I’m So Hot This Week #sizzling!!

I am having a majorly mahusiv workout week so far, in preparation for my Fit For Fashion Season Two audition video (see below for a sneaky preevy, lucky dear readers!!). It’s only Thursday, and already I’ve notched up 40k on the treadmill (thank golly for Spotify), three sessions with my personal slave-driver Eva, and two, yes TWO, yoga classes c/o awesome Vikram. Ordinarily I only do one yoga class per week, on Tuesday evenings, but this week I found that I was progressing so well in my practice (it’s totes truesome that practice makes perfect because in my case it v much has), that I decided to go to the Wednesday class as well. I didn’t even know there was a Weds class! Usually I block off Weds mornings for champagne brunch with my Expaterati girlies, but Seth told me Vikram does a sesh at 11AM which he goes to, and he said I should go too, so I was like, “Hells-to-the-yeah, babes, I’m all over it!”

It was really great to hook up with Seth again, having had our nice chats at the ANZA ball last Saturday. After the class on Tues we went for a quick soya chai. We were talking about the many amazebobs physical, mental and spiritual outcomes of doing a whole bunch of down-dogs every day, and that’s when he told me about the Wednesday class. Rarely does one meet a gentleman in Singapore who is free during the day for yogi’ing AND has an awesome hairdo. A most unusual combination. I was just about to enquire as to this phenomenation when I got a text from Max: “Mummy, you said you were doing bedtime stories tonight. Milly is crying, but I’m fine.”

Argh, I’d completely forgotten that I told the irritants I would be back for bedtime. Being the wonderfully committed mother that I am, I sacrificed my enjoyment of the conversation with Seth and cantered home tout de suite. Hashtag annoying, but such is life as the default parent. If only I had a second helper, perhaps she could take on my burdensome role as default parent.

11021343_1551148005174705_5337157980707431252_o

Haven’t quite got there yet…

Then yesterday I went to the Weds yoga class and, yet again, I outdid myself in terms of both yogic perfection and simultaneous hotness. Seth suggested lunch afterwards, so we cabbed it to Robertson Quay and went to Super Loco. That place is HONESTLY the bestest Mexican restaurant outside Mexico, and I don’t say that lightly. I spent my gap year in el Distrito Federal, and have partaken of many many Mexican joints from Lexington to London to Lahore. So trust me, babeses, I totes know wtf I’m talking about. And no, the Super Loco chaps are not paying me for my glowing endorsement. (Why is no one paying me for glowing endorsements?! PS Café still haven’t named a dish after me!! “Eggspat EJ”… Come on, now!! What’s the prob here??!)

Over our huevos rancheros, I finally had the opp to ask Seth what he does for a living, and why he has time for yoga and lunch on a Weds daytime. So you won’t believe this, peeps, but Seth is actually and totally the original founder of the global chain Yo Yeah Yoga!!! Can you believe that??? OMG, Yo Yeah Yoga is like the benchmark for yogis everywhere in the Western World (ie everywhere), and here I am, elegantly spilling salsa on my top in the presence of its founder!! Too much embarrassing!!!! I started hyperventilating, so I excused myself to the little girls’ room to re-apply my lippy and to make sure I looked AHAP (as hot as possible).

It is an important principle of mine not to be dazzled by wealth, power or fame, and I thusly therefore pulled myself together, and returned to the table.

“Ok”, I said, super-nonchalantly, “But that still doesn’t explain why you have so much spare time. Usually it’s only expat wives who get to do what they want, not the dudes. You’re totes freaking me out, babes, ya know??”

“Argh, sorry babes, I totes didn’t mean to freak you out. That’s the very last thing I wanted to do!! It’s cool. It’s really no big deal. I started something, it got really big, I sold it, and now here I am. I’m back to doing yoga, like I always wanted to do, with the most awesome yogi in the world who just happens to be in Singapore.”

I tried to contain myself, gracefully mopping up the eggs/drool mélange, but couldn’t help exclaiming, “So you’re Seth Lickerberg??! Yo Yeah Yoga is your company?? But that’s like huge! That’s like in every country that matters!! OMG I’m brunching a la Mexicana with SETH LICKERBERG!!!!!”

I’m not sure what happened next because my oxygen levels dipped through excitation (my portable fitness device told me so), but apparently I began taking selfies of us both and posting them on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter, until Seth grabbed my hand and said, “No, EJ. This stuff, it’s really nothing. It doesn’t matter. I just enjoy your company. So please, chill, babes. Can we get back to the present – be right here right now, mindful of the joy in each new moment? I’d like that.”

“I’d like that too”, I said, with my beautiful, haunting Angelina Jolie smile (goodbye Kate Mid, you’re not sexy enough for my smile).

“Ok, well although you’re like a global icon, babes”, I went on, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable, “It really makes no differencio to me who you are or what you’ve done. I just totes heart that sexy snort you do when you laugh… Holy argh-ness, did I say that out loud??!”

“Yes, you did”, he said, with his signature sexy snort, “And that’s ok. It’s all good. Nothing is a coincidence, you know? We’re sitting here for a reason. The universe has its own wisdom. We just trust it, right?”

I can’t say for sure whether he touched my hand or I touched his. It just sort of happened.

But then I had to go. I had a shoot scheduled for my audition vid for Fit For Fashion. It’s not easy being a celebrité blogger. I make it look easy, but it’s so not. So voila babeses, see below!! To audition, click here. I cannot wait to meet those Fitness First gym gods. If anyone can make me even more ravishing and physically powerful, it’s them.

Advertisements

I’m Going to Win Fit For Fashion Season Twooooo!!!

OMG the most exciting thing has happened! So, as dear readers will know from my post last year, I was a mahusiv fan of the TV show Fit For Fashion, and as God is my witness, I vowed to apply as a contestant ASAP. I could totes win that thing!! I’m already mega-buff, but they have these amazebobs trainers from Fitness First, and I think they could make me even buffier.

So, guess what?! Auditions are now open for Season Two!! I need to get my act together rapidamenté and do the audition video because the deadline is 31st May. Argh! I’m so busy right now, what with my burgeoning modelling career, and Singapore Fashion Week, and being an awesome mother and wife, and managing the help, and hanging out with my girlies, and stressing about whether we’re repattting or not, AND I’ve been approached to do a theatre review! So swamped!!

You probably don’t know this amazing fact about me, but I’m a v serious theatre buff and I did a three-day course once on Shakespeare, contemporary theatre, and how to become a professional theatre critic, but sheesh it was a long time ago. So I’ll have to brush up my skills, babeses, and that could take at least an hour on Wiki and YouTube. It’ll be a miracle if I can pull it all together, but I believe in miracles, and I know that you’re all right behind me. My chi really thanks you for that, even though of course you, as my dear readers, get so much out of what I do for you, and you’re therefore thusly way more grateful to me than I could possibly ever be to you. No thanks necessary, blush. Oh, blogging! It’s just one big gratitude party!!

The photo shoot I did this avo went ridic well (can’t wait to share the pics!), and I have to canter home now to supervise the help supervising Max’s homework before the fabulous Fash Wk party at H & M tonight. He gets an awful lot of homework, but I suppose needs must if he’s to be a fund manager one day. The main problem for me is keeping track of his assignments. He’s nearly seven, but he has abso no clue how to manage his time or even what homework he’s supposed to be doing! I’m thinking of taking matters into my own hands, and out-sourcing it all to a remote personal assistant in the Philippines. I could just have the school email them instead, and then I wouldn’t have a constant stream of inscrutable messages clogging up my inbox. Genius, I know.

F4F_auditionheader_1

EJ’s Amazebobs Expat NY’s Resolutions

Fireworks image

Happy Twenty Fifteen, to all my Expaterati and non-Expaterati lovelies across the globe, and beyond!! Here are my resolutions for the year ahead, and I can’t wait to hear yours. Lemme know in the comments! I hope one of your rezzis is to comment more on my bloggie-ogg : ) You know you want to!!

  1. Cut down on drinking (and smoking, even though I really don’t anyway) when in plain view of the help, due to her huge flappy mouth.
  2. Shop more.
  3. Go on more fabulous holidays.
  4. Attend more events and parties.
  5. Get chosen for Fit For Fashion.
  6. Spend less time with the children.
  7. Find a second helper.
  8. Keep on being an amazing multi-tasking mother, a fabulous wife, burgeoning celebrité blogger, & all-round awesomeness trailing spouse!

 

Wishing you a ton of mwa and so much <3 in 2015. I look forward to seeing you Singapore Expaterati. If you play your cards right, I’ll let you buy me a beverage (just the three though!). And to all you non-Sing peeps, come see me!! I’m sure you’ll love staying at the Mandarin, just down the street from us. You’re welcome any time. Don’t thank me : )

Luv ya!

EJ x

Part Awesomeness, Part Mega-Notness

Today was a day of two halves. Half sugar, half lemon. In the morning, Mummy and I went for mani-pedis at the Forum, and massages at the Hyatt. The children are off school and in need of constant attention, so I just about managed to pry Mummy away from the helper. They went off to Universal Studios. Helpers love that place as much as the kids do.

While getting our nails done, we discussed my father’s shenanigans, and I gave her the skinny on the calls I’d had from Chantelle about his mysterious disappearance. She agreed that he must be up to his old tricks, but thought his alibi of meeting his Guildford school friends was a little odd. Even now, she credits him with using his brain to think! Totes unworthy of it, if you ask moi. She even said, get this, that she feels sorry for Chantelle, wasting her youth on an old man. Mum-ski!!!? So sweet, but so completes naive. The girl is basically on an annual salary she could never have earned off her own back (though evidently doing just fine on her back UGH disgusto), and given my father’s age, all she has to do is hang around long enough for her shares to vest. Golden handcuffs? Golden suspender belt, babeses, hahaha!! Vom.

Not only that, he’s supporting her 16-year-old daughter, Angel (it’s actually Angelica, people! And she’s no angel, I’m sure), including paying her private school fees. Angel was at a crappy public school until my father showed up with his white stallion and gold card, and Lordy only knows what those public schools are like in Australia. I’ve seen Summer Heights High. I know what the score is. (LUV Ja’mie!!! Can so relate!)

Mummy’s insistence on empathising with Ms Chantilly was starting to push me over the edge, to the point where the nail girl told me to make my toes to stop shaking. It megannoyed me because I know very well that almost no one is more empathic than I am, so when anyone pretends to be, I just think, “Shut UP! Don’t even try to go there or you’re ridic!!”

I didn’t want to say that, of course, because Mummy is so obvioso clueless about a truckload of relationship issues. I’m not going to be the one to burst her mahusiv bubble. Not my modus operandi, and most defo not good for my chi. I decided to let it go, make peace with the matter, and have a big chant about it later, over a few glasses of sauv blanc.

Then we met my fab local friend Audrey Lim for lunch. Mummy so wanted to meet some Singaporeans, and go to a traditional sort of place, off the beaten track. So we went to Dempsey. Jones the Grocer. Mummy looked a bit disappointed. Dunno why. What’s more traditional than that?!

Next, we cabbed it back to Orchard, to skip around the malls, and indulge in one of my favourite sports: Rrrrra-shun spotting. I thought I was good at it, but Audrey is AMAZEBOBS!! She can spot them from two miles away!!!

Mummy was a bit of a spoilsport though. She said she didn’t find it funny, that it was racist, and that she wanted to go home. Ex-cuuuse me?! Firstly, Bling isn’t a race, and B. I am the least racist person in the universe. My mother can be so insensitive and judgmental towards me. I really regretted not telling her to shut up earlier in the day.

So, I let her go home, and Audrey and I went off to the Loof bar for cocktails. She told me about this super cool dance marathon thingie she’s going to next month, and I’m totes thinking of going too. Dancing hotly is one of my greatest skills, and I just don’t do enough of it in public places.

When I got home, I was ready to hit the hay. The irritants were tucked up in their beds (so cute when they’re unconscious, that’s when I love them most ardently/ at all?), Don was at a work thing, and Mummy was eating nasty Philippino fish head soup with the help, both of them squawking away in Tagalog. I was just about to get in the bath when my phone rang. Ms Chantilly. She was super upset and sounded like she had a runny nose which made me feel sick to my stomach, and I nearly hung up. I was trying to steel myself against the nausea, while fumbling with the headphones to plug them in so that I could splash my face with cold water.

Then, as I prepared to click IPhone_calling_screen copy , I heard her saying, “ssptltifhhbjsur and the doctor said that your father has dementia”. What now, now???

I felt I was about to fall over, and edged towards the bed to make a graceful landing.

“What?”, I asked, “What did you just say??”

She repeated herself. Oh. Yes. Yes, that’s what I thought she said.

“Chantelle, I’ll have to call you back”, I said. Her distress and runny nose had impacted me in a big way, and I could totes feel myself rocketing* to Planet Panic: I can’t go to Australia! I’m too busy! I don’t know anything about dementia! It’s too ugly! I don’t have time for this! I can’t possibly HELP!!

For seven minutes, I did my pranayama breathing, in one nostril, out the other, but that didn’t help. I did the crow pose twice, and then a few tree poses, but that didn’t help either. As the panic started to rise, I ran, arms flailing, to the wine fridge, and downed two glasses of New Zealand’s finest. That helped. I knew then what I had to do.

I went to my meditation corner, bathed myself in white light, and spontaneously experienced a connection with my higher power. In that moment, these words appeared in my mind’s eye:

IMG_3601

I felt immediately better, so I called Ms Chantilly back. When she picked up, I could tell she was crying, and I knew I had to be kind, but firm.

“Where is he now, Chantelle?”, I asked, using my awesome skills from the half-day conflict negotiation training I once did. She sobbed (UGH UGH and UGH again, why must people cry at me all the time just to piss me off??) that he had been admitted as an inpatient for his own safety.

“Perfecto!”, I said, “Best place for him. I’ll get Don’s PA to find him a nice care home in Noosa, and he can go there as soon as he’s been discharged”.

I made some digital-effect blurpy- blurp robot sounds (my DJ experience really paid off there!), and said, “Sweetie, you’re breaking up”.

The last words I heard her say were, “But Emma-Jane…”.

But me no buts, baby. But me nooooo butts.

I really need to do a long treadie session tomorrow, espesh if I’m going to be on Fit For Fashion next year. I was looking at my behind in the mirror tonight during the panic yoga, and I think the Din Tai Fung dumplings might be taking their toll. It’s so tricky fitting in enough gym time, what with Mummy here : ( BUT, of course, it’s totes abso lovely to be surrounded by family at this beautiful time of year, and I am so super blessed.

* Check this awesome Kate Spade rocket clutch. Likee. Wantee.

PXRU5309_974-1