- Doraemon didn’t not start out being blue. He was yellow, and had ears! Was enlightened by a friend yesterday while passing by a store selling its merchandise. Explanation here. Strange that now that I know, I keep seeing yellow Doraemons. I probably thought that they were pirated merchandise previously.

- It was impossible to get into the Uniqlo store without possessing an abundance of patience. That, I clearly lacked, and so could only longingly look into the store yesterday. The ceilings at the new Tampines mall are low. The stores are identical to the ones found in other local malls (well, except for, that store). And look, here’s a typo. The fruit tarts at Fruit Paradise look wonderful though.

- iluma @ Bugis. Yawn. Well, at least it has a cinema and an arcade where you can watch people win stuffed toys. The latter was, surprisingly, quite fun to watch, so you should schedule a viewing every 5-8 years. I wonder why all the shopping malls are coming up with Japanese-themed food places. Tampinese 1 has one, iluma is going to have one. Sadly, they all seem to enjoy serving mediocre overpriced food. I like the fact that soon I will be able to suggest Japanese every time someone asks for a meal suggestion though. “Udon, ramen? Something else? There’s nothing else, so how about sushi? Sashimi?” That even rhymes. The effort I go to, wow.

- I apologise for not sounding enthusiastic about the above. I don’t dislike shopping (quite the contrary) but I don’t really understand why people can do it week after week at the same places. Also, apologies that this blog doesn’t have a pink background with ugly fonts, or photos of my pedicure. Have I gone off ranting about something else? I want a sandwich.

- I am just about the worst driver (-in-training) ever. Then again, my instructor has taken to eating sandwiches during the lesson, and there are two ways to read that. 1. He feels comfortable enough about my driving. 2. My driving makes him wanna throw up, and eating something helps take his mind off that. I feel good about the first option, but all signs point to the latter. Today’s was probably the worst lesson ever (it topped the one two weeks ago, so that is saying something). Why the hell am I learning manual? Why on earth do I think about books while driving? Why did the bastard honk? Why is my instructor doing a nervous chortle-n-sigh? All these things went through my mind after the lesson, and I reluctantly pushed the day I acquire a driving licence further into the recesses of my to-do list.

- Green apple green tea. <3

- Was quite sorry to finish The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. Sigh. A multimedia theatrical production should be rather interesting.

- Siem Reap in a fortnight. Haha!

(All images from Supermarket)

I’m slowly getting the idea of making a three-point turn. Slowly. Somehow, the mind ceases to function intelligently when its vessel is behind a wheel. I quite enjoy driving though, but only if it is on a straight road and there is no fellow traffic. Jaywalkers, stay home! I say this out of pure altruism, and also, because it seems to rain whenever (or is it wherever?) I drive.

Things that irk me, part #2:
- People who ruin books
- Borders

(I’m going to whinge.)

And this time, I shall follow up with some related thoughts. The first is rather obvious. There is no way I will buy a book if it looks like it has already been read a million times or if it has a crease/fold/tear/stain on its cover (or anywhere else). I do think it is okay to “preview” a book by reading a few pages – I do it all the time, especially when it comes to authors I haven’t read previously – but please, do be considerate you dimwit. Contrary to popular belief, I take decent care of my books. Except those that go missing, but that is pardonable since they often go missing without consent anyway.

Bookstores with a persistent strain of this problem: Popular/Harris, Borders. I was very pleased when a Harris store opened at Jurong Point, but so far, I’ve been quite disappointed with the condition of their books. For some reason, the books that I have my eye on are always in crap condition. They need to improve their shelving system. Propping up books against nothing, and expecting them to stand on their own is just plain dumb. Even if a book is as thick as hell, it is almost definite that it will fall back or over at some point. Ahh. And stop treating books on sale like they aren’t worth anything! Am looking at you too, Borders.

Borders. Was contemplating getting a Borders card yesterday. Their email coupons are very enticing; you get 30% off for 3 books, and if you are a member, you get an additional 10% off, which is all very, very enticing. Last evening after work, I rushed down to the bookstore before meeting a friend for dinner, thinking I should get some books for the weekend. Well, then, of course, the books were in less-than-perfect condition (though it was minor enough for me to consider a purchase), and I couldn’t find all the books I wanted. But in the end, what stopped me was the fact that the book was more expensive than what it would had cost in other bookstores. The difference in price would have rendered the discount nearly worthless and unworthy of my infidelity.

The above primarily stems from me being a cheapskate, but yeah. And so, Kinokuniya, you are the (my) best. In terms of variety and pricing. And service. And decor. I don’t know why I’m whining about bookstores. It’s been a slow day on all fronts, I suppose. I could complain about how bland my milk tea was today, but I was quite happy to have had one at all.

Hmm, an iPod or iPod Touch?

This chair likes me. I know it does.

There are needs and there are wants, and there are things that you want to need. Like, say, if I get my own place, I will be able to get this lovely steamer pot, this impossibly cute polka dot mug, and this pitcher that I initially had qualms about but am ready to overlook because roosters can be cute and there is really no better place for them than on a kitchen counter. And the pitcher will be happy to have a teapot friend. And a kettle confidante. I miss my kitchen already. Let’s move on to wardrobe.

Besides doing clicking exercises, I have also been reading this, which is wickedly funny, and I have to constantly remind myself that giggling and smirking to oneself on the train may sometimes come across as peculiar.

From In the Waiting Room:

It’s funny the things that run through your mind when you’re sitting in your underpants in front of a pair of strangers. Suicide comes up, but, just as you embrace it as a viable option, you remember that you don’t have the proper tools: no belt to wrap around your neck, no pen to drive through your nose or ear and up into your brain. I thought briefly of swallowing my watch, but there was no guarantee I’d choke on it. It’s embarrassing, but, given the way I normally eat, it would probably go down fairly easily, strap and all. A clock might be a challenge, but a Timex the size of a fifty-cent piece, no problem.

On a completely unrelated note, I have been wondering how to pronounce the word “oeuvre”. I was reading aloud from a book last night and realised I had no clue how to pronounce that (and once again, I bemoan the fact that me mastering phonetics is akin to oxygen becoming gold). And Dictionary.com didn’t help much. Somehow, if it is really pronounced the way the accompanying audio clip says it is, then chances of me ever using that word in public have just plummeted to zero.

Woah. Dictionary.com just had a revamp.