Monday, August 20, 2012

I'm on sale... and other embarrassing moments this week (And its only Mon)

So not too long after I posted about my embarrassing incident with hot doc in Thailand, and managed to crack everyone up in the process of course, I went on to prove that seriously. My life probably deserves its own #fml page.

I think there was a time I did contribute quite a fair bit to that page. Must go dig it out for more stories I can regale you guys with.

BUT, first of all. Just this last Saturday, I had yet another appointment with the police at the Cantonment station. (Don't ask- long story- and not quite funny either. But, don't worry. It's all good in the hood.)

Meanwhile, my mom had to pop over to SGH, just across the road to pick up medication. Since it was raining, we figured she could pick me up after I was done with her meds, and me with my report. We would both take about 30 mins each. Easy peasy. Right?

Not in Sara's life.

About 1 hour later from the time my mom dropped me off at the station... I got into the car, cheeks flushed with same, going "MOMMMYYYY.. I'm SO embarrassed."

"Why Honey?" she asked.

You know how parents are when they have to wait for you?

Well. My mom finished in less than 30 mins. So about every 5 mins while I was still busy in the station. She kept texting me. (I sometimes miss the days when she couldn't figure sms out.) And while I was still finishing up the report- I got the nag call.

Yeah. You know the one.

"Why am I waiting so long for you. If I had known you are taking so long I would have..."

Yup. That really annoying one. When technically, it is all her phone calls and texts that are hindering my process.

So I was already a bit harried when I rushed out of the station. I had to collect my camera too. Which, btw, might I add, was strange. You get into the station and they screen your bags, took my sony point-and-shoot digital camera with the explanation "Sorry miss, no cameras allowed inside" and did the huge song and dance routine with me filling up forms etc to leave my camera in their care while I was inside. But they let me bring my polaroid camera in. I ...... do not get their logic.

Anyway, I digress. I had to collect my camera from the bumbling, but very nice and polite officers. While my mom was still blasting me with texts ,
 I am just across the road from the station.
Waiting in the car. Why so long?!

So I rushed out of the police station, dashed across the road in the rain in a hurry- and in my dishevelled state, ran to the car and opened the door.

And tried again.

And again.

And again.

And it was still locked.

By now I had tried so many times I was pretty annoyed with my mom. I mean, what kind of stunt was she trying to pull. I know I was late. But goodness. It was raining, and just stop listening to music or fiddling with your phone. I mean... If you call so many times, and have been waiting THAT long.. open up the damn door woman!!!!


So I started knocking pretty angrily on the window..

And then... I looked at the shotgun seat.


My mom had done quite a lot of shopping in the hour I was busy. And.. did they really sell airfryers in the hospital too? And why was she so messy... She always bitches about me being messy.. I should totally nag her.. AH HA, I got you now...

And I leaned down.. about to yell through the windows...

When I saw a terrified middle-aged man...

Who probably just saw me run across the road out of the police station.

And looked like I was about to either hijack his car to run away, or possibly steal his new airfryer.

My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and with my non-waterproof mascara that definitely did not stand up to even the mild drizzle I just braved.......

I am pretty sure he thought I was a crazy. Because I sure looked it.

And there I saw her.

Well. Not her per se.

But my mom's black car.

Just in front of a van that pulled out as my brain finally connected and puzzle pieces fell in, and I gave an apologetic salute and scurried off.

Well. To be fair. The man zoomed right off thereafter as well. Probably thanking his lucky stars.


I just succeeded in giving a poor middle-aged man a heart attack.
Thank goodness we were near a hospital.

Fortunately, Sunday wasn't that bad for me. Luck improved a smidge.
Did I mention.. I got new hair?

Yup. Electric blue/turqoise extensions. They. ARE. AWESOME.

And, as any fashionista worth her salt would tell you. New hair = New wardrobe. D-UH!

So, along with debuting my hair on Sunday in church, I naturally cracked out something from my "new" drawer.

Yes. I have a drawer full of clothes that are new, that are saved to "premiere" or make their maiden debut at special occasions. I even have a drawerful of new undies for that too. (Btw, mind out of the gutter peeps. See previous story on my belief on always wearing nice underwear. )

New hair is definitely a good time to crack out a new outfit. Not enough for something fancy, but enough for something... "Sunday slack". So I picked a white ruffle trimmed dress that would further offset my new "I-fought-with-a-peacock-and-I-won" hairdo.

I went to church feeling pretty good about myself. Getting up on time despite the late night. Making it to church so I could chalk up my JC points. New kickass hair. Yeah. Feeling good.

Then close to when service was over.

And mind you. We've been sitting in church for about.. two and a half hours now.

My mom reaches to the back of my neck and tugs.

"What are you doing mom?" I asked, slightly annoyed, in what I term a church whisper.

"You've had your tag out.." she said as she yanked again.

"Just tuck it back in la," I said irritably, assuming it was just the dress label.

But no...

Now, in my mom's hands, the whole PRICE LABEL.

$29 dollars on sale for $5.



Thank goodness my mom yanked off before we went for lunch.

In Joo Chiat.


Friday, August 17, 2012

3 jabs. 2 days of bedrest. 1 cute doc. Only in Bangkok

So I started this label "Sara Ann K: Comedy Channel for the gods" because no one really ever believes the things that happen to me.

Either I am a bonefide jinx, am a walking magnet for drama and disaster, or just damn suay la. But over and above my generally clumsy klutz-like self, the things that have happened in my life sometimes seem SO fantastic, that they often seem untrue. So I have decided that documenting them, might actually be better.

Take for example, this shining example, that happened not too long ago. Last week in fact.

I was on a trip to Bangkok, that was meant to be a solo sojourn to rest my weary soul. The plan was, around National Day (9th of August in Singapore) my friends would fly up to join me, and we would all have a whale of a time together.

One week of my solo story went without incident, but on the day I was supposed to check out of my beautiful, plush hotel away from the city (The Siam), into the Four Seasons, where my friends and I were to reside for the next few days, I started feeling really queasy and nauseous.

During the 40min cab ride into town, I felt progressively worse and by the time I reached The Four Seasons, I knew something was seriously wrong.

My body was aching all over that I could hardly move. I felt feverish. My stomach felt strange and I just felt more ill than even when I had a bout of stomach flu. (Which, any fashionista worth her salt would tell you, is worth suffering through for the weight loss alone. And no. Kids. That was not good advice. Duh. Though true it might be. )

While I was checking in, I felt so faint I could barely stand, so I requested to be seated to rest for a while, hoping that I would feel better.

But, half an hour later, I felt even worse, and before I knew it, I was being wheelchaired into my room.

Four and a half hours later, that was exactly how housekeeping found me. Semi-conscious, dehydrated. Unable to move. Hardly able to speak. Looking half dead in bed. I kid you not, if there were vultures around, they probably would already have attempted to pick at my bones.

The only thing I had done, was crawl out of bed to pull a dustbin near me so I could throw up. Although I barely even had the energy to do that. But when I did, obviously whatever I had eaten was not agreeing with me and forcefully shot itself out of both my nose and mouth, spewing out my body like I was an extra in some horror science-fiction movie.

Alarmed that she might have stumbled upon a suicide case, Jindara from housekeeping (I think her name was) notified the front desk, who called me moments after and rushed up to my room.

I remember feeling flooded with relief because help had finally come. Khun Monrudee from front desk with her ammonia (all the better to wake you my dear) to the rescue!

She was a soothing balm with her calming voice and her gentle, but efficient ways, as she cooed me to sleep after making sure I had some liquids in me, and called a doctor in, as I couldn't even be moved to the hospital.

And guess what.

True to my "lagi suay" self... another "This can only happen to Sara" situation occured.

About 30 minutes later, I heard a British accent , male. In. My. Room.

I tried to peel my swollen eyelids open, adjusting to the warm light of the room like a miner adjusting to the sunlight.

And there he was. The doctor. Thai. Hot. Young. Brit-accented.

And there I was. City smells of Bangkok clinging to my day old white dress, that looked cute and resort- like 12 hours ago, but now just hung off me, as lifeless as my body. Let's not forget the dishevelled hair. And oh god. The pukey + dehydrated breath.

That's attractive.

One by one, my friends started touching down in Bangkok, and when they checked in, hotel staff told them about my predicament. The first of my friends to rush to my room, worried, Dawn and her boyfriend Lars.

Grateful to see a familiar face.. I croaked out the first sentence I did all day to Dawn, in Chinese.

“为什么那么suay. 我最丑时,偏偏给我年轻,帅的医生。。”

Subtitles: Why so suay (unlucky). When I'm so ugly, give me a hot young doc.

Dawn of course, giggled at this, relieved that I still had a sense of humour, and tried to convince me that I didn't look that bad (all in Chinese of course), and tried to ask me how I was feeling. But by then, I was drained by the excitement of croaking out that one sentence.

As I was quite out of it, I'm not sure how much time had passed, but I was told that we were waiting for the Doctor's nurse who was bringing the medication, so the doc still remained in my room, and my sister, fresh from the airport, burst into the doors.

No doubt wondering why a strange man and two of my pals were in the room, she started talking to the doctor IN CHINESE.




I did not see her face and I'm sure it must've been priceless but Dawn, my usually poker-faced legal-eagle pal was stunned and asked the doctor, "You speak Chinese?"

"Yes," he replied.

And even in my frail, groggy state, somehow I managed to pull the covers over my head in embarrassment thinking, "OMG. This can only happen to me lor.. "


Lo and behold. The doc's nurse finally arrived with the medication. Where the doc pronounced that he needed to now give me 3 injections to, and I quote "her gluteal muscle". In other words, he needed to give me 3 jabs to the ass.

And I didn't even know his name yet.

Dawn, was already quite ready to explode with laughter at this point, and went, "Ok.. We'll wait outside."

"It's ok, one of you can stay inside..", the doctor said.

"No. No. Its ok, we'll be out here.." Dawn said as she scurried out with Lars, pulling my sis with her.

30 seconds later. With my dress hiked up to my waist, my bare ass exposed to the doc - an explosion of muffled guffaws came from outside the hotel room door as no doubt, Dawn had brought my sis up to speed.

All I could think in my head at that point- Thank goodness I had on nice underwear. (A very flirty, frilly, mint green and lace concoction.) And I was thankful I had done a couple of velashape treatments at Apex- along with muay thai and yoga- my ass was looking pretty decent for a 33-year-old Ahjumma. Probably my best asset at that point to be honest. Pun not intended.

When the 3 poured back into the room, still giggling to themselves, the doc explained to them the medication he had given me for my "acute gastroenteritis"- read: severe food poisoning superbug that left my stomach as distended as a Somalian kids- before he left.

Not before highlighting that I could chew on this mint-flavoured pill that "should ease the gas" through the night.

Oh. The humiliation.

 Keep calm and carry on.

"HE SPEAKS CHINESE..." the three amigos barely managed as they collapsed in laughter on my bed.

"I knooooooowwww...." I croaked. Cracking a lopesided grin before falling to sleep.


Well. Who knows. Might not have looked that bad afterall.

Had flowers delivered to my room the next day. (Thank you Khun Mon.)

And, the doc called to see how I was doing... *waggle eyebrows*
HellOoooOOOooo Dr. Sithiphon.


Oh. And my sister JUST had to end the conversation with the doctor with the question,"So doctor, if my sister is still feeling rather CONGESTED, could I give her a laxative?"



They sure know how to kill your game.

Two lessons I got from this Bangkok-belly episode.

#1 - Always. ALWAYS. Wear nice underwear.

#2 - Everybody speaks Chinese now. -_-

Sunday, August 5, 2012


You know how people say that there are times in your life that will be like magic.

A long time ago.. I wrote something on my old blog at moblogs, that got quoted on a notebook for promo materials.

It went something like...

Where are you my prince?
I have loved you all my life.
All you have to do now,
Is find me...
                                         - sara ann k


In life we all go through a couple of doozys for sure. And each and every time, we get hurt, we get disappointed. We pick ourselves up. And we find the courage to try again.

I for one, have kissed more than my fair share of frogs, and a couple of toads, to find my prince.

But once in a while..

Once in a blue moon...

Stars align. Planets collide. And magic happens.

I don't know who you are yet.
And yet. Somehow. It feels like I do.

The most important thing is...

Even when I'm just thinking about you.....

And that... is magic.