why do you say right? You want a pretzel when you don't even know which it is!"

I stutter and stammer in broken German. That's not what I meant, I try to get out, but I inconveniently forget how to conjugate.

The German man takes delight in my discomfort. "Sehr schön!" he roars. "Ein Dollar fünfzig Cent."

"Um, um, ah, danke," I say, slinking away.

"Danke schön! Tschüss!" he screams in ever-increasing decibels. The German tourists laugh.

The Boyfriend: Have you watched Yes Man? You should watch it.

Me: Why? I don't like Jim Carey, so no. But you're like the fourth person to tell me that. What's it about?

The Boyfriend: It's about this man who always says "no". He even missed his best friend's engagement party --

My phone starts ringing. I check the screen, then flip it upside down and slide it onto the table.

Me: Sorry. Unknown number. You were saying?

The Boyfriend: You're not going to answer it?

Me: Nope.

The Boyfriend: What if it's a missed opportunity?

Me: Won't be. Anyway so what happened with that guy?

The Boyfriend: The friend showed up at his house, demanding to know why he didn't answer the phone --

Me: My phone's still ringing. I feel kinda guilty now. Maybe I should answer it -- oh, it stopped. Okay, good.

The Boyfriend: Exactly like that!! You should watch the show!

Me: What? No.

How to Take an Exam: A Chronology

Last week:
Realise that case study notes cannot be downloaded, because of a wonky server. Decide to procrastinate printing.

Saturday:
Notes still cannot be printed. Decide to procrastinate again, even though exam is on Monday.

Sunday noon:
Website down.

Sunday, 9pm:
Website up, but notes cannot be printed. Observe slight panic.

Sunday, 11pm:
Start summarising 15-page, online case study onto pieces of foolscap.

Monday, 12.30am:
Copying complete. Am proud of work done (even though wouldn't have been necessary if not for original procrastination).

Monday, 9.03am:
Experience hallelujah moment when realise second essay question is based on case study. Work done wasn't for nothing!

Monday, 9.40am:
Finish Essay #1, a finger-wrenching 3 pages. Start brainstorming for Essay #2.

Monday, 9.42am:
Can only think of 1 point for a 30-mark essay. Stop brainstorming.

Monday, 10.25am:
Finish Essay #3. A masterpiece!

Monday, 11am:
Finish Essay #4. 4 pages long, though with massive diagrams included. 3 minutes left for Essay #2. Crap.

Monday, 11.02am:
Finish writing that one point down. Handwriting is very neat.

Monday, 11.15am:
Receive text from brother: Haha. Shortest essay ever.

Exam escapade #1

"I was flipping through my exam paper, and immediately I saw my future flash before me. First I'd fail my exam, then my CAP would drop irreparably low, then I'd get a crappy degree, be unemployed, not find a good husband, and die without any sort of fulfilment. So that first hour of the exam was a very emotional one for me."

I wasn't exaggerating; I really felt that fear.

How not to impress a girl

"Hi, I'm doing a research paper, have got my own office, I speak Italian and German, I lived in Europe for 3 years, I've toured America, I'm a scholar, by the way can I have your number?"

"No."

耐看

"Eh, that guy cute or not?" my friend asked excitedly, referencing a not-too-goodlooking actor in a Chinese sitcom.

Brows furrowed in incredulity, the rest of us echoed variations of "Okay only lar..."

"No, no," she explained unflaggingly. "At first glance he's not that cute. But his look is quite enduring."

In response, "Psshft, then how long must we endure him before he becomes good-looking?"

Lost in translation II

On MSN some time ago:

Me: Bye, goodnight!
Friend: Chaos.
Me: ??

She went offline before I could ask what she meant by "chaos". Was she trying to wish nightmares upon me? Or was it an unwarrented statement on the affairs of the world?

It was only after some deep pondering in bed that I realised the following:

1. My friend probably spells phonetically.

2. People try to be trendy by adding the letter s after words, in the vein of anyways, laters, and nights.

3. The Italian word for goodbye is ciao.

For hygenic reasons, as well as to spare us the hassle of daily groomings, my dogs are shaved periodically.

For the most part my Dad has been the one in charge of the shearing. Recently however he developed some back problems, and the task thus fell into my reluctant hands.

Now I've always thought it was a waste to shave off all their fur. Shih Tzus are supposed to have luxurious coats; without them, my dogs look bug-eyed and gormless. Yet leaving the fur on wasn't an option, primarily because my dogs are filthy creatures who enjoy sitting in their own waste.

So, I thought, why not get creative?

After some (10 seconds) deliberation, I decided to give one of my lucky dogs --

.
.
.

.
.
.

A doggy mohawk!!

A mane of fur all the way from the head (though I left him bangs) to the tail. Looks a bit llama-ish now, but in a cute way.

So punky.

I think the next time I'll do horizontal stripes.

Mum: *accidentally tips bowl of food into the sink* Oops.

Me: *laughs hysterically*

Mum: Aiyah, if the sink's clean I can eat from it. But I haven't washed it in a few days... oh! The fish didn't touch the sink! Can still eat!

Me: *still laughing hysterically*

Ten seconds later, while Mum's cleaning up:

Me: *accidentally drops bowl of food into sink*

Mum: *laughs hysterically* We are in the same boat!

Me: :((

My dad ate 8 packets of seasoning because he thought they were vitamin powder. Apparently, when my mom pointed out which drawer they were in, his short-sightedness got him a little confused.

We're hoping his hair doesn't start falling out.