Picture Post.

OZOC SAC ballet flats with lace detail, i got thrifting...
at an unbelievable THREE DOLLARS. XD

And a lot of other flea stuff but those will be at my new blog.



Also, cleaning out the mother's shoe cabinet has its advantages. NEW SHOES! These are some of the nicer pairs that i've repossessed. XD

The pictures don't do justice.... But oh well late at night plus dark room, so. :(





Black pumps. I like the chunky block of a heel. Mummy says its too high for her, I say my feet are still young. XD



Bruno Magli wedges. Love?
=) Yes.



I'm kinda.... hmmm with this pair. Either love it or you don't. I guess they'd go with vintagey dug-out-from-the-attic outfits really well.




I had a pair of Doc Martens in sec sch before. I wore them till they cut into the back of my heels, size 5 feet squeezing into a size 4. So I sadly stopped wearing them. =(

And then..... I unearthed this! These aren't Doc Martens, but they come close. Hush Puppies! I like how they're clunky and clumsy like a block of wood. And they're comfy too! Major plus point.

You can't see them clearly here, but I promise you'll see more of them. At my new blog anyway.


If you're one of those geeky technical people who are wondering why my bed is slanted, its cuz the wooden panel on the side fell off. If you're one of those utterly impeccable everything-must-match types, I'm not the one who buys/changes bedsheets. if you're wondering why the mirror is on the floor, I dragged my dressing table mirror down.

and for the rest who are normal. =D
black clunky shoes: Hush Puppies. (the green tag says its a 355 something.)
tweed skirt: DIY-ed + fleamarketed.
white collar shirt: the mother's wardrobe.
black patent belt: bugis V.
black stockings: off an online seller.

The tweed skirt... I altered from the long-ass prude one below. I got it fleamarketing too, at TWOBUCKS! I can make another skirt with the leftover material. Except, I have no use for two identical skirts. But still! It's like $2 for 2! Okay that's the auntie in me talking.





Some of you guys already know where's my new blog. Not that I mind, but the juicy stuff ain't up yet. ;) Expect to see a lot more of food, streetstyle fashion, and the random crafting that i do. (i just made a sushi ring today!) Yeah, and lots of my usual rambly nonsense.

And of course, an older me. lickmybellybutton has been the transition, the stepping stone from juvenile xanga.com/intoxicateddevilspawn. Lol. Remember that one?

This hiatus-from-a-blog-hiatus has been pretty fun. For one, I've started to type properly with capital letters, did you guys notice? Heh.

Anyways. It was fun being here. One reason why I decided to move was because I hated how people were just copying what I said or literally copy&pasting from me. And by people here, I mean people. Not just one or two persons. I'm not the most original person in the world, and neither do I claim copyrights for what I say/do/think. But you know, if you copy at least have the decency to not let me come across it.

Also, I don't mind people reading my blog, I just would like to know if you are. So comment, if you haven't. The new blog's not ready yet, I'm only properly working on it after As which I'm sure would do most of us here good. And don't think about asking me IRL or over MSN because it annoys me that you're too lazy to comment. Then again, you can go be a sneaky stalker if that's what you want.
(retracts bitchy claws)

I'm saying goodbye to a whole lot of things here...
The person who wasn't sure of herself. The person who was falling apart and just watched herself come away instead of doing something. The person who tried to please everybody and balance everything. The person who felt sorry for changing, even though deep down she knows it was inevitable. The person who pretends to act dumb and feign ignorance, and in the end having people treat her like a fool. The person who doesn't think she can do it.

Now I know better.

Bye bye bye.







and here's wishing you an early

Pics from Grad Day.

OEI, where was I when this photo was taken... Bitches! XD

Caryn's Law of Downpours.

I have this theory that you should never run when you get caught in the rain.

With those raindrops falling and you running, you'd be like a human bucket rushing to catch them all. So sometimes when I see people scurrying about in a downpour, I scoff silently to myself and think "ah, if only they knew better."Maybe this was how Einstein felt like when he saw apples falling and invented gravity.

Or maybe, maybe this is just plain sluggishness. =P

I also make sure I walk along the sides of the road, because this is where puddles of water gather and where they are deliciously ankle-deep. WHICH brings me to another theory. If you don't want rainwater and bits of gritty gravel in your shoes, you need to step and wade in puddles. Because only when you swish your feet through the puddles, or stomp on them, would you get moving water which washes away those nasty bits of stone and dirt caught in your shoes. The water can't be stagnant, else the sand is just gonna nestle nicely in between your toes.

Of course, the above explains why I don't take Physics, and would probably fail it if I do anyway. Hehe.

Another reason why I like downpours is because there is no such thing as good hair, when there is rain. Your locks are soaking wet and plastered to the sides of your head a la helmet style, and its goodbyeeee frizz and hayhair! =) So when anyone peers at you, you can shrug nonchalently and go all, "oh no, not me, i don't have bad hair... you know, it's just this ugh, annnnnnnoying rain." (insert casual flick of hand)

The rain equalizes everyone! Wavy hair, curly hair, slick-straight rebonded hair, afro, they all become equals under the cat and dog showers. There would be no such thing as bad hair because everyone has bad hair. Of course, the notion of seductive busty women slipping out of swimming pools flicking their butt-length hair left right left and left right left again, doesn't come into play here. Good rain ensures your hair clings to nothing else but your head and neck. You can just try flicking until your neck gets sprained and the cows go home. (Whaat stop looking at me like that, its not like I actually tried to do the flick.)

And of course, you can't forget to include the frosty fogged-up specs to complete the Drenched Chicken look. Little specks of Qoo droplets on my lenses, casting irridescent circles of sequins in my vision when I look at the street lamps. They make me feel like I'm looking out of a snow-flaked windowpane, at the blurry landscape of winter wonderland.

Not that I have actually looked out of a window at the snow*, but you know, this is how I would imagine it to feel like. =)))

* yes yes i'm deprived. my experiences with snow extends only to indoor, synthetic, expensive ice. but then again, i have seen many things that many others haven't. like a picture of jason tan's naked butt.

Smithereens.

I suppose I should mark today down...

Today, two cars collided less than 6metres away from me. The specifics; two Comfort cabs, the traffic junction near the AIA building, abooooout 10am in the morning. And no, I wasn't the cause(contrary to popular belief) nor a casualty(duh, else I wouldn't be here blogging) in it.

I don't know the technical term to call it... Forgive me, I can't tell a car engine from an aircon ventilator. But basically, one cab ran into the other on its side. The windscreen smashed into smitheroons and flew everywhere. Cubed bits of glass, cuz the smash-proof windscreens work too damn good.

I didn't feel anything. I was just like, *blink blink* oh, an accident happened. A slight gust of wind, the screech of tires, I looked at the drivers to see if they were pointing middle fingers at each other, that was all.

So now on retrospect, I am thinking...
Why didn't I take down the car plate numbers to buy 4D or something?
Why didn't I even think of telling anyone?
Why didn't my heart rate accelerate?
Why didn't I break into cold sweat and feel relieved that I didn't get hit or something?

Its not everyday that two vehicles run and hug each other passionately infront of you. And its scary how I don't feel anything... What's wrong with me? Desensitized maybe. Getting old maybe. I had this dream once about knowing that I was gonna get raped and I felt surprisingly calm and didn't feel anything about it. (Jialing always uses this to shoot me, and says its a reflection of my inner desire to get sexed. Pooh pooh.)

As I grow older, I just feel less and less. Maybe thats why adults cry less. And laugh less.