Happy Birthday To Me!

You know, some people hate celebrating birthdays, or think that they aren't anything special. But I love, love, love birthdays! Especially mine, of course.

It's such a happy time... A celebration of my being, of aging gracefully another year, of gaining another year of knowledge and experiences. How can it not be glorious?

And it started off on a great note. I had gone to sleep early cos I only slept 2 hours the previous night, thanks to last minute changes to my project. At 12 midnight, my mum and sis burst into my room, and I thought they had gone nuts. Geraldine starting saying fire! fire! and I was CONVINCED she had lost it (she later claimed I refused to wake up to my mum's gentle prodding so took a more extreme stand). And there he was, my darling baby holding a piece of Oreo Cheesecake that he had made for me cos I had mentioned it before.

So in my dishevelled, bleary, post-lack of sleep bad skin self, I could only grin like an idiot. Awww.... love my brown cow. Bless his current cooking life phase.

So even though there's the incessant drilling outside my house, the still slightly-groggy feeling from weird sleeping patterns, and the need to study for my exam tomorrow, they ain't gonna rain on my parade.

Happy Birthday To Me! xoxo

Let The Celebrations Begin!!!

Well, it's that time of the year again. When the special one (moi) turns 2-2 on the 24th. I luurrrvvveee my birthday week... a week long of (food) debauchery and celebrations. Love it love it love it.

And if anyone wants to show me some love, here's my wishlist... Muahahaha....

Sigh, bad thing is, I have an exam on Friday, so no fun for this poor girl on Thursday. :P

Beijing Finale

Well, we've pretty much reached the halfway point and by then, the old people were getting pretty weary. They would seek out benches and sit down at every available place; the poor guide, she was left with the task of throwing the whole itinerary away or plodding ahead regardless of the old people. Oh well.

These are some photos from day 4 and 5. Day 6 didn't offer many things to take pictures of, so didn't add any photos. Besides, I sprained my ankle on the 6th day, so only bitter memories. -_-'''

We saw the Olympic Countdown Timer, walked around Tiananmen Square. That was exciting, seeing how there are plainclothes detectives who have been trained in foreign languages to listen in on conversations and haul away anyone if they even mentioned anything bad about China, Mao or the other M-word - massacre. Yes, even tourists aren't spared.

Also went to a theme park. Don't know why it was in the itinerary when the average age of the group was 50, and they didn't allow people over the age of 50 to take certain rides. Duh. But I went on this super scary ride (see above). It's like the ultimate Viking ride. The thing hits a perpendicular and it truly felt like I was about to get flung out of my seat. Not only does the ride go from side to side, but the round thing spins 360 degrees continuous. Nausea-inducing. My knees were shaking when I came down. Hiak Hiak.

We had to change hotel on the last day and checked into this spa resort that had a sauna in the room. Yup, there was a freaking sauna in my room. Muahahhaaha. But the hotel service was beyond lousy and it was quite a heinous experience on hindsight. Totally not worth the time and effort.

Erm, things are a bit choppy cos I'm in class right now and the TA is sitting behind me. Oops.

This Takes The Cake...

Oh.My.God. You have to watch this. I nearly died from rolling off my chair in laughter. To be fair, I'm sure they had to interview thousands of people in order to find these few gems. But still. STILL.

Watch at your own peril. And no... I know smart Americans. It's just fun to laugh at them sometimes. :P

Disclaimer: No malicious intent was erm, intended, in showing this clip.

Someone Finally Wants Me!

I'm employed, I'm employed, I'm employed!

Now I can stop feeling sorry for myself and think that I'm useless and worthless as a potential employee. Yes, Ms Chan is rejuvenated.

Well, I was hoping for this 6-month internship at Starwood Hotels and Resorts but they are taking forever to come back with a reply. So in the mean time, I applied to another company, Global Brands. They are a relatively young company, founded in 2003, with 14 global offices. Their main line of work is to promote and manage their brand partners' products and promotions and their partners include FIFA (woohoo!!), PGA, Warner Bros., Bum Equipment and Marvel. When I was at the interview, I overheard one of the employees discussing about the promo posters and signboards to be used for the release of the Harry Potter movie, what would work, what colours are more appropriate. So exciting!

So what am I doing? According to my supervisor, the company has absolutely no electronic Human Resource tracking system, and their employee records are mostly still in paper form. That's where I come in. I have to create a HRIS (human resource information system) to track all their employees globally. Things like personal information, compensation and benefits packages, private information etc. etc. etc.... Basically, I have to communicate with all the employees, get the information (because even then there are missing gaps), organize and devise a workable system so that future employees will be more easily managed.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you are thinking. Sounds like bloody data entry. Hey man, I'm not so proud and arrogant as to think that I'd be doing executive work as a lowly intern. Everyone has to start somewhere and since I don't have any experience in HR, nothing is above or below me. So I just hope I don't screw up. Seeing how this position is for someone meticulous and with an eye for detail....

Yes, I've managed to bluff my way through many data entry jobs. Even for my last Finance project, I came up with the model, but my team mates had to pore over the numbers cos erm, I'm not that careful. Hahahahaha!

Besides, this means I'd get to see what my supervisor is paid and if she gets a little something something, if you know what I mean. Ah, what power.

I start work on the 28th May, I end summer school on the 26th, my birthday is on the 24th. Hmmm, no break for this lady.

Trials and Tribulations of Life on the MRT

Singaporeans are vicious, vicious people. Drivers whine all the time about the bad traffic on the road but until you've been traumatised on the MRT during peak hour, you ain't seen ugly.

Aside from the usual assholes who block the entrance and pretend not to hear you say "Excuse me" until you practically yell in their ear; bastards who read newspapers (the big Straits Times, not Today) despite passengers being pressed chest to chest and hence inevitably whacking everyone around him/her with the stupid paper; jerks who lean on the pole and leave a whole group of passengers to wobble precariously whenever the MRT jerks; the poseurs who choose the "speaker" option on their phones and blast emo music and ignore the death glares directed at their way . I hate these people.

I hate going to school in the morning. Seriously. It is possibly the most horrifying experience EVER. I attempt to take the through train that goes directly to City Hall instead of having to transfer at Jurong East. Sometimes I manage to hop on the earlier train at 7.34am, but usually I'm stuck with the 7.44am one. Bad choice. By the time the train gets to Bukit Gombak, people are semi-pressed against the door. I feel really bad when I take advantage of pockets of space and squeeze in, but when there's really no way, I give up. But yesterday, when I made it into the train, this stupid guy used his stupid back and pushed backwards, creating some space for himself. But seeing how he might be caught by the closing train doors, he squeezed behind me and effectively squashed me between his belly and the train door. I was stuck in that position, my back against his belly, face against door, until I reached Jurong. Dickhead.

I fervently hoped that my trial was over but noooooo, the train gods have to test me. I was standing next to this Indian woman and we were near one of the poles. She was standing 3 seats away but STRETCHED her hand across the space and held on to the pole with a death grip. Was it because she was falling? No. It was to block me from accessing any seats that might suddenly be available. She was basically reserving 3 seats and the probability that someone would get up soon. Bloody bitch. We were near the door so more and more passengers kept pressing into the cabin and squashing me, but she obstinately refused to move despite space in the middle opening up. Arrrgh!!! In frustration, I pushed past her to the empty spot and STILL, her death grip persisted. The only consolation I received was that she left before anyone stood up. HAHAHAHAHA, the gods have spoken, bitch!

And another thing we're all guilty of is profiling. We all do it. In a bid to get a seat, you assess the people seated and attempt to make a guess as to who would get up soon. The ones dressed in suits --> headed for town. The ones dressed not so well --> most likely destined for the industrial parks and suburb offices. And people with laptops? Dover / Singapore Poly. That might explain why people refuse to move once they have zeroed in on a potential target. The belief that a person was going to get up soon.

Me? I'm equally culpable. One time during the peak hour on my way home, I zoomed in on this Indian/Bangla-looking dude. I know it's stereotyping and racism, but I usually associate the Banglas with 2 locations: Jurong West (bad) and Outram (good). Good because that means they are leaving soon and I will get the seat. So when I saw that this Bangla was dressed quite well, I thought perhaps he was going to Little India for a little R&R. So I stood in front of him. When we arrived at Outram, a Chinese dude 2 seats down got off. -_-''' I never said it was a science.

But the ultimate gross act has to be people who think of the MRT as a grooming station and attempt to groom themselves in PUBLIC. The nail clippers, nose diggers, hair pluckers. Argh, argh, argh. And how do they pluck hair? Easy. Take 2 10-cent coins, use said coins like tweezers and by positioning hair follicle between coins, tug until hair comes free. Of course, remember to fling body waste around the cabin because the other passengers DON'T MIND.

Fuck. I truly hate these Singaporeans/foreigners. See, I'm not racist. I just hate motherfuckers who don't have respect for public property, regardless of race, language or religion.

Check out my Slide Show!

Beijing - Part 2

Ok, I'm a bigger procrastinator than I thought possible. Day 3 of 9.

We visited the Ming Tombs and climbed the Great Wall on the 3rd day of our trip. The Ming Tombs are similar to the Egyptian Valley of the Dead, with the remains of 13 Ming emperors that ruled China from 1409 to 1644 buried there. The Ming Tombs were ravaged by the Red Army during the Cultural Revolution to show that the royalty was overly decadent even in death. Hence, all that remains of the once magnificant crypt are replicas. Such a great pity; so many national treasures lost. Also, part of the treasures were pillaged by the marauding French Army. Which brings about the biggest tragedy of all: a lot of China's art and historical artifacts can be found in Western museums, and the China tourists have to go out of China to view such artifacts.

The other amazing thing about the Ming Tombs is its architecture. With the high arching walls, voices are carried all around and there's a coolness that permeates the place. One of the highlights is this amazing door that used to guard the entrance to the Emperor's tomb. It is incredibly heavy and almost impossible to move; apparently, one tomb was blast open unceremoniously because the soldiers couldn't move the door. But there's this catch in the door that when fitted with a key, swings the doors open with amazing ease. More Chinese ingenuity.

But definitely, the day was meant for the unforgettable Great Wall. Seriously, seeing the pictures and being there are 2 complete events. The structure stretches for miles and miles, and covers the mountain. We only climbed one portion, but I was out of breathe by the time I reached the top. However, I took 25 minutes to scale that portion of the Great Wall and hence, am immensely proud.

But the thing is, I was nearly humiliated by this old dude in my tour group, Mr Ng. Now, Mr Ng is 70+ and definitely no spring chicken. No doubt, he got a headstart and was like 2 flights of steps ahead of me, but he was relentless and kept pushing forward. Tirelessly. And there I was, huffing and puffing away, and he was like taking a bloody stroll through the park. So to avoid being outclimbed by an old man 3 times my age, I summoned my energies and overtook him in the end. I know, I know, beating an old man ain't no glorious thing...

But I took a picture at the top of the Wall to celebrate being the 1st 2 people up the Wall.

You know what? When I reached the final 10 steps, I felt like Rocky running up the Capital Building. I nearly burst into the Rocky theme song. I was THAT proud.

Beijing - Part 1

It has dawned on me that I posted photos only from the 1st city (out of 6) that I visited in Vietnam way back last year. Hmmm, guess I grew bored from the sorting, arranging and uploading of photos. Hope this Beijing trip doesn't end up with the same fate. Anyhoo, it was only a 6-day trip and fingers crossed that I'd make it to the end and not lose interest before that.

Going on organized tours has never been my thing cos you're restricted by your fellow tour members, and I've never felt that way as acutely as this trip. When the average age of all participants is 50 (and that's after taking into account an 18-month old toddler), I had the sinking feeling that there was going to be a lot of resting, waiting and general lack of a spring in the step.

Not to be catty, but I was so right, and then some. Didn't realize senior folks had to go to the toilet so many times a day. Shall never take my ability to hold my pee for 14 hours on a train in Vietnam for granted ever again. The horror of a gross toilet can sometimes overcome any urge to relieve oneself.

But having said that, the trip was fun enough, the older folks friendly and jovial; pity the way we were rushed from historical site to historical site. I felt like before I could soak up the culture, I was being herded off to the next destination. The cattle associations are intentional because that was exactly how I felt amongst the thousands of people we encountered at each place. Simply madness.

The flight on Air China was uneventful; the piping of Chinese music into the cabin at the start and end of the flight, coupled with less than appealing stewardesses made me sleep all the way. However, the food, I must say, was better than I thought it would be.

Pardon the shakiness. Was experiencing a long bout of turbulence. And yes, the flight was cold, as evidenced by the poor ang moh guy in the background.

We finally arrive in Beijing after 6 hours, and had to endure a very abrupt landing because the runway is damn short!!! Here, I must caution all visitors to China. In order to prevent hundreds of people from cursing at you, please be aware that there's this arrival form that you must fill up before you can clear immigration. The forms are available at a counter before you reach the immigration checkpoint. Please do not be one of those stupid, inconsiderate assholes who arrive as a group, do not have the arrival card, and hold up the queue for 30 minutes because they are stupid and stand at the counter filling up their stupid forms, instead of moving aside and letting other people pass through. So there. Be forewarned. And I'm sure those people got a massive earache from all the cussing I did.


A long bus ride ensued and I got my first glimpse of Beijing. If you can't see the picture clearly (I was taking through the glass ok), the facade is all crumpled on purpose, like it has been hit by a train. Maybe the Chinese think it's artistic....

The atmosphere in the city is electrifying, to say the least. It seems like the entire city has rallied together to get the place spruced up and ready for the Olympics. You can see it everywhere; massive construction, souvenirs and memorabilia being hawked at every corner, even our China tour guide had an Olympic pin on her jacket the whole way through. Apparently, the government has passed an order declaring that all work not related to the Olympics has to be postponed and the workers have been redirected to Olympic projects.

Our tour guide, Long Jie, was very nice and chatty. Throughout the whole trip, she kept feeding us with ancient China history and for the most part, I found it fascinating. However, most of the group fell asleep promptly whenever she launched into another history lesson. Poor thing man. They only perked up when she talked about current day Beijing and it's practices. Also, things that we had to look out for. Like the beggars and touts that surrounded the tour bus whenever we disembarked, thrusting hands and merchandise in your face. And we had to be especially wary of anyone who got too close as they were all potential pickpockets. Yes, murder may have gone down in the city, but pickpocketing and robbings are still plentiful. And giving you fake money. Yup, very commonplace, especially for the bigger notes like the 50s and 100s. People get cheated all the time.

Our first stop was Wangfujing, this shopping district much like our Orchard road. You see shopping centres that range from Paragon to Lucky Plaza, side by side. And since they are government-run, the service is.... minimal. A common mantra in this city is "Start work on time, end earlier than stated". Simply because there is no incentive to work harder. You work less, you work more, you still get paid the same.


I thought those 2 guards in the 2nd photo were from the People's Liberation Army, akin to our Armed Forces. Turns out they're merely security guards; the equivalent of our Cisco guards. -_-''' And I was so excited at having taken a picture with them. was wondering why they were so friendly, though.

Fake flowers are also very, very common in China. Those next to my mum are fake, fake, fake. I suppose since China is so big, and flowers really do make a drab place look better, fake flowers make more economic sense, and they last forever too.

Wanfujing is also famous for its street food, which is simply heavenly. We only got to walk around for 1.5 hours which was a real shame because we didn't get to do much. I didn't get to sample much either because I had just finished a 10-course dinner. But if you do get a chance, skip the restaurants and head straight for the street food.

Day 2
The day started off brightly enough, but we were soon caught in a brisk afternoon shower. The weather was pretty cold when I went there, so the rain didn't exactly help. Despite the cold weather, the sun shone unbearably bright, which explains why I'm almost wincing in a lot of the photos.


And it's off to the Beijing Sports University first. Here's where they train all their future Olympic hopefuls. The training is of course gruelling but it's such a thrill to watch them perform. We caught a glimpse of the gold medal-winning female gymnastic team and even though they had not perfected their routine, they were still breath-taking to watch. Oh, and we got a tour guide for the school. She's a track and field hopeful, so I told her I wanted to take her picture just in case she got famous.

And yes, Chairman Mao is everywhere; busts, pictures, statues... the whole nation is still incredibly enamoured by him and it's evident in the differential way in which our tour guide mentions his name. Often in the same sentence with other greats like Qin Shi Huang (If you dunno who that is, tsk tsk; he's one of the great Chinese Emperors).


Next stop, Summer Palace. I really loved hearing the history behind Summer Palace. The Summer Palace wasn't anything great when Cixi's husband was in power. But she persuaded her son, Guangxu, to tell his father to use the money originally set aside for buying modern guns and equipment to fend off Western forces and use it instead, on upgrading the Summer Palace so that Cixi would have a nice place to live in. What a fillial son, eh? So Guangxu did as he was told and when the British came attacking, the Chinese military found boxes of sand instead of ammunition. So yeah, Cixi basically destroyed the Chinese empire and let Western forces in. All for a beautiful palace.

But the summer palace is lovely indeed, and is bordered by this long corridor that is adorned with thousands of paintings. The corridor runs along the Kunming Lake, and hence the royalty was ensured a jaunt along the lake even when it rained. How thoughtful.

Our last stop for the day was the Forbidden City. The grandeur of the palace was awe-inspiring. To think that the entire place was built without a single nail. Amazing.


Many of the buildings were undergoing refurbishing in order to be ready for the Olympics, hence we didn't even get to enter the main palace. But as we strolled through the palace, the guide was telling us about the history and practices that took place in the palace, which made the tour all that more interesting. The long corridors that signified how special the emperor was; even old court officials had to walk great distances, climb many stairs, simply to speak to the emperor. The fact that the emperor changed where he slept every night in order to confuse assassins; how the chamber maids would be locked up with the emperor so that no one could tell the whereabouts of the emperor. Was the royalty decadent? Perhaps. Thousands of people could be starving and the royal family was cocooned in the deepest boughs of luxury. But for someone who was purported to be the descendent of the Heavenly King, I suppose it could seem justifiable. Do you know that the Forbidden City has 999.5 rooms, 0.5 rooms less than the palace of the Heavenly King? This was to show deference to the Heavenly King and acknowledgement that he was still ultimately numero uno.

We ate a lot on the trip; it was only after the 2nd day that my mum told me we were on a gourmet tour, and here I was thinking that I was in China to soak up the history and culture.

Silly me.

No Man's Land

I'm stuck in limbo. Or rather, I've been royally screwed by my results this semester. Officially the worst semester EVER. And that's taking into account my C from last term... damn. B, B, B+, B+. I'm BORDERLINE. I'm BLOODY screwed. I'm a BO DOH.

So why am I in the middle? My dreams of a magna cum laude have flown away. I'm now at a cum laude. In order to maintain a cum laude, I need 5 Bs and 1 B-. Not too difficult. In order to get a magna, I need 3 A+s and 3 As. Impossible. Absolutely fucking impossible. I might have a better chance if I slept with all my professors, but what happens if I get a female prof???

Anyway, if I give up and accept fate, I can pretty much relax a little. But I feel so dissatisfied. On a logical level, I know there's no way I can achieve such results. Can you imagine how gutted I'd be if I got like 5As (Which is already over-the-moon results)? How can I subject myself to such torture and self-loathing?

So how? What to do? Que sara sara? C'est la vie? Stick it to the man?

I hope the graduation gown doesn't make me look fat. (I know, how random).

Bad Karma Sucks

Went for an internship interview this morning. I applied for this 6 months internship and if I get it, it would mean pushing back one semester and I'd effectively graduated on my original date, i.e. July 2008. However, looking at the signs, I doubt I'd get the job.

Signs of Bad Karma Indeed:
1. I arrive 2 minutes late for my interview when proper ettiquette dictates that I should be at least 5 minutes early.

2. The building (Suntec Tower 4) was damn freaking far from the MRT, which partially explains why I was late, hence causing me to semi-sprint to the building, and arriving kinda crumpled from the heat.

3. I was still sweating throughout the hour-long interview.

4. Worst of all, because I had previously applied to Visa International and proceeded to use pretty much the same template for this internship application (Starwood Hotels and Resorts), and having brazenly declared that I am METICULOUS, my interviewer pointed out that I had referred to Starwood as Visa in my application. -_-''' "It's interesting that you mention you are meticulous because do you know which company you addressed your cover letter to?"

5. And to cap it all off, as I was leaving, I met Regina, this year 4 student who is a) graduating NOW and hence able to take on a full-time position after the internship and b) highly capable and too smart. A quick call to my girls confirmed my worst fears: she's too good.

I'm fucking screwed.

I'm back peeps. And starting summer school in exactly 8 hours and 30 minutes. Someone wake me up from this nightmare.

Beijing was fun, for an organized tour anyway. Plenty of old folks.

Oh, and I sprained my ankle on the last day. So graceful, right?

Update soon. Photo blog to come (I'll try my best).

P.S.: Beijing is a bloodsucker. Ensure pockets are full of green before embarking there.

Cheerios XOXO :)

And I'm Off...

Well, my exams ended (badly, may I add) officially yesterday and I'm off to Beijing! Typing this at the airport while waiting to board the plane... China Airlines - expectations, nothing really. I saw one of their air stewardesses and already, the bar has been lowered significantly.

Ok, I'm currently running on a lack of sleep (3 hours! Football is taking over my life! I love Manchester United! Haha, too bad Watford!!!) and too much coffee. Great.

By the way, Changi Airport has a big problem: stupid, inconsistent immigration officers. Do you know that Changi Airport is trying to implement an automated system? So there I was, lining up like a law-abiding citizen waiting for my passport to be checked. I'm second in the line. Suddenly, this stupid immigration officer asks me to use the automated system. He asked my family specifically. But a bunch of aunties (and I do mean old aunties) got flustered/kiasu and decided to move to the automated queue. Like a huge bunch of old people. Cue lots of problems and taking 3 times more than it would have taken if I had just stayed in the original queue. Stupid, stupid immigration officer. My dad was rightfully outraged. Assholes. Sheesh. What a way to start a vacation.

Ok, it's getting weird typing this cos people are peeking over my shoulder. And I need to board. Toodles! Be back on the 20th!

Miss me. (:

"Me" versus "We"

The dangerous thing about being in a long-term relationship is that "me" starts to blur and "we" seems to take on a stronger persona. Other people start seeing you as part of a unit, and your individuality takes a backseat. I find that fucking annoying. It's like hellloooooo, I'm still me. How about focusing on me for a while, and not just fucking assume it's always we? Don't get me wrong, I love being in a relationship and all, but when fucking ignorant people attempt to address 2 separate people as 1, that just sets me off.

I hate it when people start defining me by using Fadz. Who the hell starts a conversation with "Eh, where's Fadz?" or "Isn't this football night? Where's your better half?" Erm excuse me, who died and made you the expert on what is proper football watching ettiquette? And whatever happened to a simple "You're watching football?"

Of course that pissed me off. And when I tried to reverse the tactic and use the same line of questioning, some people are simply so oblivious, or in this case, lacking in a strong personality, to realize a taunt. Maybe I'm being overly sensitive. But the point is, I refuse to be defined by my relationship. I'm ME. I just happen to be in a relationship, My life is still mine, and you can begin a conversation by asking after ME, thank you very much. It's nice that you enquire about my boyfriend, but when you start a conversation by directly enquiring after him, what does that make me? Chopped liver?

I suppose some people have utterly no character, no personality, no sense of being, other than that as defined by one's surroundings, group associations or friends/family.

Well screw you, you pathetic excuse for a human being. This is ME, Joanne, Goddess of unstable emotions. You acknowledge me, and then perhaps I might acknowledge your existence. Attempt to define me by other people, and you become insignificant to me. Because you obviously don't understand. And you're not worth my time. So bugger off.

You've been warned.

Ramblings

Have moved into Cheryl's digs for the exam period. My block is currently getting a facelift (lift ungrading) and the noise is absolutely intolerable. Coupled with some new neighbours moving in and all that insufferable knocking at random hours of the day... Let's just say I'm not even a mugger normally. But all that noise just seems to make it too easy for me to throw the towel in. Besides, I was getting incredibly cranky. I was starting to glare at anyone who even resembled a constructoin worker. I know, I know, it's not their fault. But hey, I need to channel my angst towards someone, yeah?

I don't think I'm made out for the loner lifestyle. Cheryl is gone for most of the day so I spend my time pottering around an empty house. Locking myself in my room at home is still a vast difference from being all alone in a house from 8am to 9pm (yeah, that's how long civil servants work, so maybe people should layoff them for earning so much). At least I know that if I need some human contact, I can simply walk out of my room and talk to me mum. But over here.. I know no one. I can interact with no one. And I'm BORED STIFF. Where's my cable tv????

Sigh, I'm so looking forward to Beijing. The guide told us to expect sandstorms at least 2 out of 6 days. Goodie. I want a facial but that'd probably take my skin off. Or blow me off the Great Wall. What a spectacular way to end my life.

Hmm, definitely cranky. When I take such great pleasure plotting my own demise, something has GOT to be wrong.

Beijing, Oh Beijing!

I'm off to Beijing on the 15th of next month! No, not for an internship or something studious, but just a holiday jaunt to my ancestral land to celebrate me Dad's birthday.

Great Wall of China, are you ready for moi? *excited*

I just hope the pollution doesn't make this trip memorable for the wrong reasons.

I Heart Morton's

Double cut fillet mignon, $79.

Tattinger Sparkling Wine, $160.

Tuxedo-ed maitre d speaking Singlish, priceless.

I luurrrvveee Morton's Steakhouse. It serves handsdown the BEST steak in Singapore. Seriously. I think I ate a piece (or many pieces) of heaven last night. Plus, the service was impeccable, save for that one shock of hearing the maitre d speak Singlish to my Dad. It was so shockingly out of place that I had to stifle a giggle because our server of the evening was a Malay girl who spoke flawless English with a slight British accent, and yet the maitre d was a backslapping, laugh-out-loud Singlish speaking Chinese dude who seemed more at home in a Chinese restuarant.

My family had dinner at Morton's last night to celebrate Cheryl's promotion. She was treating, hence I had no qualms about eating well. Hey, how often do you get to indulge in decadent steak?

Cheryl and I wisely decided to share a double cut fillet mignon because the portions are insanely big. When the steak first arrived, I sniggered slightly at the seemingly small steak. After halving it, it looked even more pathetic. Well, looks are deceiving. While it may be small in size, it's thickness more than overwhelmed me.

But my first bit into the steak has made me a lifelong devotee of Morton's steak. Morton's is famous for its aged beef, hence its steak is incredibly tender and moist. Never have I tasted steak that is so incredibly tender that it seemingly dissolves after a few light chews, and yet retain enough texture so that you don't feel like you're eating air. Lightly charred on the outside, but beautifully pink and juicy on the inside. A light sauce accompanies the steak, but seriously, the steak in all its wonderfully beefy juices was more than adequate flavouring.

Geraldine devoured a prime rib steak by herself, Dad ate a steak and king crab legs combo till he became slightly sick from all the food, and Mum delicately polished off a fantastic pan-seared peppercorn tuna steak. That too, was amazing, and my one single bite afforded me a peppery, substantial tuna that was still beautifully raw in the middle.

The steaks are served without any side dishes, so we ordered a couple. Even the side dishes are deserving of worship. The sauteed mushrooms and onions (I know, I know, onions) exploded with amazing flavours. The potato skins were tasty, but disappointingly pedestrian.

And the desserts. Oh god, the desserts. We were all really stuffed, but hey, what's a meal without desserts right? And people, we always have stomach for desserts.

Morton's Legendary Hot Chocolate Cake deserves all the accolades. Lovingly warm in the centre with gooey chocolate oozing out, the crust is crunchy and not overpoweringly sweet. We also ate the creme brulee that felt like a gazillion calories with every bite, but oh so worth it. A crispy, torchblown sugar crust hid a deliciously light whipped cream bottom.

Sparkling wine throughout the meal complemented a great meal. Oh god, I love Morton's so much. And more importantly, I love my crazy family. A lot of people may think that we are very rich and extravagant, but it's not true. We stay in a HDB flat, my family doesn't own a car, Cheryl has one but it's so embarrassingly banged up that it's heading for the scrapyard (boy, was that embarrassingly when we passed the car to Oriental's valet), and I wear clothes from Far East Plaza and Bugis.

But we love our food, man do we love our food. We have no qualms about spending big on food; it's our one biggest vice and pleasure. Food is the source of life. We truly, truly appreciate gastronomic delights and experience. So Amen for that attitude and I can only imagine better things to come.

A Rose By Any Other Name...

I'm fucking annoyed. Some people are really, really stupid turds of shit. Seriously, how difficult is it to get my name correct?

It's like a global virus hitting the stupid button. Brains are freezing. The ability to discern between similar names has evaporated. A lot of the people left standing just call people by whatever name they deem fit. Fuckfaces.

It started with York during Leadership and Team Building. He kept calling me Joanna. Presentations, group meetings, emails; even on the cover pages of our projects. He would introduce me as Joanna to the class, directed work to me as Joanna. I was beyond mad.

I love my name and I refuse to allow it to be bastardize. So I took action. I specifically emailed all our group members and signed off as JoannE. I explicitly told him to please take care because my name was spelt as JoannE with an "E". You know what he did?

He replied, "I'm sorry, JoannaE."

I nearly fell off my chair. It was only after 6 weeks of constant bombarding, a feedback session during which I told him it was rude that he mis-said, misspelled my name because I felt it showed a lack of concern to properly learn my name, before he finally got it right. Sheesh.

Over the years, I encounter people who are so accustomed to Joanna that they slip up occasionally. But usually, they get it right once I politely correct them.

But never have I met such a fierce adversary. She's relentless, aggressive and stubborn. She's also my prof. Not only does she call my by the wrong name, but also by the wrong SURNAME. I don't even know how she comes up with it.

It started harmless enough. She called me Joanna, I said Joanne. She persisted, I countered nicely. But then she started calling me Joanna Lee. And I'm totally like, What the Fuck? Not only do you disrespect me, you disrespect my surname!

But she's my prof. I can't tell her she's a blatant retard, right? I was so exasperated once that I just yelled out "Joanne Chan!!!!". But no, she's old. She's a spinster. She's my prof. How much more can I protest?

Someone please tell me what I can do. I'm despairing. And if any of you call me Joanna, I'd have to kill you. :)

And to all those people with similar sounding names, I completely sympathize with you.

Abused Names...

~ Joanne/Joanna ~

~ Martine/Martina ~

~ Christine/Christina ~

~ Florentine/Florentina ~

~ Coral/Coralla ~

Ok, this is spiralling out of control. Will take it as my personal mission to exterminate stupid people. So I say, vote for me. Bring me to power. And then I'll go about reducing the number of idiots walking this earth.

It's The Small Things In Life...

...that brings tears to my eyes. Sometimes, we get so caught up with grand ideas that the little things in life get forgotten.

And these are the small things that make me happy to be alive...

1. Making it to the toilet just in time after holding your pee in for the last hour because your professor/annoying class mate simply won't shut up.

2. Biting into a warm bun after having missed breakfast because you woke up too late.

3. Knowing that the weekend is just around the corner.

4. Letting rip a burp after a great buffet.

5. Receiving a flower even though the giver thinks it's a waste of money.

6. Offering to hold my laptop as an act of chivalry.

7. Walking into sunshine after being cooped up in an air-conditioned, sub-zero temperature room.

8. Getting a compliment on my outfit.

9. Taking off my killer shoes after a long day and relieving the pressure of the blisters on my toes.

10. Getting to the end of an annoyingly boring class.

Yup, like I said, the small things in life. And also, I'm easily contented. Haha!

You Mean It Was Chinese New Year?

This has got to be one of the toughest Chinese New Year's I've ever experienced... Ok, the 1st 3 days were fun because all I did was eat, gather ang paos and play mahjong. Played lots and lots of mahjong and I just kept winning. Even when I didn't want to win, even when my mum and sister threw the winning card one after another and I refused to win because I felt bad, I ended up zi-mou-ing the card myself. :)

But the days after that were simply hell. I was in school from Wednesday to Friday doing the stupid case competition, getting riled up and let my emotions run high, annoyed myself to the high heavens... sigh. In the end, we didn't get chosen. Mixed feelings about that because on one high, I was ecstatic that I didn't have to see those 3 people anymore. But to think that I wasted all that time for naught, and caused me to do shoddy work for my school work. Merde...

I had a term paper due on Monday and could only start doing it on Sunday because I still had Waikiki (an annual school beach event) to attend and help out with. I was burnt to a crisp as usual. Ah, the curse of being fair... :(

But when I handed in the term paper, apparently we were supposed to choose a research paper (i.e. hypothesis, research, with numbers basically) and I chose a research article (qualitative information). I think my face fell so rapidly that my prof tried to comfort me and said what was done was done. Haiz...

So yup, my Chinese New Year was fleet and painfully short. At least I won money.

Sadomasochist

The above title would apply to me. Why, why, why do I persist in making my life miserable? Why do I seem to enjoy engaging in activities that are bound to end in suffering and pain? Why, why, why, indeed.

No, I'm not talking about whips and physical torture, but more of a gigantic headache and miserable emotions when I subject myself to working with people of a certain nationality. No names of course, or else later the government hurls me to court and charges me for racism. That, or for scaring foreign "talent" away.

Let me now explain my situation/predication a little...

There's this Citibank case competition that I thought would be good exposure to join. Crotch (you remember him.. from my OCBC days) asked if I was interested in forming a team with him and in a moment of folly, I agreed. Even though my OCBC working experience wasn't a joyful thing to remember. It's a woman thing... recall how women forget how painful childbearing is, therefore allowing multiple pregnancies? It's the same logic. We know it's painful, but having forgetten HOW painful, we allow the same situation to persist.

Anyway, the team Crotch formed eventually consisted of 3 people from the same nationality and ME. No price for guessing what happens next.

I simply don't get it. How do they manage to live with themselves and their inflated egos? It's like having to deal with 2 people within the same body. In fact, I'm quite certain a person of that nationality would be able to have a lengthy discussion all by himself/herself simply because he/she loves the sound of his/her voice. It's simply amazing. It's like, Hi, I'm Sam. This is my inflated ego, Am. Now shut up bitch and listen to what we have to say. Any lapse in conversation is meant as a breath-intake and NOT for your contribution.

I hate it how they ramble on and on. I hate it how they can spend 8 hours talking BULLSHIT and then declaring the meeting a success. I hate how they can go round in circles, never quite hitting the point, then suddenly declare a division of work, throw you something, and expect it within the next hour. When you dare to give a "huh" face, they make this annoyed sound and proceed to speak SLOWLY (but still in CIRCLES) about what they sort of, perhaps, maybe think the situation is about and what it calls for.

Fuckers. Truly, motherfuckers. There's this one team mate, let's call him FuckFace. He's the kind who thinks he's so damn great, thinks he knows the whole damn world, thinks he's so damn good. Excuse me, if you are so damn good, why didn't you get picked for the Cognitare (this prestigeous elite club in SMU) team? Yes, you speak well, as you rightly pointed out. But the way you frame and present yourself is an INSTANT turnoff. I feel like spitting into your face.I feel like raining punches down on you. You're condescending, arrogant, self-absorbed and an all-around asshole. Maybe the reason you didn't get picked was because you aren't personable and people immediately feel like puking when hearing you speak.

A good speaker is not just one who can speak well, but also one who can connect with the audience. And you, in this aspect, have failed miserably.

Why, why, why, did I think this team was going to work?

Like I said, I'm a masochist.