Of Domestication And Growing Old...

My friends once made the comment that I'm damn domesticated, like I'm all bloody ready to settle down or something. I sincerely hope they were joking. Please.

Just because I can cook, bake and clean doesn't mean I'm halfway into marriage. Any halfbaked woman (and man!) can follow instructions. Just because I have a longterm boyfriend doesn't mean you're gonna see me carrying screaming brats (erm, my children) and walk around town without makeup because I just don't have the energy for it. *pout* I'm not domesticated, so there.

Sigh, I'm just tripping because I feel so old... Where have the carefree days of booze and giggles gone to? I was at Westmall earlier with my mum doing grocery shopping. Hey, I was at home, she was offering a good lunch, why the heck not? The problem, or horrified self-relevation, occurred when we were at the supermarket. My mum got me to weigh stuff, pick fruits, etc. And then it hit me. I can DO this stuff. Worse still, I actually ENJOY doing this. This is going beyond the usual oh-it's-so-fun-to-walk-arond-large-supermarkets-aimlessly. This was ACTUAL grocery shopping, picking into the bottom of the barrel to get the best fruits kind. AND I DO IT WELL.

Before you think I'm having another one of my bimbotic, emotional panics, trust me, it's not. You're reading the blog entry of a girl who seems to have misplaced her misspent youth (every youth should have one) and leaped directly into adulthood. The scary realities of adulthood. I look around the supermarket and I'm filled with this fear that I would be like all these other women: pushing ahead with large baskets, asking the butcher for the best cut of the meat and laughing teasingly when he reassures you that it is indeed the best. Poking at fish and choosing vegetables. Even the well-dressed ones were equally... AUNTIE.

Oh god, I know I always joke that I'm going to be a tai-tai, but at the rate things are going, I'd probably be a housewife. Scratch that. Even if I do become some corporate woman, I'd still have to do this. The routine, the normalcy... The lack of MINDLESS FUN. Is that what age promises? Routines? Shudder, shudder, shudder.

To top it all off, I had a fight with Fadz a few days ago. Something to do with indecisiveness. Anyway... in place of the usual yelling and silent treatment, I spoke to him coldly and logically. Handling it all maturely and calmheaded.

Not good, not good at all. Another step towards becoming a coldly independent, detached individual who views the world with a cynical glint in my eye. Someone who looks at the person she's talking to and thinks of what the outcome of the conversation should be and actively steers it that way, instead of just enjoying the pleasure of the conversation of allowing things to go as they wish.

Age. It's the ultimate disease. It wears you down, tears your soul and takes away your optimism for living. You leave among people who feel the same way and slowly, but insidiously, you eat away at each other. Nibble, nibble, nibble. Death (in all it's many forms), comes a knocking.

Gaah, I'm depressing.

And So The Days Go By...

The first week of school passed in a blur. I went for lessons, sat there and daydreamed, got excited about being in the city campus then became thoroughly disappointed when I figured there was only so many times you could go to Raffles City in a week... Went for volleyball training, met OCBC folks, did work for Ventures, and sqeezed in time with the honey. All in all, just a normal week at school.

I was in school on a Saturday for a Ventures meeting. Sometimes, I feel like Ventures is complete rubbish. Here we are, preaching entrepreneurship, when we haven't dabbled in it ourselves. We can come up with brilliant ideas and spout business theory, but at the end of the day, most of us are still without businesses. Ok, so I'm in the OCBC project, and that was started from the ground. But what next? When will I get to hold and feel my own business? I don't have a clue, and I doubt many of my fellow members do either. It's so easy to say, oh, I'll be a businessman in the next 5 years.. or oh, I'll be a millionaire by the time I'm 35. Erm, hello! It's so easy to say, but where's your track record? What have you done besides read business books and spout theory? It's like being the Minister of Entrepreneurship (FYI it's Vivian Balakrisnan) but have never been an entrepreneur. All talk baby, all talk.

Anywayz, just some griping. Volleyball isn't going well either. A lot of the senior members are losing steam and playing competitively isn't very attractive anymore. Going for regular trainings at night in ulu Toa Payoh, getting injured and tired and still having to go to school the next day.. For what? For shit, that's what.

Hai, I'm just feeling disillusioned. All my CCAs are turning out to be major BS. And it's making me cynical. Why do I even bother? I just want to daydream and be happy and do things that make me happy. I can spend hours reading and blogging and wondering about the meaning of life, NOT spending it in Seminar Rooms the entire afternoon listening to people spout bullshit and what have you.

Need. To. Have Fun. Like the week before school started. Check out some photos:

Hang out with the KB gang at a Shanghai Hotpot place in Bugis. The food was ok, and the soup was damn, freaking, bloody hot. I gave up eating from the hot side and opted for the wimpier, but much safer normal broth side.

Bloody bunch of posers. Heehee. Left: Me, Bobo, Yi. Right: Wen, Lotte (back from America, no less!)

All gone! And even though we were stuff to the gut...

There's always, always space for dessert! Or like Bobo puts it, we have a different compartment for dessert. Think 4 stomachs like a cow.

Oh yeah, the highlight of my weekend:

French manicure!

.

.

.

.

I'm such a bimbo.

Bangkok, Bangkok!

Wheeeee!!!! Bangkok is such a fantastic place to go to for a holiday! Ok, so this visit to Thailand was highly sanitised because my parents didn't like dirt, grime, heat. Which means... they didn't like most of Thailand. So most of the time, we were walking around in malls, cooling our feet in air-conditioned places, not taking tuk tuks cos it's too hot and dangerous and hence we only took cabs. Oh well. It could have been worse.

Pros of going with the parents: You eat well, live well. We ate seafood, had fab Chinese food at the hotel's Shanghainese restaurant, and cool Thai food. Bliss.

Cons of goin with the parents: You are restricted, slightly hampered, and can't do a lot of things, ie no experiencing real Thai culture as it's too dirty/grimy/dangerous/hot. Hai.

But let's see some pictures, yeah?


Sawadeecah! Welcome to the Bangkok Airport


The very lovely, Sofitel Silom Hotel. Excellence service! Really nice rooms and gorgeous bathrooms!

Ahhh... Hotel buffet breakfast. Sure bloody hits the spot.... Nothing says indulgence like a chef cooking a customised omelette for you at 9am.


Drinks with Cheryl at the hotel's cool pub, V9. It's on the 37 floor, and overlooks the Bangkok skyline. Breathtaking.

My parents celebrated their 29th Wedding Anniversary on Sunday. 29 years. In today's fickle society where 40 is the new 30, marriages are falling apart faster than a snap of the fingers. And to some extent, my parents are still very lovey-dovey. They still hold hands, my dad likes to feed my mum. It's... sweet.

This picture was taken at the hotel's Shanghainese restaurant. Again, great view (38th floor). The lady at the back was this Shanghainese singer (who took song dedications) to lend atmosphere to the setting. And the food was... amazing. Shark's fin soup (don't go all moralistic on me!), Peking duck, prawns and other stuff. Wow...

So what's the loot? Nothing much lah... Haha.. We only spent 3 hours at Chatuchak market. I know, what sacrilege. But the parents were hot, hated the smell and not-so-subtly told Cheryl and I to cut it and to head back to the hotel. Haiz.

I want to go back... And this time, I'm going oldschool: bagpacking.

Sing with me everyone! Bangkok, Bangkok!

Hugs and Kisses

Farewell, my lovelies, for this Goddess is going away to beautiful Bangkok for an idyllic 4 days. Ahhh, bliss. Shopping, eating, clubbing, and more shopping and eating. With luck, I might have time to sit by the pool but carefully avoiding the horrid sun. Yes, I'm pale and loving it. So no snide remarks.

The room is finally painted, furniture has been rearranged and the place is significantly barer and cleaner. For those of you who have been to my room before, you will be shocked at the change. Yes, I'm trying my upmost best to preserve it's current pristine condition. And besides, I threw out one heck of a lot of things. Will take me some time to get it back to it's previous messy condition.

Will take pictures of the room when I come back. Cos right now, it's looking damn... empty. I'm buying lots of home stuff for Chatuchak to make it a lot cosier.

Until we meet again... Au Revoir. Don't miss me. Hah.

Hugs and Kisses. xoxoxoxo

MIA

Inspired by Cheryl moving out, I decided to paint my room. This weekend. So that I can roam Chatuchak next weekend and furnish my new room with lovely Thai items.

Wah piang, this is much harder than it looks. The last time the room got painted was when I moved in 7 years ago. The room was previously occupied by my grandmama, and although she passed away when I was 7, the room got converted into a toy room for my dad's own pleasure. But when I turned 13, I finally bugged him enough into giving my a room cos it REALLY wasn't cool to bunk with the parents at that age.

So anyway, the father just wanted to get the room up and running ASAP and he cut corners. He only painted 3 of the walls, and left the ceiling untouched. Yes, even though the wallpaper on the ceiling had been there since the house was first built and was peeling in certain areas, my dad figured it wasn't about to fall on me and left it that way.

Fastforward to today. After a mindnumbing, dust-raising-flu-inducing, neck breaking 8 1/2 hours, the wallpaper has all come down. Every last, freaking bit. I had to scrap, squirt water to dissolve the damn hardy glue that refused to give up the wallpaper, and incurred a bloody flu.

But I'm that much closer to my goal. Hooha!

So I'd be MIA tomorrow.. and maybe Monday. If you want to contact me, call my handphone or home phone. I don't think I will hear the tinkle of an SMS.

See you in a few days. :)

Mambo Baby!

Went Mambo-ing last night. Do you believe that I'm a Mambo virgin? What can I say, I'm a late bloomer. But I've never believed in squeezing myself between sweaty, meaty people and not having the space to really dance. But last night was like, screw it, enough guys are gonna be there. Surely they'd prevent my from getting the breathe gorged outta me. And I was right (almost).

Although the initiation into the land of Mambo was fun, I doubt I'd be going back anytime soon. There were just too many bloody people, too many bloody split drinks, and my clothes were thrashed from being split on, stepped on and pressed unceremoniously against wet counters. Urgh.

But aside from the grousing, highlights of the night had to be dancing with this cute and hot ang moh, seeing York dance very, ahem, interestingly, seeing half my friends get wasted really early in the night, and basically, chilling out with people I haven't seen in close to 2 months. Amen to Zouk for bringing friends together. Cheers.

Phuture's music was really good; pity there bloody wasn't space to move at all. At one point, this stupid guy barged across the dance floor and effectively pushed me aside, causing me to bang into Marcus's friend Jiaming, and because the dance floor was too crowded, I was basically stuck there for a mortifying 5 minutes. Yes, the bloody pusher couldn't move, and yet he kept elbowing me aside. I was pressed up against Jiaming and all I could do was giggle like a stupid bimbo and said Sorry. And poor Marcus. He was so stoned and yet he was trying to be chivalrous and push the guy against me. I dunno if he did it out of herocism for me, or pity for Jiaming. Anyway, his efforts went to waste cos he was so drunk he didn't even have the energy to stand.

Shawn was another knight. He had to keep sober because even before 12, Marcus, York, Sydney and Xiao Hui were slightly over the bend. He spent the night making sure Marcus didn't fall off his chair and that Sydney didn't crumple onto the floor. Hiak hiak, Sydney is damn fun to dance with can, sober or otherwise!

And me? I was fine until I stopped moving. And then the earth started to spin slightly. Wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience, but for someone who hasn't seen a club in 2 months, been cooped up in a horrible work environment, the spinning sensation was liberating. And of course I had to take advantage of Shawn's broad (bony) shoulders for a quick rest. Sigh, if only he didn't bloody reek of smoke.

Mambo was fun enough, I suppose. At first, the synchronized dancing was faintly amusing. But after 3 hours of seeing the same lame (uncute) guys on the elevated platforms, doing the same retro dance steps with their hands but basically not moving much, it felt too much like a para-para dance competition. Yueegghhhs.

So the moral of the story is that for a great night out, get a few girlfriends who know how to shake their asses really well, lots of booze, great music, chivalrous male friends, and the ABSENCE of lame dancing Singaporean men. I know, the last item is a bit hard to find, but a girl can always dream. Or visit an SPG hotspot. Amen.

Pretty Words, my dear, Pretty Words

Sometimes, I find myself hearing someone speak, but not knowing what the hell the person is saying. It's almost like background noise. I know that person is speaking English, but somehow, my brain refuses to acknowledge and process the words.

And very so often, people speak for the sake of speaking. You speak to make a good impression, you speak to make sure that the other person registers your presence, you speak because you want to be heard. Be damned what you are saying, just make sure you say something.

I was at OCBC yesterday night, doing yet another presentation to the big boss of OCBC, Andy. Finally, FINALLY, he has given us the go ahead. No more shilly-shallying, no more refuses. The proverbial greenlight. We are good to go baby. Now we just have to convince the SMU side... haaaiizzz... More presentations. But that is grousing for another day.

But what I was faintly disgusted with was the amount of bootlicking that went around. I know, I know, this is the norm in the corporate world, and you have to impress the boss, but seriously, when it comes from your own team members, I can't help but feel a taint of disgust in my mouth. I know Shawn is going to say I'm naive again, but naivety be damned, let me maintain some integrity.

Salad was the worse at the bootlicking. He would rapturously repeat whatever Andy says, cut into conversations so that his voice is heard and repeat comments made by others - just louder. He would laugh at jokes that are not funny, ask questions meant to give the impression that he is an eager disciple, and basically, the all-round lapdog. And to think I used to view him as having a backbone. The more nonsense he espouses, the more disgusted I get. Urgh. Get a backbone dude. Asking about career prospects when you have told me you would never join OCBC due to it's "uncool" image; saying yes, yes, yes then when the people are not around, laugh and deride their comments as foolish. It's disgusting, I have no other word for it.

And what I find most disturbing is that he tries to justify his actions as things he HAS to do. Things that he DOESN'T have a choice about. That's bullshit. That's just paying me lip service. At the end of the day, he makes the decisions. So perhaps he should start living with them. He signed up for the OCBC project, which from the start stated that it would have the requirements of an internship. And yet, with this knowledge, he accepted an internship from IBM. Hence, he could only attend meetings after work and such. And now, he is still on internship, still doing the OCBC project, and he choice to take up 2 courses in term 3B. Whose fault that he doesn't have time? Why should I have to listen to you bitch about not having a life when you made the decision to overload yourself? Why should we allow you to not work for one week on the OCBC project because you are swamped with work and school? You made the decision to take up so many tasks. Now show the responsibility to live up to them.

And my project leader, Jolly, allowed him to do so. Why? Because he was smart enough to ask for some other responsibility that made him seem like he was still very involved. Because he said the right words and sounded like a responsible group member. Helloooo, the meeting didn't even go through. That means he got off his share of work just by claiming some invisible responsibility. Pretty words, my darling, pretty words.

The corporate world is treacherous. So many people go through life saying things that they don't mean, doing things that they don't believe in. And yet, they can justify their actions with a few words. Are those words meant to make the person listening to your grousing feel better, or is it for yourself? How many people still have the courage to say what comes to their mind, or do they take the "safe" and "calculated" route of rewording, repackaging and saying things that are "correct" as opposed to "the truth"?

Jolly is equally bad at this. If there was anyone more adept at telling white lies and believing in his own "goodness", he's the man for you. He praises and drips compliments with equanmity. He calls all the girls "Princess" and "Sunshine" and says things like "Anything for you". I mean, it was amusing at first, but after a while, it just got sickening. And the saddest part is that he truly believes that he is a sincere person. He thinks that making everyone like you, no matter through what means, is being sincere. He thinks that even though he feels like throttling someone, because he chose to smile and praise the person, it means that he is a good person. He thinks that he can yell and argue with me and show me his ugly side, but by smiling and pretending it never happened, it makes him a good person.

Hypocrites, every last one of them.

But what is worse is the realization that I'm not much better. I'm not objecting to their ways. I may sneer and roll my eyes, but at the end of the day, I still meet up with them with a smile on my face, and shoulder my responsibilities.

We all learn to move on. We all learn to survive. Ideals and morals fall to the side as we do what it takes to survive. And come out victorious.

Haha.. more comforting words for an eroding soul.