3 in 1

Hi Aunty Chris! Enjoy your lunch. (Don't know Aunty Chris? Ignore this, it's an inside joke.)

This has been a wacko week with regards to sleeping patterns:

I sleep late so I fall sick. I fall sick so I put off work. I put off work so I stay up late doing work. I stay up late doing work so I stay sick. I get a blocked nose so I can't breathe. I can't breathe so I can't sleep at night. I don't get enough sleep so I drink coffee. I drink coffee so I don't fall asleep. I don't fall asleep so I sleep late.

It's a vicious cycle, I tell you.

...

Let me introduce you to my yo-yo, on again-off again relationship. Unlike most couples, we thrive on stress. When exams come, we are tight. When we are traveling, we are inseparable. When we are organizing CF camps, KIDS camps and going on retreats, no one, NO ONE, can come in between us. But then, I'm an independent woman. When I have no more need for him, he gets dumped. DUMPED!

Say hi to Nescafe 3 in 1.
I'm not addicted. I promise.

So as I mentioned earlier, I've had a wacko week with regards to sleeping patterns. And Nescafe 3 in 1 became my best buddy. But we ran out. And I made a new best buddy. He's also Nescafe 3 in 1. But slightly different...Three packets. One cup. No sugar. No milk. Very SHIOK.

Ever played a guitar while keeping count with the heel of your foot? Ever had your leg go into a caffeine induced spasm that wouldn't stop, slow down or respond to voluntary neural action potentials? I have. Today. During a worship session. It was weird, but shiok. Very shiok.

After meeting up with various people...

...I discovered...

...that seniors will always *look* serious-er than us juniors...

...that I don't like fries.
...that I can't keep my eyes open for pictures.

...that I don't scream when I'm 180* upside down.

...that Suet Yee is really really light.
...and that this introvert CRASHES after being out for 14 hours.

*no picture can depict that*

(F)lame?

We were in the car "lame talking" when someone said something exceptionally lame. And this is what happened:

The Kor Kor: *shaking head* S'lame...
The Easily Amused: S'lame? Wassat?
The Kor Kor: SO LAME.
The Easily Amused: Ohhhh...S'lame!! How about V'lame? For VERY lame. Teeheehee...

*random chattering and laughing*

The Quiet One: Flame.

*silence*

The Driver: Huh? What's that?
The Quiet One: Fu-yooh lame.

Yesterday, some of us ancient CFers went back to school to be a nuisance. And as tradition demands it, we left a letter for the current CF committee:

Dear 2009 Committee,

We don't really know you, but we really hope that you will be able to read this note. =) We couldn't get into your shack but we tried peeping through the shutters but couln't see anything. That's when we decided to write this note. *big smiley face* I bet you think we are crazy now. Trust us, you will be doing that when you come back to visit next time. *evil laugh* Ok, we are hungry now, have fun! Continue serving the lord with all your heart, soul, mind and lameness. We are starving to death now X_X You know when (we are back), when you find another weird note. =P

CF Committees of

2004, 2005

2007 & 2008

Muax!

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I have one word. "Flame".

Mutation

I was bitten by a radioactive spider and became a pig. A Superpig to be exact.

.

So I wake up at 8:30ish to eat breakfast with the family, assuming a rather zombified, "don't talk to me or I'll punch you" face. Then about halfway through breakfast, it turns into a "talk to me and I may answer you, albeit incoherently" face.

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Then I stumble back to bed and sleep till lunch.

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This is the life of a Superpig.

Lets talk food.

I've been rotting away at home. Rotting leads to messes in the kitchen. Here's the proof:

Say hello to half my mess. They are bagels, not doughnuts. Doughnuts are fried in oil. Bagels are boiled in water. Doughnuts are smothered in sugar. Bagels are fat free. Doughnuts are bad. Bagels are good. End of discussion.

Oh, say hello to doughie, the genesis of my mess. At this time, I would like to dedicate doughie to BUM. Will the congregation please rise for the occasion...

Lets talk more food. Lets talk popiah.

We had popiah for dinner. And I observed a disturbing trend. Girls can roll popiah. Guys can't. End of discussion.

Starting with my very skinny, clean, neatly tucked in popiah. Some people call it kiam siap. I call it si mun.

Moving on to the mother's "about to pao cha", turgid, but still neatly rolled up popiah.And then the guys.

Here's the korkor's popiah: ends flopping around like dumbo's ears.

But nothing beats the father's popiah. It wouldn't stay rolled. He ate it with ze fork and ze spoon.

I observed a disturbing trend. Girls can roll popiah. Guys can't. End of discussion.

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Oh, my phone died. Also end of discussion.

Of Blood and Needles (Part 2)

Gah. Now the whole church knows I nearly passed out.

The joys of being the pastor's daughter...

Of needles and blood.

A few weeks ago, I was at this ChapFun stall with rachelHubs. She pointed at this dish, and...

RachelHubs: Have you eaten this bean thing?

Me: *stare*

RachelHubs: It's HaemogloBIN!!!

Me: *stare*

When your "hubby" makes jokes about a dish of clotted blood, just stare. It's the thing to do.

So the blood donation people came to church today. And I dragged Miss Ong down to get stabbed and have our lives sucked out of us. After all the paper work, I climbed into THE CHAIR and the nurse started poking around...

...and then I fainted.

Just kidding.

...and then I started laughing, because she couldn't find my vein. In the end, the nurse found it...and then Miss Ong joined me.

Me: Have they stabbed you yet?
Miss Ong: No.

(2 minutes later)
Me: Have they stabbed you yet?
Miss Ong: No. Stop freaking me out.
Me: Oh. Sorwee.

Funny thing was that though Miss Ong started later than me, her bag of strawberry juice got filled way before mine. And I was the one faithfully squeezing the stick. Oh the injustice!

Anyways, they finally filled the bag. It looks like leong fun. Don't you think?

Anyways, I was fine and dandy. Until I went to service...and had a tummy upset, got light headed, whoozy and nearly fainted. I figure that what ever strawberry juice I had left in my system had gone to my tummy. Cut the long story short, Ah Boy had to take me back home. Though I bet he was closer to fainting than me...BOYS!

But hey, I'd do it again. Someone needs it more than me right?

...I wanna ride it all night long...

This is part two of Life is a highway. And yes, I kinda-sorta-sometimes-once in a while listen to country moosik. I'm glad I got that off my chest.

Now for the main course.

So on the way up to Ipoh/Penang, dad got David and me to drive. Hmmm...now I know why our "travelling mercies" prayer was longer than before.

When Pa drives on the highway, we all sleep and leave him to suffer in silence. But when Dave or I drive, everyone is on full alert. Like seriously. We always try to get mum to sit behind the drivers seat so she can't check our speed every other second. But then if she wants to check our speed every other second and make her mor qui chang...I can't complain. Right mum? RIGHT.

Oh..."mor qui chang" is hokkien for "hair stand up".

Anyways, I didn't kill nobody. I mean, I'm a nice, sedate, phlegmatic driver. I stay well below the speed limit. I hardly overtake. And I only got one glare from a lorry driver. I think. Hee.

DongDong

Repeat after me.
.

I...

...I

.

am...

...am

.

a...

...a

.

DongDong...

...DongDong!

.

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I really hope you replaced "I" with "Caryn" or "Cow". Coz if you didn't...maybe YOU deserved it.

.

But anyways...this DongDong left her handphone underneath her pillow and went on a 4 day roadtrip with her family. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry or curl up and die. (Hey! That rhymes!!)

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But yes, the joke's on me. My name is now Cow Tan Dong Dong.