Borders

Everyone knows I'm obsessed with reading - and books have always been a part of my life, filling up every second and minute of my day, and obviously every nook and cranny in my house too :) Used to drive my friends crazy when they came by since I'd be found with my nose buried in the book most of the time. Every moment of the day, you'll find me with a book by my side, either embedded deep in my voluminous white coat ( also great for hiding the occasional candy bar, the stethoscope and even condoms :) - it pays to be prepared! ), or perhaps somewhere hidden in my backpack.

So it was with some glee that I greeted another big bookstore opening its doors, just a stone's throw away in Kuala Lumpur. Sure, I know I'm supposed to support the friendly little neigbourhood family-owned bookshop instead of the large, soulless corporation-run book chain ( ala You've Got Mail ) but what the heck, I'll take my books anyway I can. A Borders Bookstores is opening 60,000 square feet of books over here and it's gonna be great!

After all, who knows I just might meet the cute, bespectacled, intelligent hunk of my dreams over at the gay fiction section.

Lil meanie

For some time, I've always figured that I'm a peaceable guy, the kinda cool guy who lets everything slide if possible and doesn't get mad at most things. And that's the way I usually am. In my family, I'm usually the one who backs down from arguments since I actually detest raised voices - it's actually my elder brother who's the fractious one.

Then I went out into the world, started work and built a life of my own - and I started finding my own voice. Perhaps I gave in to my family one time too many in the past since nowadays I hardly ever give an inch. Stubborn and tenacious as hell, that's me. Certain things get my temper up - and once I hit the boiling point ( which is extremely rare, fortunately ), I can actually understand why my bigger, larger ISO actually starts running for cover. I get really mean. No, I don't yell, I don't break things, I don't throw punches or vases ( well, not anymore ), but I can say the nastiest things in the coolest, calmest of voices. I don't take jibes or jabs without getting my own back.



Just like yesterday when I blew off some steam on one of my supervisors. He was venting off about my junior colleagues - talking in quite an unjust manner about their work ethics and I just roared in their defense. Such a rare explosion in the operating theatre certainly left them something to talk about - and I'm sure I'll feel the repercussions for some days afterward.

Ouch. And it leaves me drowning in remorse after the fact since some of the things I say can be awfully cutting. So, Jason although you shouldn't be a doormat no more, you shouldn't be in such a hurry to go the other way either :)

Night creatures

Not only is my gaydar irrevocably busted but I'm finding it increasingly hard to find gay men in my lil town. Sure, it's a great place to live and work - and it's my hometown after all but dang, the gay life here sucks. Still I am still single, horribly tenacious and I don't give up so... I decided to give it a try and drove around, trolling the bars in search of something approaching a gay nightlife.

Since I came back alone, there is none obviously. :) I have come to the conclusion that I might be the only eligible gay man around these parts - apart from my ISO of course. Still I managed to dance with a few slightly inebriated ladies however.

I even took the time to go around this small park close to the historical enclave. After all, I have it on good authority that the GLBT makes the wooded area a popular haunt. Well, make that the gays and the transgenders since I have yet to hear of a lusty lipstick lesbian making the rounds in the park. Perhaps it was a little early for the nocturnal creatures to be out and about seeking their prey but the area was actually devoid of human presence. I've always wondered what makes gay men congregate in the unlikeliest of places. Shady highway stops? A shaded woodland park in the centre of town? Not even the hardiest nature worshippers would be skulking around the park at that unseasonable hour so it's obvious that the guys at the park were only after one thing.

Sex. Come on, is that all we're after? Sure, I'm certainly not hypocritical enough to deny my natural leanings, I do want sex - and lots of it in various positions and places but is that all? What happened to good conversation and a meaningful relationship?

Man for sale

Saw this recent Ebay sale - caught by Towleroad. Take a look at Kory's bid. This cute 21 year old is so sick and bored of life in Morehead that he's selling his services for one year.

Currently looking for job, family, place to stay far away from here. Bored with life.


Sure, it sounds like a gay man's prurient, sex-soaked dream ( definitely something out of gay porn ) to own this hunky stud - and use him for his various services - but it actually sounds terribly sad to me. Although I'm sure he meant the ebay ad to sound interesting, I find it terribly disheartening. What made this young man so disillusioned and tired of life in his town that he has to do this? How did he end up getting so screwed up with debts that he had to sell his services this way?

Orlando blooms

Just a short note on hot guys :) ... and isn't that the best kind? Just excuse me as I gush like a silly schoolboy for a second.

Orlando Bloom had me drooling for pointy-eared blond slyphlike elves in the Lord of the Rings. All dashing, lithe and sexy despite the slight untouchable, androgynous-like quality that hung about the race. Then he dove into the swashbuckler role of a pirate protege in the Caribbean which left me weak in the knees - and all too ready to fall into his arms. Like everyone else, I tried my best to forget his role as the callow, spineless Paris in the largely forgettable Troy.

And then Orlando walks onto the screen, all bulked up with toned muscle and testosterone-laden in a recent movie preview. I'm practically drooling! Who could have possibly guessed that the slim elfling could blossom into a bonafide hubba-hubba hunk. Shows you what protein shakes and grueling days at the gym can do!



Loosely based on a true story and set during the Crusades, it tells the tale of a peasant blacksmith named Balian of Ibelin who rises to knighthood to protect the Holy Land of Jerusalem from foreign invaders. Kingdom of Heaven opens next week over here and I'll definitely be first in line.

Post wedding daze

Let's start with the stag night. Nothing wildly interesting to note apart from the fact that as I mentioned before, straight guys are easily entertained. Stuff them full with chips and booze, stick them on a couch in front of a telly with some sort of athletes bashing their skulls out of each other - and they're entertained. Honestly, perhaps it's time they did a study on this.

Of course things got a lot more salacious once my friends put on a ridiculously graphic porn movies about a wandering nymphette who seemed to have some difficulty finding her clothes ( perhaps looking for them in what looked to be a men's dormitory wasn't a very bright idea, but then she didn't look all that sharp anyway ). Still the lil miss managed to pander to some of my friends' more prurient fantasies for a while - and near obliterated some of the healthy respect I had for my friends. They get totally weird in front of naked women onscreen :)

Then again, I probably get more than a lil wired when a cute boy walks by in shorts. :)

Still, it hopefully provided some excellent DIY techniques to inspire my friend, Tiny Tim, during some of his connubial revels. Of course, it would take considerable athletic prowess - and the abnormally flexible spine of a yoga master - to perform some of those feats. Saw a different side of the man last night. Alcohol certainly loosened his tongue - and he's certainly way more fun than his usual uptight self.

Fortunately, the wedding went as planned without a hitch. Managed to get Tiny Tim up from his inebriated sleep without much fuss. Tiny Tina, his bride looked absolutely horrendous in a pink confection of frills and lace - sadly resembling nothing less than an Asian hooker on steroids - but I looked terribly dashing in baby pink and Calvin Kleins. Told her before that I should have chosen her dress!

Didn't have a date for the wedding dinner unfortunately since I actually declined Graceless Grace's invitation. Still I found myself seated next to my staff nurse's man-child. Just like one of my stories, the man-child was sixteen officially but looked at least a virile, fuckable twenty! With dark sexy eyes, a hint of a mustache and a smile worthy of Timothy Lim, he charmed the pants off me - well almost anyway till I realized that he was jailbait.

Still I am hopeful, he does have an older brother in college.

Post Stag night

More details later, I promise! The church wedding's tomorrow so I gotta get everyone to bed ( including myself ) and kick the rest of the guests out. After stuffing him full of chips and beer, Tiny Tim's been tucked into bed ( a separate room please! I don't sleep with grooms-to-be, unless they bear an uncannily close resemblance to Colin Farrell :) ). I intend to splash him with ice-cold water - and a boot in the ass - early in the morning tomorrow, following the hardly blushing bride-to-be's instructions.

Gotta get to sleep! Long day tomorrow - and I need to look good in case my Prince Charming happens to be amongst the guests ( since I still don't have a date for the wedding dinner! ).

Stag night

Have to figure I'm somewhat ready to host a stag night. Ever the responsible, stand-up guy, I even laid out the guest bed just in case Tiny Tim's way too drunk to get home. Got the booze, the chips and the skanky DVDs ( borrowed it from one of my straight friends actually since I seriously doubt any of the guys coming would be interested in muscled fratboy sex :) ). Thankfully, straight guys are obviously easily entertained. If I start getting desperate I believe I do have ESPN on cable.

Cleared out of work an hour early just to get back home to prepare. Like the good housefrau that I am, I spent the day clearing up the house, picking up anything remotely breakable. Isn't it weird that I think a bunch of responsible adult males could make more of a mess than a small, wobbling toddler? A good time to start your housekeeping duties, Jason, would be this weekend - once you get away from coaching the kickball kids :) Don't forget the jock with the duster attachment.

And after all my planning and cleaning, I still don't have a date for the wedding! Looks like Graceless Grace is gonna have a dance partner ( with two left feet! ) after all.

Crazy at work

Didn't have much time to plan out this weekend's stag party apart from getting a time and calling up some of Tiny Tim's friends.

Work was crazy today and I barely had time to breathe as cases poured in from the outside. Never let it be said that life in the operating theatre's dull and methodical. Just as I'd gone through a laparatomy for a perforated gastric ulcer, then came a pregnant lady with one twin having a cord prolapse. As I rushed through the emergency cases, I only had time to admire Yummy Yee's new haircut. What can I say? Even under the scrubs, he looks quite delectable.

Unfortunately, he still makes me feel old. Unlike the rest of the jaded old souls in the hospital, there's still that blindingly bright and shiny sheen of idealism on the kid and I hope he doesn't lose that lovin' feeling.

Newfangled interns have a lot of work on their hands, mostly grunt work, I'll admit. Clerking the incoming patients, drawing out blood for investigations, doing the necessary routine ward work... all at the ground level. Still they're usually required to toe the line and blindly follow the orders given by their superiors at work. The scope of the work changes once they become residents - yeah, like me. :) There's still the same alarming amount of work but it comes along with a heavy burden of responsibility as we're required to take charge of the situation. That actually takes some time to pick up.

First time I was faced with that responsibility, it gave me a moment or two of fear. The terrifying, brain-numbing feeling that comes when the staff nurse swivels her head around to ask for further orders as a patient collapses in front of your eyes. I can just recall my first reaction was - You have got to be kidding! Me? And then instinct ( relentlessly drummed into our heads by years of medical school ) takes over and you react.

Seeing Sahara

After Rapatu's rave reports, I decided to give Sahara a chance ( definitely not to be confused with horror flick Samara! ). An action-adventure flick based on Clive Cussler's series of novels about a dashing adventurer called Dirk Pitt. Wasn't all that bad surprisingly although I have to admit I preferred the slightly more cerebral National Treasure and my brainy cutie, Riley Poole.

Lots of gunfights and explosions complete with the prerequisite female booty in the sultry shape of Penelope Cruz and the funny sidekick played by the ever versatile Steve Zahn. Still it was nice to see Matthew McConaughey in action again as the lead - sexy, rugged Southern guy with an accent as smooth mint julep on a hot summer's day, brilliant white smile and beautiful tanned muscles. Come on, what else is there to ask for?

Despite not providing much of an exercise for my puzzle-solving mind, I still had an epiphany sometime during the show when one of my friends, Shameless Shalom ( part of my moviegoing posse ) turned around and asked in a sotto voce whisper what I was going to do about Tiny Tim's bachelor party. Sure, he's one of my closest friends.... but I've already got to find a damned date for the wedding, and now I'm supposed to get him a party!?

As I stammered over a pathetically garbled explanation, my brain was busy cooking up a hastily made-up plan. Since I'm still a relative innocent when it comes to bachelor parties ( never hosted but managed to attend a few hopelessly drunken orgies ), what does it actually constitute? Friends and colleagues of the groom are a given. I assume booze and some bites are expected to. But what else? Cheap straight porn? Toys? Strippers?

Obviously Tiny Tim needs to find some straight friends.

Topsy-turvy house

Just another housekeeping nightmare for me today.

Woke up this morning to find my house in disarray - and almost suffered an embolism. Books and magazines strewn all over the floor, pillows tossed to and fro, chairs overturned and glasses left all over the tables. It reminded me of a scene from one of my college days where I lived with a hundred other virile but hopelessly messy guys. No, I haven't had a full-fledged marine/fratboy orgy - though I certainly wish I did. Bet they would be cleaner.

This all actually describes my sister-in-law's novel method of housecleaning - which means none obviously. I never expected to find myself inheriting my mother's genes for finicky, obsessive housecleaning but guess what, I actually did. I can't stand seeing my home looking like a tornado just blew in :)

Damn. Guess I'll have to get the vacuum cleaner out. Where are the cute houseboys when you need them?

Wobbly niece

It's the long weekend over here again - and it's usually the time my family descends upon me en masse. And yes, it heralds the arrival of my cute niece, Emma - who's just wobbled past the age of one recently. So obviously it was time for a little housecleaning. Not only cleaning up the scandalous smut on the tables ( somewhat incriminating photo books and DVDs ) but also taking up all the breakable antiques from wherever she might toddle by. Also had a spot of drinking last night which is why I've had to had a long shower to wipe off any signs of wild inebriation left ( not that I think she would figure it out even if her uncle was bleary-eyed, drowsy and smelling of liquor :) ).

Isn't it weird how little kids already show some personal characteristics at that age? With that stubborn tilt of her chin, I can swear the poor girl's already picked up her father's irascible temper ( my brother, of course ).

Third Man Out

Stale news, I'm sure, but it's still too great not to repeat. One of my favourite authors - and one of the wittiest, Richard Stevenson writes about a sarcastic, cynical hard-boiled detective called Donald Strachey - who incidentally happens to be gay. Although the business of sleuthing makes up the core of the stories, the sweet, funny relationship between Strachey and his erstwhile partner, Tim Callahan, adds some much-needed spice.



Best part would be the fact that the book's been made into a television series with Chad Allen in the title role! At first I was amazed to find out that Chad Allen had been chosen to play the craggy detective but when I searched for his face, I realized that he did look the part. For those who haven't seen him in some time, you'd be glad to know that he has aged tremendously from the innocent, fresh-faced kid in Dr Quinn Medicine Woman - and aged somewhat well, I have to admit.

Temporary insanity

Good grief. Read what I just wrote minutes ago. Thinking about my ISO in that way again, am I plain crazy? Somewhere out there are good, loyal compatriots who have been sworn to a sacred blood pact to kidnap me, toss me in a posh apartment somewhere and deal me several painful slaps ( and not necessarily in a light, pleasurable S&M way ) if I were crazy enough to even think of another wild misadventure with ISO.

Obviously I need a date.

Make that a good one. No crazy insurance people with wandering hands. I'm a reasonably presentable guy, hold down a regular job ( with measly pay and terrible hours! I demand reimbursement! ), still have all my hair and teeth, and can reasonably hold an intelligent conversation ( Does talking Beavis & Butthead count? ). Any applicants?

Instant Unexplained Lust

Let's face it. I'm officially a pervert :)

While at work yesterday, I managed to get a quick look at the front page of one of the local dailies over here. One of the feature articles mentioned the achievements of a Timothy Lim. An extraodinarily high-achieving kid, he managed to get accepted to several prestigious universities including Stanford and Harvard on the strength of his O Levels results. While others might have marvelled over his admirable scholastic abilities, his energetic conquest of the Kilimanjaro and even the fact that he taught English to Cambodian street children, all I could think of was the fact that he gave me an instant hard-on.

Sexy eyes and a great smile - even with the tousled, just-got-out-of-bed hair. A definite heartbreaker in the future, that's for sure. Bright, brainy and beautiful... if he weren't so cute, you'd have to hate him. Damn, and he's only a jailbait/lolita child of 17!

Who cares about the fact that he can speak several languages when all I can think about is teaching him French. :) What can I say? The oddest things seem to get me irrepressibly horny these days - even my ISO brushing inadvertently against my arm had me getting all tingly. Since he's so liberal with his sweet lovin, I think it might be time to ask him for a free tune-up. :)

Monday Nights

Monday nights are usually vegging out by the telly nights. It's the one night that I dedicate solely to television since most comedies and dramas over here are played on that night. Grab a bunch of pillows, some snacks and the perfect seat in the house. Then a friend, my ISO comes over with a pizza and shoves me off the seat :) Damned bastard knows my boring routine by heart. Surrendering to force majeure, I relinquished my seat but I still continued to pelt him with chips.

Damn, they don't make comedies the way they used to. I miss FRIENDS and their insanity. I miss Carrie Bradshaw and her fashionable singleton pals ( and their fabulous Manolos ).

Desperate Plumbing

Had a problem with a leaky roof this morning so I made a call to one of the plumbers. Just a clogged ceiling pipe - with the recent rainstorms, we had all those leaves and what-nots blown onto the roof which clogged up the pipes and the plumber had to clear them. Feel so terribly grown-up, suddenly dealing with bills and plumbers and all that...

But I only have one complaint to make, surely a valid complaint! It was such a terrible letdown for me. Although he dresses much as I imagine they would - in scruffy jeans and a tee, my plumber more closely resembles one of the elderly uncles sitting with their feet up on the seat scratching their portly bellies in the coffeeshops. Hardly the buff, brawny hunks with their tight abs pictured in movies and gay porn - who somehow always come complete with clothing malfunctions and the morals of a stray alleycat. He didn't even offer to let me handle his tools, not that I would have done any such thing.



Why doesn't my plumber resemble any of the guys in Desperate Housewives? :) Just a tenth of James Denton's raw sex appeal would be fine by me. Even a fraction of Jesse Metcalfe's abs would be enough.

Insuring sleep

For all the recent late nights I have been having - catching up with the stack of DVDs, I am definitely paying for it now since I'm ridiculously tired this evening. With my heavy sleep debt, I could barely lift my eyelids earlier. Yes, I was accosted by another straight boy trying to dig his hands into my pants - for my wallet :)

Lately, I seem to be the target of insurance salesmen.. I think I'm definitely carrying some hidden pheromones that attract these odd brand of salespersons - who assume erroneously that I have loads of untapped monies in my wallet ( as a result of my chosen career, no doubt ). As I'm still relatively unskilled in sensing such unprecedented attacks, I was relatively unprepared to receive a cute straight guy from Allianz Bank ( some guy I know vaguely ) - who came knocking on my door this evening to interest me in some endoments or trust fund or some such thing. God, I was barely awake enough to listen to the figures and graphs he shoved in front of my face. Damn, I guess even the sight of his briefs wouldn't have kept me up.

This is a recent development for me. Usually I'm a hopeless insomniac. There are nights when nothing seems to work to get me to sleep. Eschewing pharmacological methods of sedation, I have tried counting sheep ( reached almost 982 at last count - and still didn't fall asleep ), meditation, aromatherapy, unusual foods and drinks before sleep... all sorts of methods actually. I usually end up staring at the ceiling out of boredom.

Musical showtunes

It is possible that I'm slowly morphing into a gay stereotype. As I sneaked a peek at the American Idol series ( yes, the enforced isolation from work is turning me into a serious couch potato! ) where they were going through a Musical-themed night, it soon became apparent to me that most of the finalists hadn't seen any of them! How appalling! :) With the abundance of theaters and halls in America, they should be ashamed of themselves!



To my amazement, I realized that I knew all the musicals they mentioned. God, I even knew the words for most of the songs sung. Yes, I am one of those guys who moonlight as shower karaoke singers ( unlike the renowned Von Trapp Family singers ).

All this stems from the fact that I used to stay up late as a kid on weekend nights catching up on old movies. Old, blurry black-and-whites... the old MGM musicals that used to play repeatedly on the late nights over here. And I danced with the King of Siam, walked down the street where you lived with Freddy and sang in the rain with Gene. Next thing you know, I'm gonna stand up and start singing Hello Dolly from Barbra.

God, I am so gay.

Medical school

Been going through a marathon of DVDs... and I'm wondering why we never actually had such bastards in medical school. The opposite of his moralistic partner in Nip/Tuck, Dr Christian Troy is slick, conniving and just a damned delicious devil. Not only has he bent and twisted every rule in the world, his vaunted morals are as twisted as a pretzel. Where do you find such guys in school? All we had were dull, innocent country boys, overworked, socially-retarded nerds/brains and pure, idealistic martyrs out to save the world.

Perhaps an injection of wickedness might have added more fun to school.

Of course granted that he's fresh out of medical school and still full of innocent ideals, Yummy Yee was appalled at such unethical behaviour and condemned it - all the while trying to shade his eyes from the wicked acts onscreen.

Myanmar men

Disregarding medical advice, I sneaked out for a meal this evening. As usual I went around the corner to one of my favourite beef noodle shops - well, it's actually miles away but I go so often it feels like it's round the block. As usual, I go over there and start flirting with the waiters... dark-skinned, dark-eyed hotties from Myanmar. I don't know how it is but the owners of the shop seem to have imported some of the best-looking men in Myanmar to serve Taiwanese Beef Noodle.

One of the guys... Dark & Delicious... has the most amazing smile, friendly and charming, and as he studied foreign languages in university previously, he speaks English beautifully with the sexiest accent - makes me want to jump his bones. Just the perfect accompaniment to the hot, spicy tang of the beef soup.

Red Eye

Ah, struck down today with red eye. Acute conjunctivitis - that's what my colleague told me which landed me right back home with a stern warning to remain there. :) She promised retribution ( some spanking was involved I believe ) if she even caught me wandering the hospital halls with a red eye. Almost providential in fact as it's given me a chance to avoid going out for dinner with Mormon Gordon after our fateful moment. After all, my eye might still be contagious.

Fortunately enough, I have a whole stack of Nip/Tuck DVDs to finish. Not to mention the Six Feet Under DVDs my ISO brought by knowing my odd tastes. What can I say, he can be sweet when we're not together ( meaning when we're not at each other's throats ).

And if that's not enough for the next few days, thankfully I still have my paints! Nothing like a few days off to get me going - probably gonna start painting the design on the hall credenza.

Latter Day Saints

It has taken me almost a day to get over something weird that happened to last night. And it still boggles the mind even after a phone call from the guy in question.

At the start of this blog, I mentioned coming out to my friends - my schoolmates actually. One of my closest friends.. let's call him Mormon Gordon, he's one of the nicest guys I know. One of the altar boys when we were in school, a really sweet guy with beatific features better suited to someone of the cloth. With his strict religious upbringing and his tight-ass conservative values, it was with some relief that he greeted my pronouncement calmly during our New Year dinner without throwing a small conniption.

Back in school, there was a sad predilection for losing his heart to females of a brainless bimboesque nature but he managed to get over that affliction. Lately I greeted with some pleasure his recent engagement to a Native Sabahan. Has been some time since we talked so it was with some surprise that he asked me out last night for a drink. That Gordon had jitters prior to the wedding didn't surprise me, since he has been a particularly commitment-phobic. What surprised me was the fact that he...drank? Sure, some wine but he drank beer? Since when do Holy Saints drink beer? Gulping in his alcohol manfully, he started getting tipsy - never could hold his drink, that one - and started babbling about his inadequacies and the fact that he was terrified of marriage. Used to such inane nonsense from jittery grooms, I tried my best to allay his fears.

Just about the time I was wishing myself close enough to get run down by a truck, he gave me a tight hug calling me his best friend. Hugs are usual between us since Gordon's a pretty physically affectionate guy - what surprised me was the fact that his hands started... rubbing me all over. It wasn't inadvertent, it wasn't innocent and it went on for some time... and there was a spark. Hey, I'm a man. He's cute. What can I say? I get sparks when cute guys rub against me.

Good guy that I am though, I kept talking to him but kept a safe distance four feet away from him. There has never been anything between us ( really! Nothing, in fact it's almost purely fraternal despite the fact that he looks really good after shedding off his baby fat! ) but at that particular moment, I had to keep myself from jumping on him to tear off his button-down shirt. Before he could tempt me with any more untoward overtures however, I pronounced him drunk, hastily bundled him up into the car and sent him home.

One Dead Pope

Well, the Pope is dead. Had the wake-up call from my friend Gordon actually. Which doesn't actually surprise me or anyone else so why does everyone ( well, most Catholics anyway ) feel so much grief? Come on, the man's really old, and he was probably in a lot of pain from his debilitating illness, and I think it's time to let him go. He has lived a good long time, people, and done everything he set out to do. Life is extremely precious, people, but the Church has also taught us that a better place awaits us at the other end - and it seems that Pope John Paul has received his final calling.
Hardly any cause for overwhelming lament and mourning - unless you're a homosexual and you want to lament the anti-homosexual doctrines of the Catholic church with the return to back-to-basics conservatism but that's something else entirely. Does that sound horribly callous to you?

Perhaps working in the hospital gives you a skewed perception of life... and a horridly morbid sense of humour. Twisted like Six Feet Under which I guess explains my absolute obsession with that series :)

Lazy saturdays

What can I say, I've been bitten by the decorating bug again!

During my trip to Penang, I managed to find my way into a few arts and crafts store - one of my hidden pleasures, I have to admit. It's also one of the things that bore my ISO to bits ( usually force him to move all the furnishings around while I stand and observe ) which is why I haven't done it in a long time. Perhaps I might not be great at the heavy stuff, such as the woodwork and the plumbing, but give me a brush and a stencil, and I can work wonders :) Inspired by the homemaking, interior decorating spirit of Martha Stewart, I purchased a set of paints and brushes to spruce up some of the furniture at home. Just take a look at her site! Doesn't it inspire one to stencil the walls, handmake sweet-smelling wreaths for the door and make a neat peg rack?

Just as I was about to set the gilt edge to a wooden stool, I had a knock on the door in the form of my mother - and a few guests. Why didn't it surprise me that my Machiavellian mother's guests included two lovely Thai girls of a marriageable age? Not intent on browbeating me on the marriage issue, she has decided to bring the matter straight to my doorstep, it seems :) Although she given them the perfect disguise as befuddled tourists, I have seen through her machinations. Contrary to popular belief, I can be the perfect host once I put my mind to it, and I even managed to flirt a little ( what can I say, flirting's fun ).

Obviously I added just a lil too much enthusiasm since they happily insisted on staying another night which has put an end to my plans for a decorating weekend :) Maybe they could help shift the furniture?