CNY is bad for the waistline

Oh My Lordie, Lord, Lord! I think I've consumed more calories in the past 3 days than a small nation. It's disgusting how much I can eat when presented with really, really good food.

Let's see.... It was Jumbo seafood on CNY's eve, Sweet Salty Spicy on CNY day 1, Royal China on CNY day 2.

In between, we played mahjong at my mum's behest, which meant non-stop snacking.

And at night, there was Mac's and Canadian Pizza.

How like that????????

Oh, and I must say, nothing is sacred in my house. For some reason, Cheryl and I got into a word slamming contest, using each other's Zodiac sign.

It all started after lunch on the CNY second day, and for some reason, Cheryl called me a "crazy cow". (technically, I'm an Ox, but more on that later).

So that really fired me up, and in retaliation, a whole string of stuff came out from my mouth...

"Stupid sheep!" (technically, she's a goat, but oh well).

"Silly sheep!"

"Slanderous sheep!"

"Sala sheep!" , "Siao sheep!" (yes, at this point, we gave up on the English language)

Then remembering that she's actually a goat...

"Grotesque Goat!" , "Goateed goat!" (I especially liked this one)

She, whose vocabulary is strangely limited, starting yelling...

"Crazy cow!" , "corny cow!" , "crappy cow!" , "cucu cow!" (her Hokkien is so bad.. it should be kuku lah!)

So this continued until the night, and when we were having dinner, Cheryl lamented that "C" was such a tough letter to be rude about.

That's when Fadz chimed in...

"Callous cow!" , "Crude Cow!!!" (my own boyfriend leh)

And reminding all that I'm actually an Ox...

"Obscene Ox!!" (at this point, Cheryl fell off her chair in hysterical laughter)

Then my mum walks in, and being a horse, we had a go at her too.

Cheryl: hairy horse

Me: humongous horse

Fadz: hamsup horse

Geraldine: HORNY HORSE

My mum, as you can guess, did not laugh.

Beware of Danga Bay - You Might Die of Boredom!!!

I really shouldn't be so eager to try out new things. Sometimes, things end badly.

With the new train that takes one from Tanjong Pagar train station in Singapore to Danga City Mall in Johor, the supposedly new and exciting destination, I decided to make a day trip up.

Seeing how I've never taken the SIN-JB train, and wanting to see the new mall myself, I figured it'd be pretty fun.

Well, I figured wrong. Touting itself as the "Vision of the South", yeah, Danga Bay is for the blind and boring! There's freaking nothing to do!!!

In fact, I had more fun taking pictures at the Tanjong Pagar train station than I did at the so called Bay!!! What bay! It's just dead marshes and deserted buildings!!

The station is quite cool in its stuck-in-the-last-century kinda way. No air-con, rusty gates, faded murals... but an experience by itself.

If you thought there was no place in Singapore where time stood still, well, this is the place to be. But then again, the train station and the land it sits on officially belongs to Malaysia. So maybe that explains why things haven't changed since 1932!

Arriving at Danga City Mall, Fadz's face became black so quickly I was alarmed. There's 7 floors of.... nothing. Zilch. Less than 50% of the shops are opened. One person described it as having Far East Plaza type of shops. I feel so offended. This is NOTHING like Far East. Think more like Lucky Plaza or People's Park. Eww. Argh. Sucks.

The only thing worth making the trip for? Cheap archery at the top level. 36 arrows for 13 ringgit. I didn't know archery was so tiring and difficult. Didn't hit a single bullseye, but Fadz did.

I started out stronger, but Fadz's competitive nature soon kicked in, while my enthusiasm kinda waned cos the bloody bow is so bloody heavy. In the end, I hit the styrofoam/completely missed the entire target by 4 bows. Sigh.

In less than an hour, we were ready to get the hell out of Danga City Mall and head to Danga Bay. It's supposed to be more entertaining.

My ASS.

The much touted 280-shop single floor Festive Mall is more like a glorified air-conditioned pasam malam.

You know what we ended up doing? Playing arcade. Cos it's so bloody cheap. 1 Ringgit for Time Crisis 3, anyone?

But I managed to convince Fadz to try out a fish spa.... I didn't know it'd be so damn ticklish!

At 15 ringgit for 15 minutes, it's like half priced compared to Singapore. And with only the 2 of us as customers, we had the whole fish pool to ourselves.

The fishes were half interested in my feet, especially the sole. Which was incredibly ticklish and I kept giggling like a stupid kid, much to the amusement of the bored attendants.

But when Fadz put his feet in....

Damn! It was like a swarm of locusts descending on crops! And they never let up! Fadz feet must be like dead.

Tada! We emerged with smoother legs.

Ended the day with a seafood dinner, which is pretty much why we entered into JB in the first place. And you know where we ended up? At the same place we ate like 3-4 years ago, when we first entered JB together. Except previously, the place overlooked the Bay, with few developments.

Fast forward to present day, and our view is now blocked by the stupid Festive Mall and other stupid developments that are mostly empty cos no one in their right mind would think of investing in this hellhole.

But yes, we ate at Senggah Selalu.

A uber chillout place with Ikea-like lighting and giant fans to cool one down.

Cereal oat prawns...

Baby octopus...

Belachan kang kong....

And chilli crab!

If it wasn't for half price Secret Recipe, half price arcade, and half price seafood, and a relatively good-natured Fadz, I would have killed myself.

Bored @ Work

Am twiddling my thumbs at work now. Can't decide whether it's a good or bad thing.

What's happening, you ask? Well, it's parliament day, which is the glorious day where reporters everywhere are busily scribbling whatever is said in parliament, summarize the key points, and publish.

For radio, we have the added joy of making sure the news is pushed out ASAP, rather than have the whole day (like print) to mull over sentences and construct poetry out of nothing.

Buttttt...... everything being discussed today is business-related.

Which brings me back to my first sentence. I'm twiddling my thumbs.

A Passion for Everything

Quite a good day at work. I think there's nothing like the adrenaline rush of making a life report, and having to deal with the elements.

So there I was again, five minutes before going live on radio, where every mistake is magnified a thousand times.

My scripts half done, and Ican't find a quiet place to file my report. So I go to the life lobby, and await my queue.

Then the lifts start going crazy, merrily "dinging" away as the life doors open and people enter and exit.

I get so distracted, I call my presenter by the wrong name (whoopsie!!!).

So there I was, balancing my notepad on my thigh as the script is written over three pages. Desperate to turn my notebook, I squat down next to the plant to make the flip.

And my interviewee walks past me, with this mildly bemused expression on his face, like, why the hell is the reporter squatting like a lian next to a plant????

Anyhoo, it's moments like these that make my day exciting. Nothing's ever the same. No matter how many times I've gone live, each time still feels like the first time, the tense butterflies in the stomach, the heightened awareness of my surroundings.

Haha, I may bitch about my work a lot, but I guess deep down, I do enjoy it to a certain extent. Except for really stupid events.

And I suppose that kinda enjoyment applies to everything in life. In relationships, and in the will to live.

When one stops enjoying life, work, love, people, what's the point of continuing?

The Twilight Insanity

So it's my first day of enforced leave... just chilling at home. It's not too bad. At least I'm not spending money. HAHA

Anyhoo, caught up on my Gossip Girl (love love love!) and Grey's Anatomy (is it me or is the show going downhill?)

With more time to kill, I decided to watch Twilight once and for all to see what the hype is all about.

My verdict? Dang, but the acting is bad! Like, 90210 the remake bad! Like over the top, I don't know how to look scared so I just open my mouth like a gaping gold fish, BAD.

But I would get why girls, and women wanting romance, can get so caught up into the show. Certain parts, I was like, just get it on already!!!

Hmm, and Rob Pattinson? He's not THAT hot what. Acting, sub-par, too pale, too skinny. God, give me Brad Pitt any day, wrinkles, eye bags and all!!

I mean, I guess I do sometimes like the pretty boy type, and Rob has certain good angles, but come on, I just want to run a comb through his hair!!!

Now Chace is great looking, a pretty boy, and has great hair! So for all the young ladies who are fantasizing that they will meet their prince charming and hence would like someone closer their age to make the fantasy work, at least pick a right target.

But please... who can beat...

My darling David...

OR...

Brad?

Oh god, give me a MAN any day....

Oh What A Gloomy Day

Can I just say how much my day sucked yesterday?

On a scale of 1 to 10, it definitely received at least an 8.

So there I was, going about my day, doing my job, attending press conferences and what not.

And since what I was doing was quite significant, the normal SOP is to file a live report over the phone.

And when I mean live, I do mean live, as in I'm standing by on my handphone, waiting for the DJ to cue me in and me rattling off my news piece.

So anyway, this DJ evidently doesn't know how to work all the buttons. So 5 minutes before airtime, she calls, puts me on hold, and there I am, standing with my handphone stuck to my ear, waiting for my cue.

My cue comes, I take a deep breath, and start talking. Two seconds later, I hear the DJ going on air, moving on to the next story.

You know why? You know why? Cos she didn't know which button to press to unhold me and patch me through.

RAGE!

So I had to call back and was put on air after the break. But the venue I was at was in the process of being cleaned up. And even though I asked for the vacuum cleaner to be switched off while I filed my report, they just carried on cos they couldn't wait anymore.

And they started moving furniture!

So if you were tuning in to my live report at that moment, you could hear the vacuum cleaner, a chair being plonked down next to me, and lots of people talking in the background. All of which wouldn't have happened if the DJ had just patched me in properly the first time.

Dead air for 5 seconds is a criminal offence in my world! OH MY GOD!

So I stomped back to my office, and my editor requested that I do my report again in the studio, because it was simply too noisy. So I stepped in, see the DJ, and she's like "blah blah blah, I'm so sorry for blah blah blah. Do you forgive me?"

Bleah. I stomped to my boss' office to complain and immediately she called the DJ's supervisor. I hate to be a bitch but come on, you put me on hold for so long, evidently I was on hold, I could hear you, and you didn't know how to patch me through? You've been doing the same job for the past 1 year!!!!

And after that, I had to cut the soundbites and put together a story properly. 10 minutes before airtime, my sound files and system go berserk on me. I can't save any edits, my soundfile is a flat line waveform. MASSIVE PANIC ATTACK.

And it was just my computer! When I reloaded it on another computer, it worked fine!!!

Adding to my woes, I'm sure some of you must have read by now, my company is implementing shorter work weeks and enforcing 2 days of unpaid leave a month.

Translation: My annual pay package is essentially cut by a full month. How to live like that? I don't know how to live within my means. I don't what it means to shop less, or eat at less expensive places, or socialise less.

And you don't need to remind me about the hardships that other people are facing. Yeah yeah, I got no mortgage, no family to support, blah blah blah. If you're one of those people, I'm genuinely sorry for your difficulties.

But that doesn't mean I appreciate having to make changes to my lifestyle. What a killjoy. What's there to look forward to in life anymore?

Anyway, the evening capped off with my colleagues going on and on about her ex-lover. Cos I know him as well, she was like "XX this" "XX that". I was so pek chek that as we were waiting for cabs after work (around 11.30pm), I practically ran onto the expressway in desperation to get a cab and get away from her.

Now I know the torture Kristin and Sylvia went through went I broke up with the Fadz-man. Worse still, I'm the leaky tap that just won't stop flowing. My apologies for the hysterics and whatnot.

Like I said, yesterday, really, really stank.

And yeah, I'm in a bad

Where Oh Where?

Every once in a while, I get hit by thoughts of self-questioning about where life seems to be taking me.

To some extent, I feel like I'm lagging behind my peers (the really high flyer, stylo type), contented to languish in blissful ignominy and mediocrity.

And yet, there's a part of me that can't believe this is all my life has to offer. To remain as a nobody, to watch as people my age, my school mates, my friends, race ahead and achieve things that matter to them.

But therein lies the problem - I'm not sure what I want from life.

Everything tends to go a little fuzzy when I'm lazing about, watching tv, reading a book, lounging about and doing nothing in particular.

There seems to be no drive to say, hey, I should be doing SOMETHING, something meaningful, or something that's going to move me forward, be it in career, in relationships, or in getting noticed by the world.

And usually I'm perfectly contented to let things just be, never having to try any harder. Should things happen, I'd let it happen. If things don't happen the way I want them to, so be it. Move on.

You might say, hang on a moment, don't you go for like a bazillion holidays a year, and have a boyfriend?

Sure, that's nice. I definitely do appreciate having a great relationship with my family and lead a relatively cushy life, something that not everyone can lay claim to.

And I'm definitely thankful for Fadzli, cos I'm not sure there's anyone else who can put up with my brand of craziness (trust me, there's plenty of that).

But is that it? How about personal accomplishments?

Yeah, the career seems to be coming along. But you see, I never thought about becoming a journo. It just happened. I didn't apply for the position. THEY called me. So I've never really thought about what lies ahead, or what I should be working towards, because I never really gave it careful consideration.

My thought process really was - there's a job, it seems fun, nothing else around that really excites me, need money, accept job.

And I've been lucky that they've sent me for to Germany, recognised my work, been published occasionally in print... but again, is that enough?

Is it? IS IT?

Or am I just being greedy and wanting everything?

My Family, the Jokers

At dinner tonight, for some strange reason, we starting talking about weddings and all the idiosyncracies, craziness that goes with it.

And for some strange reason, it turned towards the traditional custom of getting the newly wed couple to eating something sweet and sticky, to symbolize a 甜甜蜜蜜marriage.

Not that any of us are getting married anytime soon, of course.

Mum: In my days, I was made to eat sweet mee sua. For you, I'd be kinder. Can eat 汤圆.

Cheryl: (continuing her Westernized, Chinese-eschewing ways) Told you my wedding will be free from anything cheena.

Me: A Krispy Kreme donut, I'd eat a Krispy Kreme donut!

(Cheryl and I start waxing lyrical about the beauty of a Krispy Kreme)

Mum: (after a long pregnant pause) Cannot. Got hole in the middle.

Cheryl: I can't believe we're having a serious conversation about this.

(after another long pause)

Me: Mochi! Japanese mochi!

(Cheryl and I continue oohing and ahhing about mochi)

Mum: (after careful consideration) Ok, mochi can. I'd fly to Japan and get for you.

Yes, my family is VERY into food. Definitely live to eat, not eat to live.

Why waste calories on something non-tasty?

Was just flipping through some of my older entries.

Damn, but I used to say a lot now, didn't I?

Looking at my newer entries, they seem to be written without much thought, containing very little information and flippantly short.

I wonder if this minimalist style comes from being a radio journo, and hence, trained to write very little.

Or if with age, and the stagnant working lifestyle that I now lead, I just have less to say?

Fewer opinions, fewer views, just going about my work and nothing much else.

I suppose it is reflective of my daily activities. You would think that being a journo means that I'm more connected to what's happening on the ground and around the world.

You would be right. But after spending a whole day immersed in the news, I simply refuse to talk about it after that. I don't want to think about it, I don't want to mull over it, I want to have nothing to do with it.

It's like every other job, right? Who wants to bring work - finance, HR, research, science - home and into personal life?

And so, I eschew all things news-related. Or remotely serious.

All I want to do is be this giggling idiot, fluffy, air-headed, bimbotic, which nary a care in the world.

Not caring that Singaporeans are dying around the world. Not caring that the economy is tanking, jobs are cut, wages are cut, people are destitute. Not caring that depressions rates are up, not caring that the world is crumbling around us.

I just want to watch E Entertainment Channel, pretend that life really is shiny and happy, and top it off with a little Nigella Lawson or Jamie Oliver.

New Year, New Blog Skin

Hmmm, guess I've been neglecting this blog now, haven't I?

Just haven't had much time to do much else, I suppose.

In between coming back from Japan (which I loved, loved, loved to bits), and today, I:

1. Got out of my holiday stupor (took 2 weeks)
2. Went to work (unwillingly, I might add)
3. Met up with friends (but still so many whom I haven't seen forever!!)
4. Celebrated Shawn's birthday
5. Went to Haji Lane
6. Celebrated X'mas Eve with Fadz
7. Celebrated Xmas with the family
8. Played mahjong for days and nights
9. Am in the midst of planning a holiday to Hong Kong with KB Gang in March!
10. Worked on New Year's Eve. Reporting about a countdown party. At Nee Soon South. Yes, Nee Soon South. I'm so bloody cool.

All my photos are up on Facebook. It's such a drag to upload both on Facebook and here...

But oh gosh, it simply doesn't feel like a new year!

Yay, I'm off to Tokyo people!

Yeah, yeah, I just came back from Cologne like 2 weeks ago.

But that was for WORK.

This, is for a family vacation.

Whhheeee!!!! Ramen and sashimi, here I come!

Save me some parties!

xoxo

Sigh, I failed to blog about something really important and devastating that happened to me....

I LOST MY GUCCI WALLET UPON RETURNING FROM COLOGNE.

Yup, my darling wallet survived through a foreign land, through numerous purchases, through museum trips and all.

But I came back to Singapore, went for dinner with Fadz at the Changi Airport Terminal 3 Foodcourt, set my wallet on the chair next to me, and left without it. Just left.

I was so tired that I slept all the way home in the taxi. When I wanted to pay, that's when I realised that my wallet was GONE.

Frantic calls to Changi Airport and the foodcourt ensued. But to no avail.

Sigh, I guess I'd buy a Burberry wallet in Japan.

Fadz offered to buy me a wallet, something nice from Elle or Pierre Cardin.

Oh darling, don't you know once you go luxury, there's no turning back?

Well, my little escapade in Cologne has come to an end.

And you know what? I AM ready to come home. The charm of roaming the streets alone wore thin after awhile. Having people not understand me, either because they don't speak English or can't understand my accent, did mar the experience a little. Some call it an adventure, I call it an inconvenience.

At least when I went to Paris with the girls, I understood a little bit of French. But you know what? Europeans really are quite helpful. I had random people coming up to me to ask if I needed help, especially when I was staring at my map and looking like a hopelessly lost person.

And today marks one year since Fadz and I got back together! Sad that I'm not there with him... but we've agreed to celebrate when I touch down tomorrow, cos 11/11 mah, more cool. Haha!

But I wonder... what would have happened if we didn't get back together? Sure, the 2 months apart hurt like hell, but I'm sure I'd have survived it and moved on. Don't we all?

And would my German experience have been any different if I was single? Would I have flirted a little more, tried my feminine wiles a little harder, been as charming as possible, had a quickie romance on the fly?

Oh well, I can only speculate. But I fly home now with the knowledge that my Fadz is waiting for me at the airport, ready to welcome me with open arms. Knowing that there's someone waiting and looking forward to seeing me... that feels pretty good too.

I used to wonder if I still "have it", if I still desirable to the opposite sex if I was to trawl the singles market again. I used to think that being in a relationship for so long made me dowdy, predictable and unattractive. I'm glad to report that feeling is gone. And I'm DEFINITELY glad that I'm still desirable to some men. I'd leave it at that.

Haha, dunno who's reading this blog mah! But I didn't do anything inappropriate in Cologne, lah! At least nothing outrageously inappropriate. Teehehehehe...

Yay, coming home!

Whoever's reading this and cares, lets meet up soon!

wow, there's nothing to do in Cologne on Sunday at all.

All the shops are closed, and only the eating places are opened.

Again, poor planning on my part, the museums were opened but I'd already visited them on Friday and Saturday.

So there I was, carefully saving my money to blow on Sunday, and there's nowhere to spend it!

So I sat by the river, read a book, ate, but there's only so much you can do of that, before it gets boring, you know?

So I took a walk around town, walked for hours, walked through all the side streets, walked through deserted residential areas, but eventually wound up at my hotel.

And the worst thing is, I found out that there's a huge carnival on Tuesday, but I'm leaving tomorrow! It's supposed to be this huge parade where everyone comes out, drinks, party and go a little crazy. But there's just no way for me to extend my stay any longer. I think my boss would fire me!

Sigh, hopefully I get to do a little more shopping tomorrow....

Hello from Germany again!

The conference is officially over, I'm on my own and itching to explore the city!

For the past week, it's been work, work, work, from 7.30am to 11pm almost every night. By the time I reach the hotel, it's dark and I'm exhuasted and there's no way I want to leave and go partying or whatever.

But it's exhilarating and a little bit scary to be all alone in a foreign land. It's like that thrilling first sip of alcohol, or the first time you successfully sneak into a club underage, or watch an RA movie, or many other things that I should not mentioned... but you get the drift.

Travelling on your own is like a clandestine moment to be savoured, but you're also unsure of what to expect.

My second hotel is quite nice, significantly smaller than the first, but a lot nearer to town. My first hotel, for all it's grandeur, was in such an isolated place that I was surrounded by car shops, washing machine and mattress shops! The nearest sign of civilisation was a Mac's 10 minutes away.

I'm just grateful that the official part of the trip is over. It was so tiring maintaining this air of professionalism. And I felt like I was in such a conundrum - on one hand, I still feel like a student and in fact, some of the student envoys were older than me! So, it was a real dilemma whether I should stick to the students or stick to the PR people and other jounalists. But at times, the students just seemed so.... immature and noisy and I was this close to throttling them.

But on the flip side, the PR people were kinda old, and always tired, and sigh... okok, shouldn't complain so much about a free holiday work assignment.

So you know what? I'd just enjoy being alone for a while. Exploring museums for hours on end (and not have to deal with fellow travellers who are bored), shop wherever I want, eat whenever I want...

Haha, I need to buy another bag! The tiny suitcase I brought is bursting at the seams already... :)

So anyway, this was a video I took of my hotel... as you can tell, I REALLY didn't see much aside from my hotel room and the conference...

And this is where I'm staying now...

Alright, going out now... bye bye.. or as Heidi Klum would say... Auf wiedersehen!

Hello from Germany!!!!

I'm using a German keyboard which is quite quite different from the ones at home, so pardon if i have have any typos. in fact i'm going to minimise the use of punctuation.

the weather is pretty cold, but my clothes are holding out well. the singapore contingent is freezing their butts off, so that's quite funny.

the only thing that's irking me is that i look like one of the students! the pr people think i'm a student, the students think i'm a student, and it's so hard to interview people cos they think i'm a student!!!!!

arrggghhhhhhhhhhhhh....

and for some reason, i can't access my email!! i just know it's all piling up, and there's shitloads to do.... but hey, at least i tried right?

the programme is pretty packed, the only time i get to use the internet is a, at a media centre specially set up at the hotel... and the only free time i get is either before breakfast at 7.30am or when we return at night at 10.30pm. i'm so tired i'm about to fall asleep...

yeah, yeah, i know this post is damn boring and pointless... just want to say hi, cannot issit?#

ok, i'm logging off, this keyboard is killing me. I'm a touch typist, and they've switched the 'y' and 'z' buttons... so I keep typing the wrong letter. bleaghhh....

Injury prone

Sigh, I sprained my ankle. 3 days before I'm heading off to Germany.

No, I wasn't running after a story, I wasn't wearing high heels, I wasn't climbing some mountain.

I was talking to my boss in his office, turned to exit, and my left foot got stuck in the carpet.

Bam! Crack! Ow! There goes the old left ankle again.

Circa May 2007, I sprained my right ankle in Beijing while on holiday. Also in flats.

Circa 2006, I sprained my ankle while playing volleyball. Also in flats (sports shoes to be exact).

My conclusion? High heels aren't dangerous. I've NEVER hurt my ankles in them. It's the flats. they're killing me, seriously. At this rate, I'd run out of ankles to injure.

Bloody sodding hell. At least my boss let me off early to see a doctor.

Work Trip

Since some of you asked what the heck I'm going to Germany for... actually, it's quite a funny story.

Ok, my radio station has this weekly programme that focuses on the education scene in Singapore.

So the reporter in charge of it chanced upon this MNC who organises an annual event for students to discuss about the environment.

Students from 17 countries around the world will submit eco-friendly projects to this MNC and 3 lucky and deserving students will be picked for the conference in Germany.

So anyway, my colleague wanted to interview the 3 Singaporean students for his programme when they returned from the trip.

Upon contacting the PR of the MNC, she asked my colleague if he'd like to accompany the students to Germany instead to witness the conference first-hand.

My colleague of course jumped at the opportunity, but lo and behold, he has reservist duty in the same exact week!!!

So he told my boss, and my boss then casually asked me if I was going on leave in November.

I said maybe, cos I wanted to go Batam with Kristin and Sylvia.

Then she said don't, and told me I'd be the backup for the Germany trip whilst my colleague attempted to defer his reservist.

Long story short, he didn't get his deferment, and I stepped into his place.

And so ladies and gentlemen, that's how I ended up being selected to go to Cologne, Germany's 4th largest city and oldest settlement, dating back to the Roman times!!!

Oh god, i'm so excited, and yet, a bit guilty too. I know it's not my fault that my colleague can't go to Germany, but I still feel bad, and in the office, I'm fearful to discuss my trip with my other colleagues, or show too much excitement.

But on the inside, I'm so happy it's sick. And I'm extending my trip by 3 nights so that I can wander and explore the place by myself.

First time I'd be travelling all alone. Cathedral! Musuems! Churches! Beer! Sausages!

Sigh, happy. *grinz*.

Leaving on the 1st, back on the 11th. Starting work on the 12th.

At first my supervisor didn't want to grant me leave. Cos I'm going on leave again in December. But I kept pestering him until he caved in. Hohoho.

But that also means I only have 13 working days to work on my 5 long stories based on the trip, before going on leave.

Yeah! Must work hard.... :)

Guess who's going to GERMANY for a work trip????

*does a victory lap around the office*

Hu-ha, babbbbeeeeezzzz!

Selamat Hari Raya Bay-bee!

Just a photo post.... of great food, and cute cousins during Hari Raya! And for your benefit Ridzal, all the family photos too!

But first, a homage to my one true love... Fadz mum's cooking!

I'd never get sick of this stuff!

And a close up...

Sambal goreng. It's like bits of prawn and intestine. I always thought that it was oily because it was cooked in oil. I only found out this year that it's actually cooked in coconut milk until it becomes clarified OIL. (!!!)

Li Wern, your favourite beef rendang! And yes, it's still super shiok... haha! And no, I still haven't learnt how to make it.

Sambal Sotong. This stuff is soooo fabulous, it should be a national dish. It's spicy, but not so spicy that it numbs your tongue.

My very grumpy beloved. who still hadn't changed into his baju when I arrived. Reason? He didn't want to get his clothes dirty while digging into the food. He only changed when relatives started arriving.

The brudders (minus big brother Ridz) trying to act cool.

Smile!

Who's this? Who's this, you ask? Just about the sweetest, most adorable, angel, hamster-looking darling in the world!!! Meet Diya! Is she cute, or is she cute? Look at those cheeks! Those eyes!

Come, come, take photo with me.... Aww...

She loved to play with my ring and wouldn't return it. Here's Fadz trying to convince her to hand it over.

Aww, the tudung making your head itchy??

Man, those fingers must taste good...

...so we gave it a try.

Another cousin!! Diya's big brother, Rian! He just woke up, so kinda grumpy.

Family photos time!

Fadz's mum is the eldest sibling of the 2nd generation.

2nd sibling: Chik Ne and family.

3rd sibling: Chik Ros and family.

4th sibling: Chik Ham and family. (and ya ya and yan yan!)

Dunno why all look so solemn. I guess I missed the memo to "play it cool".

Fadz in a baju and me in erm... clothes.

Another cousin. Dunno which branch. He even stopped to pose for this picture.

Fadz being all fatherly. He really does adore children.

And front view of the toddler. Not happy with the camera's flash.

One more for the ride! Rian looks like his brains have been scrambled by too many flashes from the camera.

Good day.

Lifeless

A typical day for me sounds like this...

Wake up, stare blankly into the ceiling, get ready for work, go to work, sleepwalk through my assignments, go home, wash up, sleep.

It's really pathetic. Which explains how I could have missed a get-together with the volleyball girls.

I'm sorry darlings, I was working till 10.30pm.... and then you girls were unsure about what you wanted to do... So I jumped at the opportunity to do something when my colleague suggested we go for drinks.

Yes yes, promise that I'd make it for the next outing.... !

And yet, I'm typing this from the office. On a Friday night. The terminals around me are switched off and if I look up, I stare straight into an empty corner.

The only other person on shift with me is the night editor.

Sigh, sigh, sigh.

On the upside, I celebrated Hari Raya with Fadz's family on Wednesday.

This time last year, we had broken up. I remember I was sitting at home, thinking that life really sucked.

I didn't just miss Fadz, I missed the convivality of celebrating the holiday with his large and boisterous family.

Fast forward one year, and how times have changed. In fact, I can't believe that a year has passed since that "dark period", as I term it.

There I was, stuffing my face with his mum's famous food. Beef rendang, lontong, sambal goreng, ayam goreng and of course, my perennial favourite, SAMBAL SOTONG. I was practically drinking the stuff.

Playing with his numerous cousins. Coming from a small family (I only have 2 immediate cousins), I'm endlessly enthralled by his ever-expanding family.

Every year, it feels like I meet a new cousin, or a tiny baby being cradled in someone's arms.

And of course, seeing his cousins grow up before my eyes... tiny kids whom I used to run after in the corridors, who use to be up to my hip only and have now reached my eye-level.

Sniff, I'm growing old.

Attempting to my the dutiful girlfriend, I stayed till the end, attending to the endless stream of relatives who turned up at all hours, demanding to be fed.

Cups that needed to be refilled, lontong that needed to be cut, dishes that had to be replenished....

And the weird thing is, a lot of his family (whom I only see once a year, and the more distant ones), never know how to react to my presence.

When I attempt to salaam them, they either take my hand in an attempted shake, or look very confused. Or ignore me. I don't know which is worse. Maybe they're afraid to touch my pork-laden hand?

Oh Well. At least I was polite.

And when I was leaving, Fadz's grandma asked when I was planning to wear a baju. *Gulp*

Erm, how bout NEVER?

Or else, make sure your son marry me first. Hah. That should scare Fadz sufficiently.

Fucking Corp Comms Moron

It's amazing how some people can call themselves Asst Director of Corp Comms (emphasis on Media Relations) and not even have the most basic of conversation skills.

Don't even get me started on you apparent lack of skills when dealing with the media. Look prickhead, you piss off the media, we retaliate by digging even deeper and publishing even more salacious news. Stupid, stupid fool.

Let me explain a simple concept. The media and corp comms of organisations/government bodies have a love-hate relationship.

They need us to publicise their good news. But hate us when something goes wrong, cos we pounce on it even faster.

So we do try to have a good working relationship; a lot is give and take. 

But when you try to CENSURE my news, yell at me, intimate me, exercise your will on me, refuse to speak politely when essentially you're asking for a favour, don't hate me if I retaliate.

It all happened when I went to cover some stupid event. That stupid event resulted in an unfortunate accident.

Like any good journalist, I filed an instant report.

Doing their job, they tried to do damage control. Fair enough.

But to go so far as to declare to all media present, "please wait for our media statement before writing anything. We understand that radio has the wrong perception".

What you trying to do? Shame me into doing your bidding?

No dickhead, what you managed to do is make me publish my news on the double, and say you had yet to formulate an answer. You made it such that I was under no obligation, no goodwill left, to wait for you to formulate a generic, two-bit answer.

And then your boss had the gull to call and YELL at me, tell me that I've committed "irresponsible reporting", "factually wrong", "error", and TOLD ME TO USE MY JOURNALISTIC INTEGRITY TO PUT IT RIGHT.

Yeah, like I'd be so motivated to "do the right thing" now.

You don't get to influence the media. You most certainly do not TELL the media what they can or cannot write.

AND YOU MOST CERTAINLY DON'T WANT TO PISS THEM OFF.

So what turned out to be a small matter, has exploded further. I did another story that made you seem even more stupid. And there's more to come. 

Just because you came from the army doesn't mean you get to yell at me like I'm some clueless soldier. I'm not your subordinate, and I'm most certainly not at your mercy.

And when confronted by me, you had the gull to YELL that YOU WEREN'T YELLING AT ME. Yeah, yeah, you just have a loud, obnoxious voice that bruised my delicate ego. Sucks to you. You dare to yell, own up lah! Fucking coward. Only know how to cover backside. Cheebye, kan ni nah tamade chicken! Deny, deny, deny. Obviously no balls left, henpecked, deprived bastard who has to abuse others to feel like a man.

Stupid prick. I told my boss what happened and she called YOUR boss. I hope you get fired. Because evidently you don't know how to do your job, you barking mad dog.

Workplace oddities

I was wearing my Juicy Couture hoodie in the office the other day.

The words "JUICY COUTURE" are stitched prominently in gold on the back.

As I was talking to my colleague, my boss walked passed and said...

"Hello juicy."

If I didn't know better, I would have thought he was trying to be funny, and not in the ha-ha way.

But how odd indeed.

Alamak, failed

My station has this morning talkshow programme that discusses current issues and invites callers to air their views.

This morning, they decided to talk about the workers' dormitory that is being proposed to be built in the estate.

I went for a dialogue session that discussed this issue.

The talkshow producer invited me to go on air to share what went down during the dialogue session.

Haha, but I got cut halfway. I guess I wasn't making sense. Or not interesting. Or sound horrible on air.

Oh dear.

Boohoohoo...

My laptop dio major virus/worm/trojan. I don't even know what it is. It's so lethal, it diasbled my control panel, access to C and d drive, infected my clock and every document says "virus alert!"

I'm so fucking screwed. Why, why, why, did I attempt to download some stupid programme? Even when it didn't have a listed publisher, making it twice as dodgy, I still downloaded the fucking programme.

Urgh! Now every 10 seconds an annoying and false message pops up telling me I have a virus and I should go buy their programme blah blah blah.

And when I thought I "found" an online freeware to help remove the first spyware, it turned out to be another malware.

I'm so so so so so so stupid.

So how? I'm sending my laptop to a computer shop tomorrow. See if they can remove the virus. If cannot, then have to reformat.

Whatever, so it shall be.

DAMN UNLUCKY.

YESSSSS!!!! NDR is over!!!

I was a complete mess at the rally. My inexperience really, really shone through. It was an absolutely NIGHTMARE.

So my duty was to talk to MPs and get their immediate feedback on the PM's speech and the goodies announced.

My bit was to cover the stuff for babies. Lots and lots of stuff to wade through.

But I also had to do a doorstop (which is journo lingo for on-the-spot, off-the-cuff interview with VIP) with the PM. Cos he was commenting about the Table-tennis finals.

Thing is, I didn't spot him coming out of the auditorium at first. So in a haste to talk to MPs (mind you, there were 1,700 people floating about the UCC that night and it was difficult finding appropriate ones) I rushed off to speak to an MP.

When I came back, I realised that the doorstop with the PM had already come and gone.

*$&%&*$(%&*$!!!!!!!

So anywayz, it was a nightmare.

And I realise I barely recognise half the MPs. And most of them give sweeping statements and talk about things in general.

Long story short, had to go beg CNA for the audiofile of the PM's doorstop.

In the end, I only stumbled out of the office at 5.10am. Yes, I arrived in the office at 3.45pm on Sunday afternoon to get prepped for the speech. And left on Monday morning. The morning shift people did a double/triple take. And I belted out "Good Morning, Baltimore" from the movie Hairspray, as I was exiting the door.

Yes, I do such things. Yes, it happens quite commonly when I'm overworked. Yes, my office allows such shenanigans.

I always cackle when I think about how I used to say I didn't want to work in a bank because of the long hours.

Oh yes, that thought alone and the irony of my current situation keeps me entertained for many hours on end.

My Poor Liver

What started out as a gorgefest/steamboat dinner with Haolun and Jialing, degenerated into a binge drinking session with Robin, Chris and Haolun.

Yes Ms Aw, after you left, the drinks came fast and furious.

Let's see....

• Glass of white wine
• Glass of vodka lime juice
• Mug of Tiger beer (only drank it cos Mr Chui got dizzy after 2 mugs, otherwise, I HATE BEER)
• shot of B-52 (which the bartender shortchanged 1 layer of vodka cos she dunno how to make.. idiot)
• shot of flaming Barcadi

The flaming Barcadi was the MOST disgusting thing I've ever drunk in my life.

Stupid Robin. Upon hearing that I've never tried a flaming shot before, he egged me on. It's petrifying to SEE the freaking shot glass and its layer of flames.

But that's nothing compared with the TASTE of the drink.

It was fine until I hit the warm liquor. It was like a truck slammed into me.

My eyes watered, my throat was on fire, and I couldn't breathe for a few seconds. I could hear Chris and Haolun gasping away beside me.

And instantly, my sinus clogged up and I got a cold. Haiz, first and last time.

It was so bad, my very, very kind taxi driver stopped at a petrol kiosk to buy me tissue. And he gave me like 10 packets. He even stopped the metre when he dashed into the kiosk. Such a nice man.

When we were still relatively sober.

Bottoms up of the B-52 (yummy!)! (spot Chui's very red face. And that's from 2 beers. He's just entered a sales job that requires a lot of entertainment. Good luck fella)

All in all, fun night. We should do it again!

Next up, a clubbing session! Ok ok, let me go check my schedule first.

Work, Work, Work

Sigh, Ms Aw, you ask for update, but unfortunately, life has been rather blah.

All I seem to be doing is work, work, work. 12-hour shifts are becoming commonplace. Urrrgghhhh.....

Plus, I'm doing National Day reporting. This means I have to come up with 5 colour stories before NDP, do hourly live reports during the actual NDP show, and go back to the office after the whole thing is done and file another report. My stomach is churning at the thought of it.

AND I'm doing National Day rally. Not that I want to gripe... screw it, I DO want to gripe. We're sending 2 people for each event. But my partners change. Why am I the constant?

DOING NATIONAL DAY RALLY MEANS I START ON THE DAY ITSELF AND THEN I'M EXPECTED TO WORK UNTIL THE FOLLOWING DAY.

Like 4pm to 4am or something like that. sobz...

Anyway, my appraisal is up. Talking to my boss tomorrow. I was having a pretty bad time last week, and I kinda blurted out that I wanted to know if I would be confirmed. I was worried that my sliding performance was gonna affect my appraisal.

The boss hinted that my confirmation was likely. So well, we shall see.

I can't believe it's been 6 months. But after all this time, I still wonder if I'm suited for this job. When people talk about wanting to become a journalist, they usually describe it as a passion, as an ambition. To want to find out the truth, dig into uncomfortable areas, write prose that can change the world.

Do I feel the same way? After all, I've never really thought about being a journalist. It just kinda.... happened. Does it matter that I don't feel those same needs? Does it matter that I view my job as a job, and there's no overriding desire? Does it matter that sometimes I read what I write, despair at its insignificance, but it goes out as news anyway?

The question I've been asking myself is that, would I be happier anywhere else? I used to think that I was destined to do HR. But what made me so certain? Would I have been happier doing that?

I'm rambling now. So tired that I can't think straight.

On a positive note, I'm going for SingFest with Fadz! And Shah, my co-DJ back in SMU, remember? Can't wait! I know it's an odd combination of people, but the concert is going to be rocking!

Oh yeah, and I think my colleagues think I'm incredibly flighty and sex crazed and weird. Just because I put this picture on my 15-inch monitor.

I can't imagine why they would think that way. Might have something to do with how I like rubbing my hands all over my screen.

Oh well. Shouldn't my bosses be happy that I enjoy looking at my computer screen?

Occupation Hazard

Sigh, I've been clocking in more than 12 hours for the past three days. Like I told Fadz, even my eye bags have bags.

He replied, "LV or Prada?"

Gucci, of course, darling.

I have been labouring over the unfortunate drowning incident involving a student from my alma mater.

In case you've been living under a rock and have not read / watched / listened to the news, get the details here and the previous day's news. Not mentioning kid's name so that my blog wouldn't pop up when people do google searches.

Was stationed at the site for the past two days, trying to get interviews with the school president and the family.

What sucked the most is that I kinda feel emotional attachment to this story, seeing how it's my alma mater, my beloved school.

When it comes to such cases, journalists usually take a detached view so that we can get things done in the most objective manner.

Yesterday, when there was still hope that the boy could be found, I didn't feel so bad.

But when we received news that his body had been recovered today.... sigh....

Having to separate personal from professional was really tough. Having to grill Woody, seeing his huanted face, and pushing ahead with questions about safety and checks... Having to deal with the corp comms team like Ann, Sharon, Karen, Shirley... How does one stay emotionally detached?

I guess I simply buckled down and went into auto-response mode.

But when L's father started wailing AS we were interviewing Woody... that was really, really hard.

I did the story as best I could. When the school requested we not put L's photo on our website, we agreeably took it down out of respect for the family.

But when the other media repeated posted his picture.. I mean... I have to do what I have to do. I told Sharon the same thing.

I think the worst part was when L's sister gave a press conference and read out a statement. Having to deal face to face with such raw devastation really choked me up.

When I stepped forward to offer condolences to his sister, I started to tear up and had to look away.

How unprofessional is that.

But the reality is that journalism is part coldhearted.

We deal with deaths almost on a daily basis, be it accident or murder or whatnot.

But when you spend 2 days surrounded by people you have a connection to, no matter how remote, and not some random stranger altogether... maybe I'm weak, but I found it tough to deal.

Am I right for this profession? I'm not too sure. Maybe I just need to be more emotionally detached.

I'm so, so drained now. I can't even begin to think about commencement next week.

Restlessness is setting in

2 years ago, as I was about to turn into an adult as defined by legal age, a restlessness took over.

A pull so strong that at times I felt despair, a pull that was telling me to go experience the world as I straddled the fine line between teenager and adult.

I badly needed to get away; from school, from the same-old routine of life, from my friends, and even my family. In short, I needed to feel like there was more to life than... this.

I was sick to the bone of the tired routine that had taken over me, of seeing and experiencing the same things day-in day-out.

And so I escaped to Vietnam with Fadz. My mum violently forbade me to go, partly because it represented my first trip alone with my boyfriend (for 18 days!), and it meant that I was no longer the little girl who followed her parents on overseas trips. In short, it meant that I was slowly but surely declaring my independence.

Back in 2006, I dunno how many of you realised it, but I was sick of life. The exams were just over, I received the best results of my entire unversity education, the volleyball tournament was over, my torturous OCBC internship was done. I needed a break. I was like this prowling tiger, ready to snap at anyone who crossed my path.

But Vietnam restored me. Bright, colourful delight where I gesticulated my wants, sat through train and bus rides that smelt like hell, got a pedicure at a place that soaked my feet in a plastic bowl, ate like the locals, travelled like the locals... so many memories.

So why am I mentioning this now? Because the restlessness is back.

Lately, I've been getting this feeling of despair again. The feeling that nothing changes, everyday is just another mindless day as a mindless drone.

That for the rest of my life, or at least some time into the future, this is all I have to look forward to.

I thought the challenge of having to write something new everyday would keep me excited. The challenge of having my work reviewed on a daily basis would keep me entertained. But the overall feeling I get is still everyday is the bloody same, nothing really changes.

The relationship with the Fadz? I'd say it's going pretty well, except once in a while old fears and insecurities surface, but that's not unexpected, yeah?

But the worse part is, I'm doing the same thing every day, he's doing the same thing every day, when we meet up, it's pretty much the same thing too.

It's a nice feeling of familiarity, and I do look forward to seeing him each time.... but........... the notion of "is that it? is there nothing else?" keeps popping up.

He's not a fan of trying things new, I'm not a fan of trying things new ALONE. I want to see things from his perspective. I want to watch his face as he does something he never thought he would do. I want to experience new things and talk to him about it, and in the process, discover something new about myself.

I thought an 8-day leave around my birthday in May, thinking that going to KL would be enough to stifle it. Thinking that shopping and eating would be sufficient. That it was all I craved for these days.

Well, lo and behold, it isn't enough. I want more. I want to see more, to feel more, to rediscover the spirit of adventure and doing things off the beaten track.

I want to go to Laos.

Spoke to the Fadz about it, and it appears he might be up for it. But I have to wait until the end of the year.

In the meantime, I'm getting grouchy and snappy again. Some days, I don't even feel like going out with my friends, and just want to stay at home and stew in my own thoughts.

Am I turning into a recluse? Or am I dreaming too much about this?

See if you can spot me! the one with the fairest legs... we drank copious amounts of bad Vietnamese red wine, got so drunk... we then clambered onto the 2nd storey of our rickety boat and jumped into the azure sea.... and then i promptly fell asleep on the ride back to shore. Fadz of course abstained, and managed to capture this.

Home and Rootedness

I was on the train yesterday with Fadz when I was hit by a wave a nostalgia for my time in Paris.

It's really strange, and I don't think it's because I miss being on holiday (erm, I'm not screaming to be back in KL), but rather, I miss the idea of witnessing history and pretending for a moment that I'm part of it.

It's a feeling that's tough to describe... You know how the Singapore government keeps talking about how we need to be more rooted in Singapore, be more connected to Singapore, yada yada?

Well, it just dawned on my that it's a bit difficult to feel a sense of home and rootedness to a place that just doesn't stay the same.

The government talks about home and family, but really, what makes a home? Is it just the people? Or does the environment play a part too?

They say that overseas Singaporeans need to come home because THIS is where home in, where your family is.... So if they equate home with family, wouldn't transplanting your family to whereever you are be equivalent to having a home? What exactly makes you feel for a country, to want to belong to a country, if people are the only link that's keeping you there?

It just feels Singapore is never standing still, that history is constantly being wiped out and pushed out of living memory by the insane need to constantly rebuild and push ahead.

But all the clean air and shiny buildings don't make a country. People need visuals to capture their imagination! Words and ideas just don't feel the same.

History comes in the form of buildings, architecture and monuments that have stood the test of time, artifacts that our ancestors have fought for... that to me, is the idea of rootedness.

The idea that no matter how far I go, how long I've been away, I can always go back and that slice of history will still be there. Something concrete that I can show my children and grandchildren.

It's like, the Chinese have the Tiananmen Square, the French have their historic buildings, the Romans have their ruins. What does Singapore have? A plague to signify that something important happened? A byline in history books that something important took place? Ideas don't inspire people. Concepts don't build nationalism and patriotism. Efficiency doesn't fire up the imagination.

That's why I miss Paris. It's like it's perfectly fine to stop, sit and stare at a building, contemplate about how that building has affected history and made a city the way it is today.

In Singapore, what you're most likely to get is people staring aimlessly at other people. But people come and go in today's world. People are transient. They survive but one generation. Great leaders inspire a group of people. But it's THINGS, BUILDINGS, that stand the test of time.

I just sometimes despair at how obtuse the officials can sometimes get. Sure, I'm all for capitalism and new shiny things. But when does it all stop? If things of my childhood are relegated to mere memories, that I have nothing to show my children but anecdotes, when my memory starts to fade, would my children know the Singapore I know? Would my children care about the Singapore they may choose to be part of or not?

Ok, just a rant. A slight sadness. I respect Singapore for it has taken good care of me, but that doesn't mean I'm passionate or love it or willing to die for it. Because it's a caricature of the character it is attempting to be. Trying to be more than just a soul-less, efficient city that is a holding place for transient beings.

Masquerading as a nation that holds an appeal for its people, rather than acknowledging that people are fleeing to places that capture their imagination, or acting as a gilded cage for those who can't move.

A Harrowing Life of Taxis

One of the greatest perks of my job is that I can take taxis to all my assignments. I've become so accustomed to the lifestyle that I'm unable to take public transport EVEN when it's not paid for.

Anywayz, it isn't all sunshine and roses while taking cabs, ok?

I have to put up with drivers who talk at the top of their voices, drivers who drive as if they are on the F1 race track (this I secretly like), drivers who play techno music at full volume, and of course, mutha-fucking drivers who go in circles and cheat my money.

Of all the cabs that I've taken (and that's plenty, mind you), I have to say that Silvercab drivers are the worst offenders.

They take you round and round in circles, purposely drive slowly, and go a much longer way than needed. Bloody bastards.

Just the other day, I received a life lesson from my senior reporter, S.

I was going to Suntec after work and gave him a lift. When we hopped into a Silvercab, he asked which way he should take. We told him to take the fastest route.

Well, I dunno which driving school he went to but MAKING A BIG ROUND DOES NOT CONSTITUTE THE FASTEST ROUTE.

The asshole made a huuuuggeeee ass loop, and my heart leaped every time the metre jumped 20 cents.

That's when S casually asked the driver if he knew where the hell he was going, and if the route he was taking was truly the shortest and fastest way.

After a pregnant pause, the driver started muttering a whole bunch of rubbish like "you told me to choose which route..." blah blah blah.

S silenced him and quietly took him to task, all the while smiling and never raising his voice.

Amazing. I need to learn his finesse. Anyhoo, we arrived at Suntec, the driver told me to pay whatever I wanted. The fare was $13, and when I offered $11, he took $10 and used his fucking ELBOW to shrug away my $1.

Bastard! I give you money and you shoo me away like some insect!

Anywayz, I try to put S' actions into practice but I must say I lack the guts and finesse. Most of the time I end up slightly yelling at the taxi driver, or quietly shaking my head and making disapproving noises when I'm too chicken to voice disapproval.

Hmmm, style needs work.

All I'm saying is, watch out for those Silvercabs, and the Premier version as well.

Cheats. Or just bloody fools who dunno how to drive. So either way. Keep clear.

Newsroom Saga Update

So I've found out the identity of the person who located my blog and spread the news about my colleagues' romance.

Yes, I know who you are. I know who you told.

I know who eventually leaked the news to the ex-girlfriend.

I suppose I could be mad at you for a) bothering to google my blog from a mere nickname and b) for repeating what you read to other people in the newsroom.

But I'm just as culpable as you are, and we're as guilty as the parties who informed said girlfriend.

Am I angry? Perhaps. But since my colleagues have told me to drop it and forget about it, and that THEY'RE not angry at me, I have no right to stay angry right?

Whatever. Apparently there was some lying and deceit involved. FYI, my blog address is NOT on my facebook account. So please don't cite random nonsense to cover your tracks.

Guess the old sayings right. You can't trust anyone. Even in the nicest of workplaces there will always be politics and shady going ons.

Or rather, there will always be lines drawn in any situation. When the situation is right for 2 people, they become friends. But when they're facing off on opposite sides, these same friends can easily become foes?

Is that too harsh a statement?

Anyway, this thing has been blown WWAAAYYY outta proportion. So let's end it here.

As far as I'm concerned, water under the bridge.