My waistline is going to disappear if this keeps up. After all, the cook cannot resist her own cooking. Sheesh.

Do you know how many kinds of barbequed floss there is? Tons... okay more than five. Pork floss comes in crispy, soft and chillied versions. And there's chicken floss, beef floss and fish floss? What? Hmmmm... And because my mom sent me down to buy "pork floss" and never specified which version she meant, I was stumped at the variety. For all of two minutes. The nice guy at the counter finally weeded out the type of tibits my mom had in mind, which was incredible because I was hemming and hawing away and giggling cos I was embarassed at my ignorance. We finally narrowed it down to soft pork floss because my mom was making those minature deep-fried spring rolls.

(Yummy. The brat and I partook of such delicate fare... and stuffed our faces with what took me two hours to roll and pinch into vaguely "spring-rolly" shapes. Okay so we have about four fifths of what I made left.)

And after reading about the queues in Chinatown for the "special" BBQ pork slices, I was thankful that the shop I went to was quiet. I am beginning to wonder if Singaporeans only consider stuff good, when it has been heavily invested in time and effort, i.e. waiting in snaking queues for hours on end to get it. It is a corrupted, demented, work ethic if you ask me.

I can't believe that I giggled. It is so ditzy! Argh! And here's my New Year Resolution to stop acting like a freaking ditz! Grrr...