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Saturday, April 30, 2005

WHITEtening lotions 

Chinese girls in this part of the world have a funny sort of fascination with being white. And "white" doesn't mean "fair;" it means "white" like a washed out sheet of photocopy paper. Every cosmetic dingle dangle out there in the market promises whitening effects and tacky adverts of ugly girls abound which promise a bleached face like death.

You see, they fail to understand that being "white" suits white people because the pinkish tones in their skins lends better to a healthier overall look; in some cases it actually becomes them to look white. The Chinese, however, have much yellower tones in their skin and, more often than not, being too "white" only results in looking either quite green and reptilian, or sick, like they're suffering a bad case of tyroid.

Also, because most Chinese are cheapskate (or perhaps just oblivious) they only allow themselves a ration of the evil whitening stuff: it goes only on their face, leaving the rest of their neck and body in a differential shades. Dolly's own aunt is famous for turning up at family dinners with her face bleached a deathly white from too much cream-and-foundation, revealing a big ugly line running across her neck where the rest of her natural colour begins.

Often, the Chinese are also terrified of the sun and go to great lengths to avoid getting a tan (they call it "getting dark"). They drive with long-sleeved shirts and gloves, use umbrellas when walking outdoors and slather on SPF45 even while indoors. This leaves them with a distinct deficiency in both sunshine and Vitamin D, making them look even more ill than they already do. Thus, the white-and-ill look sees a double-whammy effect: Firstly, a chemically-induced "whiteness" bleaches out any sense of colour in the skin and secondly, the lack of any sunshine turns them sallow and washed-out.

Poor darlings - they do so think they are beautiful. Somebody must tell them that the white ideal found in a large series L'oreal products isn't half as attractive as the healthier, glowing alternative gotten from free sunshine. Personally, Dolly prefers a bit of a tan and thinks the whitening thing is all quite funny. She spends many a rewarding afternoon spotting the number of girls whose bleached faces don't correspond to the rest of their "dark" bodies - makes for great coffee conversation. Anyway, we could always do with more ugly, ill-looking people in the world - it makes the rest of us tanned beauties all the more stunning.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

WHITE: Bliss 

There is something very much like the sensation of an orgasm in a sneeze, don't you all think? This makes life just that little bit more bearable for girls who are oft prone to sinus problems like Dolly. Itchy, bloodshot eyes are something else to reckon with though.

Monday, April 25, 2005


Dolly would love a BMW Z4. Her father's driver pointed out a Z5 to her today which isn't as nice but it would do. She said, "Aiyo, damn cute lah. I want!"

So driver said, "Pinjam lah."

"Pinjam from who?"

"That guy lah. The one driving." (He has a strange sense of humour like that)

Dolly and driver came to the conclusion that she must find herself a dateable boy with a Z4 who will let her pinjam whenever she wants. It was the only way.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

YELLOW: Lazy Sunday 

Dolly has been feeling most unmotivated the past week. The only thing she has been motivated about is going to the gym and bouncing around until she can't breathe.

The rest of the time has been spent evading work and finding excuses not to go to the shitty library at UM (Malaysia's premier university - HAH! tell me another). She still cannot get over the fact that there is a dress code at UM - nothing above the knee, nothing revealing a midriff, cleavage, shoulders or arms and no cute sandals. This is on top of the very large no smoking sign that greets you as you enter campus grounds and that segregation of sexes between different dorms. Dolly tuts in sympathy for the poor students there who will obviously never have the chance to really live while at university.

Anyway, she digresses... Ah yes, lack of motivation. As a researcher/writer normal days of the week don't really apply. Which means that technically, weekends should also be spend working if weekdays were spent playing. This doesn't apply to Dolly who ends up taking every day as a playing day and definitely does no work on the weekends.

Today, Sunday, she had plans to wake up early to go for a weightlifting class, head to the library and then make it back in time to go for a Dharma class. She ended up sleeping in and woke up only in time for lunch (had a ham sandwich). She then talked on the phone with the boy for while - he was off to the shooting gallery so rung off when he friends came round to pick him up. Dolly ended up lounging about in bed again and fell asleep. When she woke up, she continued lolling about between the sheets, spending a few hours reading Vogue and Haruki Murakami, listening to an old Miles Davis CD and eating expensive chocolates.

She went out to dinner with her mother where she gorged herself stupid on tempura prawns, then hopped across to Bangsar Shopping Centre where she spent RM22 on trashy magazines, refilled her chocolate box and is now settling in to an evening of more senseless reading.

We all have our indulgences... Dolly's friends and especially her father are forever grumbling at her about her iredeemably lazy trait. They claim she is dulling her mind and wasting youth. She justifies it by saying that it has never stopped her from getting ahead in life or doing the things she wants; and despite the endless sleeping hours she has achieved everything she has wanted to and exceeded even her own expectations (And has even managed to lose weight in the past month).

Off to idle, my darlings. Have a lovely week ahead x x x

Friday, April 22, 2005

BLACK: Boss 

It was an oversight on the part of Dolly to have taken up a job where her boss would be one of her father's old friends. It makes it that much more difficult for her to be her smart-ass lippy self in meetings because of that extra irritating respect thing that everyone Chinese kid is brainwashed into having towards their parents' acquaintances.

It doesn't help either that Boss is not the easiest of people to work with. Not that he's difficult; he's quite an accommodating sort of person actually, but is incredibly highly strung and suffers an acute case of ADD that wears out everyone else around him. Every Friday, Dolly and the other research assistants gather all the way over in Putrajaya for long extended 2 - 4 hour meetings, where Boss dominates the entire discussion with endless soliloquys on his ex-girlfriends, his trips to Europe, how much he hates the Americans/British/Jewish/Singaporeans and the conspiracy theories of the world. He wears oversized glasses and oversized mustard-coloured suits which, if you might imagine, makes it very difficult for anyone to really take him seriously.

Dolly's colleagues pretend that they don't enjoy these meetings and that they can't bear Boss's long monologues. In actual fact, Dolly is sure they are all secretly in love with him because at every meeting they are perched eagerly on the edges of their seat, egging him on with very interested questions about his life and laughing at all his ridiculous jokes.

The other thing about having a boss who is a family friend is that you tend to know more about their personal life than is comfortable, especially when what you do know about him is that he's a big fat greasy sleazeball. The other day, Boss dragged everyone out for lunch. After the teppanyaki had sizzled to a stop, someone asked him what he thought of extra marital affairs (it was tempting, perhaps, as he talks incessantly about women, girlfriends and affairs). He gave a long lame discourse on how it wasn't considered cheating as long as there was no love.

Dolly doesn't want to judge others' concepts of cheating or relationships but she does think that people should at least walk their talk. She knows from her father that it is common knowledge among social circles that Boss, in fact, has a second wife and teenage son. Dolly wonders if in fact, this constitutes 'cheating' on the first wife? And if so, then wasn't this long 1/2 hour justification on momentary affairs just utter crap? She sat back in her chair and rolled her eyes quietly behind the eager backs of the other people all leant forward to listen to his justifications for 'cheating'. The long spiel on "meaningfuless affairs" and how he was being so very good to his first wife was just so very tired.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

WHITE: Bodies 

Dolly herself has fairly short legs and spends much time tottering on high heels to create the illusion of longer calves. Then the other day she saw a girl with legs long enough to make the whole world envious. But then... she noticed that in fact, this girl was all legs and only legs. It was like her legs came up to her neck and you could strangle her with her own knees. It was quite unsightly and made Dolly sigh a sigh of relief for her short (though perhaps more proportionate) legs.

This made her start looking more closely at people with long legs. This does sound like a deeply ingrained habit of sour grapes developed at a young age, but Dolly must point out to you that there are quite a lot of people (girls, mainly) out there with very long, very shapely legs to kill for, but a torso the size of a stump. It can look quite unbecoming and awkward on some.

This threw up another question: Which looks odder? A short torso and disproportionately long legs; or short legs and disproportionately long torso?

Well, it's not the most complicated conundrum of the year but a fun one to ponder as we reconsider what we find most desirable in others. ie. long legs are not always what they're cut out to be, perhaps, especially not if the rest of you looks like a stork. Dolly is paving the way for short legs to storm fashion runways of the future.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005


Good god! Remember Dolly's post a few days ago about wanting fingers down her panties? (Sorry, don't know how to do the fancy link thing).

She didn't know it would be possible but she's actually found a blog entry on Rentboy Diaries that's rather satisfied the cravings. Now, that really is the way to do it. A girl's cravings must be satiated, after all!

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

PINK: Storybooks 

Dolly has decided to throw of the shackles of a past life and start a new one. She decided that she would start by redecorating - this entails ripping out all the horrid inbuilt furniture that was put in 12 years ago, reorganising where everything goes and starting all anew. And so the past two days have been spent furrowing through drawers, shelves and hidden compartments to unearth everything she's accumulated since age 11 and throwing away the baggage.

But hey, spring cleaning - especially after this long a time - exceeds just the dusting of shelves and throwing away of unwanted birthday presents from distant friends. Almost inevitably, spring cleaning will always throw up memories that make your heart recoil (in delight or sheer shame), just like the corny flashbacks they have on movies. Today, for example, Dolly found her diaries from university days. Mostly there are just boring notes about meetings, essay deadlines and birthdays; but also, during a particularly lucid period, the joyous scribblings of a silly 20-year-old about this boring party, that great party, that cute guy, falling in love - that sort of thing. It made Dolly chuckle and roll her eyes at younger idealistic herself.

She also found love letters (okay, not really - emails that were printed out), several loose condoms scattered about her stationery drawer (bonus!), a stickerbook and hideous photos of her ugly fat teenage self (sent her into a small bout of depression the rest of the day). The highlight of the afternoon was a rediscovery of her entire well-preserved collection of Sweet Valley books. This is cringeworthy - Dolly takes a big risk in even admitting that she used to read Sweet Valley Twins and its more grown-up version, Sweet Valley High, least of all own two drawerfuls of the books.

Dolly put aside a few minutes to reread one of them and relived the days when she was 10 and the highest aspiration was to be like the Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield. She couldn't help but scoff at herself and at the sheer crap of what she was (re)reading. On hindsight, Sweet Valley definitely contributed to stunting her intellectual growth between the ages of 10 and 12, and has probably had a damaging knock-on effect thereafter, even when she stopped reading them. (Eventually, Dolly decided to buck up and exchanged underdeveloped chick lit for the more serious pursuit of a literature MA - and even then, just ended up theorising Vogue).

However, as full as crap as it is, Dolly has fond memories of the time and effort spent scouring bookshops to amass this grand collection of candy-coloured volumes. It's something to be proud of in much the same way that sticker collections form an integral part of many girs' childhoods; you can't help but remember the funny sort of seriousness that those silly passions had at the time.

It feels rather a shame to give them away, all 200+ volumes plus limited special editions...

Sunday, April 17, 2005

YELLOW: Being contented 

There are many things for a girl to be contented with which don't necessarily cost time, effort or that much money. Today, as Dolly was driving around PJ (not very exciting, she knows, but it is a Sunday after all) she found herself purring cosily as she took in that nice after-rain feeling of comfort in the air and the dusky trail of evening sun bouncing off the bonnet of her car. KL and the Klang Valley is an exceptionally fun place to drive around on a Sunday - roads are wide, traffic is sparse and there's always something interesting to see. Bad road planning makes for terrible spaghetti junctions and roads that go nowhere but it also makes for a great spin for a Sunday afternoon just when you're feeling lethargic.

(You know the traffic and the drivers in a place are getting bad when you get excited about driving on empty Sunday roads).

There was a tacky 70s CD in her car stereo. Singing along to Night Fever and More than a woman makes any drive fun; the BeeGees cures any form of loneliness. And lastly, just before going home, Dolly stopped off to buy yow char guai - fresh, hot and greasy enough to choke an artery. There's often satisfaction enough in eating tasteless fried dough, isn't there?

And so, next time you're feeling that awful shade of navy blue they put on suits, having one of those miserable weekends of self-loathing, take note that there are few pleasures that compare to driving around in empty Sunday traffic, listening to cheesey dance music and eating oily bread sticks.

Saturday, April 16, 2005

Names to fall in love with (in no particular order lest Dolly be accused of biasness)


BLUE: Lonely 

This freelance/research thing sometimes means that Dolly ends up playing while everyone is out working and working when everyone else is sleeping or out playing. Which is why she is sitting here feeling really rather pathetic on a Friday night trying to write an article about libraries (she's such a serious writer!).

There were plans to go out but friends were stuck at work until late, other friends were down with week-long migraines and cousins were held captive in Klang by their laziness. So Dolly has had to resort to listening to Hint and trying very hard to get through that freaky Alice in Wonderland computer game (she's just as bad at it as she remembered being 4 months ago)... in between her hard work, of course.

There are moments when the old geek from yonder puberty days makes a guest appearance. Tonight is one of them.

Friday, April 15, 2005

PINK: Blushes 

Just the other day Thai Boxing Girl (formerly known as X) and Dolly were catching up on rubbish talk and gossip over MSN again and TBG started talking about other KL bloggers who she knew and met up with regularly. She pointed out rather glibly that in fact, Dolly had quite a little following of admirers among these other bloggers. Dolly was all *blush blush* over the other side of MSN and then wondered what they possibly thought of her (same goes too for readers who hate her!).

Which recalled to mind a little discussion over at Rentboy Diaries (do read - he's hot and hilarious), a few days back about how truthful or 'ourselves' we are over our blogs: the masks we use and the embellishments we make to the memories we have or the stories we tell. Does being anonymous let us be more truthful about ourselves and what we do? Or are we more inclined to hide behind a character and spin out yarns of fiction? Perhaps a bit of both?

And what about the readers? Do they get caught up in the mask = truth thing and think it's all literal and real? Or do readers nod their heads sagely in acknowledgement of fiction and take it with a pinch of salt? For starters, there are far too many readers out there who take blogs too literally and get far too excited about it for their own good. Shweet Young Thing for example, is having to fight off a huge moralistic debate going on over at her place, headed by a sad man who's getting far too riled up over the moral implications and well being of her sexual escapades. Oh dear. Dolly herself has had hilarious run-ins with readers who get unduly irritated, almost offended by the vacuous persona of her blog (no really, she is actually this shallow so get over it!)

Bottom line is, nobody can really figure you out through a blog. The only ones that are true-to-life and reflect entirely, honestly about the writer are the truly boring ones that give point-by-point accounts of what they had for dinner and the very long conversation they had with their best friend about their boyfriend while eating at that-place-in-town. The mask thing is more fun, definitely, and gives the reader a chance to imagine you into being, what they'd like you to be - good or bad, true or not. Readers only get snippets of a blogger and his life from the writing so they may as well fill in the blanks with their own fantasies/happy imaginings/frustrations/general bitter views with the world. The conflicting mishmash of perceptions that readers out there have of you would be a funny one to sit down and find out about.

Anyway, what were we talking about? Ah, yes... Dolly's growing host of admiring KL fans. She hasn't yet amassed enough of a following who hate her (for you know you've really made it when people start bashing you) but is working on it - there must be many more intellectuals out there who cannot bear such nonsense! She thought it might be fun to meet these darlings for real, sign a few autographs, kiss a few cheeks, you know... then decided that that would only spoil the illusion. It is much more fun to be admired (or scorned) from afar - leaves more for the imagination which, as this whole post has been about, is always more exciting than real life.

In the meantime, thanks for the flowers and for reading. *Wipes a tear and curtseys*

Thursday, April 14, 2005

PINK: Bottom 

Dolly has been trying to figure out the best way of taking flattering photos of her bum and posting them all over her blog.

.......No, not really. Don't get too excited just yet.

From what Dolly has seen on her whistlestop tour through a blogland however, that does seem rather the way forward in upping the traffic on your blog and gaining points in the blogger popularity contest. HAH! She's in a quandry now as to whether she should just keep writing naf rubbish or heavy up the tacky toll of this blog by adding gratuitous shots of body parts in an attempt to be... ohhh..... so artistic.

She's getting so trivial and so adept at wasting good time that she's even starting to make herself sick.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

WHITE: Rings 

It's quite distressting: Dolly and the boy have recently had to contend with a barage of questions of the marriage sort. It's the furthest thing from their mind, she can assure you - they like to think there's still plenty of things to be done before settling down. They've only just hit their mid-twenties after all! There's much to be won and lost before saying vows and painting the picket fence.

The other day, ss they were bemoaning the incessant stream of enquiry into their marital status, they got onto the subject of rings. Diamonds are overrated. Dolly cannot bear stupid girls who gush and coo over diamonds and bloody big rocks: it's so dull and, she thinks, reflects how very unoriginal the girl and her notions of love are.

The other day she was talking to a friend about how, if she really, absolutely had to have a ring she would want something that was different. "Yaaaaahlah!" agreed the primmest, most demanding, high maintenance girlfriend any boy could imagine. "Solitaire is so boring lah. At least you want a different cut, you know, like baguette cut or heart-shaped or...."

She went on and on while Dolly chortled into her drink. She didn't even know these sorts of cuts existed. A rock is a rock is a rock, no? She rolled her eyes skyward toward the Petronas Towers and said, "No, no, no, no, no, no! I don't even mean that. No bloody diamonds! Something different like big, pink and plastic or a mad thing from a flea market." Miss Prim tried very hard to conceal her distaste.

Dolly repeated this to the boy and trying hard not to make references to the M word, did point out how, if she absolutely had to do the ring thing (and it was in no way a must to complete her life) a big plastic bauble, dusted with cheap paint is so much more endearing than Tiffany's. It would be much more personal and Dolly-oriented than something every other unoriginal engaged girl would be toting on her fourth finger... even if it did only cost AUD$2.

"Aren't you the luckiest boy in the world that your girl likes something so very cheap and easily available!?" she whooped down the phone.

He agreed and after a pause asked if, in fact, she also liked onion rings. Of course she does! and so they chuckled merrily about the possible new trend of proposals over a bag of onions. (Burger King does the best).

RED: Little devils 

The other day, the boy came up close to Dolly and, bundling her in a hug, stroked her hair and told her how much he loved her. "You're such a good person," he cooed... At which point Dolly felt she couldn't be so deceptive and let someone who loved her so much think she was a darling. She can't seem to lie, she just can't.

So she confessed that, just the other day, she scrubbed someone's toothbrush in the toilet after they had pissed her off.

He was appalled, told her he thought it vindictive and immature and that he didn't want her to ever do something like that again.

Dolly tried nodding in between fits of hysterical laughing and gasps of acknowledgment that it really was spiteful, pointless, immature and mean. She admits it was a nasty thing to do, but it did feel entirely satisfying at the time. And more importantly, she recommends it to you all as an antidote to pacifying your anger of the moment.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

WHITE: Birthday cake 

Ho ho! Dolly has only just realised that she'd missed Dolly Mixture's first birthday, which was two weeks ago. Oh my, it's been a whole year! Just for old times' sake she went back and had a read of the first few entries and decided she's come quite a way since then: it was really quite awful when she first started.

Anyway, there's cake in the parlour and plenty of champagne to toast in another brand new year of blogging and mischief. Thanks to everyone who's kept reading and turning her on.

YELLOW: Warm people 

There are people out there to whom everyone flocks to. You know them: people want to sleep with them, be their best friends, hang out with them, have them on their speeddial, be them. Yesterday evening, the boy was telling Dolly about a friend he recently met up with for coffee who he described as "disarming; she really knows how to get to know people" and said he could understand how his best friend had been smitten with her for years.

It got Dolly thinking about what makes someone so charming, so delightful that you want to wrap them up in muslin and take them home; it also made her take a good hard long critical look at how (un)sociable she was or could be. The thing is, she reckons, that the most charming of people take a decided and heartfelt interest in the things that you're saying: they really do (or are adept in feigning that they do) want to know what you think about the recent rise in bankcruptcy or your strange interest in bacteria They have the uncanny ability to resist wrangling your wine glass out of your hand and pouring its contents on you when small talk gets unbearable - in fact, they rather thrive on Small Talking.

Dolly, on the other hand, can't bear it and she hasn't yet developed the art of being sincere and kind. If you're boring her with your talk on conspiracy theories, she can't help but look bored - her eyes start flitting over your shoulder at the more interesting looking boy across the room or she just stops talking, often without even realising she's stopped. Mostly, she finds it easier to fill the time with the thoughts in her own head than engage in conversation she doesn't care about. She tries to justify this by claiming that it's more honest this way, for it is against her high sense of morality to be insincere and pretentious... Whatever... mostly, it's just because mostly she just can't be bothered.

She's also of the opinion that if you don't click with someone in the first 10 minutes, it's unlikely you're going to have fascinating conversations the rest of the evening. Dolly already has fabulous friends wherever she goes, whatever she's doing, and time is too short to waste on trying to figure out someone boring. (Conversely, if she takes a liking to you and finds you fascinating, you won't be able to get her to shut up. She'll want to take you home and talk at you for hours.)

That's not to say that Dolly thinks ill of people who do make that splendid effort of taking an interest in talking to any, and everyone. She admires it thoroughly in fact, but the whole old dogs, new tricks thing... yah, it gets rather in the way and Dolly is content with the well-ingrained habit of being a snob. She likes to think it adds to her charm. And from what she hears through her well-established web of grapevines, it seems to work. People, apparently (cough) think she's very lovable: the boy's family and friends adore her; mothers in their 40s try to matchmake her to their fabulous sons; and strange people enquire about her randomly through her friends.

So there you go, no need for aimless conversation and that tiring effort of being interested. Just shut up and look adorable. Women are to be seen and not heard. *chuckle*

Monday, April 11, 2005

BROWN: A weekend away 

KL has no beautiful place to escape to for the weekends - nothing like the New Yorker's Hamptoms or a Londoner's country house in the New Forest to which one goes to recuperate from the toils of being in the city. KL has Port Dickson, to which one goes to for illicit affairs and beaches littered in oil.

Still, Dolly and 7 friends trooped off there for a night. They found two apartments to rent for the night, something one of them found through an ad in the papers (they should have known better...). The directions for getting there were, "When you get to the Mobile station, count for twenty seconds then turn right." They counted to twenty and missed the bloody junction. After a perilous U-turn, they were back on track. How exciting! they thought. It was secluded and idyllic, but as they trundled down a badly paved road they would soon see a dilapidated block of flats, badly in need of paint. They turned in, roaring hilariously at dinginess of their chosen accommodation. It was a moment where that hint of Paris Hilton that resides in everyone reared to the fore and barked in disdain (The Simple Life, indeed! How fun it is sometimes to be the condescending urban dweller descending upon simple folk).

They had to wait for one of the apartments to be vacated as there were still other tenants there. When they rocked up in a raucous rumble, they saw a couple emerging from the apartment, looking furtive and dodgy. Ah well, Dolly and friends nodded silently to each other, this was definitely a place of hidden affairs, or the dream holiday getaway for those with hideous standards. They would soon discover two delightfully fresh condoms left in an ashtray, a bathroom that resembled the public toilets that were frighfully featured in Dolly's distorted recurrent dreams, a bed that folded someone in half when they laid on it and a swimming pool that contained incredibly chalky water.

It was gross and grotty but made for hysterical laughing for hours - they had made peace with the fact that this was PD and everything there would always be slightly off-the-mark. They would have been disappointed it if wasn't. They made up for it by stuffing junk food down their greedy little mouths all weekend, watching tacky programmes on 8TV and running around trying to expose each other's underwear. There were also ghost stories (which scared everyone), meaningful girly conversations about sex (which made everyone horny) and friendships bonded over tubs of icecream and cheap tasteless cake.

Ah, the simple life...

Friday, April 08, 2005

RED: Sangria 

Dolly went drinking in town today which is something she hasn't done in a long time since she's started turning into an old lady. It was terribly exciting - it was like she'd been brought out from a cupboard and fully dusted off of dustballs.

She was at Qba which was disappointing for the disproportionate number of cute girls and terribly ugly old sleazy men (that's to be expected in most places in KL anyway. The darling hot boys are all hiding themselves). She did, however, spot a most splendid man in a pink shirt who bore a frightening resemblance to darling Honeytom. Unfortunately he seemed rather deep in conversation with another man, who also bore a striking resemblance to Dolly's ex. He seemed rather too good to be too straight. It was a moment of confusion but Dolly felt lustful nonetheless and her heart did a little flutter for the rediscovery of another Honeytom all the way out here in the East.

She thought she might go up to him and say, "Hello, you bear a striking resemblance to one of my best friends - you don't happen to be gay do you? No? Oh splendid! Take me out dancing!" But he seemed inseparable from the other guy, and Dolly didn't quite get up the nerve before he suddenly disappeared.

Anyway, the upside is that Dolly has rediscovered the joy of going out. Having been stuck at home working at strange hours of the night, she's rather forgotten what it means to be a social butterfly. Going out for silly nights and wine spritzers must be added to her list of new year's resolutions: if anyone fancies taking her our for a twirl and a drunken glass of sangria, do send a pretty embossed invitation her way.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

BLUE: Yoga mat 

Dolly has started a set of new year's resolutions even if there are three months overdue. She reckons it's never too late to start them, never too late to start being a better person blah blah.

Top of the list is a bid to loosen her hamstrings by doing endless amounts of stretching with her propped up against her desk like a ballerina. The competitive streak inside Dolly hates it when she is not the most flexible girl in her yoga class so she is in a bid to turn herself into a pretzel. It would make for more interesting positions in the bedroom too perhaps, although right now she's making the effort just for the sake of showing off and attaining that airy fancy feeling of feeling light and bendy.

Also, 100 kegels a day. This has been an ongoing promise for months but never quite happens because she can never remember to do them; and when she does, she can't make it past about 20. She is considering putting up large post-its in her car to remind her to kegel kegel kegel! when at a traffic light or stuck in endless KL traffic. Trips to Bukit Bintang would become rewarding for the tight PC muscles she would develop from being stuck in Jalan Imbi.

Wake up before 9. This hasn't worked at all unless Dolly's had meetings to attend. Instead of getting up early to work when she has her mornings free, she dozes obliviously until 11, then rolls out in time for lunch. The rest of the day is spent in panic, acute stress that she has so much work to finish and not enough time. Her own fault really, but try telling that to her at 8 in the morning. Nothing seems so important before 11 as finishing off that last instalment of dreams.

Do a face mask (masque?) once a week so the pores on her face will close permanently and the community of blackheads move to another neighbourhood.

So there we go - a girl must have High Aspirations in life! If you can think of other ways for Dolly to improve her already rather charmed life, do drop a note.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

RED: Mary Poppins... 

... is on telly! Julie Andrews, flying tea-parties, magic carpet bags and pink merry-go-round horses. And childhood favourites are always fun to watch for the sarcastic witticisms that you never understood when you were 6.

The most amusing part though - the children's mother, a suffragette fighting for the women's vote in 1910 who sings this about men: "Though we adore men individually, We agree that as a group they're rather stupid!"

Delightful, no? Sharp!

YELLOW: Hokkien-lang 

Nothing in the past six months has got Dolly laughing so hard to herself as this, a blog written entirely in hokkien. It won't make a lot of sense if you don't speak it but if you do, it's worth a tremendous giggle. (Dolly doesn't speak Hokkien well at all and was still chuckling for hours).

Grandmother will be so proud that Dolly's found something hokkien to learn from.

PINK: Desires 

She knows she's said this before, but good god the stirrings are strong today: Sometimes a girl just wants her nipples licked and someone else's fingers down her panties.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

BROWN: Good things come in small packages 

As a child, small greedy Dolly would always pick the largest presents out of the lucky draw box and always, somehow, ended up with the crap presentl; she learnt early on that the best things come in the smallest packages. Some of you may have read her previous account of how she adores having a boy the same size as her and she'd like to reiterate the point that she does so love small boys.

Oh stop it! she knows what you're thinking. Small does not mean children, underaged or under-endowed). Also, not that there's anything wrong with tall boys or large boys (and she certainly doesn't mean to offend people who prefer bigger lads.) She's chanced upon many large, tall boys who she's fallen rather desperately in love with before. It's just that right now, Dolly prefers them about the same size as her. This may have to do with the fact that boys in Malaysia seldom make it past the 5'8" mark anyway, so she has had to readjust her fancies.

You see, the trick about small boys is not just to fall in love with every small squirrel that flitters past. The point is to discover what the package contains... Looks can be deceiving, as you well know; a preemptory glance at a small boy may just show you a, well... small looking, nondescript boy. What is fun, is realising that within the smallness is a reasonably hefty package of deliciously toned biceps, a pert bum, well-hung bits and bobs (yes, that can be important) or generally a great solid, chunky body overall.

And so, Dolly presents to you a small sampling of small boys:

- Dolly's boy is the smallest of his three brothers, but definitely the most adorable - all the goodness compressed and compact into a handy little package, almost the same size as Dolly. He's very much like a gummi bear in the way they're small but strong little buggers full of magic.

- Dharmaboy who Dolly has had a most desirous crush on - he is the sort that never quite grew out of that stage of knobbly-knees. He is seemingly small and frail under overwashed Calvin and Hobbes tshirts (yes, she knows, it is very unlike Dolly to like something or someone so very unglamorous). Then one day he rocked up in a sleeveless t-shirt and Dolly's lusty loins did a little jump when she saw that he possesed, in fact, the most splendid arms. The skinny-facade was just a red herring, meant to throw amourous girls like Dolly off the tract of a rather desirable physique.

- Dolly has recently discovered a BodyCombat class at the gym with an instructor the size and power of a cili-padi. He's so small you're afraid you might step on him but like most small boys has the might and energy of a small explosive. As Dolly kicks her ungainly way through a heavy hour of cardio and bad techno music, she imagines what small powerful punchy hyperactive boys like that are like in bed.

That last point actually applies to all small boys. The pursuit of small boys could of course, backfire and you discover that they are in fact just puny lifeless little bastards. Usually, members in this camp of small boy know they're rather lacking and try to make up for it by being extra loud, obnoxious and generally unlikeable. It's your luck really, much like the lucky draw.

BLACK&WHITE: Comments are on! 

It's been quite quiet in Dolly's world of late. She didn't quite like the life of one-sided conversations so she's put back the comments box for everyone to add their two pence worth (and/or throw the proverbial egg at her). So say something!

Monday, April 04, 2005

PINK: Fantasy 

Much truth is discussed over MSN - the in-betweeness and idling that comes with having your chat switched on while at work. It is always easier to air one's chest while typing than speaking - no worrying about what the tone of your voice reveals, or the blushes that might arise (this can always work to a disadvantage when sentences are misintepreted, but you really have no-one to blame but yourself for ill-chosen words).

Anyway, when Dolly was online with X the other day, the talk swung around (as it quite often does) to masturbation, which led to an interesting discussion of what one thought or didn't think of during playtime. X said she didn't think of anything, and just focused on the pleasure. Dolly was all, "What? you mean no stories?" but was intrigued by the thought of a new technique to take on board.

But the story thing: Dolly can't help it. She grew up on stories - bedtime stories, many of them! self-created tales told to an imaginary friend; incredible lies told just for the fun of creating a tale; the embellishment of minor incidents into the most fabulous fabula. Naturally, this carries into sex (you must all have learnt by now that mostly everything finds a way back to sex). Formulating sex scenarious over the limited space of text messages is incredible fun, for example - Dolly adores it, both receiving and sending.

But that's another story. We were talking about masturbation, weren't we? Yes, and a good story is always good for getting the juices flowing. Dolly imagines that the stories in her head function in much the same way that porn does for most others: (imaginary) visual stimulus accompanies physical stimulus to double the joy. Sex-for-real is great for the immediacy and the intimacy of touch of course, but being on your own allows for the creations of alter-stories that you wouldn't mind figuring in as the star, no matter how tacky. You know, pretending in your head that you're 16 again and having sex on the teacher's table, that sort of thing. Silly no? But such fun for the impossibility of it ever happening, seeing as Dolly is now 24.

The advantage of stories-in-your-head is that you're directing everything all the time, so you can jump to all your favourite bits and favourite positions without the hassle of compromising for the other person(s). A chance to be entirely selfish and be rewarded by it too. A vibrator is entirely selfless, bless!

She does wonder about X's method but imagines it would be hard to keep her mind blank. That being-in-the-moment thing seems too Buddhist zen for Dolly's flighty distracted mind. She is much better suited to thinking of something, or someone. And everyone loves a good story, after all. Formulating stories seems a convenient way of killing the two proverbial birds with a hefty big orgasm: you get extra excitement in your head and a chance to exercise your creative skills. Indeed! all the more reason to get out the dildos.

*Pray do tell though, what it is you are all thinking off while off in your own little playland? Dolly is intrigued and wants to hear stories.

Sunday, April 03, 2005

BROWN: Simple pleasures 

Often, there is nothing nicer than lying about in bed eating chocolate and talking to the boy on the phone.

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