the textual siege.

chanced upon this pretty nifty idea for a meme [i know, i know, i havent even finished the previous one. attention span of a retarded tadpole]. so first i follow a meme and then i create one?

don't be alarmed at the swine flying past your window. just think of it as a flying bacon sarnie. om nom nom. or it's just your fat bastard friend.

this meme is deceptively simple, but it being a fantasy, it will suck you right in. so just imagine 24 hours in a day in the life of you 10 years later. meme, right there.

i tag sam, ming, hatta, lin

7am - get pawed and woken up partially by our retriever, not named marley. shoo him out, resume slumber.

8am - get pawed a second time by another animal, my sexy lucky husband whom i hope will still paw me at 70 when the grandkids are not looking and flash me a knowing, cheeky albeit toothless grin from across the dining table. ahh marital bliss, not as elusive as my silly 22 year old self had thought.

9am - emerge from the shower and get dressed then be greeted at the table by our gorgeous kids who thankfully inherited both mine and my husband's wry humour. as i quiz them on their third and fourth languages, breakfast starts appearing on the table. yes, sexy bastard husband [i abhor the use 'hubby'. gag.] cooks really well.

10am - waltz into my office, punctuality is not an issue when it is your little empire you greet.

11am - answer emails, read favourite blogs. just like how it was 10 years ago.

12pm - breeze out to meet sam and ming for our weekly lunch at a new place we haven't tried together and collectively bitch about the incompetency of our minions together.

2pm - reluctantly end lunch and head back to office. speak with in-laws whom i get along fabulously with to make dinner plans

3pm - wrap up plans on how to make even more money. husband swings by to pick me up and we take the kids out of school early as a surprise, to visit an aquarium [preferable to a zoo] and to prepare for dinner.

6pm - end a great afternoon by going grocery shopping together.

7pm - kids are almost dead from all the excitement so we leave them be and whip up dinner. in-laws arrive and we all have a great time chatting and eating.

10pm - dinner is over, in-laws have left, kids are dead to the world and it's just back to being husband and i...

you can almost smell the weekend already... the intoxicating scent of my eau de weekend carries top notes of getting lucky, perhaps the chance to cook, some reading and more subtle but still present layers of complete relaxation, conversation and more...

* two pairs of impulse bought shoes + soup spoon for lunch

* having a work idea complimented and taken seriously. not such a big deal but when you're junior staff, these things mean something. besides, who doesn't like their ego stroked and attain affirmation?

* being so free at work that i was able to do the header of this blog and write drafts for the travel one. when things look nicer, i feel happier!

* sam doing the meme too. not such a big deal either but it's always nice to see what makes the people you care happy.

* doing the entry drafts for the travel blog means getting over some hang-ups i was having. well, one issue at a time...

man, i feel like such a cloud of cheer today instead of being all doom and gloom.

as for my header and why i chose flowers, for all the aspects of me that make me seem like a vulgar, horny boy (at least to the people who know me well in person), i really do like flowers! a stem of perfect white orchids, tulips, camellias [also won't reject the ones at chanel joaillerie. taka level 1 thanks], peonies, posies, pansies, the list goes on... just no generic red roses please.

and today we have....

waking to something way better than the waffles i have been craving and unable to satiate for a week ;)

watching a pretty good flick, suspect x.

finally buying some waffles and wolfing one down for dinner, chased down by a nice little sandwich.

laughing a lot... just the way weekends should sound.

knowing that i am missed, sometimes.

i'm still trying to hold on to the last vestiges of the weekend, although it's quickly slipping out of reach and then begins the so old, its new routine of counting down to friday night.

fcuk, brainfreeze says:

can you jsut blog

fcuk, brainfreeze says:

plsplsplsplspslplsplsspl

ming says:

eh u saw sam's nick? she needs a ball of sunshine

ming says:

where to find ah?

Belle du Jour - Are you only a PMS plus? says:

hahahhaha are you serious?

ming says:

kidding la

ming says:

but she was quite desperate

ming says:

over lunch we were talking abt it

ming says:

and she looked distraught!!

ming says:

haha

Belle du Jour - Are you only a PMS plus? says:

i know

Belle du Jour - Are you only a PMS plus? says:

her ball and his balls are in aus

Belle du Jour - Are you only a PMS plus? says:

and we are too down to be her balls

Belle du Jour - Are you only a PMS plus? says:

so maybe can like ask XXX?

ming says:

hahahah

ming says:

she will puke balls la..

ming says:

sam i mean

Belle du Jour - Are you only a PMS plus? says:

hahhahahhahaha

ming says:

hahahahhahaaha

ok if you really have to know, here is my travel blog where my virtual presence will be for the next two weeks.

pms time, is the best time. except when you imitate my hand gestures.

thanks guys. see you in two weeks plus, with eiffel tower magnets!

a happy new year everyone!

i hope everyone has gotten over their hangovers, tossed away any 2008 hang-ups [i know i'm still trying], still remember their resolutions [if any] and began thinking of how your year will play out.

i've all but given up on resolutions but if forced at gun-point to make one, i would say i resolve to be a better student in what is possibly the last leg of academia. yes, i can practically hear those raised eyebrows shooting up all the way to your hairlines but i'm quite determined and i've never not gotten anything i desired or wanted if i'm determined enough.

it struck me with a bit of horror today that i will be in a totally foreign land in about two weeks, give or take a few days, which is quite an awesome way to start a new year if you ask me. i'm barely prepared, save for a coat we found after a whole day of combing town and a pair of boots i really like. and two really small guidebooks. and repeated words of caution and worry from my friends about being careful in the cold, which i think is really cute and endearing.

i've made a url for a blog which will probably be used for my travels, which i regret not starting earlier for cambodia but if time and chance permits, i'd like to be able to blog from the ville de lumiere as often as i can. we shall see about that. i say this now, and i hope i dont have to retract my words, but the initial trepidation and worry is slowly but surely easing away and anticipation and excitement are edging their ways in. i'm beginning to look forward to spending two whole weeks with someone i've been loving deeply for one year, to be able to sample all the foods that he's been so enthused about for so long, to let him bring me to places he knows i will like and to discover new ones together. i can only hope he feels the same.

so i hope everyone who reads this feels as happy and enthused about the year as i am. and well, if you don't, it's still not too late to start feeling it!

it suddenly struck me, whilst standing under a near boiling shower, that the landmines aren't in cambodia but in paris.

oh well, guess i'll just have to tread carefully and try to think a few steps ahead of everything, although sometimes caution is the last thing associated with me.

there's still time to adopt a new persona! i'm thinking victoria beckham minus her penchant for furs. having that husband of hers would help me slip into character a lot easier. mmmm...

on a totally unrelated note, mtv is now playing songs from my teenhood! blink 182... sugar ray.. mmm that mark mcgrath, oldie but goldie! gotta lurve it.

allow me to state the obvious, if the garish lights and maddening crowds aren't big enough hints....the year is coming to an end.

for those of us with at least one measly friend, that spells a frenzy of decisions, buying, wrapping, accepting and declining...and like me, forgetting to take deep breaths in between.

if, you are [unfortunately] anything like me, then you will understand that, for a person who detests crowds, loathes having her personal space infringed every other minute and isn't particularly thoughtful or creative in the gift-giving department, this is a really trying time. the few brain cells and neurons i have left are frazzled beyond hope so don't ask me challenging questions like what's my favourite colour until perhaps june 09.

but what those poor little overworked [just like santa's elves] cells know is that the owner of them has too many things to be thankful for.

in a really rare positive light [that should explain the flying pigs you just saw], to have many celebrations condensed in the coming one week just means that i am at least tolerated by those who thought to invite me, if not, loved. that also means that for the past year and more, these same kind souls have been there for me, to hear me out, wring a wince at lame jokes, do things i love like movies and checking out places, to lend a [sometimes virtual] shoulder and to just be the best damn company a girl could ask for. partner that with a whole, healthy family, albeit a really small one, who has been my support for the past 22 years and for many more to come, those few brain cells have really been overwhelmed with uncharacteristically sappy thoughts of how lucky i am. but i'm not giving those poor guys a break because i dont want to stop being lucky nor stop being reminded of it on an almost daily basis. yeah see what i mean about the sap?

so in lieu of a silly, frivolous christmas list of *cough* louboutins, chanel, holidays and more... i want all the people that are involved in my life to continue being so, to be happy and healthy, also wealthy [dont forget to share ah!] and to have the resources and courage to fulfill their dreams in 09 and beyond. i would love to help achieve that in any way i can and i can only hope that in the past year, i have been able to reciprocate what you guys have given me in your ways but if i haven't; then i only have the most profuse apology and a permanent post-it in my mind to do better.

the above is of course, for mon amour, the m+s in pms, the two circles of friends from school, alisa, hatta, steph, mark and chris thoo.

don't hold your breaths in hopes of the sap ending, it'll go on for at least two more entries!

the week had a bad, bad start, much much more than i let on and very possibly the worst out of 52 weeks in a year and now its practically friday.

what salvaged it from the dumps was kylie live. it is very likely the best event of 2008, hands down.

and what came to me this morning when discussing the glowing reviews she got in the local rags with me was how my children would never be able to experience that and i felt sad. well i'm sure they'd have many great experiences anyhow. preferably without the aid of drugs. but still.

and before i bid all my voyeurs a lovely weekend, i would like to ask - is ignorance bliss or is knowledge power?

i've been struggling with that for a while now and it's been inconclusive so far.

hear ye! hear ye!

this is the one and only time i will ever plug something on my blog but i'm making the concession for a dear friend.

alisa is hawking pastries and desserts on her blog. there aren't pictures available for the items for ordering yet but in the immediate entry below are two pictures that bear testament to her mad skillz.

also, you'll know quality is guaranteed because she's a good friend. never heard of awesome by association? well, this is it.

anyways this is pretty timely because xmas is almost here and if you know a foodie friend who would appreciate some good food over something sad, like socks and underwear then her blog is the way to go. also good gift idea if you want to taunt a fat frenemy. well, just sayin. perhaps if you paid alisa a wee bit more, she could pipe 'once on your lips, forever on your hips' or something more subtle like 'hmm... are you sure..?' onto the goodies.

show my homegirl some love HERE.

p.s woman, it'll be better if you could send your endorsers some samples so uhhh, our endorsements could be more vivid yknow :)

ok maybe the red is a bit outre but it's in the spirit of xmas no?

a trip to tokyo would be sweet too, santa. imagine me and you in harajuku, and you fitting right in or me and you in kyoto and i'm in a geisha costume and you.... um, can be you. picture perfect.

i think it's a wee bit of a mistake watching this particular episode of grey's before i sleep because i just know it'll be weighing heavy on my mind...

anyone who follows it, though not necessarily as religiously as me or ming, will know that one episode is cobbled together from a few sub-plots. now the one that will give my tear ducts a good workout soon is one involving this geriatric couple. wife is lying lifelessly while husband looks on helpless. soon she flat-lines and meets her maker but the husband starts trying to resuscitate her and keeps saying, "stay with me....".

i can't imagine being in the husband's position, losing my partner before my eyes, desperately trying to make him hang on, if not for himself, then for me. who can ever fathom that pain? it would be different from losing a parent or a friend and perhaps to say it'll be like losing a limb or half of you would still be undermining it too much...

as to where i'm going to find that partner....well good luck to me!

damn it, where are those endorphins that are supposed to overwhelm you after a good workout like i just had??

and last night saw the second last of belated birthday celebrations with my travelmates.

thank you guys for the petite cherie, it was a really nice surprise. although to have tim would have been very nice too. but old is as old does and by 2, with one dinner cocktail and half a jug of vodka lime at zouk sloshing around in the geriatric's stomach, i was out like a light in the car. i'm well and truly ashamed. i should be asking myself, where are the days, or rather, nights of drinking and dancing until the lights almost come on then go for supper at spize??

one last celebration with the classmates and i'm good to go for the rest of the year.

or well, until the nerve-wrecking, very last week of december. eek!

looking at the pictures already up and respectively tagged and commented on at facebook, i'm struck with missing-siem-reap pangs.

the whole trip went without a glitch except for sam's symphony of the sinus and my inability to wake up early, we are still friends, no one is scarred or disfigured, half of the pictures make me want to laugh out loud and overall, i can't believe we only spent [24 x 4] 96 hours there!

it was my birthday present to myself, as was melbourne last year because i realised, hey if i dont do such things for myself then who would? the money spent could have bought a pair of basic louboutins but the louboutins can wait, experiences can't. especially for someone as impatient as i.

last time this year, i was in alisa's room on her floor and i remember being awakened by an sms birthday greeting from the person sleeping beside me now. ahh the turn of events.

in melb, i was constantly on this [natural] high, especially when i was alone because the weather was perfect, i could do as i pleased....it was just this unadulterated happiness that emanated from every pore, that i so rarely experience and all the more, i treasure and constantly replay.

in cambodia, i was terrifically happy too but differently so. there was a bit of vigilance but i felt carefree, and it felt as if the hours stretched into days but in a good way. i felt peaceful, though the frenzied, frenetic quality of phnom penh suppressed that a little.

and 22... could there be more nondescript, insignificant age...?

right now, all manner of gadgetry are getting juiced up. all the shorts and tanks i own are sequestered and ready to be packed alongside my long dormant sense of adventure and curiosity.

tomorrow this time, i would already have been sent a full day getting dusty in phnom penh with two of my closest friends. i could already already foresee us grimy and tired out of our minds, dissecting the day over a nice dinner.

there is only so much an itinerary, lonely planet and the net can tell us. crazy traffic, streets rife with beggars, street hawkers and fellow tourists with us dollar lined pockets... yeah, read all that. but to experience it all is a whole different ballgame.

the one thing i'm glad is over with the advent of this trip are people asking me if i'm going there to build toilets/houses/schools or to teach english. well as amy winehouse said... no, no no.

this would be my last trip of 08 and i can't wait to see how it would turn out. and in typical impatient me fashion, i am wondering what would 09 throw up.

just a little segue before i go on my merry way.

i've never admitted this out loud but i do really like talking to him. it could be light, breezy chats that hold littke weight and are enjoyable precisely because of that to more serious, weightier topics that could be as random as they come and these kinds of conversation make me yearn pick his brain and ruminate on his opinions, which contrary to what he thinks, holds a lot of importance.

i enjoy our habit of slipping in private jokes and creating new ones and the light banter and the teasing. even that one particularly long conversation which saw us being separated for one long month [count that, 31. whole. days.] was not spared comfortable old habits.

that's all i wanted to say. i'm starving, for food and some conversation.

a note from my otherwise snoozefest of a tuesday... i wouldn't call what happened serendipity. that, would be apt for describing meeting my partner. i think, the only terms appropriate would be karma and just utter bad luck. i can't help but get a good laugh in disbelief.

a leftover note from the weekend, when i was too busy becoming one with my bed... when the proverbial they say first impressions count, just believe them. there's nothing i detest more than a limp handshake, especially if it's from men. it just evokes thoughts of nasty limp cabbage, amongst other things that go limp when they shouldn't.

no matter how hot a guy is, if the bones in my right hand aren't rearranged from his handshake, chances are i'd be hard pressed to talk to him again without asking if he has some debilitating form of nerve damage or are just OCD about touching other people. in that case, he really shouldn't venture out.

as a service to all fellow annoyingly anal women out there, i will make it my personal mission to ensure that my sons, apart from being ridiculously hot, hung like a horse, cultured, articulate and charming, will have tear-inducing, cripplingly firm handshakes.

go ahead, don't be abashed about showing appreciation in lieu of your future daughters now.

this is, hands down, the hardest thing i've ever had to do. and yet i still want more of it. an undo or go back to start button would be pretty handy though.

i'm sitting here, unshowered, still in the same clothes i gave no thought to throwing on more than 12 hours ago, with a 2000 word essay to write which i know will take forever because i want the words to be just so.

these days, i'm hesitating a lot, hurrying a lot, sighing a lot, thinking a lot, worrying a lot, frowning a lot, setting my mouth in a thin line of determination a lot, questioning a lot and wishing a lot.

i just came from visiting a blog of a girl badly scalded by love. as discussed by my friends and i, she is probably in this state because she chose to ignore the glaring warning signs. but i think, she's the way she is today, heart scarred over by the lesions and keloids from the perils of loving with all she had. and i thought that i'd very possibly never end up this way because of the way i love.

it is in careful, measured stops and starts, never in generous shovel-fuls or tractor-fuls but in teaspoons. strange analogy, but much like fagin doling out a pathetic amount of gruel to oliver twist, punishing him when he timidly asks for more. this is obviously because i'm afraid of getting burnt but more so for fear of losing a sense of self and not knowing the full capacity of my heart to love. sometimes, i do wish i could give more.

all i want to do is turn on the tv but mute it, curl up in bed with the sept bumper issue of vogue, lose myself in another world i will never inhabit, surrounded by my four plump pillows creating a fortress around my physical self while the metaphysical one drifts away.

not knowing where, how and with whom i'd be spending this weekend, is on my mind more than i'd like to admit.

i have two goals till the end of 08 to achieve.

1 . gun for a promotion.

2. straighten myself and my relationship up.

by the way, aiming to eat cheaper isn't a goal is it? well if i attain number 1 then i wouldn't have to strive for this too! cmon, who can deny that slowly working your way through desserts the size of your head accompanied with neverending cups of tea with good company in an ambient cafe for hours on end is one of life's greatest pleasures?

up up and away!

and it's back to work for now...

to paraphrase the bridezilla who said 'once you go brown, it'll turn your frown upside down'... work has been amazing.

i have no qualms about leaping out of bed every morning and walking past the old shophouses to arrive at ours. the work starts the moment i sit down and inhale my breakfast at the same time, only pausing to email some favourite people. i dont even mind working late and have come to accept it as de rigueur. of course lots of positive affirmation from those i work with help too.

everything is falling into place now, as it always seems to towards the end of the year, for me. i can't wait to see how i will write my annual new year's retrospective of 08 because there is still one component missing. of course it is largely my doing that it is missing and working on changing the bits of me that caused it to go missing has been added to my quite substantial list of daily things to do. i would love to be able to include the missing component into my retrospective at the end of the year but we'll see how it goes.

i can just smell the weekend already and it smells like... sweaty balls, i mean being sweaty running after tennis balls and some great company to get sweaty with.

i really treasure our conversations during our train rides back, because they often yield gems that make me want to double up with laughter and just die. here's the best one in a while. names have been changed to protect the hilarious.

me : .... i think texas has a pretty low cost of living.

M : really? like how low?

me : like maybe you easily get food under a dollar..?

M : wow really? do you think they use american dollars or texan dollars?

stunned silence.

all the luck for friday! and forgive us for that joke already.............

why is it that all we ever want, are what we cannot get?

round and round like a dog chasing its tail but unlike the animal, some of us never stop even when we realise that our pursuit will come to no fruition and we just plow head on obstinately.

what is it, if it isn't blatant masochism? it doesn't seem very much above flogging yourself with a cat o'nine tails or having your dominatrix affix clamps to your testicles honestly.

forget about keeping up with the joneses or oneupmanship because it all starts in our little minds rife with malcontent. what makes one so blindly sure that the grass over the horizon is greener? what's wrong with your own patch? why can't we weed it, mow it or spruce it up before we stomp all over it in our haste to pursue a new patch?

it isn't about being single-mindedly content or worst, settling. it's about knowing when to step hard on the brakes instead of accelerating blindly because there's no telling when the challenging hairpin curve ahead will be the one that causes you to careen off the edge.

hate to be the one delivering such cute bon mots of cynicism but one learns that no one, and i really mean, no one is irreplaceable.

really. seriously.

waking up today brings me into my third week of unemployment. it's been an inconceivably long three weeks and being idle was killing me and what few brain cells i have. as lazy as i can be, being disengaged from reality and not having a sense of purpose was disconcerting and uncomfortable.

a job may not define who you are, especially at my age, but it certainly moulds you as person and you grow as your career should. i took the plunge to call it quits at my previous mindless, soul-less job and it'll be yet another headfirst plunge come next monday when my spell of unemployment officially ends.

i'm rarely excited about much but i'm anticipating working, thinking, doing...at the expense of a significant paycut but not shopping for a while never killed anyone so i should survive. i can't wait to start and i feel that i can finally relax this last week without any worries and i really hated answering questions about job hunts and the ilk because well intentions aside, they only served to ask myself if i really was incompetent and/or lazy and good for nothing.

let's see where this leads me and i'll report back soon enough.

an idle mind is the devil's playground.

i loathe being idle.

laughably, after some introspection, i can't believe i'm suffering the psychosomatic after-effects of what happened.

even when i was at my sickest, i'd be dreaming up of dishes to devour and now i'm well i can't seem to crave anything or have anything appeal to me. even when i was supposed to be happy and even when things are supposed to be a bit better, the appetite still remains a lost cause.

perhaps if the delusional me believes that this is my punishment and bad karma from my misbehaviour in past relationships or perhaps its just not meant to be but whatever it is.... i want my appetite back!!

and so i've learnt, or at least he's helped me to, that.... ignorance isn't bliss because knowledge is power. with that, i've picked up the scraps of trusty armour i tried to shed along the way and piece them back again. once foolish enough to drop the artillery, i'd like to think and hope that i've wizened up for good. however it shouldnt be too difficult to leave because my worldly possessions there, nicely fit in a shoe box.

profuse thanks for the life lesson, even though i wish it hadn't been you to dole it out.

this is before i continue phase 2 of my day, before phase 2 ends and i start to feel apprehensive about seeing someone i shouldn't have a shred of apprehension about.

i'm so glad i took the free fall into the abyss of uncertainty today. this also means i dont have to deal with singapore's stupidest. and nastiest. and if i am lucky, i get to encounter those circus freaks who are hybrids of those two desirable attributes. i will miss stifling raucous, demeaning laughter in the face of those walking jokes and bitching about it to my friends and partner.

emailed a good friend, whom shall be known as bridezilla from hereon in, for the first time today. of the many things bridezilla and i excitedly chattered on about in our epic lengthed emails, the one that kinda took centrestage as about The One. which one? ah you know, The One. the one who will have to wake up to your slowly but surely disintegrating face, fondle your tits that will soon succumb to gravity and be the babydaddy to your brats for the rest of his life. but of course, i am being wildly, optimistically assumptive that this is in the event that one does not join the scary, burgeoning statistics of divorces. the derivative question from our exchange is - how many The Ones is it possible to go through in life?

what if your current partner is who you think is The One only for you guys to end in a spate of tears and spite and the next one comes along and you think that The One Is Really This One? how many The Ones are there really?

i'm running out of time to ruminate on this in a more eloquent fashion so till the next entry....

there is nothing i detest, hate, loathe more than an unpleasant surprise. he should know - afterall i've sprung quite a few on him. but i am dead sure there aren't any more he could receive, whereas i have no idea what or when i would chance upon another nasty one lying in wait, patiently anticipating the emotion ambush on me.

let it be known here that i think sentimentality is a chronic affliction, a weakness of character if you may. perhaps never really been a sentimental fool myself, i cannot imagine what it is like to be in the shoes of one. but i sure as hell know what it feels like to be the partner of one and for fuck's sake, i really really hate it.

what i wouldn't give to slay insecurity and jealousy, the two heads of a monster that has been unrestrainedly romping freely through my reality and consciousness, the catalyst of many a pout or sulk, most of which are indulged in privately.

having never really felt that way before, the most direct ways to deal with it is to a) try to halt the creeping progression of those feelings and look for distractions. b) lash out on the person who may directly or indirectly cause you to feel that way.

b is not an option simply because it is pointless, no one can quash that negativity but yourself. so a it is, because it is just easier to hope really hard that those thoughts are fortuitously layered over with others. besides, who knows what you say or express would spark off a whole new train of thoughts and feelings, not just in yourself but in the person that you thought would understand, that culminates in disaster.

sometimes, silence is just the best placebo.

so now its late. not the 'i dont care what the time is because we're too busy fighting/talking/distracting' kind of late but more of the 'i'm too busy having a sulkfest, attendance : 1' kind of late. i need to pack my worldly possessions so i can camp out at his until an as-yet-undetermined date. normally, i loathe packing because it denotes transition and i need to feel rooted to something, somewhere or someone. but somehow this is fine. i've become a willing gypsy whose own bed doesn't smell of me anymore, whose room is merely a cement, four-walled holdall for tangible proof of my existence, many of which are disposable.

i hate anticipation. everything and anything to do with it, i hate. it's so effortless to coast through life when you make an effort, the only kind of effort you've only ever put in really, to cast away undue expectations and sweep anticipation under the rug. its so easy when there aren't disappointments or let downs to deal with, even easier to shrug off what would have been a heavy cloak of unhappiness otherwise.

and so, it's not been easy waiting for the phone to vibrate or to wait for the email alert to sound from the person that has taught me the cruel meaning of keen anticipation. the agony is amplified when we are feuding and more often than not, because of me. sometimes even i can't believe how i would ideally like to react when i dont get the text or email i so desire. this scary dismay also applies when his words are frosty, i dont get my terms of endearment or teasing or private terms and jokes. mental institution worthy impulses range from wishing to fling my phone against a hard surface and taking a sledgehammer to the computer and also storming to where i think he is at the moment to shake the reply out of him. yes, very scary indeed. in retrospect, i'll very likely regret revealing this about myself but my entries are always about the right now; and i'm afraid the right now isnt too rosy.

but the absolute worst would be feuding in person. i can't stand the ice coated words tersely thrown at the other nor can i bear the frozen pauses wedging an iceberg between us. so easy to slip on the ice and say spiteful things that result in more regret. i have no idea where these sides of me came from, or how he managed to excavate them from the deep recesses of me. however, i dont think anyone else could stir such feelings in me, let alone allow the embarrassing existence of this entry. so, no regrets...for now at least. after which i shall go acquire some desperately needed patience, as ordered by my sanity and buy stronger ropes to rein in my rage that threatens to rip apart when i feel wronged and undermined for the ones binding it are fraying.

when the going gets good... the asshole comes out to play.

i couldn't believe where i found the nerve, the balls, the guts and all manner of anatomy that denote fearlessness to have [and i think maybe even initiate] that string of texts that he found this morning when i was in the shower.

the boulder that landed in my stomach after i realised what he was so upset about was not my idea of breakfast and obviously neither was it his.

waiting for the reply to the email that i immediately fired off the nanosecond my outlook opened was torturous and i spent the rest of the workday apologising my sorry ass off.

he deserves sainthood for not dumping me thus far because if i were in his shoes, i dont think i could've dragged myself to work.

seriously speaking, i have no idea where or how i found the foolishness and complacency to have that conversation. letting consideration override my innate selfishness is like..... throwing an eskimo into the desert. sometimes i feel that cliche of a leopard and its spots is manifesting itself and it isn't a pleasant revelation but.... for this one i want it to be different.

just when i think it's gonna be a mind-numbingly boring night being home on a saturday because i am back from spending 3 days and nights at the bf's and now he's out with friends, conversations with two people i've loved and actually still do, in a different way, quelled my boredom quite a bit. doling out love advice to an ex and seeking advice from another, not an ex, but might as well be - has spun some interesting perspectives for the night. i miss the both of them quite a bit and i miss him too but ego and not wanting to interrupt his night is holding me back from texting him. goddammit i am feeling hormonal and irritable and emotional.

if only trust could be bought, i'd pay any price for it. sell off my kidney too because i dont think any price would be too high to pay. what i wouldn't give for the peace of mind i've never known and to never sulk even when i'm not distracted or busy and my mind wanders to him.

helllloooo 08...

this isnt so much being fashionably late as being blissfully late. juggling school, work, friends and a relationship, the chances of coming up for air have been few and far in between but its been an exhilarating, riproaring ride into the new year, with no signs of screeching to a halt.

it took almost 5 months and kissing a few toads before seeing [and almost turning away] the one in front. its been...interesting personally because i want to do things right and proper. fidelity, truth and a dash of trust have been all its about...effortless now and hopefully even more so in future.

gone is that adolescent all-consuming need to be with a partner 24/7 but i can't say i dont relish and look forward to the weekends of cooking and lounging around at his. to be conjoined at the hips and inseperable at the lips, roaming hands and entangled limbs is the stuff friday nights and saturday afternoons are solely made of.

ok thats enough mush to last till the next post, when hopefully i'd still be enamoured of my paramour but with more interesting offerings.

amidst the slew of mad last minute brainstorming, then shopping for the results and cooking and making plans, i've decided that the festive season isn't so bad, if you can ignore the crowds and the last minute everything.

it doesn't give me enough time to think and too many reasons to spend.

also, it was very nice kicking off the festivities by receiving one of the more unrealistic items on the below wishlist. to have them brought back from the land of the louvre and chanel with me in mind definitely chased away any vestiges of scrooge's spirit manifesting itself. unfortunately, it's been a pain trying to think of a present for the macaron giver. what do you give someone who seems like he has everything he needs? i hate to think that i'd have to settle for something generic like cufflinks.

celebrations kick off tomorrow! the panna cotta is setting in the fridge, presents sitting on my bed waiting to be wrapped and i am psyched!

because i'm home on a saturday night, by virtue of my sloth-ness.

xmas wishlist 07.

*white hermes belt with interchangeable twillys.

*hermes enamel bangles.

*free reign of kinokuniya

*laduree macarons

*for hk to come through

*lots of sleep

*certain french brand of tea sold at taka, whose name escapes me now. this is going to keep me up the whole night.

*for this damn festive period to end in two shakes because it's just too damn depressing.

*for the rain to never stop

*the balls to say no should the opportunities arise

*the opportunity to explore the restaurants i've been curious about with the right company. obviously that can only mean two other people in this world.

*iphone!

alisa the fat pervert is leaving in a couple of hours and it really puts a sense of finality to my little adventure as well. thank you woman, for being such a great host and bringing me around.

i'll be doing my last spot of shopping and meeting the boys before it's home sweet home for me tmr.

the weather here in melbourne is gorgeous. there's the sun accompanied by chilly wind. travelling semi-alone isn't so bad afterall. all i need is some good weather, flats, a pack of dirt cheap duty free cigs and a map. walked from my hotel to the prahran area for the sass & bide sale, where everyone and their cellulite was just stripping down to their skivvies. ok that was my singapore prude personality talking. now the walk, that in itself took 2 hours, to put it into a singaporean context, it would be akin to walking from orchard to maybe ang mo kio or further. but it wasn't so bad and time was negligible when you are busy eyeballing the ornate architecture on some of the houses in the neighbourhood where the hotel was.

explored the city quite a bit but everywhere seemed the same. walking around and people watching just affirms my belief that caucasian men are not my cup of earl grey.

had my krispy kreme cherry popped. alisa, she of whose mouth has never stopped masticating food the moment we met in the city, and i bought an assorted dozen. she polished off all 6, glazed and choc fyi while i only managed 4 over a prolonged period.

the lesson learnt today would be to never be stuck anywhere in any situation without money in your plastic.

my 200th post!

anyway, who is anyone to decide if someone's good enough for another?

last i checked, a relationship only consists of two people. not 2 + a million opining mouths.

so where would i be, and doing what this time next week? eeee i'm beside myself in excitement and trepidation.

i just got home not from another person's house like i was supposed to but from making arrangements for my paternal grandmother who shuffled off this mortal coil earlier in the evening when i was deep in slumber.

this doesn't feel real at all. i could hardly see her dimunitive form beneath the white sheet on her bed at the nursing home. the cremation would be later today, no wake would be held because theoretically speaking, she only has my father, mother and me. the other spawn, whose existences i only learnt of tonight, might as well not exist. besides, i believe chinese wakes are such wayangs. the more money one has, the longer the duration and the more elaborate it would be. such flagrant displays of vulgar wealth do nothing for the deceased, only serving to stroke the egos of the vain living.

i'm glad tomorrow would be the last time i step into the nursing home, no where that reeks of impending death, antiseptic and boiled vegetables could possibly be very pleasant to be around.

anyway i sincerely hope she's in a better place now, as trite and cliched it may sound.

september was an awfully good month for me, until today that is. until a conversation preceding my nap annoyed me and the bad news woke me up.

couriered cookies and hand delivered cakes would sweeten up anybody's mad hectic friday.

my waistline is cursing my widely publicized sweet tooth argh!

nonetheless, thank you and thank you!

today is another special day in pms history because the S that completes P and M has officially lived for two decades and we are very honoured to spend 1/10 of that life as pms.

now let us rewind back to the first time [definitely not the first day] i noticed you and thought, 'what a snobby looking girl!'. no surprises you thought the same about me there. but many thanks to your ex who somehow brought the three of us together and errr, ended up being ousted himself. arriving late and still having the cheek to have breakfast first were de rigeur those days and they couldn't be more fun.

fast forward to just last year, when the nation claimed M for their own and we were left to our devices so what could two gloomy, snobby looking girls do but to still arrive late for school and still go for breakfast. those days of being such bitches to certain sexually ambiguous creatures in class and then abandoning class to sit at the staircase to just....talk. so nice of us to force ming to crash our classes when he could and then heading to town [where else] after school and we'd do our usual exploring/mad copious amounts of walking or just stoning and talking.

too many inside jokes to mention but still too few to be satisfied with, i say!

it's so nice to find someone to talk fashion without feeling like a pretentious twat and a fellow swinging single with a tendency to fall into ambiguous natured...things. and then we can bitch and whine about our unfortunate choices together.

it's late august already but we still haven't found you a new favourite movie of 2007 like rent. never mind we still have a bit of time.

have a blessed birthday and i hope from the bottom of my heart that you will someday realise your double - c pr ambitions and never have to have another kotek again. we should be getting deliciously sloshed by this time tomorrow night and slurring our insults to unsuspecting strangers. i hope, ahead of time, that you have a ball and thank you for letting us be a part of it.

p.s me and M are still gonna try and be funny at your wedding.

p.p.s i hope you're dreaming of fantastic sex with a hot, generously endowed yuppie with the most gorgeous pair of louboutins on!

much love and louboutins,

the p in pms

in an unprecedentedly sweet [sweetly unprecedented?] move, the two boys at work presented me with a box of godiva's for my last day there. that really added a sweet note to an otherwise sad day.

it's rather hard for me to get attached to something, case in point, it took me something like 5 months to really warm up to everyone at work and be myself. but once i cross that threshold, it's no holding back and looking back baby.

so to the night boys.... of godivas and rock concerts... air guitars and no holding back on bodily functions... boy advice and all that 'omgomg do i look good tonight?!' questions that were patiently entertained. HM - it's always good talking movies and books with you. you wont believe how happy i was to find someone else who reads murakami at work and to have someone to fire badly hypothesized questions to. H - thank you for covering branch for alllll the times i didnt want to go, will always remember ymca and scolding you. thanks for taking all my shit and still entertaining my rubbish.

and not forgetting the girls... jasmine, chian wen, peishan, cat and most of all phoebe for talking about things that boys will never get. especially for phoebe... who i love to talk books and movies with, we couldn't be more different in the relationship outlook way but unexpectedly similar in most others. so funny how parallel our situations were with the past relationship but whilst you seem to have found happiness in someone whom i mentioned above, i'm still looking. i'm happy for you and thank you for feeling happy for me when you'd thought i'd found something special too. but i'll keep looking and i'll keep you updated.

thanks for all the memories and fun that i never thought i'd have.

/random musing of the day -

today, someone at work said, "how come you dont ask questions?"

the rationale behind that is deceptively simple, i just believe if and when people want to tell me something, then they will. there's nothing i hate more than being probed, simply put - do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

that aside, it made me wonder if i've let a few opportunities pass me by in keeping with my little habit of not asking.

the possibilities are too many : someone's number, a job opportunity or future contact, satiating an itch etc etc.

and to inject that perfunctory irrelevant note into the post - this week is going to be hell.

thank god for silver linings to get one through the day.

realistically, pessimistically speaking though, how long do such linings last before they start fraying?

nevertheless, i'm still grateful.

i just returned from the doctor's from whom i managed to procure not one...not two but three! days of mc. now who's the da bomb.

woke up after lounging in bed while relishing a rather raunchy dream that i woke up from and headed straight to shower but was stopped in my tracks when i caught sight of my face, and subsequently my right eye. specifically, it was almost swollen shut.

after digesting the possibilites of such a yummy affliction [mc! lazing at home! waking up at 4pm!], i busted my ass trying to wash my face, brush my teeth, changed and rushed out to the doctor's. conveniently, i had forgotten to run a brush through my bedraggled hair in my rush. i ended up looking like bellatrix lestrange.

nothing like a crusty swollen eye and mad hair to exude real sexiness. if i could bottle this irresistible-ness, i'd be rubbing elbows and talking about bad toupees with trump in no time.

now seriously, i wonder if the true reason of my 3 leisurely days at home is because i saw something or someone i shouldn't have yesterday. hmmm. funny how a sight for sore eyes has become merely, a cause for a sore eye. hahahah ok sorry, this is in bad taste.

nonetheless, time off is quality time. alone. or perhaps i should just go out and infect all my close friends because misery loves company. conjunctivitis is the new sars/bird flu ya'll! now i'm gonna take this time to finally finish up deathly hallows [forgive the potter related references], read some magazines i bought but haven't touched and maybe some downloaded movies i've been hoarding for no apparent reason.

greetings ardent fans and rabid admirers!

it's been quite a while hasn't it. perhaps it is time to come clean with reason behind my sporadic postings. nothing like waiting for my hair to dry at 4.00am for a refreshing dose of honesty

now the sole reason for my glaring absence from the blogosphere can be attributed to the particularly inquisitive nature of an ex paramour of mine - who within 24 hours of a new post, would question me unrelentingly should there be any cryptic, mysterious bits; very much in the style of the CIA having a friendly chat with this fella, perhaps you've heard of him...bin laden i think he's called...over a cuppa.

moi? cryptic? mysterious? never!

owing to my severe dislike of my life being put under a microscope, i've chosen to shrink back into the recesses of my dark, angsty mind, only emerging when i am feeling especially snarky or pointless.

now about this fuss about harry potter and his posse... i have to say a big thank you to the few bastards who have tried to spoil it for me but unbeknownst to them, i decided to pre-empt such acts of kindness by demanding to know the ending of deathly hallows even before i laid my hands on the tome.

i have to say, that while i'm crushed that such an excellent series has drawn to a climatic end, i also found time to identify with that particular brand of existential crisis when potter came to terms with the fact that he might die when fighting voldemort.

well, this is not to say that i have to fend off terribly ugly men togged in spiffy suits looking like they just stepped out of Details or GQ, yknow, magazines for metrosexual Muggles. but i am sure 20 year old girls who lead relatively comfy lives can feel potter's pain, in their own way of course. like not having an amorata/boy toy of the moment, not having hot water to shower with in the middle of the night, not having enough money et cetera.

now the following snippet has no relevance to any of the above except for how it is also aimless rambling but i'm beyond caring.

in my ever ongoing quest to lengthen my list of pet peeves, i seem to have found one that has been topping the charts lately.

perhaps it is me, or my lack of finesse and delicacy with dealing with the opposite sex but i can't help but notice a glaring trend in my communication with this unique kind. although armed with [i assume] thumbs that work and a cellphone with a functioning keypad AND someone who's actually waiting for a reply, these people seem to have a love of letting text conversations die off by simply not replying.

this is simply befuddling because in my culture, it is simply rude to initiate conversations and just act like you dropped dead. it not only leaves the convo hanging in the air but the poor person on the other end of your non response wondering if anything did indeed happen to you. furthermore, such situations always leave me wondering if i should bring up the prematurely dead conversations the next time we interact. all too confusing. and they say girls are the ones that are hard to understand. the nerve!

funnily, this phenomenon tends to strike more with people i happen to be feelings for. the very same kind that warms the cockles of the coldest, loneliest hearts. <3.>

to be fair, i should also broach the delicate, and very likely, reason of this new habit amongst youths. it could be that i am so boring and uninteresting these people simply fall asleep upon conversing with me. mmm...this is doing wonders for my ego and self esteem. i say, well done boys!

hormonally induced mid week rage is in full hilt right now.

singfuckingpost isn't helping, nor is the song of the week whose lyrics i shall enclose at the bottom. neither did tea and peanut butter, consumed seperately. the distance isn't helping, the thought of you surely asking me about this post isn't. thoughts of entertaining thoughts of running my keys along the pristine sides of that white convertible bmw downstairs isn't helping and neither did air guitar in the back room just now.

i can't believe singpost is withholding my miumiu and surely that is criminal. i'm sure i'd feel better if it were sitting next to me. for fucks sake the damn thing came from canada. CANADA!. what the hell is so dangerous about that place huh?! what, avril lavigne and that annoyingly addictive girlfriend song?! now THAT is criminal ok bitches EH.

i know a month from now, when i WILL have that bag on my lap, and i'm reading this again - i'll cringe. but now's now and that's that.

excerpts of lyrics from new favourite nonsense song - love it when you call by the feeling.

the weekend in so many pictures. mingky, i hope you enjoyed your spachcock, hello kitty and you could always get creative with your belt.

where do i start? what's an opening befitting of our 2.5 years?

we began with you being a stranger to me whilst you were already rather familiar with me, or rather the parts of me that i let on in my entries and what you saw when we were in the same places together.

it's so typical of you to know your prey as well as you could before you would begin a full-on hunt, very confident that i'd be caught. the sneaky ways to show you cared and most importantly, that you were better than who i was with then, bowled me over in time.

the best thing was, the sweetness and surprises never ceased and instead, they tirelessly increased even though i'm guilty of hardly reciprocating. and when i did, the smallest gesture was enough to bring you over the moon.

leaving surprises all over the place, cooking for me, telling me to get dressed because dinner will be at an undisclosed location, drawing me and caricatures of our pet names, secretly buying up things that you know i coveted and so much more sustained us for quite a while. i dont know where you found the energy and effort to center your world around me but you managed and did quite well too.

i have no idea where i found the heart, or lack thereof, to begin doing the things i did to you. i have no idea where i found the lack of sense and feeling to wreck something great, something that could've lasted for a much longer time. but you, i have no idea where you found the love and will to go on doing what you've already been doing. maybe it was a last ditch effort to show me you were the best and i do have the feeling that you might just be so but you know me like the back of your hand so salvation wasn't an option anymore.

i really couldn't imagine how you felt lying in your side of my bed, knowing i was in someone else's car, knowing i was centimetres away from someone else shrouded by the darkness and anonymity of the theatre, only coming back to you mere hours before you had to wake up for work, not that you got any sleep anyway. but all you wanted was me and i was too willful and inconsiderate to consider your feelings for so many hours.

but still you persisted with generous gestures of love but by then i only saw them as suffocation and pushed you further away. i hope you know i'll always regret those monstrous actions of mine and the all consuming guilt too.

now look what you've done, you've headbutted your way into my life and spoilt me rotten and what are my next boyfriends going to do? i'll always be expecting the same from them. the same level of security, assurance, romance, sweetness but they'd be hard pressed to even come close so i'd better come to terms with that before i made some poor innocent guy as miserable as i made you. but perhaps that too, will not be possible because to be as miserable as you would mean to have to love me as much as you. not humanly possible.

i'll be eternally thankful for all the above niceties, taking the longest walks with you, going on the funnest drives, having the nicest meals and being the luckiest girl for 2.5 years.

i know in the last two weeks of our relationship, when you were slowly moving your belongings home and we weren't really together anymore, just a heartbroken stranger and an ice cold one sharing a bed; you still cuddled up to me and made sure i was warm and watched me sleep and kissed me before you left for work quietly. didn't know i knew that huh... but those acts of normality i came to expect were too painful to acknowledge because i put an expiry date on them.

funny i dont remember the date now but i'll always remember watching you walk down the corridor for the very very last time. expectedly you turned back to wave a last goodbye and that stab of pain that struck me lasted longer than you'd think.

so get over lousy me, pick yourself up, dont let me suffocate the crazy romantic you are and make some girl as insanely happy as you've made me. as i've always told you, you'd make a fantastic husband and father someday and you only deserve the best.

call this the love letter that came too late or the apology letter that will never suffice but i hope will all my heart that you'll be happy.

love, bat.

when the butterflies stop their fluttering, i swear, i'll stop.

mm hmm.

it's fridae already! <3.>

ALMOST went to the far end of sgp after i came home but didn't. sighx.

but i'm glad i didn't coz i was in a foul mood. hahas.

when i told someone i was going for a facial, he sniggered but i dunno why. LOLS.

i almost didn't shower just nows cos there was a HUGE black cockroach running ard my kitchen. pouts. made me feel foul-er. hmmphs.

lucky mummy came home in time and rescued me. I <3>

during dinner break, the boys kept laffing at my eating habits. so mean. ):

regular broadcasting to be resumed next entry. sam you owe me a parody! teehees. <333.>

by P at 6/16/2007 01:13:00 AM | 0 comments

who made you chief speculator of my relationship past, the feelings of my ex AND my personal life?

such sweeping statements of ignorance shouldn't irk me by any measure but evidently, they do because they were made by the near and sometimes, though recently, hardly dear. funny how people who have been the most absent with the least glimpses into your life are the most vocal after significant changes.

no wonder i feel the need to be honest to the only party/parties involved and to be evasive with the rest. conclude what you want, but no one's getting the scoop anytime soon.

the mind wandered to thoughts of greece and the three of us. waking up in a whitewashed villa in santorini that's just one of many staggered ones, devouring the feta cheese crumbled onto the freshest greens drizzled with the most virginal of olive oils. wandering aimlessly through un-lost civilisations and ogling chiselled men whose names are always santos that look like mermen who stepped out of the cerulean Aegean sea. the very same one that we'll wake up to, dive into, frolick in and just want to drown in. so fucking sublime.

saw some $3000 frette bedlinen at taka today. the day i dont have to bitch about the price will be the day i make it. to sleep on sheets twice some people's salary made from high thread count egyptian cotton must be pretty damn sublime too. but for now, their tagline should be,'if you have to fret about our frette sheets, then dont even think about it bitches!'.

and for something a little more accessible for now, i can just smell sunday monday tuesday. i've a sinking feeling already that they'll escape me, like i never even had them at all. just like waking up from a great dream.funnily, it feels the same with some relationships in life.

i wish i didn't have the problem of pulling the plug on talking the people i get close to, beyond a platonic level i mean. what does it mean to stop sharing the minutiae of your life because it's precisely that - minute. it doesn't ever seem to change with each foolhardy fool that chooses to charge their way through my life.

the stories of my life always seem to start with...waiting for my hair to dry.

ok i'll try my darndest to be more creative when the next millenia lolls about and i decide to blog again.

8 depressing hours to work and i'm feeling green and pukey from drinking all sorts of nonsense in the duration of my virgin visit to butterfactory. unexpected nights are good. i didn't bargain for things like this but it helps to chuck MOST of your inhibitions into the river and just be spontaneous. otherwise i'd have been home at a goody two shoes hour of 11 and lurking online.

twas a fun night, thank you slayer and coterie. hope i wasn't intruding on anything.

waiting for my hair to dry and the moment it happens, would be my long overdue cue to end the night/morning.

we caught pirates earlier tonight and i came out of the theatre, not feeling anything about the movie, as well as nothing in my extremities. i was thisclose to being the only singaporean frostbite victim. well, the movie's 2 and a half hours too long if you ask me. at the risk of sounding like a complete idiot, i understood nothing that went on.

since when was singapore run by savages? why on earth were the chinese people so freaking ugly? is disney saying i descended from a long and uncivilised line of mongoloids? if disney has the dosh to invent technology to perfect snow flakes falling and keep churning out stupid penguin movies, why can't they dish out a little more for historical accuracy? damn nonsense. the only saving grace was mr yummy depp and his dandyness. always has to be the cute one to save the day. like michael scofield.

suddenly my fridge is inundated with all sorts of chocolate. am i giving off that i-just-went-through-a-break-up-and-am-emotionally-unstable vibe and the chocolates are supposed to be my life buoys? ok kidding, at least its nice to know the ones that were gifted had no hidden agendas....or did they..?

oh yes, one last thing about pirates. see, i have this theory that i've been expounding to anyone and everyone who would entertain my aimless rants about sequels.

if you've caught the first of a chain of movies, you are more likely to catch the sequels as well because of a subconsciously imbedded sense of loyalty and curiosity after the first movie. case in point, i didn't particularly enjoy pirates and hell, i dont even remember what went on in the first and second ones so this HAS to be the only rational explanation for my totally unnecessary eagerness to catch it right? agreed?

sam:my run is tomorrow!!!

sam:any last words to me

me:whaaaaaaaaat

me:errrrrrrr

me:what should we do with your clothes?

sam:OMGOSH I WROTE THAT ON MY BLOG

sam:this is the reason why the fuck we're friends.

me:HAHAHHAHAHA

sam:ya you can go refer to that

me: i'm posting this on my blog

sam: me too!

believe it or not, i actually saw this fool trying to drag a cat ON A LEASH around in the somerset area of town just as i was rushing to catch spiderman. i did a double take, a triple take, a quadruple take and finally gave up trying to be discreet and just openly stared with barely concealed disgust and ridicule on my face.

the poor kitty, which was actually very good looking, gave in to the spastic man tugging on the leash and humoured him by taking a few steps and then flopping down on the middle of the pavement looking as pissed as a cat can.

sam - pls stay alive tmr, pms wouldn't be complete without you.

nadia - bon voyage and have a good trip. i hope to do what you're doing when i'm your age. not that you're very old.

funny how a whiff of a familiar scent on someone totally different can bring back a torrent of memories that have long been fuzzy around the edges.

does anyone at all know where the beef noodle stall at the scotts food court went to after the entire thing closed down?

i'd kill for some right now, at 701am.

also, things i would kill for right now - no work.

- definitive plans for a good weekend. what it's only tuesday?!

some sleep would be nice right now too.

ok so i need to quit waffling between locking my blog and not. i swear i'm not so fickle by nature. it's just that... i'd rather some people not read this but i've found the solution to limiting the posts those unwelcome eyes read. now if only blogger would do like wordpress and have the password protect function for certain posts then i'd never ever think of leaving blogger.

and the weekend's here again... last one was spent as west coast park, feeding mosquitoes [me], forcing other people to walk through scary, BARELY LIT trails to visit stupid swamps in the middle of the night [ming] and denying that she'll be a control freak at her own wedding [sam].

this weekend would be nice if it'll be a little less itchy, but i dont mind some darkness if it's paired with thumping music and beer goggle [in our case, wineglass] vision and laughing at stupid spgs.

this week flew by terribly fast and i need new books to read! recommendations please.

to act intellectual a little -

socrates wrote, the hottest love has the coldest end.

ok enough with cryptic quotes from some guy who's been three feet under for so long he's probably fossilized.

otherwise, nothing much has been going on except that i've been reading some good stuff as well as feeling like a taxidermied animal in the painfully long hours that i'm awake.

anyways, here's something cute and rude to balance out that unnaturally intellectual bit.

ideal fridays.

driving around + dvd rentals + cheese fondue + alone time

i want to convert the spare room to my library and wardrobe. i think i'd never get out.

this may or may not be a a rhetorical question :

person A, has a job which pays rather well but robs her of any social and personal time as well as presenting no opportunity for growth.

person B, has a job which pays less than A's job but presents growth as well as time, with humanly hours as well. however she has [i think] got it much worse in the office politics department than A.

question is, who has got the shorter end of the stick? woof.

i've been thinking a lot... about nothing at all.

anyway person B, remember to regale us with tales of flailing fags and flagrant fabulosity while we're hunched over dimsum and hope you have fun!

i think i've been a victim of the chinese standard of beauty.

allow me to explain. i had just gone, on quite a whim to cut my hair for the first time in something like 2 years and i gave the green light to the lady to wield that straightening iron. well thank heavens i'm only going to be follicularly challenged until the next wash. although later i'll be going to far east and guess who'll be fitting right in to their ah lian demographic? i am beyond thrilled.

and i seriously dont understand the chinese [and asian] obsession with stick straight hair. what is with this love of never ever wanting to distinguish yourself from the pack? it embarrasses and perplexes me to no end.

now i can pass for our china neighbours - who by the way, are going to get it from me if they dont stop behaving like dog eating barbarians.

i think i'll get back to the lovely ladies of the l word. who all have nice hair. pfft.

i wish they would stop sending those offers. every few days, there that familiar logo stares back, challengingly and mockingly.

sometimes i dont even violate the perfect whiteness of the envelopes and send them straight to the bin, where they really shouldn't belong. but occasionally, an irregular shaped brown envelope piques my interest, like tonight, when i should've been too tired to give a toss but i did, and i always always regret it.

it sucks to the high heavens to be sick enough to feel like shit but just not enough to go home with my tail in between my legs.

ok back to willing those viruses to work harder, with false promise of not letting chemicals run their course through this temple, or the ruins of it.

ciao.

what happened to february? well good riddance to it, since it wasn't so kind to me, all fucking 28 days and 672 hours of it. hello march, be nicer will you?

funny that sam mentions a loss of emotional outlet in her latest entry because that was exactly what ming and i were talking about on the way home last night.

ok so the three of us might not be talking about the same thing per se but still! so ming and i were talking about not being able to cry. whilst he vowed never to shed tears again since last year, i just can't seem to cry because it seems to be the only release i seek these days. makes me even moodier when i begrudge my own rather shabbily taken care of body for not being able to even allow me the simplest cartharsis we can give ourself. i just want to give myself that one good bone cleansing, soul shaking cry then move ahead and plough on, if that's not too much to ask for.

anyways, i checked out canele's new paragon outlet with elke and found myself wishing that we had more time to sample the savoury dishes instead of just wolfing down 3 desserts shared between us. but then again, it might not have been a good idea because it's teeny tiny and you're practically sitting elbow to elbow with fellow diners. i say just buy a slice of every beautiful cake and every macaroon home, sit on the floor with someone who doesn't mind an early onset of diabetes just like yourself, and dig in messily.

come tonight, the aroma of fat stewing mushrooms would permeate the house and that, together with endlessly chowing on red pieces of barbecued swine and assorted cookies, best represents chinese new year to me. heck, i dont even have new clothes, nor do i ever get generous amounts in my red packets.

anyways, the reason why i am able to bring this post to you is because, on the much feted day, where men stand around sheepishly holding flowers for their beloved because i guess they were shot by that obese baby in diapers, carelessly wielding that bow and arrow - i stupidly twisted my foot. while wearing flip flops. let's take a moment to consider how much of a klutz i am, shall we.

but that pain and inconvenience of hobbling around brought big returns for without which, i wouldn't have enjoyed a very long joyride from my boo. no flowers, no big helium filled balloons but still lots of fun. who needs expensive artefacts of love when you can let the whistling wind whip your hair around, sing out loud to songs on the radio, laugh at the people who call in and get to see a very nice view of jb, which when seen from far, is actually rather quite tolerable.

as a footnote, well not that i want to make my mother a footnote, it's just that i just found out that she's offered to cook for the geriatrics at the old folk's home my paternal grandmother is at. i think if we had a lot more money, she and my dad would be doing some serious philanthropic work. which begs for the question - where on earth did i get my bitchy, judgemental genes from then?

i can't believe that it slipped my mind that it is a friday after looking forward to it since.... last friday. 6 day work weeks have messed up my sense of time royally. of course it helps that one day lapses into the other seamlessly and you live by rote.

the thoughtful boo brought over some books for me to read when he last went home, among which are rich dad, poor dad and some paulo coelho. i'm actually looking forward to reading rich dad poor dad because i admit that i've been fostering an interest in the financial world ever since the commencement of my job. even though i'm on the bottom of the food chain, it has given me insights into that world; the kind that reading the money section in papers doesn't give you

as for the paulo coelho book, well, i can't say that i actually get him. sure i understand that his works always hold some profound meaning to be bestowed on you upon completion of them but i'm definitely not one of those people who rave about his books. i suppose i carry a more than healthy dose of skepticism when it comes to these inspirations tales and because of that and what the reviews i hear and read about, i tend to dip a toe into the opening pages of such books as opposed to plunging headfirst into trusted favourites of say, chuck palahniuk. i feel like one of those people who visit tibet or india in eager seach of enlightenment and return with the rest of their tour group feeling cheated. it's like ok, let's fork out some cash, visit some mountains, temples, see [but god forbid, experience] abject poverty and expect to leave feeling like a whole new person. except they dont.

ugh my hair is so greasy i'm expecting bush to drop a call sometime soon to negotiate oil prices. bitch had better call after 4pm cos that's when i'm waking up tomorrow.

i feel like a zombie at work...which directly explains my ineptitude and sloth like pace of grasping things. it is terrible to be so ineffectual and unreceptive in the face of duty, however unintentional it may be. i swear, this is going to be my last ever job wherein money, and not passion, is a driving force. makes me wonder if there are any hookers out there who happen to be nymphos too. heh.

i loathe and grieve with all my being the demise of my personal time. the grave's still fresh and the longing for it is still as intense as ever but what i'm doing here is just grasping at wisps of its memory. it's like, me time? what's that? it's ridiculous how far ahead i plan for my only precious off day yet i sometimes inwardly groan at it because free time = coming up with ways of spending money. ironic how with more money, my spending has become more draconian.

i've been reading with interest how so many bloggers are quick to vilify the fashion industry for promoting eating disorders. obviously, rubenesque beauties are a thing of the past and even more so in asian society. i haunt local and international forums where threads like 'what are you wearing today' feature prominently. the glaring difference between both forums is that the girls on the local ones always seem to slyly fish for compliments while showcasing their outfits, which i'm afraid are rarely exciting. the compliments they seem to seek most of the time are related to their physique and it reeks of a need for general, public approval. sadly, replies pandering to such neediness are always abundant, sincerity however dubious. it's a vicious cycle you see.

the international ones however, are noticeably focused on fashion and while there are alot of compliments flying around, one gets the feeling that they are invariably more heartfelt and insightful.

the one thing i can never get around is the asian preoccupation for fairness and thinness. both seem to be tied to the pinkerton syndrome but with all that literature and movies out there that show that these caucasians we put up on a pedestal are slowly but surely dropping dead because of obesity, why are we still looking towards them with such adoring gazes?

i could write a paper on body issues and asian society but i need to sleep, because being inscrutable, uninteresting and slow at work expends energy too yknow.

i think i'm in love with the french vogue that sam's mom brought all the way from...you guessed it...france. it would be my only reason to pick up french because while there may be online translators, try as i might, some things will still be lost in translation.

the issue i have is the dec/jan 07 one. also known as the one john galliano edited. the surprise bonus was the 07 calendar featuring 12 gorgeous pics of karen elson with her alabaster skin suspended in fine lingerie and bondage.

there's just something markedly different from vogue francais and american. this is especially apparent in the spreads, where there is a darker undercurrent with hints of cheekiness, as if everything is an inside joke. vogue US, while commendable for striving to be edgy without isolating their more stuffy readers, still remains very diplomatic and 'safe' in that one doesn't need an understanding to 'get'. noticeably, both mags are extensions of their editors. the one with the elfin face and signature bob who always looks put together and the other one with the brown hair and ungroomed eyebrows and penchant for black leather.

this issue is especially interesting because it is somewhat of an editorial retrospective, an homage in gloss if you will, to galliano. it is incredibly interesting to see his ideas, self portraits and pictures with other famous friends put together like a stylish scrapbook is really something. no other designer will deign to swing down like a swashbuckling pirate at the end of his own show from the rafters in keeping with a pirate/nautical themed collection.

kudos to vogue fr for having a designer, and not a celebrity, guest-edit. and they've just won me head over heels over for having the venerable, irreverent, irreplaceable [will there ever be enough superlatives?] force of nature do the issue.

the weekend saw pms reunited once again for a lunch at maxwell, where hygiene doesn't seem such a priority; then breaking up again for sam to return to her desk to fulfill her oompa loompa duties while me and ming planned to catch perfume.

catch it we didn't but walk, we most definitely did.

from ann siang to seah street to arab street. for the less geographically inclined, that means walking from tanjong pagar to raffles hotel to bugis. despite the unrelenting sun beating down on our black and denim clad bodies, the distance didn't faze us much because it was punctuated with much song and laughter. it's been a while since we spent some time together, no thanks to national slavery.

next was to meet my boo, sam and nadia for the cafe del mar opening at sentosa. logically speaking, getting 5 people to gather isn't so hard given the miracles of modern technology and a decent sense of time. alas, it turned into a bit of a logistical problem.

the cafe del mar opening was full of people. underdressed, overdressed and dressing that screamed lookatme! kind of people.

within 5 minutes of entrance, sam went : i need a drink. i went : i need a drink AND cigarette. well, even though everyone was wildly optimistic, the drinks never came.

anyways i think i owe sam and ming a heartfelt apology for behaving like a spoilt brat. sometimes, the word compromise suddenly ceases to exist from my dictionary but i guess i'll have to try, even if it means learning it one letter and one syllable at a time.

- have a cigarette because i was so bloody stressed

-SAVE MY PRECIOUS COMPUTER FROM THE EVIL CLUTCHES OF SCARYNESS.

tech wiz i may not be but resource and bloody lucky i most definitely am.

let the adulations and exaltation pour forth minions because if i am woman enough to save my most prized possession from the vise grip of dark twisty technology mo, then i can most definitely take your adoration.

in nicer but not less self centered issues, thank you pramry tree nadia for spending half of my break with me basking in the glorious sun. you have no idea how much you brightened my day. see you on saturday for pan's labyrinth?

does it mean that just because i complain much less of my current job than i did with my previous, i hate it less?

hmm i dunno, maybe it's an acceptance, albeit reluctant, that this IS what normal people do. wake up, go to work [preferably on time], make meaningless small talk with colleagues, fulfill your work obligations, veg out on the journey home and shut down physically and mentally.

also, i realised why daft women's magazines are always offering diet tips. that's because office women are always stuffing their faces. i mean you dont see vogue or nylon having such articles do you? this is the first time in my life that i've snacked so much honestly and it's bloody terrifying. i dont want to wear g2000 shirts in pastels and pencil skirts in dark colours for the rest of my life [not that i do now], nor do i want to look like the rosie o'donnell of hippos. erk.

well i've been literally taking steps to alleviate this rather vexing, potentially self-image and self-esteem crushing problem. see i live on the 11th story and so i've taken pains to climb up said amount of stories. it'll be nice to be able to wake up early and do a lap or two around that ginormous field in front of my block but what's sweeter than being able to do that right now; is sleep. adios amigos!

before the first day of the new year ends, and because i have nothing to do, let's do a list of top 3's of '06.

top 3 movies

☺ little miss sunshine

☺ tony takitani

☺ the prestige [maybe]

☺ the time traveller's wife, most def fo sho!

☺ haunted by chuck palahniuk

☺ a tie between seven types of ambiguity by elliot perlman and extremely loud and incredibly close by jonathan safran foer

☺ eating at that restaurant at the beaufort with boo. special day deserves special company deserves special food.

☺ being pissed drunk at city of angels. and everything else that transpired before.

☺ my birthday.

☺ not spending my money wisely

☺ not reading enough [a direct result of spending too much time on the net]

☺ not being nice enough to the people to deserve niceness.

☺ to establish better relationships with my loved ones, who wholly deserve that effort at the very least

☺ 2.55, muse by april?

☺ school in july and to do well in it.

☺ ruthlessly edit my wardrobe and make wiser purchases.

☺ smellyboo

☺ sam

☺ ming

☺ nads

thanks for making an impact in my life and just for being trustworthy, funny, lovely people. love you all.

so, can anyone here say for sure what were they doing exactly at the stroke of midnight? no?

well i can.

11.57 - scrub hair with shampoo. make sure it feels squeaky clean. apply conditioner.

11.59 - exfoliate self with unnatural vigor while allowing conditioner to soak in.

12.00 - hear retarded people shout 'happy new year!' one after another. those are probably the same people who are only let out from the storeroom once a year because their families are ashamed of them. well maybe. just maybe. it's plausible dont you think?

12.10 - mop off stray rivulets of water, grow sullen at the reminder of the dire need to install bookshelves in room.

after that, i went into this mini organising dervish with books and magazines. the aftermath is a stack of really old issues of vogue and elle and some other random riff raff strewn around the floor. let's hope i dont slip and fall on because i dont see backbraces being really hot for spring/summer.

so for those of you who didn't get the memo that being squeaky clean is in and being shoulder to shoulder with some stranger at some club that ripped you off for cover is just so out, well haha to you all uncool peeps.

ok i really need to sleep now. but not before i go on ebay. ta!

can i say...that i actually had fun last night despite notdoing anything very concrete except eat and drink and eat somewhere.

well the itinery was - dinner and gift unwrapping at sam's.

- bar baa black chic

-checked out butter factory only for it to be closed for some private function

-walked down to clarke quay to check out the cannery

-well the cannery is full of small, pretty bars. unfortunately the patrons didn't match up to the decor.

-headed to boon tong kee after which i must say, was actually the highlight of the night for me.

-last port of call was some random bus stop opposite boon tong kee.

i dont feel like i can be blamed for being less than enthused about christmas eve, because i had started the day at 11am in town doing extremely last minute shopping, work[!!], then home to get ready. bloody hectic.

and then the night kind of ended with a mosquito bite on my left boob. ho ho ho to you too!

so my alexandre herchovitch top thankfully arrived in the mail just in time for its debut for new year's eve.

i'm actually psyched for christmas eve, doing dinner at sam's with cock swimming in wine, excusez moi, i mean coq au vin; and the whole gift exchange thing. i hope you like your presents sam and ming! actually i can't wait to see your faces during default pressie opening time. heh.

with the annual advent of christmas every year, i inevitably get into the bah humbug mood with perhaps, the exception of this year. funny how i'm kinda excited for a celebration of the birth of someone whom i dont quite believe in. can't dispute presents, good food and the indomitable presence of some sort of frenzied joy though i guess.

in about ten hours or so, i'll be gainfully employed again [eek! and yay!] so with that, i bid, beloved blog wart, a good night and happy holidays.

so the three of us were at din tai fung at paragon on wed, when we picked up our chopsticks and lo and behold! we saw this :

are singaporeans so stupid as to not know how to eat little dumplings that they need very specific instructions? do i hear a resounding yes? oh hell yeah.

is din tai fung so afraid of aforementioned retards scalding their mouths, complaining and writing into the straits times' that they have to have instructions? oh hell to the yeah.

how lovely, to know we live in a world of retards who know not how to eat but sure do know how to complain and the restaurants who coddle and bow down to them. lurrrvely.

p.s - you know it's a restaurant by chinese people for chinese people when the person in one of the illustrations smiles and her eyes disappear!

so this week, i had a culture vulture day, a secret garden day and a sopping wet mother nature day. i think i was doing so many things and out practically everyday because i'm due to start work [again!] on wed so i was overcompensating. just as well, since my working hours are a little odd, so i'm prepared to lose any semblance of social life left.

culture vulture thursday was at the national museum for marie theresia's life exhibition. who on earth is marie theresia? just think of her as marie antoinette's mom. pity photography wasn't allowed because it was a very well done exhibition. nevertheless, guerilla shutterbug ming still managed to take some covert pictures.

saturday was spent at my secret garden, a bistro-ish place that truly lived up to it's none too creative name. the name also reminds me of one of my favourite childhood books, the secret garden by frances hodgson burnett, alongside the little princess by frances hodgson burnett also and little women by louisa may alcott. i think i see a pattern here... lonely girls with princess complexes and overactive imaginations?

anyways unlike many other bloggers, i have a problem whipping out a camera in public and taking pictures of my surroundings and food, hence the badly taken, measly one picture of secret garden. however, disliking taking pictures of my surroundings is public is only second to the embarrasment of taking self shots in public. honestly, i have no idea how some photowhores do it.

sunday was get in touch with kampung girl day.

alas, such an alter ego doesn't exist at all within me, so suffice to say, pulau ubin is not somewhere i'll be frequenting much. nevertheless, it was something different, although waking up before 1pm on a sunday [or any other day for that matter] is sacrilege. it was nice to have mangy dogs coming up to you, taking bumboat rides and seeing so much greenery. however, the copious amounts of loud singaporeans and the unrelenting rain did the trip in.

i can't even think of something vaguely witty or funny to say. just read on. identities not fully revealed to protect the innocent, i mean, stupid. it is your choice to assume who the initials belong to.

p says:

wah lan eh 18 days to 08

p says:

eek

s says:

o8?

p says:

HEY WHAT ABT XMAS BRUNCH??

s says:

07 right?

s says:

no

s says:

06

p says:

........

p says:

WTF

s says:

NOT O6 MEH!

p says:

i've been living in 07?!

s says:

ITS 2006@

dont bluff

s says:

CHECK YOUR FUCKING CALENDAR!

s says:

my mother say you so sotong hahahahhaha!!!!

s says:

supreme de le sotong

p says:

ok now i feel super duper stupid

after not blogging for so long, i only have two questions to ask.

a : how do book critics/reviewers decide which books to laud and which to put down?

i mean, do they go to book reviewer school, cos if they do, where do i sign up? reading books in bed for a livelihood sounds pretty damn good to me. see also, food critic, movie critic.

best seller lists, i understand. they are driven by sales figures. but surely these sales figures were motivated by say, a glowing book review, that if printed in a widely circulated newspaper, will be privy to thousands, if not millions?

what i'm trying to drive at, rather incoherently might i add, is why do we need reviews?

is human curiosity no longer enough for us to find out for ourselves what we like and dislike?

or have we become so harried that we no longer have time to browse in bookshops, read blurbs, admire cover art that we need someone to prod us in one direction like sheep?

i can safely say that my favouritest, favourite and not-so-favourite-but-i-still-love books were not selected and enjoyed by the good graces of someone else's opinion.

b : is same race racism ok?

after reading an acquaintance's blog entry that smacked of rather blatant racism, i got all huffy. oddly, this is the first time i've gotten angsty over someone's mindless, insecure barbs over my race and sex. although it's not our bloody fault that chinese girls are genetically predisposed to be not-fat and fair, it was still quite unlike my alter-ego, that righteous chinawoman with the thicket of growth on her pits to emerge. hell, i didn't even know she existed.

SO ANYWAYS.

after giving the race issue some thought [because i didn't want to be like that eejit blogger], i thought of same race racism.

same race racism means oprah allegedly not supporting rappers of the same colour, chinese putting down bengs/ cheena piangs, malays putting down mats/minahs, indians putting down makkels etc.

i noticed it is the *higher educated ones who are culprits of this discrimination, and me and my friends are guilty as charged. somehow, education [which arguably leads to better formed opinions], oneupmanship and race will never be independant of one another.

*by higher educated i mean, being more educated than people of your race are stereotyped to be.

is it right that just because i'm chinese, i can put down and criticise other chinese people of being 'cheena' and 'mungen' just cos they dont behave/speak like me?

but of course, i'll never stop making jokes at the expense of my race. slitty eyes, less than adequate packages for the boys and arseless girls.

i can't believe i caught happy feet. sam you should just rely on me and ming to suss out new movies to watch from now on ok. ming, don't forget about quinceanera!!

the movie is of course, saccharine sweet, another forgettable production churned out by the disney conveyor belt.

well it's basically about a misfit penguin who decides to triumph against the traditionalists and overthrow the system that inevitably exists and rules any culture/society. of course, a little bit of anarchy happens and then everyone goes with the flow again. yawn.only the 'latino' penguins were the saving grace.

no, actually that lovely blue bottle of bombay sapphire saved the night. sitting by the pool and ranting was enjoyable. we actually spent a good 5 hours at ming's poolside just talking our mouths off and ming having his spazzy moments. happy feet indeed haha.

today i got a taste of the tai tai life and got plucked, oiled, gelled, steamed, masked and massaged like a chicken ready to be made into an accompaniment to your rice.

well it was an experience and i will be returning cos it's a bleddy early christmas present and it's a rather pricey package.

but can i say...i really hate lying there and being forced to listen to elevator music?! that crap is ridiculous and it should be played to torture extremists and terrorists, not ladies who just want to look better!

so for my boo and whichever poor sod wants to vie for my hand in marriage, you can heave a sigh of relief now because i'm quite sure i can't be a tai tai. just feed me well and shut it when i plonk down 2 g's for a bag.

so even though we were there to 'work', we didn't due to human error and disorganization, much to our annoyance.

but soon we got the best seats of the house where adults in horrendous, retina searing hello kitty accessories hung around waiting for the launch, we had our entertainment.

and we made like fraudulent scammers and seamlessly joined the grownups with hello kitty slash childhood issues.

and of course, when there is free swag to be had, it means it has to be swigged.

"my head feels heavy already."

"yeah my eyelids are drooping already."

and the time? 7.30pm.

in my haste to finish up the entry yesterday, i neglected to mention...

-the world's tallest man outside some random mama shop called KK mart when we went there to buy toiletries and alcohol. according to my boo, there was the world's smallest man too, whose height was below the tallest man's knee. in my haste to look for toothbrushes because dental hygiene takes precedence over gawking like a true blue singaporean, i didn't notice the tiny guy. it didn't take much to notice the tallest guy though. in fact, he looked downright miserable, with arms folded defensively and shoulders hunched over. a crowd was gathered before him, taking pictures without regard for his dignity.

-and what i didn't see was what was around me when me and zaihan took the rides at times square. before one of the rides started, i decided that humans are basically a sado-masochistic lot, well apart from those who already are open about their tendencies of course, because we would happily pay X amount of money to get thrown around and thrashed about and get off with smiles effectively wiped off and faces a very fetching shrek like green. the bravest idiot award would have to go to my boyfriend because he went on this ride that was basically like a pendulum that not only swung side to side but a stomach churning 360 degrees. i am the wuss to his idiot.

it feels so good to be connected, in more ways than one, again.

for those not one of the three people who knew both of us went to KL for the weekend, well, we did. and i'm hella glad to be back.

back to my spacious bathroom - bathing in the hotel room's excuse of a shower was a mental torture because it was inevitable to come in contact with the walls and/or shower curtain. shudder.

back to my bedroom - gawd knows how clean are the sheets and pillowcases. i had trouble falling asleep because i was stressing myself out over how clean [dirty?] the sheets are. yes i'm the girlfriend from hell because i'm an anal bastard.

also, KL is FUCKING SMELLY. i really have no idea why but the smell of raw sewage rotting in the sweltering, unrelenting sun seemed to plague our exploration of the city.

ok enough complaining, because i'm too tired and grumpy and constipated to do a proper entry, this will be a condensed one.

the five senses of KL

smell

taste

so the very last module's results are out, earlier than i expected.

this means that i can no longer pretend that applications are looming and potential rejections are impending.

i'll have to dig up that application form, all filled in, under that stack of prospectuses [prospectii? like cacti?], yknow, like the proverbial dust under the rug.

this is even worse than broaching the topic of going away with my family, because i really really dont take rejection well. i fully blame being an only child and a scorpio [yes, always blame the star sign] for being severely recessive in the rejection gene department. see also : super inflated ego.

and once my application[s] are on their way across asia pacific, and assuming a school stupidly wants me, there's the decision of going for the feb or july 07 intake.

i have the july option because someone wants me to stay longer.

i'm still not sure whether i want to stay on this claustrophobic island for an additional 5 months because apart from being egoistic, self-indulgent, judgemental and spoilt rotten, i am also very selfish, but of course that's already a given isn't it. it's like... having cheese fondue without the cheese. ok well, bad analogy but the best thing that happened today was having cheese fondue for lunch and dinner so shut it. i'm afraid i'll be miserable for that 5 months i could've already spent assimilating myself with the new environment and end up taking it out on the people around me.

by P at 11/14/2006 11:38:00 PM | 0 comments

dear blog lumps,

let us take a minute to bow our heads and clasp our hands in a moment of gratitude to the person who birthed McDelivery. may him/her enjoy good health, get laid much more often than the average singaporean who prolly does it once a year when they get drunk and an abundance of riches.

in times of need such as impending doom, i mean deadlines, break-ups or just an uncontrollable need to have something in your mouth to masticate, let us not forget the kindly operators and deliverymen who work through the wee hours of the night to deliver us joy.

as miss salt and mr transfatty acids rapidly course through my arteries to mingle with mdm nicotine, while mr carbohydrates head straight to nestle himself in the sacks of cellulite my thighs contain, i would still like to say a big thank you to the now not so evil golden arches for such a wondrous service.

in one of the books i've recently completed in two days and which also successfully made it to my list of Favourite Books of 2006, the 8 year old protagonist, oskar schell, describes feelings of negativity i.e sadness by calling them 'heavy boots'.

upon hearing that, i felt like a miserable, cynical old twat who is also moneygrubbing.

anyway because i'm waiting for my hair to dry, here's what i'll put my hypothetical one billion to :

-get top of the line film industry people to make movies out of my favourite books. i dont care if the film is ten hours long. i didn't say i would be inviting anyone else, did i.

-get a jet i guess? i mean that's what ostentatious rich people do right?

-buy all the movies and books i want.

-donate a copious amount to animal societies. i prefer four legged critters to those two legged ones.

-buy properties that MUST have top of the line kitchens.

i need a cigarette right now. no, not the really nice post-coital ones but the ones i need to have because my blood is boiling.

why cant bloody australia have cheap internet packages with unlimited amounts of megabytes downloaded?? how am i supposed to maintain my sanity if i can't even download my shows and movies??

i think i'll really have to like, peddle drugs or something to not survive on rice and soy sauce with an egg on sundays or something as a small reward.

for your amusement, here are two conversations i had with one imbecilc customer today :

#1

there was a weird cutting problem with two fleece jackets of the same model.

imbecile : how come this one and that one so different ah? me : errr i wouldn't know?

hello, do i look like one of those poor sweatshop workers in some province of china where the wares in the shop come from? at least they dont have to deal with fools like you.

#2

me : this is a new piece. imbecile : how come this one smells like that ah? me : dont all new clothes smell like that?

fucking retard. if you can afford to walk in your own cloud of chanel no 5 or whatever, you wouldn't be shopping in that shitty shop already wouldn't you.

no wonder i have to make good use of my breaks to read as much as i can, so i can replenish those brain cells that self destruct the moment i step into that shop.

i want PMS therapy NOW!

roarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

so finally the long overdue post is here.

on the twenty ninth day of october, these two people, who happen to be rather low on my list of people to finish off, in stripes... what, you say? that you can only see one person in stripes? well use your imagination and think harder...

...they came here...

...and down that little flight of stairs...

...to celebrate a royal birthday...

...of someone whose initial is P...

...who had strict orders from the duchesse de teban not to rip this apart like she'd have wanted to...

...so enough with the suspense already! who on earth is this mystery princesse whose birthday had such pomp and circumstance?!...

...ah there she is, complete with a retarded kindergarten boy's school project. the unidentified orange spiral in the middle of the project seemed to suggest that the princesse has a nasty case of ringworm, as the duchesse already said in her blog. for that, the moat crocodiles had a grand time with what was known as duc d'woodlands to us and chow to them....

...the duc d'woodlands in his former wide-eyed glory...

...the duchesse high on life and trying on the tiara for size...

...the birthday princesse...

...princesse and duc in better times...

...the duchesse should just look into her talent in wrapping elaborate presents instead of taking lousy pictures...

...princesse none too happy at having to end the night early. look what happened to her friend, cinderella. oh wait... she got to marry and bone this hot prince right? ok well going home early's fine then...

...the princesse's face suspended in disbelief at having to hail the royal vehicle...

...the duc really loves pink curly things...

i love you guys!!

contrary to the pictures and should anyone wonder...no i didn't have the tiara on the entire night

in mr sandman's haste to shoo me into his realm last night, i forgot to add that he wholly approves of my work because it is the panacea to my insomnia. of course he sympathises with me when i whine about the fatigue that lodges itself stubbornly into my bones. also, i would like to add that mr sandman takes the form of wentworth miller, which makes sleep all the more sweet.

this entry serves no purpose, unlike the rest which see me bitching and/or whining. quite telling of me dont you think?

anyways i just want to say i'm quite amazed at how swimmingly well this day went. i must attribute it to a good lunch with my aunt in town. these days my lunches comprise of myself, the voices in my head, ipod to drown said voices, book and astoundingly shitty food.

small things used to make me happy but now, even smaller things are able to make me catch myself smiling for no reason, like just now at work. amazing how adverse [well, at least to me mine are] circumstances can make one appreciate things on a whole new level.

anyway it was bloody nice standing at the entrance of the shop and talking and laughing with nitin and mora. these days it's been really rare to have people speak to me in english AND make me laugh so when that happens i'm all like whoaaaaaaa endorphin rush.

ok the sandman's here...i mean wentworth...tsk no i mean the sandman... i mean... zzzzzzz

should anyone be wondering what have i been filling my days with.... well this entry's for you.

i've been hawking the world's ugliest winterwear to pain in the ass heartlanders but that is just a part time thing. my full time occupation is rueing my misfortune [self pity sobsobsob] and thinking about the shopping which is the raison d'etre of this job. the apparel is so fug, i'm afraid my retinas are permanently damaged from having to face them for 7 hours a day.

this woman who's apparently the merchandiser came in today before closing and threw her weight around, telling my colleague where and how to place the stock. i had to physically distance myself from my colleague and her and hold my tongue before i blurt out, 'you're doing a really shitty job.'

also, biatch seems to never have heard of the wonders of nair or upper lip waxing because miss follicularly blessed has a moustache that would make the world's hairiest man retreat to a corner and cry in shame.

the day was salvaged when he popped by and i swear, my face lit up and my mood was immediately elevated. this is what the presence of someone whose intellectual leanings [wah so pretentious] are of yours. working in an environment where people claim reading is 'so sian lor' does nothing for the stimulation of your grey matter. it was so nice to get a respite from having to speak in pidgin chinese and to have to translate your thoughts from english to chinese and stutter and stammer and struggle through a conversation.

3 more months, i keep telling myself but frankly i'm surprised i've lasted 4 days thus far.

i've learnt the secret behind surviving [barely] this drudgery, is to not think.

yes that's right. stop those cogs from turning and stop exercising those cells which are quickly deteriorating anyway. to be a zombie and be mechanical, to not give a flying fuck and to master fake smiles and forced enthusiasm. this shit is scarily simple.

i can really commiserate with ns friends when they say they are getting dumber by the day because i am feeling that way too.

oh also i feel the need to discuss my really shitty work ethics right now. i hardly do anything but busy myself by patting ugly piles of clothes and pottering around the shop. less is more and i can't disagree. if need be and the manager is not around, retreat into the storeroom and immerse yourself in a book of choice. here's to hoping my superior takes more days off.

i'm beginning to look forward to sunday for some desperately needed PMS therapy. already i couldn't shut it when i met ming, what more sunday eh. yay. something to look forward to.

birthday which i'm not particularly enthused about, november, december, january, febuary.

why couldn't it come sooner?

but still, nothing's set in stone yet, so i'm just musing, is all.

i'm up at 6.30am! on a saturday!

ok never mind that. the point of this entry was triggered by a picture of this book:

i had the most random flashback when i saw the picture on a stranger's blog.

i was of primary school age, maybe about 10 or 11? i was at the mcd's near my place eating and reading it when this lady next to me leaned over and said, she read it when she was younger and had enjoyed it too.

i think i was a bit astounded by the fact that a grown up was talking to me about books while my peers couldn't even do that. plus the fact that it was quite the random encounter made me quite happy

why can't random encounters happen more in sg? they make life much more interesting, dont you think?

but of course, this is just me.

i vehemently dislike it when i read on fashion forums how those self-proclaimed industry insiders snidely refer to those who are apparently not as with it as they are.

such blatant snobbery and childish nose thumbing is a moot point because after all it is to a large extent, inevitable that these 'fashionistas' have at least one piece of - h&m/mango/zara/topshop/primark/supre... well the list goes on...

and who do all these high street retailers earn most of their dosh from..? thats right... your so called masses.

karl lagerfeld, luella, paul &amp; joe, derek lam, viktor & rolf... what do all these labels have in common? nothing, you say, but astronomically priced threads? think again.

they've all collaborated with high street labels to bring the high end to what is the lowbrow to you fashion mavens. even they have realised that having stores that are invitation-only or in the chic-est arrondisements just arent doing it anymore. just because someone who has a vested interest in fashion but just aren't getting the front row seats yet doesn't mean they won't ever. just because someone doesn't have the financial means to dress in those elusive labels you crow about doesn't mean they can be put down and herded into terms subtly derogatory, like 'masses'.

well, in case you hadn't got memo, here it is - in everyone's blind bid to be an 'individual', they have all unknowingly lumped themselves into one big trying-so-hard-to-be-painfully-hip mass.

these are the people who intimidate and put down people like me. people who want to carve a niche for themselves in the industry in future but are too dumbed down by the painfully obvious oneupmanship in the virtual world as well as reality. this is also why i dont talk about fashion here. well apart from the fact that i like to hoard things i find because i'm a selfish asshole...

all that said and done.... i fucking despise juicy couture. i can't believe idiots fork out like what? USD200 for original velour bags in blindingly horrific colours like hot pink/lime green. i've burped out more originality and puked up better looking things.