Invisible Images

racing on

2008-02-04T00:28:00.000+08:00

One night, the Boy and I were discussing something not very important when he said something that made me raise both eyebrows. I don't remember exactly what it is, but it made me say, "That's so racist!"

The Boy immediately disagreed. He said being racist is when you hate someone just because of their race - and he was not, and will never do that.

I disagreed because I think making any judgement, positive or negative, based on the concept of race is being racist.

Of course, this does mean that everyone is at least a little bit racist, but that isn't always a bad thing. And before any rock-throwing starts, hear me out k?

Having a preconceived set of notions about anything or anyone means that your mind has a set of stereotypes that it uses. Stereotypes aren't bad - they help us to navigate the big, bad, confusing world by giving us a set of parameters in which to operate. Most intelligent people, however, then rearrange the ideas that we originally have to incorporate additional information. It goes without saying that you get the idiots who prefer to never exercise their brain.

The way I see it is stereotypes of all kinds - racist or not - are like the basic building blocks that we begin playing with first when we first find out about something, but later we can throw them out or keep them as a foundation when we learn more about that something.

Of course, I didn't figure all that out on my own. I read some of what I just said about stereotypes somewhere, but it makes sense to me.

And in fact, I see this happening everywhere. People build little boxes around other people they meet at first, and sometimes these little boxes fit perfectly but sometimes, the boxes get thrown out because they're wrong.

Experience seems to affect how often the boxes get thrown out: as I gain more experience in life - I wanted to avoid saying grow older! - my little boxes fit better more often or need only a little bit of modification here and there.

Maybe one day, I'll be able to size up people with just a glance! That would be so cool!

Why Agnes

2008-02-03T23:38:00.000+08:00

I've just noticed that I've been writing about Agnes a bit, but never actually why he's called Agnes.

What happened was that he really offended some of the sales team by offending their clients (i.e. our advertisers i.i.e. the people who help us pay our bills) so badly that the clients were threatening to pull out all their advertising.

And so the sales team have a constant stream of complaints about him, but they also don't want to rock the boat too much by showing how much they really hate him. As an example of how much they hate him, they completely ignore him every single time he talks to them. Even if he goes over to their desk, and stands right next to them, and calls them by name, they just pretend he's not there and keep on with whatever they were doing before he came up to them until he goes away.

So they gave him a nickname, Shrek. But that wasn't really working out because it was a bit too obvious. Shrek is a tall, fat, hairy monster and Agnes is...well...also tall, kinda fat and hairy.

So we began experimenting with various nicknames. And nothing really worked until one day, J got a call and went to Agnes' desk to look for a set of headphones.

J had sent Agnes out of office on some work stuff, but Agnes forgot his headphones and insisted that J bring them down to the taxi stand where he was. And oh, J better make sure that she was bringing the right set of headphones - the white pair. And there were two sets of headphones on his desk all right.

Only problem: both were white.

To be fair, one was white with orange squiggly patterns, while the other was white with a black logo stamped across the plasticky part. But still...both were white!

So J just took one set and went down, but Agnes got all huffy and said that J had got it all wrong, and stomped back up to office to get his headphones. When I saw him, I was mildly surprised and asked him how come he was back.

He said rather sulkily, and here I quote verbatim from memory, "J took down the wrong pair of headphones. I told her the white ones already." Then he stomped off. Quite literally too, with loud stomping noises to express his irritation.

I had to bite my lips to keep from giggling.

When J came back, I told her Agnes came back, and she said yes, precious (girly name that resembles his real name too much to publish) apparently can use only one pair of headphones when he goes out.

I protested at the use of that girly name - it was far too pretty to use on him! And besides it sounded too much like his own name, so I suggested Agnes instead. For some reason, it caught on, and now everyone calls him that.

Even his cubicle neighbour who's put up a large corkboard and a calender right on the divider that separates their work stations so that she doesn't need to look at him. Did I mention we're not the only ones who've been offended by him? Just the ones who got stuck with him.

The Zara Man

2008-02-03T23:10:00.000+08:00

So last year, the magazine I write for (hereafter known as my mag!) had a turning-9 party that was meant to celebrate the successful nine years as well as to give our advertisers something fun and to enhance their impression of my mag. J and I thought we'd like to dress up a bit, so we arranged to go shopping together. Actually I always think I'd like to dress up a bit!

We had some work stuff to do in different directions but we'd meet up in the super big shopping belt of Orchard Road later. When the time to meet was close, J msged me every little bit to ask if where I was, and to ask if I would be reaching soon - an action most unlike her laid-back, VERY independent self. By the way, I was only 15 minutes late because the work stuff took longer than anticipated.

You see what I didn't know was that J had asked Agnes to help her carry some stuff, and he had offered to wait with her for me. Not really something J felt comfortable with, but she didn't want to fob off his efforts to be more sociable within our little group too - yes, ever the optimistic leader, our J - so she said yes, and they settled in a little cafe for some coffee and a little chat.

When I arrived, and Agnes headed off home having declined our polite invitation to join our shopping trip, J began recounting the conversation rather incoherently with bursts of laughter. Here's what I gathered finally after J had finally stopped laughing long enough to tell me stuff properly.

Agnes' idea of a little chat consists almost entirely of boasting about himself. Apparently he used to be a big spender who spent so much in Zara that he called himself the Zara Man. At the height of his spending madness, he actually went and bought a grand total of ONE Raoul shirt. But he has now seen the folly of his spendthrift ways, and now buys cheap shirts instead because after all, they all look exactly the same don't they?

And his top recommendation for cheap shirts that look good and last? Mustafa Centre.

*For those who think I'm making up this conversation, I swear on all the gods that govern inspiration of all kinds that I'm not.
**And for those who are particularly obtuse, Agnes has terrible taste in clothing. He wears plaid short-sleeved shirts in revolting colour combinations that are too tight and too short ALL the time, with the exception of one time where the sartorial gods decided to spare our eyes, and made him decide to wear a black polo shirt that actually fits properly.
***As an example of how short and tight those plaid shirts are, the buttons are always straining, and you can see gaps in the buttonholes. The gaps in-between buttons gape constantly, and once when he sat down and linked his hands behind his head, we saw his very hairy, very white, very flabby belly. EUWCH.

up and left

2008-02-02T22:46:00.000+08:00

So I'm pretty sure I've mentioned Agnes, who is our official assistant editor but who is a perfectly ridiculous figurehead who's offended pretty much everyone in our little team in the short time he's been here. Oh and he's even offended Bud, who's so named because his favourite phrase is "no budget". How do you offend someone you don't even speak to except like once a month?!

Anyways, to cut it short, everyone has some personal issues with him - even the sales team! - and we all pretty much have to bite our tongue all the time when we're dealing with him in any way at all.

It got so bad that J had to have a talk with him and tell him that he needs to modify his working style and his work attitude and he said that he's been completely professional and that he would continue to be but he couldn't guarantee the behaviour of other people!

When J told me, I had this moment when I couldn't speak, and then I laughed so hard until I cried. As a frivolous aside, good thing my mascara didn't run!

This little talk didn't happen too long ago, just a week or so I think; and the result was that Agnes agreed to watch how he was portraying himself, and to be very responsible and professional.

HA! We should have known he couldn't keep his word.

On Thursday, I left the office with another colleague, D - we were going in the same direction and D said that he was taking a cab and would kindly drop me off at my destination. And as we were waiting for a taxi, D asked me so what my team would be doing now.

And I went "Hah?" - see, I do speak Singlish and very well too I might add.

D said, "well, since Agnes is leaving today, who will be replacing him?"

You could have knocked me over with a feather! I told him that couldn't be true and he insisted it was and said that Agnes had personally told D about it.

I whipped out my phone and called J, thinking that she would say that management thought it was better for Agnes to leave quietly but apparently J ALSO DID NOT KNOW!

Apparently Agnes believes it to be the height of professionalism to resign and leave without first discussing his current workload with his supervisor i.e. J, and without making sure that his work was all up-to-date. Plus when he tendered his resignation - directly to upper management i might add - Bud apparently asked him what his workload was like with the current team, and that liar said that he would email J and make sure J was up to date, and in any case, he didn't have much and that our work was just beginning.

Well, at least it won't be hard to keep my resolution to be nicer to him. He's not even here! Which by the way, means less mental barriers to my posting about the stupid things he's done.*

*I felt a bit wicked for even thinking it because you know...he was my colleague and I thought that if I kept thinking about the stupid things, then I would never get over it. But hey, I can't get over them anyways.

nasty auntie

2008-02-02T22:01:00.000+08:00

This is just a really big rant over one really horrible auntie at my local cze char stall, so feel free to skip it.

She's so mean, and careless, and so couldn't care less about her customers. I know we don't pay a lot and really, we're not expecting fine-dining service, but come on, a little courtesy surely couldn't kill you!

There was once the Boy and I went down for dinner and we ordered gong bao chicken with rice, and baby kailan in oyster sauce. And that mean auntie took my order as take-away when it wasn't. And instead of carefully taking it out of the box, she mixed it all up and served it like that!

It was so messy, and awful and that wasn't the worst of it. You know how you need some plain rice when you're eating heavily sauced food, but here the rice had soaked up all the sauce so that the chicken which were supposed to be lightly coated in the sauce was dry, and the dried chillies which you cannot eat unless you want your throat on fire and your stomach to have an instant ulcer were all shoved everywhere and we had to pick it out super slowly, and I felt so upset and grumpy over my dinner. It was utterly impossible to eat and in the end, I gave it up as a bad job. I also felt very irritated with the Boy for pretending it was okay, and for telling that mean auntie it was okay because he also didn't like how the rice and chicken and sauce were all messed up, and he tried eating it all up to appease me - though why he thought that would appease me when I couldn't eat my own dinner I don't know - and of course he couldn't.

So today this Mean Middle-Aged Woman (hereafter known as MMAW) was at the cze char counter, and I asked for gong bao chicken and she said no more, and that only the fried rices were available. I said ok, and ordered one fried rice with salted fish. BUT not wanting to just eat oily carbs and preserved meat, I asked politely in Chinese, "Auntie, can please add extra egg?" and she said nastily, "Of course cannot."

Now those of you who speak Chinese and/or frequent cze char stalls should know that this is like the height of nastiness for kopi-tiam aunties. One of the reasons that many people patronise kopi tiams is because you can customise your food. It's not gourmet haute cuisine - just good plain food at reasonable prices. You want something more, no problem. There's a little extra charge sometimes, but again that's expected and usually not a problem.

I was stunned by her attitude, and just stammered something like, "I don't mean for free of course" and she saw my consternation and tried backpedaling, "It's not about the money. We're just too busy."

So I just kept quiet and just sat at an empty seat to wait for my food, but really I wasn't very happy because one, she could have just said nicely that that wasn't possible right now, and second, her excuse was flimsier than a house of cards. Come on, how much time does it take to crack another egg into rice?!

And later, when I went home, I found that she had given me the WRONG order. I tell you, if I go down to eat and I see MMAW is the only person manning the cze char counter, I'm totally ordering from another stall or deliberately giving my order to some other auntie.

Evil dinner-destroying woman.

And in case you think I'm being a prissy princess about things, I noticed two other families deciding to buy their dinner from another stall because they were so put off by her - with one woman even saying loudly "No no, I don't want to order from you anymore" to another one of the aunties at the cze char stall who had tried to intervene and save the situation.

Once again, evil dinner-destroying MMAW.

RePlay!

2007-12-31T15:18:00.000+08:00

So I was looking through some of my old stuff, and found this old blog post from a long time ago. But I think the stuff I talk about inside are still kinda relevant to me today i.e. I'm still confused over those topics! So I'm posting it again. People who've already read it, feel free to skip through!

Yesterday, I watched this Chinese show in which one of the characters said she wished things had turned out differently and if only this hadn't happened or that hadn't happened and this guy who was sort of in love with her - it's complicated and I have no intention of going into why he was sort of in love with her - told her that even if the situation had arisen again, the outcome would have remained exactly the same because the characters of each person involved would also have remained exactly the same.

This got me thinking. Yes, I do realise that it does seem as if only Chinese drama serials get me thinking. But you see, Chinese drama serials often have these psuedo-philosophical scenes and also, they are very "drama-mama" as one friend calls it. Besides, they are also very formulaic which allows for parallel commentary running through your brain even as you watch it.

The sentence caught me because I had been, in rather a desultory manner, I admit, pondering on the idea of consciousness and destiny and in that one sentence, the idea of character as destiny popped into my brain.

I dare say this is not a new concept by any means and if I did a search, I'd probably find tens, hundreds, thousands of folks who've already written treatises and stuff on it. Hell, the relation to the nurture-vs-nature debate is so close that I probably seem a right ass and maybe a left ass too for not having made the connection earlier.

Having said that, this little grain of an idea intrigues me. People often speak of time travel and say if they could go back in time, they would have done this and done that, changed this or changed that. Would they really have, if time travel was possible?

We often believe that we make decisions based on knowledge and rational, objective analysis of our knowledge. I don't think that it will be disputed, though, that no matter how logical we think we are, our emotions, preferences, prejudices and values always affect our final decisions.

And what are our characters if not these things? We are "a collection of physical, mental and physiological traits" and these traits pre-dispose us to favour certain options over others. Even if we know that a horrible outcome for us may be the result of choosing our preferred option, we may still choose that option precisely because our character traits demand it.

What I mean is this: X and Y have to choose between saving their money for a computer and to spend their money now for a night out on town with friends. Assuming X and Y have identical financial situations blah blah blah, the only thing that will influence them is their character. X would choose to go out with his friends because he feels that there's no point in having money if money doesn't do anything for you. Y would choose to save the money because he thinks that the money would be better off used for something more useful. But Z might choose to save half the money and use the other half for going out. Maybe two months later, they might get a small windfall - X will think the same and do the same, Y will think the same and do the same and Z will think the same and do the same.

Police can identify repeat offenders because these criminals have a signature that lead them to do certain things exactly the same. Girly magazines advise over and over and over again to change your mindset before you can change your life, your boyfriend, career dips, underwear preferences, whatever. The point is - we are "programmed" for lack of a better word - it's late! I'm sleepy! - to do the same things over and over because of our characters. Even if we had a chance to change any of our actions.

And how are our characters formed? This question is the heart of the nurture-vs-nature debate. If our characters are the main driving force behind our actions, it would mean that if we knew what builds characters, we could influence or even control actions. Going the next step down sort of scares me, particularly after I've recently read Aldous Huxley's "Brave New World" - if governments found out exactly how to build people's characters, change their thoughts, they could directly influence what society will be like.

Also, if we are, indeed, at the mercy of our own dispositions, then is there actually any of that free will thing that all er...religious persons *cough-Christian evangelists-cough* seem to love to talk about so much? I mean, I could say that God made me this way, so actually most of my free will is gone. Sure, there's the possibility of me choosing the other option, but it's not really very likely is it, since I'm already predisposed to preferring one of the options over the other?

Another thing: If we did choose things because our characters already gravitate towards one choice, then what happens to our learning capacity? I think this is where the definition of character comes in right? Our experiences influence and even define our values, prejudices, preferences et al, so our characters are ever-expandable and ever-changing. So with the inclusion of new experiences, our choices become changed.

HOWEVER, if so, then would the above become invalid? Would we become completely unpredictable as changes become wrought in us? This doesn't seem probable to me. In everyone, certain choices never change. Chocolate will always remain the preferred flavour of ice-cream lovers and yet others prefer vanilla. Some people will always be quick to anger, even as they learn to control that anger and some people will always have the patience of saints. Even these small examples suggest that some characters traits are enduring, if not permanent.

The thing is, do such traits have a stronger grip on our actions than the variable ones? And how do such traits come about? Are they really so long-lasting and unchanging?

I'm giving myself a headache.

Profiling Myself

2007-12-30T20:39:00.000+08:00

Sometimes I feel bad for the people who actually click to view my profile, because...well, there just is not much for them to read or see over there.

I wanted to update it, really I did! But when I start to type something about me, nothing sounds quite right. How do you write something about yourself that is not too literal, but not too boring yet not too delusional or pompous?

I typed and deleted, and typed and deleted, and repeated said process for another three times before I threw my hands up in despair. Figuratively though - I have never been able to do that naturally although the phrase is such an enjoyable one to use.

And maybe this problem is related to a bigger one: namely, how well do you know yourself? Some people have claimed to know themselves very well, but I have never been able to claim that.

I am friendly with bits of myself, probably even intimate with those bits but there are some bits that I am barely civil to. Now before anyone jumps to call some psychiatrist to start analysing this sentence for fear that I am a headcase ready to chop up innocent bystanders, just think about it for a moment.

Can you say you know all of yourself, even those parts that have dark desires and impulses that you hide away carefully so that they don't jump out at the most inconvenient moments? I imagine it would be a bit tough to explain why you were delicately tracing the outline of your platonic friend's slender yet tough, long-fingered, capable-looking hands as you chat at a coffee bar; or to say why exactly some rather mean, racist jokes might still be funny to you.

It would take a brave soul to explore all the innermost recesses of their own mind and soul.

I am not a coward, but neither do I believe myself to be particularly courageous. I have too many faults to find a thorough examination of myself to be comfortable. I believe soul-searching is a necessary process, because how on earth do you assimilate the experiences you've gone through and evolve from what you were without undergoing this? Yet doing it all at one shot might literally send me at least into a crazy depression because it seems like I have barely moved beyond the homo-erectus stage of life.

So I think what I've been doing so far - looking at myself, bit by bit; changing a little here and there - might actually be the best road to seeing myself, and from there the world around me, more clearly.

Or maybe, just maybe, this is all just crap and nothing matters much except taking pleasure in the moment, the here and now.

Then again, in the immortal words of all exasperated friends and the Boy, I might just be thinking too much, too far.

Notes on a Laptop

2007-12-30T20:12:00.000+08:00

Just an idle observation that I got as I was reading through some blogs that I missed out on while working. People stop blogging during the holidays but I START blogging then. Talk about topsy turvy…

I’m looking around for a new lappie right now. My beloved Fujitsu has come a long way with me from the time I bought it when I was a silly uni freshgirl afraid to tap too hard on its keyboard buttons up to now as a hopefully more mature office girlie who works in a teeny tiny cubicle. It’s actually still working great, with the exceptions of the occasional graphics problems, but the screen is starting to die and to replace the screen costs so much that I’ve made the decision to let my lappie go, and buy a new one. It actually hurts a bit to make this decision because I’ve become quite attached to it, but I know that I’ll soon be unable to do anything on it at all. A full 1/3 of the screen is darker than the other parts and the dying pixels are spreading – it’s almost like a cancer…

I’ve done a lot of research on what good specs and what mid-end specs are because I want to get the best bang for my buck. I am merely a poor office worker after all! And I haven’t even been working very long. Sadly I will not be able to get a new Fujitsu just because it costs far too much.

Here are my main tasks. I do lots of word processing tasks, and do some minor fiddling with some high-resolution graphics for work and play. I watch dvds, streaming movies and occasionally play games (mostly rpgs, not so much rts’s). I download lots of stuff, and save lots of stuff too, especially piccies from friends – my msn pic is from Principessa! I surf the net a lot – looking at lots of design stuff for work; looking at lots of news/current affairs/gossip/beauty/
fashion sites for leisure; playing lots of online games; and lots of chatting on instant messagers.

What I've garnered after endless internet research, stalking IT-inclined friends and obsessive reading and re-reading of editorial articles, reviews and forum posts, this is what I think I should be watching out for the following:

A Core 2 Duo processor that's 2.0 or 2.2Ghz (T7000 series)
at least 2GB of memory DDR2
At least 160GB of hard disk space
A discrete graphics card - so far, it looks like I should try for an Nvidia GeForce 8600 GS/GT or the new 8800 GTX if I can afford it
wireless internet connectivity (duh!) - basic abg, but abgn is preferable
DVD/RW drive - I think I really wouldn't need blu-ray etc etc.

The only thing is I don’t know if I should get something now, or if I should wait a little bit until after the New Year to get stuff. I had actually already resolved to get a specific Acer already, but another two lappies have caught my eye.

I’d actually like to get something by Jan 2008 but there is news that one of the laptops I’m eyeing may have better screen resolutions on offer in early 2008, though not necessarily in January. Choices, choices…If anyone has any ideas, feel free to let me know please!

Toughing it Out, All the Way

2007-12-29T23:13:00.000+08:00

I was at Holland Village with the Boy when the headlines of a large stack of newspapers caught my eye. The staid black lettering of the broadsheet, published in bold caps, calmly announced that Benazir Bhutto had been assassinated.

I actually strolled past it a little bit before it actually sank in, and I actually gasped, stopped dead in the middle of that busy walkway and turned back to glare at the innocent newspapers. I couldn’t believe it.

I had read her autobiography as a gawky, frustrated teenager, and though I could see that, as most autobiographies are wont to do, it whitewashed her errors, gilded her successes and romanticised her and her nearest and dearest, Benazir Bhutto had impressed me. I cannot remember every bit of that book now as clearly as my teenage self could, but I remember thinking to myself that I must learn from her to be strong, tough and smart – and to do it all with grace, even if I may not be making great changes to history like her.

Benazir Bhutto swerved the course of her life and the world she lived in. She may not always have been respectable – the corruption charges come to mind – and she may not always have trodden a clear road; but even her death ignited a debate about power, its use and its mandates; about truth and the different perspectives each person has of it; and about terrorism and the need for a united resolution to its end. Benazir Bhutto would doubtless have had plenty to say.

I saw on a website that had voted her one of the 11 most influential women in the world for year 2007 this adage that they said particularly applied to her: “well-behaved women rarely make history”. I think I shall adopt this particular idiom for a while.

Quick Catch-up

2007-12-29T21:24:00.000+08:00

Everyone’s been asking me if my blog is dead, but of course not! It’s merely that I’ve been so busy I just couldn’t update it. As Principessa Fiora says, our blogs are collecting dust for a while. Also, staring at a computer screen all day at work actually makes me feel NOT like doing the same at home; and I’ve too much to do to be blogging at work, though I rather doubt anyone would know what I’m doing given the nature of my work.

However, I am clearing some leave at the moment, so ta-da, here I am back again.

Lately I’ve been catching up on the blog of this one friend – let’s call her the Caped Crusader – who’s currently studying in Boston – lucky lucky woman. It’s snowing there now and CC hates the snow claiming it makes her bones freeze and is a pain in the ass to walk on – yep, I thought she could fly! Oh how we have been deceived. But even if she’d punch my eyes out, I still have to say that the snowy pictures she posts are nothing short of gorgeous.

And now that I’ve risked my life and am now living in fear of a death-glare from CC, let me move on in hopes of distracting her.

I quite quite like my job and, as Principessa Fiora said over our lovely Christmas dinner the other day, it’s amazing how one year ago, we were bitching and moaning about how miserable our work lives were. Principessa Fiora has this super prestigious marvellous job at a European embassy and wowee, she gets to go on business trips and see the world on company expense. That’s one part of her job that I envy, although it must be said that I would not change my jobs merely for a chance to travel. I like too many other parts of it!

My colleagues are a pretty nice bunch. We’re a pretty girly bunch, with slim clotheshorse J heading up our team and unofficial assistant head prim proper secretly wild-child Ms. G being the most experienced and longest-surving member of it. SR is the senior creative dude – funny silly guy who’s still pretty childish and oh, is a newly-wed. M is the creative dude that’s new to the team and has the same ridiculous, juvie sense of humour as SR, but mixed up with a little bit of other issues. There’s Agnes the official assistant head whom we pretty much detest – Agnes is of course merely a nickname we have for HIM. That’s right, Agnes is a man, and I foresee lots of whining, eye-rolling, teeth-gnashing stories centring on him and his petty stupid actions in future. Agnes didn’t use to be in our team, but his own project kinda died out though to be fair, it was not through any fault of his own. We got pretty much stuck with him since our project is related to his.

And – just an aside arising out of my irritability at the mailbox-clogging – is everyone on Facebook now and does everyone have to invite me on it and express shock, horror and a little bit of bemusement that I am not on and refuse to be on Facebook, or MySpace or any other of those social networking sites?? I did use to have a Friendster account, but I only went in once and have never ever gone back in.

I think I shall let this entry end on this note – seems like we’ve come full-circle in my admitting to yet another web application I signed up for and never used. The regular use of webmail must be my greatest web accomplishment.

In it deep

2007-03-30T23:40:00.000+08:00

I like being alone at home. It is very peaceful and you feel safe and secure as you never feel, when with anyone else, even if it is your significant other. Night-time alone at home is even better.

There is an exquisite irony in this: as your guard is lowest when you’re alone, the bad things always come to attack your mind.

Have you ever had something you believed that you excelled in, something that has always been one in which you could triumph, where effort has always been amply rewarded? I do.

Now I have doubt, not because of something that happened, but because of something that has not yet happened. It is always the waiting that is so abrasive. Rejection is hard, but there is something that you can do to help yourself through it and there are always other things to turn to.

Waiting, not knowing – these are the cracks through which doubt slips into, the soil in which it thrives and blooms into vile imaginings that poison your confidence and sense of self.

Doubt can be friend or foe, and sometimes both, but now, right now, it is Enemy. Even though I should and do know better than to let doubt take me.

Nutella

2007-03-29T21:47:00.000+08:00

I like Nutella and I think probably everyone in all of Singapore knows what Nutella is and if you don't, shame on you. Go find out. It's delicious.

When I first met my boy, and we first went grocery shopping together, he suddenly pounced on a jar of Nutella. He was sooooooo surprised we had it in Singapore - he said this was his favourite and everyone in Italy loves it and he had never before seen it in Singapore. So of course we had to buy it since we both like it.

Only...my boy doesn't like it. He adores it. He loves it. He is a Nutella monster.

You know those enormous jars in the supermarket? They have the big, medium and small jars and the big jars look like they should last a year for a family of four. The jar is bigger than my hand. In fact, the jar's screw lid is as big as the saucer of an espresso cup, which should give you an idea of how big it is.

Ours finished in something like 3 weeks because my boy eats it plain. With a spoon. Straight out of the jar. He eats it on bread too, and on biscuits, and mixed with milk. In other words, he eats it with everything. Until he gets a stomachache. Silly boy.

As soon as that first jar was finished, we headed back to the supermarket. Even today, now that his mad craving has been satiated, it's still the one thing he can't resist buying. Every single time we're at the supermarket. Watch out, makers of Nutella, for you are in big trouble folks. Demand will outstrip supply solely because of this man.

One fine day, he asked me, in his inimitable thickly-accented way, "Baby, make for me the beeeesssst Nutella with bread." He had just come back for his break from work - he works a split shift - and he was very tired, so I agreed and trotted off to the kitchen.

However, when I took the bread out from the fridge, I realised that it was...not fresh to say the least. He eats white bread while I eat brown bread. He eats mostly in the restaurant where he works, not at home. So his bread supply was rather stale, whereas mine is constantly resupplied.

I felt bad for my poor baby, who worked so hard and asked only for bread with Nutella - well, not just bread with Nutella, but you get the drift! So I took out a small pan, heated it on the stove, and did a quick heat-up and crisped the bread faintly brown on both sides. Then I put Nutella on the bread while it was still hot and gave the toast to him.

He asked for some more, after he finished the first two slices. And another two slices. Then he asked for the same the next day. And the day after that. Until the whole bag was finished.

Now whenever he asks for bread with Nutella, I have to toast the damn bread. I knew I shouldn't have done it the first time.

Sidenote: I really like it with creamy peanut butter too. Just think of it: warm toast, just lightly scorched so that it's still soft and steamy inside but crispy on the outside, dripping with Nutella and creamy peanut butter, warmed faintly and melded together by the heat of the bread.

As you bite into it the first time, the gentle fragrance and the crisp crunch of the toast, the smooth sticky mix of Nutella and peanut butter, all chocolatey, nutty, milky goodness, fill your mouth and nose and throat. Oh the tender sensuous delight!

fear or anticipation?

2007-03-29T21:40:00.000+08:00

Sometimes I think life is quite strange. Princess flowerbloom is waiting and waiting for a certain event to happen, but she's scared to death of it happening. I told her it was just anticipation but she insists that it's fear.

It's quite mad but I can recognise this weird thing in myself too. I want something to happen and am waiting tensely, quite on edge, for it to happen. As it approaches, I want it more and more; then suddenly fear creeps insidiously into my anticipation. I don't know why this happens and sometimes it adds to the joy of finally getting it, and at other times, sours that moment.

Does anyone else ever ever feel this way too? As isky would say, psychoanalyse this!

The godly woman

2007-03-28T13:27:00.000+08:00

So, when I was with the bank, I had my share of strange calls, but I think this one was the strangest.

A woman called in to ask if her husband, who was now in New York, could open an ordinary savings account with the Singapore branch of the bank. I said sure, but he would need to go down to a branch as we would need to photocopy his identification documents and his signature.

This lady then informed me that her husband would not be in Singapore for a while. So I asked if her husband was a Singaporean, and she said yes, so I advised her of this one type of savings account the bank had which could be applied for via a mailed in application or through the internet. However, this account would not have the usual passbook and atm card things.

This lady was quite excited at first, but then she became disappointed because she said her husband needed the passbook and atm card things. I regretfully informed her that in such a case, her husband would need to go down to a bank branch. She asked if she could do it on behalf of her husband and I said that that was against regulations and we would need the potential account holder to go down personally.

So the lady sighed and asked if I was sure and I said yes, I was very sure, and she began telling me of her family problems for some reason. Apparently, her husband owes the bank some money, and so he didn't dare to come back to Singapore. It was a large sum of money - no I won't tell you exactly how much but it's definitely 7 figures! - and it was not money that he personally owed to the bank but he had been the guarantor for his brother's business which collapsed and now the brother had run away, leaving her husband to shoulder the loan by himself and her husband just couldn't because her husband's business had also collapsed and now what were they to do?

I could only make sympathetic noises. I mean, under the circumstances, what could I possibly say??

And she continued saying that she had actually sold her house to help her brother-in-law and had given him all the proceeds from the sale of the house and asked him to pay off his loan BUT her brother-in-law had taken all the money and run!

I made a shocked noise and decided to listen as I reckoned she just needed a sympathetic ear for a bit, and she would later hang up. I continued squirming though, because...wasn't this kinda...personal and private? It was one of the most uncomfortable, made-me-feel-like-shit-about-my-job calls I've ever had.

The lady then continued speaking: now her husband owed the bank so much money and had no choice but to run away and he was so scared to come back and that's why he needed a bank account with an atm card so that he could draw money out to use while overseas and the bank was so heartless because even though they couldn't find her husband, they were still charging interest every single day and they didn't have any heart at all, some more interest was so high they were like loan sharks but worse and she then demanded why why why the Government - when she said government, I really saw it like that with a capital G and by the way, she really speaks without stop that's why there's no punctuation! - didn't catch the bankers because the bankers were such bad people and that GOD - with trumpets and loud drums- would take care of them and that she was going to talk to GOD about it.

I then gulped and said um, well, I'm sure but you know madam if you just um, could persuade your husband to come back, I'm sure he and the bank can work things out in a way that could help both your husband and the bank.....

The lady jumped in again with a no use lah, the bankers are all so heartless, even though they earn so much money and she was sure they would get retribution and she said that maybe she should talk to Lee Kuan Yew to do something about it and then she seemed to think better of that and said no she thinks even Lee Kuan Yew can't do anything and that it would be better to talk to God and she then kindly said that she wasn't talking about poor folks like us who only earn so little but still have to do the bankers' dirty work. She was talking about the evil people who earned so much and still wanted to bully the common folks who were just trying to eke out a living and she just knew that God would punish them, she was going to talk to God and leave everything to him.

By this time I was of course gaping like a fish and could already repeat my line about please persuade your husband to come back and work things out instead of running away. The lady was of course, off and running like a train and had no ear for my words anymore, which I have to admit were pretty weak against her hard-luck story. To tell the truth, I thought this kind of things only happen in movies, and television shows...

I quickly pressed the mute button and was frantically gesturing to my manager because obviously the conversation was already beyond my control. My manager made a one-minute-please gesture to me, and I was like come-over-right-now-please-oh-please look to her, so she leisurely sauntered over and I began telling her that there was this woman ranting on the phone and I had tried my best but I didn't know how on earth I could control the situation anymore.

In the meanwhile, the woman was growing more agitated and suddenly she said thank you so much ah miss for listening to me but now I must go and talk to God, but thank you so much and then HUNG UP.

And I was left listening to a dial tone. My manager could only laugh after I told her what happened.

True stories

2007-03-21T21:31:00.000+08:00

Well, to paraphrase princess flowerbloom, I have returned from my blogging hiatus. Well, not that I am a super blogger, but nonetheless, I know there are folks who do read this for which I thank you.

Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, I have plenty of stuff to tell you though naturally everything remains anonymous. I promise that everything I say today is totally true, even if it may seem irreverent and perhaps a tad obnoxious at times. This assertion may seem strange, but wait til you read the post.

Let me begin by informing everyone that my contract job with the bank has finally concluded, for which I am devoutly thankful. If I had not believed in gods and goddesses, I will probably believe after this. Suffice it to say that I doubt I will ever ever work in a bank again. Never ever.

However, this stint has opened my eyes with regards of the stupidity of people in general. Even rich people. Perhaps especially rich people. Maybe it's something about having a mountain of money to toss around that makes rich people arrogant and blind enough to think that as long as they offer enough cash, things can always be done their way, rules, regulations, local and international laws be damned. No offense to the humble, unpretentious, passionate, nice, understanding, lawful, honest rich people out there - which may not be many, but there has to be at least one right? I know I know, I'm such an optimist. You can't find those qualities even in poor people.

For example, one of the services many banks have to offer is internet banking and customers often have trouble with it, especially when they try to make interbank transfers (which is basically transferring your money from one bank to another bank). Now if you are doing an interbank transfer online, and you are having trouble, it makes sense to call someone at the bank to help you.

However, for the love of all that is good and delicious and beautiful, please note that you have to call the bank who owns the website that you are trying to do the transfer from and NOT the receipient bank.

In other words, if you are trying to transfer money from Bank X to Bank Y, you would use Bank X's website. If you are having trouble using Bank X's website, CALL BANK X. Do not call Bank Y. Bank Y is only going to receive the money when Bank X transfers the money and will NOT be able to tell you if your Bank X account number is correct or what mistake you have done on Bank X's website if the transfer is unsuccessful or what the correct procedure should be on Bank X's website or what the additional security password is. The reason for this is very simple: you are using BANK X's website. Not Bank Y. Therefore, CALL BANK X.

Also you may want to take note that BANK Y WILL NOT KNOW YOUR BANK X ACCOUNT NUMBER, even if you are transferring money from Bank X to Bank Y for the very simple and obvious reason that this account number is known ONLY TO YOU AND BANK X, even though Bank Y is receiving the money. You see, Bank Y only receives the money. Bank Y will put it into your Bank Y account. Bank Y does not check to see where the money comes from. Bank Y receives instruction, checks which Bank Y account number and name it should go to, and takes the money on YOUR behalf.

Yes, I do appear to be pointing out the obvious which anyone with half a brain should be able to figure out but strangely enough, we get this kind of enquiries everyday. That's right laddies and lassies, we get asked this kind of questions every single day.

Second example, if the bank has made an error with your instruction, which should not happen at all, seeing as how a financial institution should be more careful blah blah blah, but which can happen and often does happen especially in certain banks - human error and all that - please do not yell and rail crazily at the poor people you call or walk up to in the bank outlet, because THEY ARE TRYING THEIR BEST TO HELP.

Contrary to popular belief, service personnel at banks do not keep you waiting because they are bitches who enjoy making their customers angry or because they think they can do anything they want since they are holding your money and therefore have you by your short-&-curly hairs -- well, most of them aren't at any rate.They keep you waiting because they have to try to contact the correct department who may have handled your instruction, they are asking what happened, they themselves are WAITING FOR ANSWERS too.

Therefore, screaming vulgar language and nasty names at them as they are trying to get answers does not help. It only exhausts, upsets and annoys them and furthermore, the time taken to pacify you could have been used to find out what went wrong and what they can do to change the sitch.

The best way to find out what went wrong is to have all your information at your fingertips. Have a succint version of what happened, your personal details, have your account numbers, have your dates, have the names of who you spoke to and their departments, have the amount that was indicated in your instruction etc etc. In other words, have all you need ready so that the person can help you in the fastest way possible.

If you are upset and angry, you should express that and if you need to raise your volume or want to speak to a manager, so be it. Frontline personnel understand that they may from time to time need to be polite to utter and complete assholes, but they are not the ones who made the mistake and they should not be stomped on like the ugly vicious bug that used its needle mouth to pierce your skin and suck your blood. Save your wrath for the person who made the mistake or who is trying to cover up for the person who made that mistake or who is trying to twist words into such a manner that it seems like it is your fault for a mistake that the bank made.

By the way, if you're calling the bank's hotline, the bank personnel who picks up your call HAS to verify your identity with an indeterminate number of questions. Otherwise they are NOT allowed to answer any question at all with regards to your account, even if it's only to ask whose name the account is in or the account number or the outstanding balance of the credit card or what kind of account it is or even which branch it was opened in. In other words, if you can't identify yourself as the owner of the account, shut up and hang up. You have no business asking about someone else's account unless you're a bloody criminal, in which case, your career path sucks.

By the way, this applies even if you're the wife/husband/father/mother/tranvestite lover/adopted African child of the account holder. The bank does not care and will not give information to anyone who is not the account holder or authorised by the account holder via written instructions (in which identification details about the authorised person was given) to handle account information and transactions.And if you want to give shit about it, just think to yourself what might happen if they just freely give confidential account information to everyone who called in claiming to be the wife/husband/father/mother/tranvestite lover/adopted African baby of the account holder. Yeah, I thought that was a good point too.

Different banks have different policies as to the type and number of questions, so shut up about your free-and-easy experience with so-&-so bank because they already know that and stop whining about how the last time you called in just yesterday, you did not have to answer this type or this many questions because they also already know that you're lying your mouth bloody. And once again, if you wanna flay the bank officer because they're doing their job and PROTECTING YOUR MONEY by asking identification questions, I say shut up and stop wasting their time and your time because it's the law and also because it's the bank's policy and they could get fired for not asking the damn questions and so they will keep asking the damn questions.

All this may sound like I am on the bank's side. Certainly after working there, I can understand the venom people want to spew at banks. I am on the side of the people who work there and are paid too little to take the shit that people pour on them because of their bitter hatred for the bank or their self-loathing at their own sloppy mistakes with their finances.

For example, there once was a person who called in saying that he had received bank statements for some money that he had to pay. After checks, it was found that he owed a small amount of money that he was supposed to pay in small fixed monthly instalments. He had NO IDEA AT ALL that he owed this bank this amount of money and in fact, expressed utter shock and horror that he owed any money at all and that he felt that the small sum owed was actually a large sum for him.

When questioned further, it was discovered that this person's secretary had handled all his personal finances and now that the secretary had gotten married and decided to quit her job to enjoy her new life - or her new husband hehehe - this person was at a complete loss as to the state of his finances. When he asked if he could pay everything back at one shot, the terms of the loan stated that if he did that, he would have to pay all the interest he would have paid over the tenure of the loan AND a penalty.

Laddies and lassies, I'm quite quite sure that I do not need to bash you over the head with the moral of this story.

A peep in

2006-12-03T23:53:00.000+08:00

Ladies and gentlemen, a startling discovery has warranted this short posting.

My macho angmoh boyfriend, who happens to be slightly chauvinistic and believes that certain chores are woman's work - yes, he is indeed one of those, although I argue obstinately and constantly with him about it - is actually a Singaporean teenage girl at heart!

He has fallen madly in love with Korean soaps and is currently strongly addicted to Love Story in Harvard which is broadcasting once a week on VV Drama. Actually, I must say in all fairness that I, too, enjoy those sappy dramas. I especially love it when they really wring my heart and make me cry.

I think I should introduce him to Winter Sonata, which is the second Korean drama I ever watched and which I think is one of the most heartwrenching and therefore is still one of my faves.

This might be an exciting new way of bonding for us.

New friends and old

2006-12-03T19:30:00.000+08:00

After I began work - incidentally, it's making me appreciate sleep so much more - I suddenly have a whole bunch of new friends and it's so exciting. I don't mean just those people where you say hi and bye and chitchat with in the workplace. I mean people whom you actually hang out with outside of work and laugh crazily with about idiotic things.

Some background: we began work with training and in my class, there are 11 of us. We're rather a clique-ish bunch though we pretty much get along really really well with each other, with the exception of our class outcast, whom we've nicknamed Boingboing (hereafter shortened to Boings!). There's one in every class I guess...I do feel for him, but on the flip side, I must say I think his behaviour is pretty much "asking for it". He's really mean and molester-y (when drunk) and he has this nasty habit of tale-telling.

Anyway, my base clique is known as the naughties. I don't believe we're really that naughty but certainly we're the noisier bunch, prone to laughing and giggling crazily and making dumb jokes. The main naughties are 4: me, Els, T and the D.O.M. We drink quite a bit too, when we go out, although no one can beat T. That girl must have like two stomachs - one for alcohol and one for food.

And then we have the extended clique: the main naughties, plus WaferMan (who gets 10-min muscles when he eats chocolate wafer biscuits!) and TiuTiu (aka Ah Beng).

Then we have the Quiet Girls 3: Ur, I and Ju. Then there's all-inclusive gentleman, Jer. He just goes around with every clique and fits in well and is friendly with every clique.

Of course, depending on how each day goes, sometimes one person detaches from one clique to spend some time with another clique etc but pretty much this is the sitch.

The main naughties are the closest, I believe, with the extended naughties a close second. We gossip, chat and play together and club and go out and generally have fun together quite a lot a lot! They're so much fun. I do understand that we haven't met any truly nasty situations that we must face together, but I think we pretty much understand one another.

Oddly enough, after I started working and going out like crazy because the main and extended clique are hanging out so much - I told you we were close!or getting there at any rate - I met like quite a number of people I haven't seen in ages.

Like just yesterday, I met Circle, who was this guy I knew from my old workplace and who is now working for a mobile phone service provider and is now in the army. We had the potential to be good friends I think, but never got the chance to hang together, but now it seems we can start on being friends.

That old cliche must be true. When you smile at the world, the world smiles back and like does attract like - when you have an active social life (rather suddenly), you attract more friends. Wonder if this works for money too...

I'm meeting some old friends quite a bit too. Neri I've seen quite a lot and also I've spoken to Mits quite a fair bit (our contact has been sort of erratic since she began work).

Wish I could say the same for Princess Flowerbloom and Fai. One has been living out of a suitcase for like two or three weeks now, and the other has gone Down Under to attend a sister's graduation ceremony. They both won't be back until after my short vacation, which is liek really terrible because I hate squeezing our time together. I really miss both of them, since I haven't seen them in soooo long.

New friends are exciting, but old friends are an anchor: they remind you of who you were and how you became who you are and they also laugh crazily with you about stupid things. And if you're really friends, it's always exciting to meet them.

I really want to see them. Come back soon. Sigh...

As for the other friends reading this, I miss y'all too and sms me!

Cartoons Confession

2006-11-11T23:42:00.000+08:00

I was in luck today - The Incredibles was on the Disney channel!I was watching and grinning foolishly to myself as I watched the Incredible family battle a wannabe with their cool powers and make silly puns at the same time. I think the baby is the coolest. I love how it turns into a scary monster.

I also caught Pokemon at 11am today - a guilty indulgence that my sister hooked me to. When I first watched it, I was all eye-rolling. Nowadays, I have a gleeful sense of irony and nostalgia (most probably for earnest feel of the whole show) when I watch it...I remember one of the lyrics from the opening theme song - it goes "I'm undefeatable!" Yeah! Power of positive thinking anyone?

Then back to Disney channel for Kim Possible, possibly one of my all-time favourite cartoon shows ever. Please don't ever ever ever let it end, Disney channel and I totally approve of how Ron and Kim are together, though maybe kissing was not the way to go as an ending to the episode and more more more of Senior Senior Senior and Junior Senior Senior and Shego! Team Go episode was hilarious - "I have a website and I'm not afraid to use it." I could - and have - watched re-runs and still found them fresh and entertaining.

Also, cheers to Nickelodeon for Danny Phantom. A boy who's half-ghost and half-human, battling ghosts to save the world and his growing pains.

Hurray for Justice League Unlimited, Teen Titans and X-men Evolution from Cartoon Network, though I must confess I prefer the original X-men. Teen Titans are really good, though I think it's sad that they've split up Robin and Batman. I do wish there was a dark Batman cartoon back too. I don't really like Superman, I'm afraid, though the giant blockbuster that screened recently has made me rethink my Superman animosity. Batman is still cooler though.

I thank Arts Central every Wednesday, Thursday and Friday for broadcasting animes. My beloved Shaman King has ended just in time, since I wouldn't be able to watch it at the timeslot it was broadcasted in. Inuyasha is fabulous too, but I can't watch it sadly because I'm usually quite knocked out by 11plus and it just doesn't work for me when I can't see the ending of something!

I realise there's this cable channel called Animax, but I don't know if subscription is in the works for me on this one, so I will be clinging tooth and nail to try and finish the season of Inuyasha that's on now.

Spirited Away should become a classic and I am keeping my fingers crossed for a sequel. Come on, the girl and the dragon spirit have to come together right!

And now having revealed how much I live and enjoy living in a fantasy world filled with primary colours and black outlines, I find myself eternally grateful for how big the internet is.

All jobbed up

2006-11-11T18:51:00.000+08:00

Okay, so I've been a bit naughty lately - No not that way, get your mind out of the gutter! I haven't been updating and neither have I been online. Apologies to the concerned folks, but haha, I've been busy because I've finally accepted a position.

It's with a bank in a place far away from my home and I have to wake up sooooo early that I can't be online as much as I'd like - nerd alert! - so I haven't been updating either. And also because I've been quite lazy about updating.

Don't worry, just because I'm now working in a bank, it doesn't mean I'm a banker...exactly. It just means I work in a bank. I have a nice lot of colleagues - all the girls are pretty but none of the guys are hot, though they are very nice. Though why oh why can't any of them be at least a little bit hot?! I'm in training now and there's so much to learn and so little time to do it that sometimes I'm in a bit of a panic as to how to fit it all in. And some parts are so dry that I can't help dozing off. Of course, it doesn't help that I need at least 8hours of sleep, preferably 9 and now I'm getting like only 6 or7.

It's such a change from my job-hunting days when the time was mine to do with as and when I wanted and basically I was lolling about all day and alternately having tons of fun and being bored out of my skull.

It's icy!

Of course, it means that I barely can see my boy now which is not cool but ah well, it can't be helped. Besides we do see each other's face a couple of minutes a day......Sigh.

In other news, I've changed my mobile phone, but not the number. I had to because the screen of my sturdy old phone that served me so well - yes, you do detect a sentimental attachment to that phone - has been spoilt. The screen went all fuzzy and crazy and though I tried to hang on as long as possible, it couldn't be saved.

Now I have another pretty new phone, a slider thingy, all sleek and black and hand-sized and touch-screeny with a camera and antenna-less. It's totally ice! Though I do have to admit, I miss my clunky old phone in some ways.

This is just a quick update fluff piece - I'll post some proper pieces later!

Scariest job interview bit

2006-10-13T21:37:00.000+08:00

So everyone knows I'm job-hunting right? And I've been through quite a number of interviews. The following was the scariest bit I've ever been through:

Interviewer: "So let's say you've presented your work and there was a small mistake because everyone makes mistakes sometimes and the person you've presented it to starts shouting at you. How would you handle that?"

Me: "Oh I think in this kind of situation you need to be very calm blah blah blah blah**."

Interviewer: "What if this person is your boss?"

Me: "I would handle it the same way because blah blah blah."

Interviewer: "If it's a very minor mistake, and you think he's over-reacting?"

Me: "Blah blah blah."

Interviewer (nodding): "I see. What if the boss has been holding in his temper all day and he just suddenly exploded even though it's a minor mistake and he screams at you in front of everyone?"

Me: "blah blah blah...and since he's obviously so stressed, I might advise maybe a yoga or kickboxing class."

Interviewer: "Actually he already goes to a yoga class."

Me: "Oh."

**blah blah blah are my answers and actually they're pretty unimportant, so I didn't type them down.
***Oh and since I'm doing that star star star thing, I'd just thought I'd let you all know that I can't remember the exact words of the interview, so this is the gist of what I remember.

Thaaaaat's right folks. Apparently she's drawing all these questions from real-life experiences. I politely declined the job offer.

The incident of the man in the library

2006-10-12T00:06:00.000+08:00

So I promised someone to post this and it's probably a good idea cuz this is such a good and weird story but I might forget it, so here it is.

So the sitch was - I'm watching too much Kim Possible! - that I was drifting around the library browsing the shelves while waiting for Principessa Fiora who was late. While I replaced a book that I had flipped through, I suddenly looked across the gap that exists between the tops of books and the tops of bookshelves and met the eyes of a guy.

So this is not so strange you may think but you see, the goosebumps-prickling part of it is that he was smiling at me!

I quickly turned away, sort of shocked but a bit ashamed of myself for being shocked and y'know, generally grumpy and unfriendly. I mean, hey, you accidentally lock eyes with plenty of strangers right? And not everyone is as er...amiable as that guy...

Or so I chided myself, although of course, the unspoken rule is that if you do ever meet the eyes of anyone in the whole wide world, you quickly flick your gaze away, or if it's too late, and you've actually been blatantly staring at someone, just give a small, embarrassed, shy, tentative sort of smile and then quickly flick your gaze away. Nobody gives a wide toothy leery grin. Unless they want to give the goosebumps to the gazed-upon. Like the ones I got - both grin and goosebumps - and trust me, these are not the good, spine-tingling bolts of delight and desire. These are halfway-to-freaking-out goosebumps.

So anyways, I already thought this would be a great story to tell Principessa, when suddenly I felt a soft gentle tap on my shoulder. And lo! beside me stood the guy who grinned. My mind went EEKS! and my heart began thumping, quite irrationally and my goosebumps prickled harder.

As I was wearing the earphones of my mp3 player, I could only see his mouth move. I thought perhaps he had some question to ask of me, directions or something - I know I know, directions in the library! But I was already a bit freaked by the incident above, so wasn't thinking properly...anyways, do you want to hear the rest of the story or not! - so I took out one of the earphones and whispered, "yes?" In answer to that, I could only see his mouth move. I lowered the volume and tried again, "sorry, what is it again?"His mouth moved again.

"Er...I can't hear you." Impatience was starting to ripple through my mind. I mean, hello, this is library time. I wanted to commune with the books and not with a man who didn't know how to use his voice.

A bit of throat-clearing and behold! his voice sounded, raspy as an autumn leaf. "Can we make friends? What's your name? I'm XXX." His name is, of course, not really XXX.

I felt a bit dazed. Astutely I perceived that he did not need directions after all. Embarrassment squirmed through me and I furtively looked around to see if anyone was looking at us. "Er, my name is ShortFormofLongName."

"Are you alone? Where are you headed? Can we exchange phone numbers? Please don't worry, I just want a very platonic friendship and I definitely won't call you if I have your number." He smiled, showing a large number of teeth.

Shock, embarrassment and a general freaking out ensued in my mind, though I politely smiled. I can't be sure if my eyes widened or not, though.

Who on the face of the earth tells people that they just want a very platonic friendship to someone they were trying to pick up?!? It's just plain freaky! Who in the world would not call a chick whose phone number they managed to get?! That just sounds like a total lie! And who the hell picks up chicks in the library?! My place of peace, happiness and joy...sullied! I know, I'm a complete geek AND a nerd.

And where on earth was Principessa Fiora! "Er...er...I'm meeting a friend here, she's a bit late, but she's coming soon...er...sorry but I don't think I can give my number..." I said as apologetically as I could manage, my mind wildly fishing for an excuse, any excuse. "My boyfriend doesn't like me talking to strange men."

"Oh I understand your situation, but we can message each other instead if you exchange numbers!" He said with a triumphant flourish in his whisper.

A what-the-don't-you-get-it expression was trying to roam across my face but I heroically suppressed it. "Er...I still don't think I can give you my number. I don't think it works that way."

He looked startled. "Oh like that also cannot?" Like DUH! He thought for a moment as I searched desperately for a polite way to excuse myself. "How about I give you my number and you can call me sometimes, once in a while, to talk and perhaps we can take coffee?"

"Er...er..." I glanced around again. I felt desperately trapped. "Sure." I took down his number and said, "Er...well, thanks for coming over. Bye." I smiled tentatively and he grinned again and waved goodbye and I slowly backed away into another aisle.

As I was madly messaging Principessa Fiora asking her to hurry up, she appeared, one minute too late.

Of course, later it sounded funny when I was relating the incident to Principessa Fiora and now writing it down, it seems funny but this does make me wonder about a few things:

Don't guys understand hints anymore? Is it really necessary to bash people over the head with what you mean?
If you get the phone number of a girl, will you really not call it?
If yes, then what's the point?
Why do guys think it's okay to pick up chicks anywhere (when I, as a chick, think that it's okay for guys to try their game only in certain places, one of which is NOT the library)?
Why did this guy think that my excuse meant we should communicate via SMS or phone conversations instead of face-to-face?
Why did he insist on my taking his number when the chances of my calling him are practically zero and the chances of my deleting it are practically one-hundred percent?
Is he brave or just weird?

See, the thing is, life keeps giving you problems to solve and fables to connect, but I don't know the moral of this one.

Inertia

2006-09-27T01:00:00.000+08:00

Newton is a great physicist and yes, I know I used present tense when I should have used past tense since he's dead and all but I used present tense because I don't think that his death invalidates his magnificence. I mean, come on!That guy inferred the existence of gravity from an APPLE.

Uh-hem. As I was saying, Newton is a great physicist and his First Law proves his greatness because this law is universally applicable. Even to people. Especially to me.

Newton's First Law states that an object at rest will always remain at rest and an object in motion will always travel in the same direction and speed so long as it is not disturbed by any other object or force in its direction. Um, it's not very scientific, but the sense of it is there.

I now declare that I am in a state of inertia. Frightening state of inertia, I might add. I have barely done anything about the things I should be doing.

In any 12-step programme about addiction, confession and knowing you have a problem is no. 1. Now...if only I could move on to step no. 2. Which would probably consist of me slapping myself silly so that the pain would distract from my fear of failure and rejection. Hey look! Pop psychobabble! I'm so good at that, it's astonishing.

Is it fate?

2006-09-23T01:21:00.000+08:00

In Casablanca, Humphrey Bogart famously said "Of all the bars in the world, she has to walk into mine" or something like that anyways.

I met this girl today - she's like 30plus, but she looks so young that I can't help but think of her as a girl - and she mentioned that her new boyfriend of a few months is a Brit who lives in Finland and who comes to Singapore every few months to give guitar lessons to some rich brat.

If she had been too busy to go to the concert where she met him, if in that split second where she decided to do something else besides go to that concert, their paths would not have converged...or perhaps they might have missed a few years of happiness before their lives and loves touched.

It got me thinking about my own boy. I met him at work, and I really really disliked him at first because I thought he was arrogant and I heard - but apparently there was a serious miscommunication by kaypohs - that he said I was F-A-T. So hair-pullingly insulting!

Anyways, there was this whole series of comic events fit for a sitcom and we finally got together after he completely and utterly swept me off my feet... Both figuratively and literally. And we might have never gotten together if I had decided to take up another job offer when I was still on probation with that job. And if I hadn't decided, at that point in time, to be more adventurous, date-wise.

And he might never have met me if he hadn't come to Singapore for a one-month holiday and decided to stay to set up a business with a friend. And if he hadn't fallen out with his friend and struck out on his own to find a job. And if he hadn't finally broke up with his girlfriend whom he had tried to break up with 3 or 4 times before.

So many ifs that finally led to us discovering each other. Sometimes, you find the right person, right feel but it's the wrong time. Oftentime, it's the right time, but wrong person. It really really hurts when the conditions or the person is wrong.

But on occasion...just on a few precious precious occasions, it's the right time and the right person.

I met someone who told me when I speak of my boy, my eyes and face light up and glow. I hadn't realised that and I'm so glad that I met someone who gives me that and I hope I give him that.

I also hope that someone whom I absolutely adore and who will be reading this will find the person who gives her a glowy lighting up feeling and forget the one who pulls her down into a muddy spiral of depression. Huggles to you, principessa fiora.

PostSecret

2006-09-18T00:37:00.000+08:00

I really like the PostSecret concept and its blog - postsecret.blogspot.com. I'm quite a voyeur, and this is like peeking into people's secret lives but with permission. And when I read some of these secrets written on the creative postcards that are sent in, it engages my imagination immediately.

Some of them are quite eye-widening, and some a bit horrifying and some totally sweet and a few are inspiring. All are jaw-dropping. Entire life stories can sometimes be seen in that brief glimpse.

My favourite this week is the one right on top, about the unshaven man. There are others undoubtedly more poignant and some rather more gritty, but this one brings a movie into my head, and a wide smile on my face. Maybe soon I will post the stories strolling around my brain.

Is it always darkest before dawn?

2006-09-18T00:07:00.000+08:00

What if dawn never comes and it is darkest all the way?

Life is really quite a discouraging endeavour and to people who can remain cheerful and optimistic all the time, I say good for you while wondering if you're real.

Me, I get the grumps and the doldrums and the difference between the two is a big toothy snarl and acid words. Trust me when I say PMS has nothing on this.

Lately I think life has been more discouraging than usual and if not for a few very very special people, one of whom will be reading this, I would probably be sunk into a spiralling black hole of depression. So thank you very much for just being you and being there.

If the title of this blog is true, I guess my dawn must be coming quite soon. There are a few prospects on the horizon, but I'm quite resigned at this point to the necessity of swallowing my pride and doing something I'd really rather not be doing, as I seriously doubt that the prospects will solidify and materialise quite soon.

Cross your fingers for me, everyone.

Scent photograph

2006-08-28T16:51:00.000+08:00

Sometimes when I wash a bowl which I have used for steaming white rice, a scent will lazily waft up. Not a pungent smell, nor rich. A gentle smell, simple and soft.

It reminds me of my grandfather: a tall thin man who ate less and less as the cancer ate more and more of him. White rice was important to every single meal and sometimes when I was small and stayed over with them, rice was even part of breakfast.

It reminds me of my grandmother: a short round woman, who cooks amazing meals. Delicious meats and vegetables, stewed, stir-fried, deepfried, steamed, braised, rich with sauces and gravies; steaming pots of soup, crammed with ingredients, intense flavours and magnificently aromatic but in the way of Chinese soups, light and liquid. 73 and still going strong! Go popo!

It makes me think of my daddy, who never feels full without rice in the meal. Rice is not the foil to this man - it's ESSENTIAL.

It makes me think of a time when I was small and very skinny (SIGH), all arms and legs and mouth and stomach.

It makes me think of Chinese New Year Eve and its requisite reunion dinner: never complete with rice, and with plenty of food to liven up the meal. Spicy soya sauce prawns, batter-fried prawns, giant steamed fresh fish, stewed pork with mushrooms, meatballs in peppery soup, literally a giant platter of stirfried vegetables and also a huge dish of fried vegetable, omelette strips and fishcake beehoon.

Oooww!I want Chinese New Year to come now!In the meantime, white rice with a sunny-side-up egg dripped with dark soya sauce will do. Egg-yolk oozy please!Mmmm....

First

2006-08-27T23:59:00.000+08:00

This is my first time blogging on this brand new baby blog of mine. And it reminds me of all the firsts I've ever had...

My first blog - which was not regularly updated. Sad but true and will now be discontinued because I don't want certain people to be reading it.

My first kiss ever - a sweet maddening gentle swirl of sensation fumes in my brain. To this day, I can remember exactly how it felt, how we smelt, how we touched. He is now not in my life, for reasons I shall keep to myself as it's a long story but for some reason, the memory of this kiss is untainted.

My first memory of primary school - a crazy kaleidoscope of people. I still remember how my mother brought me to school late and we sat down at the end of a big open hall, with slate-gray tiles.

My first time getting lost - I was in school for a dance class, but it had been canceled and I didn't know. I decided I would go home by myself. I was 6 or 7. This was also the first time I received the kindness of a stranger.

The first maid we ever had - a sweet thin competent Filipino lady named Elsa. She was around more than my mother and she cooked fantastic fried chicken wings.

The first book I can remember ever having bought for myself with my own pocket money - Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery. I still have that book. I still love it.

I can remember many many more, but then, I'm feeling rather sentimental tonight. So I will now bid a goodnight and go to kiss the bonny boy I love.