Dreamer, Traveller

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 15:03:00 +0000

New Year Resolutions... Who Gives A Fuck?

I know, I know, it's not like me to get so angsty.

But it's that time of the year where a standard sweep of blogs will reward you with entry after entry of pointless new year resolutions (seriously: 20 new goals for 1 year??) that will most likely never be kept.

I gave up trying to set new targets circa... I can't even remember.

I suppose the feeling of helplessness and the futility of it all was heightened this year, thanks to having to work on New Year's Eve AND New Year's Day.

I bid farewell to 2009 in the office. Too exhausted to go out, I simply went home because all I could think about was sleep.

Think I managed to put in one message to Fadz before blacking out.

And before I knew it, it was dawn and time for me to get to work.

I spent the first half of 2010 alone in the whole goddamn office as other people gradually stumbled in after 12pm.

As the pond scum in my organisation, I was assigned the morning shift to "hold the fort".

Not that I was REALLY complaining. Because I'd take peace and quiet over having to face a stupid monkey ANY day.

As a sidetrack, it's completely farcical and ridiculous for a 34-year-old grown man to pass notes back and forth with another colleague behind my back, because he wanted to bitch about me.

I was so sorely tempted to shoot an email welcoming him to the Age of Technology, and suggesting that email or msn might be a better platform for office bitching.

At least you look like you are working.

Plus, you save trees.

Anyway, it's hard to think about 2010 as a new beginning, when it seems so similar to the old year, doesn't it?

To top it all off, I think the stress at work caused me to have a mild panic attack over the weekend, when I finally got to get some rest.

I called it a quarter-life crisis, but thinking back, it sure felt like a panic attack.

The sudden panic that there was something wrong with my life. The nonstop questioning within me.

Like I've accomplished nothing in my 2 years of work, and there was nothing to look forward to. And the saddest part was, I felt like I couldn't muster enough energy to GIVE A DAMN.

At first I couldn't pinpoint the source of the discontent growing in me, and even began to question if I was unsatisfied with my relationship with Fadz. Luckily, he bore it with good humour and faith (as usual) and talked me out of my hysteria.

But honestly, I wake up now with dread in my heart whenever I think of work.

Oh god, how long more can this continue?

If there is one thing that I want to do this year, is to travel more.

Once I've gotten the wanderlust out of my system, then I'd decide what to do with my life, career wise.

In case you are mistaken, I'm not looking to climb the corporate ladder or be some high-powered executive.

Hell no. All I'm asking for is a job that pays me fair wages, working hours that do not tear me up from the inside, and an environment that actually cultivates learning instead of pure stumbling along.

For now, I'm just trying to channel happy thoughts.

And the travel year is shaping up!

Jan: A highly-anticipated spa getaway to Batam with the KB girls. Nothing like cheap labour and A&W! to rub some tension out of me.
Feb: Heading to the Big Apple and Boston to meet the sister. Can't wait to run my fingers through snow, breathe in intoxicating crisp, cold air and be amazed by the sights, sounds and smells of New York even in winter.
June: Fadz is finally, finally graduating! (no longer dating a student! double income!) Am persuading him that it's worth spending money on a grad trip. Maybe Istanbul. or Bangkok. Maybe Australia. Haven't really decided.
Dec: Maybe finally get to take that long awaited Europe trip with Sylvia, Kristin and Uncle Shawn! Eh Kris, if you reading this.... can still go or not, Mrs Han-t0-be?

Anyway, that's the plan for now.

How am I financing it? Through sheer positive thinking, sucking it up at work for now... and eh, I dunno, praying for money to fall from the sky.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 08:33:00 +0000

Chilling and 'Laxing in Laos

Have been in Laos for 5 days so far.. and I think I'm finally getting into the pace of things.

By pace, I mean, a super slow and relaxed pace.

Everything starts in the morning but Fadz and I are rarely awake.

So by the time we do wake up, the town is usually on its way to lunch, shutting down for an hour(or five) for a quick siesta.

The sun is surprisingly hot for winter, with even the dogs too lazy and hot to bark at people.

My mum told me to watch my food intake, cos according to her, Laos is a FOURTH world country.

Oh well, broke all the rules on the first day. Iced shakes, back alley eating, not to mention all the roadside foodstalls...

Hah. Am in Vang Vieng right now. Kayaked around some amazing limestone karsts on amazingly clear and blue Nam Song River.

Or like Fadz says it, I pretend to paddle for a couple of metres, then stop to admire the scenary as he labours behind me. HAH!

Speaking of Fadz, if I have to hear one more 'wat' or 'Buddha' joke, I may come back a solo traveller.

Yes, he's that sacrilegious.

Off to Luang Prabang tomorrow!

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 14:09:00 +0000

Off To Laos!

Title says it all.

Backpacking through Vientiane, Vang Vieng and Luang Prabang with Fadz on a shoestring budget cos, ya know, he's a poor student, and I'm... always poor.

Will be gone from the 12th to 22nd.

CANNOT.WAIT.

Oh, and I managed to paint my room pink before I left!

I so love NOT working.

Ciao! Catchups when I come back!

*kisses and hugs all around*

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 03:50:00 +0000

Wahaha, Twilight is hilarious!

Managed to catch the 2nd Twilight installment, New Moon, yesterday by watching it off the Internet.

Hey, you think I'd actually pay good money to see that show? Eh hell no!

Besides, the show is evidently earning enough money from its rabid fans who'd probably watch it 10 times each and buy the DVD and merchandise. It sure as hell doesn't need my 10 bucks.

Anyhow, the show is as horrifying as I thought it would be.

First, Rob Patz. Can I say he's only cute from certain angles, and if you squint? And his pale, scrawny body... eh, so not cool.

How is that hot, I ask?

Spike from Buffy would have whooped his ass in a heartbeat.

And Taylor Lautner. Ah Taylor. He put on 30 pounds so that he can play Jacob Black in the 2nd movie.

Less pale, more buff, definitely yummier.

Pity he sounds like Mickey Mouse (an affliction that also plays my dear sweet David Beckham).

As for Kristen Stewart. Let's just saying heaving as if you have asthma does not count as dramatic acting.

I think I was most entertained by the vampire Aro, played by Michael Sheen.

And that's only because I couldn't stop thinking... How the hell did he go from Tony Blair in the Queen (sublime, excellent movie with superb casting), to Aro in TWILIGHT????

Then I remembered, this is the same dude who played a werewolf in the critically panned dud, Underworld.. so yeah, anything to put food on the table right?

As one critic pointed out, he's done vampire, he's done werewolf. Now he just needs to play Frankenstein or a mummy in his next movie, and he'd have completed the holy trinity of horror movies.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 15:43:00 +0000

Ah Sweet Therapy

I love press conferences held at the Environment Building.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing special at the building per se, that gets me all worked up.

Rather, it's its sweet location that I'm really mad about.

See, the building is only 2 bus stops away from Far East Plaza, which after all these years, is still one of my favourite places to shop at.

Sure, if I was rolling in dough, I would perpetually be decked out in expensive clothes, bags and shoes.

But when you are living on a salary as pea-sized as mine, you learn to adapt and forgo branded goods.

Instead, I flock to FEP, which promises everything from Korean-made dresses that are hundreds of dollars, to "made-in-korea" knockoffs that go for $20.

Throw in shoes, bags and accessories that I can change with great frequency without feeling a wallet pinch, I'm all for shopping at FEP.

And if think the place is only for teens with no money, well I'm an adult with no money. So up yours.

Anyway, what I love to do is... whenever time permits, I would traipse down to FEP after an event at the nearby Environment Building, grab a bite, or browse through some shops.

Take today for example. I had 2 hours to kill between events, and after a massive headache from the first event, I was ready to throw up in fury and anguish.

So... it's off to FEP for some therapy. Even just trying on clothes makes me calmer.

The plan was not to buy anything.. just TRY IT ON.. and I promised myself I wouldn't spend unnecessary..

I mustn't, I musn't, I musn't...

Ah, who am I kidding.. I bought the freaking top in the end. And felt so much better for it. HAH.

Which is a good thing. Because it put me in a better position for my 2nd job, which REALLY nearly pushed me over the brink in frustration.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 13:41:00 +0000

The Trip That Didn't Happen

The scenario: breaking news from the wires that a ferry sank off the coast of Sumatra.

Starting point was Batam, less than an hour's ferry ride from Singapore.

Editor jumps to action, mobilises me with few instructions except... get to Batam and give an on-the-ground report.

I speed home, grab the passport, throw some supplies together and peel off to Harbourfront.

Realising there are THREE ports in Batam, I check with all the counters to figure out where the doomed ferry left from.

Turns out, it's not the port of call popular with Singaporeans and is well developed.

Instead, it's the port that does not even have a hotel close by and the last ferry would have left for Singapore before I even arrive at the port.

Panicking, I call for further instructions.

Boss: get there, file a report, and take a taxi to Batam Centre.

Cameraman with me is not happy with the plan. Gives me a once over look and declares that it's not safe for a female to be traipsing in the night in an ulu part of Batam.

A battle of word ensues with my editor. To go or not to go?

That's when I was asked pointblank - am I afraid to go?

Yes, I say. My stomach was blanching at the idea of driving in the dark in Batam, racing to get to the town centre. As the cameraman says bluntly, the roads are not lit, you do not even know if the taxi driver is leading you in the wrong direction. Bribes are one thing, but as a female, worst things can be done to you.

Me to cameraman: would you have gone if I was a male reporter?

(without no hesitation) cameraman says yes.

Indeed. And for the first time, I truly felt the weight of being a female journo.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 06:26:00 +0000

And I'm Off....

To Langkawi! With the folks. I know, short notice, but hey, soooo needed a break.

Hopefully I'd have some great pictures to upload soon!

You know you love me :)

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 15:23:00 +0000

I'm still in the office, waiting for my editor to clear my story. So that I can voice and produce it in time for it's broadcast tomorrow morning.

And it seems like he's never gonna finish before midnight.

Whine, whine, whine, I hate working nights.

It's creepsville in the office.

And dead tired does not even begin to describe how exhuasted I am right now.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 13:55:00 +0000

Nut-nut is not a term of endearment

I read in 8 Days that Fann Wong calls Christopher Lee "爱爱" in private as a term of endearment.

As if struck by a bolt of inspiration, I turned to Fadz one evening and starting calling him "love-love" in my most manja of voices.

And of course, being Fadz, he gave me his patented "what the bleagh!" look.

Annoyed, I told him to christen a term of endearment for me too.

After a short pause, guess what the brilliant man comes up with?

NUT NUT.

So pleased with himself, he called me nut-nut nonstop for the next 5 minutes.

Why, someone please tell me, why I'm in love with a sadist?

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 06:13:00 +0000

Excuse me, are you really gay?

Man, am I confused (I seem to be doing a lot of that recently, eh?)

But, seriously, does this look like a gay man to you?

This was from a shoot for Details magazine (gotta love liberal America!)

I love Adam Lambert, his voice is practically an orgasm.

And I was really cool with the whole gay thing, cos his talent outshone his sexual preference.

But that's how I view Adam. And now this?

Again, how is that a gay man???

Frankly, I think he's bi.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 03:16:00 +0000

Confused

Huh, the 4-day work week party seems to be over.

If you recall, my dear company reduced our working hours and our pay at the start of the year due to the financial crisis.

This meant I had a 4-day work week, but less moolah to throw around.

And I really got attached to the shorter work week. Ah the glory of flitting in and out of empty shopping centres on a weekday! (of course, I also had less money to spend, so it was a weird catch-22 situation).

Well, seems like the ol' company is bouncing back, and the 5-day week is being reinstated.

That means the old pay is back to.

But but but.... back to a 5-day week?

However will I survive?

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 01:58:00 +0000

Just Plain Crazy

I've only been working for like what, 1.5 years? So aside from the various part time jobs that I did during the school holidays, I would probably say I still have a lot of the world to see.

And that includes dealing with crazy, manipulative, psychotic co-workers who masquerade as friends.

Seriously.

See, there's this person in my office whom I thought I was getting along with rather well, together with a third colleague.

We'd hang out, meet on our off-days, eat, shop, go for drinks after work.

Then things started to get crazy.

The two women (in case you can't guess from the obvious hormonal overdrive) had some squabble, screamed at each other, engaged in a cold war... and then it kinda tapered off.

Now admittedly, let's call her... X... well X, is not an easy person to get along with.

She's super protective of HER space, if a speck of dust blows in from your direction towards her, she'd hold you accountable for being dirty and intruding on her space. We sometimes share equipment to do our work, but beware if you dare to touch HER things. And if you leave her workspace different from the way she left it, all hell breaks loose.

She'd get into a snit, ignore you (if you're lucky), or tear you to shreds with malicious, harsh words.

She sometimes alternates between bursting into hysterical laughter in the office over unknown causes, or will ignore you for days over something you may or may not know that you did which offended her.

But when she needs a favour, she'd look at you with wide eyes and start talking again.

Anyway, you know me lah... you want to act like a two-face person, annoy me, and I blow up.

Hey, I'm definitely not perfect either. But at least I'm upfront about it. You piss me off, I let you know it.

So somehow, I managed to piss her off in... I THINK... the last two weeks. That's when the icy chill started anyway.

She wouldn't speak to me, answer my questions in monosyllables, attempt to rearrange her face into a blank stare, but I can obviously feel she doesn't want to have anything to do with me.

And it's really uncomfortable, because she sits next to me.

After dealing with her moody shit for so long, I really can't be bothered to find out how I offended her this time. It's really ludicrous.

So I gave it back to her. You can practically feel the Berlin Wall going up between our two workspaces.

But she REALLY pissed me off when she deleted my birthday greeting on Facebook. I mean, seriously? Are you nuts? That petty?

So whatever man. I totally did not want to get in the middle of the THING she was having with my other colleague.

But since that incident, I suppose you can say she's drawn the battle lines.

And yeah, the other colleague isn't talking to her either.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 15:44:00 +0000

Yawnz... working 12-16 hour shifts ain't fun honey.

Suddenly, I find myself pulled in a bazillion directions at work. And of course, everyone has their own agenda. So what's mine? Just treading water and trying to keep my head above the surface.

Haha, and I think I managed to piss off a gay editor. Called him and another guy "Bert and Ernie". Soooo did not appreciate that. Warned me about OB markers and crossing the boundary. Whatever dude.

Trust me to have a foot in mouth moment, right?

Anyway, nothing like a bit of Glee to perk me up.

Bear in mine the kids are supposed to be high on drugs. Which explains the bad dancing and super fast speeches.

It was girls vs boys week!

Girls rocked vocally, but the hair flipping just flippin' annoyed me!

And Finn is a hilariously bad dancer!

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 04:16:00 +0000

Fucking Incompetence

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Seething with rage at the moment, in case you can't tell.

Nothing annoys me more than incompetence and poor planning. Especially last minute changes.

Especially when I've made plans that are destroyed through no fault of mine.

knn. Just because I'm cheerful and easygoing, does not mean I appreciate being used as the last resort to sort out your mess.

Get your bloody act together, before too many people recognise your incompetence.

I'm not talking about the 3Fs - family, Fadz, friends.

Go imagine what else in my life can fuck me up so badly.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 13:53:00 +0000

Tragedy, Joanne style

Let me tell you a tragic life story, MY tragic life story.

So today, I get recalled from my off day because there's a housing story and that's my beat.

That's ok, not that tragic. Quite commonplace, in fact.

I dress casually, all ready to run around to do interviews on the streets later.

Not my favourite part of the job, but again, not tragic.

My event ends and I'm supposed to go on air in 10 minutes to give a live report.

Needing to pee badly, I rush off to the toilet.

Here's where it gets tragic.

In my haste to answer nature's call, and get my act together in time to file a LIVE report, I tug a little too vigorously on my jean's zip.

AND THEN THE ZIP SPLITS.

Panicking, I pull my shirt in a lame attempt to cover my gaping crotch.

If I don't move too much, it's actually quite hard to tell that my zip's updone.

But for the rest of the day, I'm tugging my shirt, adjusting my pants, all in a lame attempt not to flash my white undies at the rest of Singapore.

In the office, at the canteen, out on the streets....

Sigh.

Why do such things happen to me?

That's another thing that goes on my shopping list.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 05:14:00 +0000

The Brutal Nature of my Job

I'm getting ready in the morning, suitably attired for an 8-hour shift in the office and dressy enough to meet Li Wern for dinner and giggles in the evening.

Putting on a flowery skirt and curling my eye lashes, I step back in satisfaction as I survey my appearance in the mirror.

It's 9.15am, which means I'm running late as usual and would have to resort to cabbing it to work.

No biggie, especially since my tight skirt means climbing the overhead bridge would be a minor inconvenience.

Suddenly, my phone "beeps" and my heart skips a beat.

No one texts me this early.

No one, that is, except my early-riser of a boss.

True to form, it's a message from my boss. Change of plans today. He needs me to check out a hotline call, a suicide.

Glancing back at the mirror, my bright pink skirt stands out inappropriately for such an assignment.

Sighing, I change into sensible black pants, mentally putting aside my brown chocolate heels in exchange for sensible black walking shoes.

Half an hour later, I find myself at the scene of the suicide. A police tent is erected at the foot of the HDB flat, presumably covering a dead body.

Turns out the hotline caller didn't sending us on a wild goose chase, which has happened before.

A large group of people have congregated, surrounding an elderly woman who's screaming and crying, shouting incoherent phases in the direction of the body.

I stay back, surveying the scene, trying to decide how best to approach the family.

A family member breaks away from the pack and I stalk her as she climbs three flights of stairs to her house.

I call out, startling the woman. My sensible black shoes make no sound.

Obviously distressed, I gently ask for her identity, and she says she's the deceased's daughter-in-law.

Swallowing my own revulsion, I then ask about the deceased, trying to piece together the identity of the man, and the reasons for his sudden death.

The woman stutters and breaks up, offering pieces of information, but eventually directs me to her husband, the man's eldest son.

I approach the son cautiously, who's with his brother and sister-in-law.

I have to switch to my weaker language, Mandarin, and attempt to coax more info from the grieving family, staring straight into 3 pairs of red eyes swollen from crying.

Their father was old and sick, I learn. He moved away to a nearby estate many years ago but came back to his old home to end his life. Stricken with multiple illnesses, unable to eat solid food, living on milk and pain, the man somehow managed to walk many streets to his old home.

Snapping out of their dazed confession, one son extols and pleads with me not to report the story, as it's a personal family matter. Besides, death probably brought their father a sense of release from all the pain and suffering, says another son.

Knowing that I can make no such promise, all I can do is say over and over again, "I'm sorry".

And in my heart, I know that if I was in the same situation, I would have screamed at any insensitive reporter.

I head back to the office with a heavy heart.

Story written, broadcasted, published for all.

And I'm left contemplating over the brutal nature of my job, which makes my life and emotions unpredictable.

A perfectly sunny day may start out brightly, but can change in a snap.

I'm just doing my job, so why do I feel like such a beast?

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 14:43:00 +0000

Glee Video of the Week!

Oh.My.God.

Can the show get any more fabulous?

When it manages to get a tough, muscular, football team to do Beyonce's "Single Ladies" dance, it has me swearing allegiance, if you can't tell already.

And just a little office toilet humour.

See me and this other colleague whom I don't recognise end up in the two-cubicle loo at the same time.

We close the door, pants comes down, pee starts.

After I'm done, and I SWEAR, the other cubicle's occupant was still merrily peeing away. Twice as long as I took, in a steady steam. Towards the end, she even did a couple of crescendos with a series of "pssst" "pssst" "pssst.

That woman was holding in enough liquid to water a football field.

And of course, I had the uncontrollably urge to laugh.

At least I had the decency to rush out of the toilet before bursting into fits.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 04:45:00 +0000

Must Counter the Bad with the Good

Big change at the office. Since the company is not ready to tell the world yet, I suppose it would do me no good to blab it on the World Wide Web, even if only a handful of people read this.

But suffice to say, it APPEARS to be more work, but not more pay. I shall wait and see what happens once things really take off.

As our dear Labour Chief says, we must improve productivity! Produce, produce, produce, cattle! Watch our for that whip!

My whole office is definitely not happy with the changes but alas, being mere mortals and minions, things are always beyond us. Paid slaves, that's what we are.

Anyway, to counter to misery, I went out and.......

BOUGHT A Wii!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With Full Band Kit!!!

Fadz and I shared the cost.

10 minutes before we bought the thing, we were discussing who would get what should we break up.

Haha, yes, we are very practical/morbid/ge gao folks. And since I paid more, of course I get the console. He gets to keep the Guitar Hero Full Band Kit. Hmmm... maybe it would be enough incentive to get back together should we break up just so we can make beautiful music. HAHA!

But the thing is a health hazard to unfit people. We played for hours on end over the weekend, and since Fadz was still fasting, we didn't even stop for water!

So all that drumming, tennis and boxing really took a toll on me. At one point, I couldn't even lift my hands higher than my shoulders! Then my sides started to ache so badly that I couldn't even find a good position to sleep.

Sigh...

But, still super psyched!

Except I'm now in the office, on a public holiday, working. Bleagh. Can't wait to go back to my Wii man.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 16:14:00 +0000

So Anyway...

I was complaining to Fadz that out of the blue, my Dad started lecturing me and advising that I should go queue up for a flat, cos it takes like bloody 3 years to get a bloody PUNGGOL flat these days.

This coupled with some not-so-subtle jabs from friends and colleagues that I should be fasting for Hari Raya cos I'm "half-Muslim what"....

So there I was whining, like hello, somebody hasn't even proposed to me yet, what talk of getting a flat.

So Fadz being Fadz, said, "I have to concentrate on getting a ring and whatnot, where got money to buy a flat? Why don't you stop spending so much on shopping and save up for the flat instead?"

Like totally -_-'''

So in a fit of annoyance, I was like "does this mean if I get you a ring, you'd pay for a flat?"

Fadz: "sure. I'd use the ring you buy to propose to you and then I'll give you a flat".

Idiot. Told you he wasn't romantic. And mean. And surly.

Dunno why I bother talking to him. Better off watching Glee. Humpf.

New episode!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 13:20:00 +0000

Beware the shoe pervert

Urgh, there's a serious sicko/pervert/weirdo running around in my block. Not sure if he/she is afflicting my neighbours, but I'm this close to setting traps for the bastard/bastardette.

I live on the top floor of my HDB block and there are only 2 families on that floor.

Unsurprisingly, we tend to extend our use beyond the gate and colonise the corridor with random stuff like shoes, bicycles and whatnot.

With 3 women in the house, my family puts most of our (considerable number of) shoes outside in the corridor, in a bid to save space and not overrun the house with heels, slippers and shoes.

For the past couple of weeks, there's been a truly SICK pervert who's been stealing our shoes.

The strangest thing is, this asshole is taking only one side of each pair of shoe.

That's right, you read correctly. ONE SIDE.

For god's sake, if you want the shoe so badly, at least take both sides!!! What the hell are you doing taking only the right side of each pair of shoes???? Do you have like 3 right feet?

So far, three pairs of high heels have befallen this freak of nature.

And they are not even new, clean shoes. These are well-trodden, slightly smelly (hey, you try wearing shoes every day and see if there's no foot smell) shoes that have been through quite a bit.

So either this person enjoys my foot odour (eww), is somebody with a sick sense of humour, or an alien with 3 right feet.

I'm so bloody annoyed. Yes, it gives me an opportunity to go shopping for new shoes, but sooner or later, everything ends up outside due to space constraints in the house.

Yes, we do own that many pairs of shoes.

So I curse that said thief to damnation and beyond. If it's a guy, may his hands rot and penis fall off. If woman, curse you with eternal bad fashion sense, bad breath and droopy boobs!

Maybe I should think about setting mouse traps, alarm systems and CCTV.

HUmpf.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 16:03:00 +0000

So Gleeful!

I just love American TV! Is it the bigger budget, larger pool of talent, or better creative writing that make US productions a bazillion times better than anything Singapore could churn out?

Anyway, stumbled upon this new show called Glee. Incorporates music, song and dance into good ol' fashion teenage drama angst.

I know, I know, I should be so past the teenage thing. And honestly, many themes such as celibacy and social alienation are concepts that no longer sit with me.

BUT.. and it's a big heart, taken with an open mind and drawing on my teenage reserves, the show is still highly entertaining.

If you're a fan of Moulin Rouge and Coyote Ugly, you'd be a fan of Glee.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 14:21:00 +0000

Depression

It's utterly depressing that after 5 days of heavy medication, my illness is still not getting better.

I'm in a constant state of panic and taking my temperature so frequently it feels like the thermometer is permanently in my mouth.

And yet, every time things seems a little normal and I go off the fever meds, my temperature goes up again.

Do you know how horrible fever medication is? I've lost my appetite, it makes me want to gag, my mouth is always dry.

And my cough hasn't gotten better either. I've been coughing so often, deep, racking coughs that leaves me breathless and gasping for air.

And it sounds like I have a lot of phlegm, but it seems like it's all stuck in my chest. So I try to loosen it from my lungs by doing some mad coughing, but I just end up hurting my throat.

Now it feels like a rake is scratching across my throat, even my ears hurt. It hurts to speak, it hurts to breathe.

I don't want to eat, I don't want to move, I'm stuck in my room 24/7, the meds make me so sleepy. But I'm going insane from not leaving the house since Wednesday.

If things don't turn around tomorrow, my GP is recommending that I go to a hospital.

Man, is this turning out to be a fun September.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 02:45:00 +0000

The Swine Flu That Wasn't....

Here's the deal - I'm running a 38.6 degree Celcius fever, I've been alternating between massive flu and whooping cough, I'm fatigued and my muscles ache.

Unable to take the torment any longer, I finally succumb to visiting the doctor last night.

Even when presented with my symptoms, he calmly proclaimed that Swine Flu season was over and what I had was something else.

Except he never said what that something else was.

And he kept asking me if I was stressed, to the point where I was so stressed by the line of questioning that I had to yell "NO!"

Does anyone else smell a quack?

Well, at least he loaded me up with drugs and gave me 2 days MC.

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 05:33:00 +0000

A Weird Phenomenon...

I find it utterly baffling why some of Fadzli's friends, upon meeting me just ONCE, insist on adding me on Facebook.

And these people are not even super close to Fadz.

Instead, they put me in an awkward position where I'm caught between adding them out of politeness (not like I'm ever gonna speak to them on FB), and not adding them based on my principles of not having unknown characters as my friends.

Of course, I can't be so unspeakably rude and inevitably, I end up clicking on that "Add as friend" button, but cursing myself furiously as I do it.

Even Fadz finds it peculiar.

I don't see any of my friends stalking him in a similar manner. Except maybe my mum. Yeah, my mum and Fadz are "FB buddies". LOL. And periodically, she would ask me worriedly about Fadz's anti-establishment FB status. It's hilarious, as my mum is as strait-laced, government-loving as they come.

Ah yes, I pick them well...

noreply@blogger.com (Joanne) — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 15:10:00 +0000

And Then There Were 4....

The Chan family is back to being a foursome.

Cheryl, Miss Fancy Harvard Grad, has decided to uproot herself once more, to go back to her alma mater, in the hopes of graduating a fancy Harvard LAWYER.

Sadly, I'm unable to follow the parents on this excursion, as I'm a sad, working serf and unlike school where I could play hookey, I have no more leave to take.

Sigh, guess the next time I'd be seeing her would be December at the earliest. Or the next opportunity would be June, when somehow, I get myself a ticket to America.

On some level, I'm envious that my sis would be bold enough to leave her support system here, leave her comfortable, high paying government job, leave her apartment, fancy living, car...

To become a poor student for three years. Saddle herself with a huge debt, and only have the means to start repaying when she graduates at the age of 33.

But I suppose I'm being short-sighted here. Hey, if she becomes a high-paying lawyer, what's US$150,000 in debt right?

I'm not sure if I have the guts to make the same step.

I've kinda settled into a comfortable lifestyle.

And yet, sometimes I wonder if comfortable is enough.

Sigh.