Amazing how closely resembled I am with animals. 

Stop missing the 'B'

Don't get me wrong. I don't like bee. It's just that last week, I happened to see a van with a milk advertisement and the slogan goes:"Supports rain development". Huh? I asked myself. What does milk have to do with rain? Does drinking the milk encourage some form of weird movement that is mistaken as the tribal rain dance?
After pondering over it for a while, I finally understood what the message actually meant. It's supposed to read :"Supports brain development" and the letter 'b' was missing. That sparked me into thinking how the world will be like if all the 'b' s were to disappear:
For one, the pretty insect, butterfly will become a noisy one. (utterfly)
The office politics of responsibility and fault pointing, blame game will sound silly and trival. (lame game)
Of the most concern, the keeping of journals using a high-tech and sophisticated medium, blog, will make all of us a cave man. (log)
Therefore, I feel that it is important to spell well as I do support brain development, with or without milk.

Feel like a Flower and smell Heavenly.. with Marks & Spencer 'Freesia' body cream. 

The art of giving Names

Not as in giving people bad names. What I mean is the names that you will give your children next time when you have them. My friends, usually the girls all have at one point or another thought up of many pretty names for their daughters after being awed by the beauty of a particular actress in the movie. (I shall not name names here..) And another friend of mine came up with a name for her son after she is convinced of the uniqueness of the name. Well, the source of inspiration comes from a Korean drama.
I trace back to how my name was given in order to learn more about this art of giving names. Turns out it follows a pattern: My mother is called Serene so, I am called Serena. I am resolved to stop this pattern in my generation because no way I am going to call my daughter Serenade, though I hope she can sing better than her tone-deafed mum.
Perhaps it is too early to start thinking of names for our children at this stage of life. However, it can also be important, especially for the girls. Because if I were to marry a man by the family name of Hop, then I will definitely not consider the following names for my daughter and son: Lindy and Hip.

Life Is Far From Equal

That's right. Life with the double 'F'. I do not mean it to be a vulgar vulgarity but I guess it serves that purpose just as well. Life Is Far From Equal. For instance on the bus home just now, I was forced to stand beside a woman who was sorta occupying two seats as she was sitting at the outer side of a two-seater. Later on another girl came on the bus. Now note my reaction as I replay it on slow motion: While I was stuggling to stand still beside the woman, my eyeballs being the only part of my body capable of violent random actions without jeopardising my balance, followed her as she shifted in to her right to allow seat to the girl. Are they related? was my first response. When I realised that they are not, the benefit of the doubt soon turned into the blazing of my anger.
Now that the anger has subsided, I am more and more convinced of how the unfairness in the world can ignite wars, quarrels or even the tiny fire in all of us. I am not trying to be a communist sympathiser here but the reality sometimes does hit hard.
Or is it because as we grow older, we are transforming from the strawberry mashmellow to the liquor-filled chocolate? Initially, we were soft outside and sweet inside. Now, we are just bitter outside and more bitter inside. Are we becoming more cynical of the world as we get more exposed to people like Mr Willy Wonker and his chocolate factory? Or is it because we just love to complain about this universally known but physically invisible thing called Life?
Well, I guess it is all a combination of everything. Especially so for someone like me. A Roche who always seems to get on the bad side of Life. Hard yet vulnerable on the inside and ugly on the outside....

Mirror the Royal Self

Have you wondered how the positon of a mirror on a part of your body reflect your true personality? I don't know the reliabilty of this test but if the people in Palace actually have an answer to it, maybe it will work on ordinary folks like us...

Please note: Scroll down slowly to avoid peeping at the answers before the relevant questions.

Q: On which part of his body would the King place the mirror at, after holding it on his hands first?

A: His heart.

Because any reasonably hard object is a protective shield to the paranoid King.

Q: On which part of her body would the Queen place a mirror at, after holding it on her hands first?

A: Her hands.

The vain Queen will continue holding it in her hands until the mirror miraculously answers her plead"Who's the prettiest of us all?"

Q: On which part of her body would the Princess place a mirror at, after holding it on her hands first?

A: Her Lips.

Because the lovelorn Princess has noone to practice the act of the perfect kiss with other than herself.

Q: On which part of his body would the Prince place the mirror at, after holding it on his hands first?

A: His Foot.

The naughty Prince is waiting to catch some glimpses of immodesty when a lady walks in front of him.

So, on which part of your body would you position the mirror?
For me, I'll just place it on my stomach and do crunches with it.
Hey, you are right. My personality is ridiculous.

Sensitive Senses

I am surprised by how keen my senses are recently and this is both bad and yet beautiful. Bad because my highly picky sense of smell got me into a giddy state of revulsion when a sweat-smelling man sat beside me on the bus home today. What grossed me next is coming from my tried eyes when I saw him shaking his right crossed over left leg nonchantantly and that leg was threatening to invade my space with his every move.
Bad again when later, my ears unwilling picked up the most piercing wail from my 7 year old cousin. My sense of touch also suffered because of the sudden outbreak of pimples on my face. And that's left with taste. Well, that didn't turn out good also as I realise that pimple has a funny way of catching your attention by growing on the most weird area, this time, on my lips.
So, what is so beautiful about the senses? Not so if I only mention this 5. It's beautiful because of the 1 important sense that has prompted me into pleading with my driving tester to not fail me. And it is the 6th sense that i'm talking about here. The result: I passed my driving. Beautiful.

Because Alzhemier's spread

My dear friend, Jasmine prompted me to start a blog. I have a feeling that this is going to be the beginning of writing a diary. Just that, this diary is going to be more open than Bill's pants and more exposed than Monica's cleavage.