lilmissberry's journal

New food and travel blog for 2012!

2012-01-05T11:08:00.001+08:00

To mark the start of the new year, I decided to start a food and travel blog to combine my three great loves. Food, travelling and writing.

willtravelforfoodandlove.wordpress.com

2011-12-22T19:44:00.003+08:00

Dear 2011,

Looking back, you've been one shit-ass year. I hope your sister, 2012 is kinder and loads more cuddly than you've been.

Here's hoping!

Love,

Tokyo, Take Two.

2011-11-14T21:43:00.002+08:00

So last month we went to Tokyo to celebrate Boo's birthday. It was our second time there in as many years, and instead of feeling like we were tiring of it, it only made us want to make Tokyo a part of our annual holiday itinerary.

I'm not sure what exactly it is about the place that we love. We watch endless episodes of Japan Hour, and never tire of marvelling over the food and the sights. And each time we go, we discover yet more to love about the place. Everything from the people, to the food, the magical and enchanting out of the way alleys and shops, their wonderful service and attention to detail, even the familiar chime of the train that heralds our stop at Yotsuya.

I'd really love to spend a year or so working in Japan, travelling around and picking up the language.

I do, I do, I do.

2011-08-29T15:56:00.002+08:00

Today I'm telling myself, let's take this one baby step at a time.

Leave the past behind, and go forth.

What's the worse that could happen?

Get my heart trampled upon again? Or someone to shuffle into the sunset with?

Now if only I can convince my heart to be brave (er). Because you gotta admit, the former's pretty scary.

2011-08-28T12:08:00.002+08:00

So yesterday was Polling Day for the Presidential Elections and I was on duty for a good 14 and a half hours.

Needless to say, I came home beyond pooped out, and whiny. So I did what I always do whenever I'm pooped and whiny, I activated the Boo. He came down to take me for dinner, and then give me a foot squish, hand squish, arm squish and back squish. The works.

The day started at 530am.

And it rained on and off throughout.

I was on wheelchair duty, and it didn't help that the ramp area wasn't sheltered.

I think the most eye-opening part of the day was seeing the many different types of people from all walks of life, who lived within an area I've lived in my whole life.

Most jarring was the two very disparate income groups that reside in the area. I saw an aunty who came in with a plastic bag full of empty cans, that she would then recycle to supplement her income. And on the other end, I saw more Porsches, Mercedes' and BMW's than I could keep count of.

I also saw people I kinda knew at some point or another, but who didn't recognise me because it'd been years - and I couldn't find it within me to say a jolly "hello" and make small talk because it was such a gruelling day. But it did amaze me to think just how many people have came in and out of my life over the years, and I wondered how different life would be if I were still in touch with some of them.

And of those that I assisted with the wheelchair, there were the grumpy old people who complained that they were getting wet, despite us trying to shield them as best as we could with the umbrella, and getting wet ourselves. But there were also the old sweethearts who thanked us profusely for our help.

My favourite part of the day was seeing the many different types of couples who came by.

Especially the old foggies. How they lovingly still held each other's hands, and looked out for each other was too sweet for words.

Or the hubby who begged us to let him drive his car into the compound (we only allowed handicapped drop offs) just so he could pick up his wife, who would otherwise get wet in the rain.

I want that.

Manado | 6-10 August 2011

2011-08-10T21:28:00.020+08:00

Had to write an account of our trip to Manado as soon as I got back, lest the memory starts to fade and I fail to remember the tiny details that made the trip awesome.

Of course by 'as soon as I got back', I mean after having my lemon water, tablespoon of Manuka honey, prune essence, a shower (hello all my deliciously luxe beauty products, I missed you), a face mask and some random trawling of the worldwideweb.

Day 1 - Saturday, 6 Aug

We woke bright and early at 630 with every intention of leaving the house by 7am, which meant that we left closer to half past 7am of course. But we were in no real rush, as I had checked us in online the day before. Got to the airport just before 8am, and found the queue to check our bags in.

It took awhile, so we got trigger happy.

Happy hot pink holiday nails

After dumping our bags, we headed to Maccas for our usual pre-holiday brekkie. We normally eat a whole meal each, but decided to go light and have just a hashbrown (each of course, light but not that light) because for the first time in ages, we were not travelling budget. Which meant free food, drinks and blankets, yay!

Us @ Maccas

Was expecting to hear from Char at some point as we were having our breakfast, but didn't. So decided to go through immigration and go shopping instead. I'm a beauty products junkie, so duty-free shopping is like a tiny slice of heaven. I get drawn to the bright white lights like moths to a light, leave all rational thoughts about money behind and get busy surveying rows after rows of beauty and cosmetic products.

I usually shop till final boarding call, and so was thinking it was odd that by the time I had finished, I still hadn't heard from Char.

Thought that maybe she was already at the boarding gate so that's where we headed. Went through and still no sign of her so I decided to call. Finally got her on the line and the long story short, she wasn't coming.

Decided we'd still have a blast anyway.

And then we were off in a poof.

En-route

Landed, made it through immigration. There was a security guy standing near customs who checked our baggage tags to make sure that we had indeed taken our own bags, and not attempted to steal someone else's luggages. Satisfied with what he saw, he let us pass.

And we were officially in Manado.

Found friendly faces holding up a Cocotinos Resort sign and headed straight for them. Checked our names off a list, told them the Chars weren't coming, got our bags tagged and ushered to the side to wait for the other guests who were on the same flight.

They even offered us chilled bottled water whilst we waited - a far cry from the dodgy, immigrant'ish middle-of-the-night arrival at Dayang, that's for sure.

Manado airport where Boo's new Raybans made a guest appearance

It was indeed a rare appearance. I think he's probably worn these all of 2 times since he got them, and only for about half an hour or so each time. It's like he's afraid of wearing them out or something.

Saw this on the way to the resort.

How many villagers can you fit in/on a truck/pick-up?

Check-in at the resort was again quick and painless. We were taken to the cafe for iced tea and sandwiches, whilst we filled out the forms and got briefed on our respective dive itineraries.

@ the only cafe/restaurant in the resort

Guy in white in the background is James, apparently DM extraordinaire according to my cousin, but unfortunately he was teaching a basic open water course whilst we were there and so wasn't able to come out with us

After filling out the requisite forms, we headed to the room to unpack and roll. Him unpacking, me rolling.

Discovered there was E Entertainment on the telly, and decided it was going to be an awesome holiday.

Our room

The room was clean enough on the surface, and seemed to offer all the requisite amenities. But closer inspection and 4 nights will tell you that there are bed bugs and at least 5 other types of flying insects lurking at every corner. Still, it was a dive resort and at least 8 steps up from Dayang so you really can't complain. Besides, they had E!

After settling in, we took a walk around the resort. Didn't take us more than 15minutes to cover the grounds. It was essentially just pool, cafe, dive centre, jetty and front desk.

View of the village from the jetty

I booked a massage for just before dinner, so with some time to kill, we decided to take a walk around the village with the intention of getting some snacks.

Our resort is located right smack in the middle of a tiny fishing village, with huge padlocked gates. As we were waiting for security to unlock the gates, some of the little village kids ran up to press their faces against the grill. They smiled, said "hello" and followed us on our little walkabout.

We got to the first warang (Bahasa Indonesian for tiny stall, or something to that effect) that was just across from our resort. Discovered that there wasn't actually very much on offer by way of snacks, aside from a small selection of local keropok that looked quite suspect.

The one time we decided not to stock up on snacks, we find that there are none. It was a dramatic moment in my head. How was I going to survive the next few days! But then I decided that perhaps it was a sign from the big guys above that I was pushing 30, and should not be snacking so much. So I decided to take it as a blessing in disguise. It was either that, or spend the next few days scowling at him for not being better prepared.

After the dramatic outburst (in my head), we decided to walk a little further down just to see if we'd find more. The next few warangs we passed all had pretty much the same things on offer, so I resigned myself to 5 days of no snacking.

As I was silently processing this no-snack shocker in my mind at the third warang, he turned to me and said "baby, shall we buy some snacks for the kids?". Completely threw my self-obsessed thoughts off kilter.

I looked around and saw all the little eager faces around us. Of course, these seemingly meagre offerings were nothing to us, but such a treat to them. They got in line as soon as he said he was buying snacks, and happily each picked up a packet from the shopkeeper.

He paid for the snacks with an IDR 50,000 note (it was the smallest we had), and the shopkeeper had to run around to two houses in the village to get him change. She finally gave him the change in wrinkled, damp, notes.

It was nice being able to make them smile, if only for a little while.

Then we headed back to the big gates where it was again shut and padlocked behind us.

I couldn't help but wonder how they felt, looking at the tourists pass through day in and day out. Living a life of relative luxury behind those gilded gates, compared with the dusty streets they were accustomed to.

One of the few pictures I got of the village

Those tiny packets of snacks that brought so much joy to their faces cost us only IDR 1,000 each. Whereas a massage at the resort, just 2minutes away would cost me IDR 350,000.

We were told that at least 60% of the staff hired at the resort were locals from the village, and I wondered if the kids grew up thinking that they would one day like to work at the resort. Or if they ever resented the fact that we had such different lives.

I felt truly humbled by the experience.

We ended the night with a buffet dinner and an E! marathon before going to bed.

View from our room at dusk

Day 2 - Sunday, 7 Aug

We woke bright and early for a quick breakfast, before setting off for our first dive.

Got intercepted by James the DM along the way who asked if we had left our dive equipment in the baskets outside the room. Boo told him not to worry, and that he would carry it over himself later. I told Boo to just give it to the man already. Boo insisted. I was hungry, and James just seemed mild by nature, so neither of us bothered to argue.

Over scrambled eggs, I told him again to just put the stuff in the basket already. The dive centre needed to know what equipment we already had, so they could supplement it with whatever else we didn't.

Of course I was right. He relented and had to carry our stuff over to the dive centre himself. So much for being stubborn. Sometimes I think he just argues for the sake of it. Doesn't get that it disrupts systems that have been put in place for a reason.

After dropping our equipment off, he rejoined me to finish his breakfast.

A girl from the next table came over to introduce herself and asked if we wanted to go to Lembeh the next day. She needed a minimum of four to go.

I smiled right back and said "no thank you, we'll be diving tomorrow.". She gave me an odd look and walked off.

At this point, I noticed him giving me an odd look as well.

I'm pretty sure he didn't have a clue what Lembeh was either, but didn't dare say anything because he was Mr Nat Geo, and therefore, expected to know such things.

Anyway, turns out Lembeh was a dive site. How was I to know. I thought it was one of those trekking trips up some mountain that the resort organised.

Oops.

Made up my mind there and then to file Lembeh reference away for a day when I could rub it in the face of another diving newbie.

Got on the boat.

Felt a little nervous because it was the first time we were going diving without the safety of Fazz and the school. We were like baby birds, stretching our wings solo for the first time in the company of other more seasoned birds.

And because each time we go diving I like to start it off with a little drama, I had to lose my pretty pink mask and snorkel in the deep blue Bunaken sea just before we arrived at our dive site.

I was truly devastated. It was my first mask and snorkel ever. But I comforted myself with the thought that it would drift to shore and get picked up by some young girl in the village, who would now be able to fulfill her dream of growing up to be a divemaster.

Boat guy and the DM gave me a look that said "what are you, an idiot? who dangles their mask out of a moving boat to wash it!?", and then gestured wildly at the box of fresh water sitting innocuously in the corner of the boat.

Yes yes. Next time I will wash my mask there.

I could only look sheepish and hoped that they had a spare.

Our DM, Hengky, very kindly offered me his personal mask. His mask had a tiny tear near the nose area, but it was the best I was going to get. There was only one spare on board. The DMs examined it and decided it was way too dodgy to use. So they made an executive decision to split us into two groups, instead of the original three.

3 girls were going to go with one of the other DMs, and 5 of us were going to go with Hengky.

They were soon to regret this decision.

Everyone suited up and got into the water fairly quickly. But being the newbies that we were, we took a wee bit longer. Even though all our equipment had been set up for us by the boat crew.

All through this, Boo was fussing over me and telling me repeatedly to let him know if my mask leaked at any point.

When we finally made it into the water, Hengky gave us the signal to descend.

I felt uncomfortable going down as water kept seeping in so I refused to go down further. Hengky kept asking if I was ok, expecting me to give him the ok sign back. But I kept giving him big, dramatic 'not ok' signs. Not the dive-approved ones. My regular everyday-use ones. After 3 more tries he gave up and told me to ascend.

I did so, happily.

He signalled to the other DM on board that he had to come into the water to take us two idiots - or rather, just me, the idiot, with my innocent buddy - down.

Anyway, after some mask adjustment, it was all good. The three of us descended and were on our merry way.

I was absolutely astounded at the underwater sights. The marine life was so rich, there were just fishes everywhere. I'm not a fish person, or any sort of a Nat Geo geek, so of course I couldn't tell the difference between the rare ones and the common ones. I just pointed excitedly at everything that looked colourful and pretty. And everything amazed me.

But the one big thing that amazed me the most on that first dive was this hugeass turtle we saw. It was perched on a coral, looking calm as anything. Boo said it was getting cleaned by tiny wrasses. It was so big it must have been at least a hundred years old or something. Was later told by the DM that it was probably about 60. We observed it for a bit, and I even touched it. Very gingerly.

I gestured at Boo to take tonnes of pictures, but he gave me the 'no go' sign. I later realised that the camera screen had cracked from the pressure. Oops. Yet another booboo.

When I got back, I told my dad about the hugeass turtle we saw at 25m. He told me about the hugeass turtle he saw whilst snorkelling in Sipadan at just 2m.

After the drama of the morning, the next two dives of the day passed by fairly smoothly.

Except for a tiny part of the third dive where I almost ascended and broke surface. Both Hengky and Boo panicked. They grabbed me by the flipper and hand respectively, to pull me back down. Think they were worried I would either die of nitrogen narcosis, get run over by a boat, or both.

At the end of our third dive, I happily told Hengky that I wanted to go on a night dive the next day.

He looked a little hesitant. Ok, a lot hesitant.

He was probably thinking in his mind, "this insane girl wants me to take her on a night dive!? she's got to be kidding. first she loses her mask, then she can't descend, then she spoils her camera, then she almost accidentally breaks surface without doing a safety stop, and now she tells me she wants to go on a night dive! And has no torch! Oh my god, she's going to die and I'm going to lose my job."

Then he asked me how many night dives I had done before.

I beamed right back and said none!

Which must have sent yet more shivers up his spine.

He thought about it and asked how many dives I'd done in total.

"Only 11!", I said.

He looked at me again, and then walked away with a non-committal response.

Day 3 - Monday, 8 Aug

Our two morning dives passed by with no drama. By the end of the second dive, Hengky seemed slightly more optimistic about taking me on our night dive. Told us to meet him back at the boat at about 530pm.

Waiting at the jetty for the crew to depart for our night dive

Saw the most gorgeous sunset whilst waiting

With Hengky, our DM who was probably saying a little prayer as the boat departed

The plan was for us to perch by a coral somewhere for about half an hour, in hopes of catching the Mandarin fish mating and then going about to explore the area.

We descended, and we perched. I had serious issues with my buoyancy and the best I could manage was a precarious half-kneel atop some hard corals.

And there we waited, for those elusive Mandarin fish.

Finally caught a glimpse of them. I honestly didn't see what the big fuss was, but played along anyway since there were huge groups of grown men all hovering around, waiting to catch a glimpse of them.

It got increasingly dark, with the only light coming from our torches. Boo decided to hold on to my hand, lest I disappear into the black abyss, never to be heard from again.

Happy to report, we survived.

After our night dive

Day 4 - Tuesday, 9 Aug

Decided to take a break from diving and spent the day just lounging around the resort. It was nice, doing nothing at all.

Day 5 - Wednesday, 10 Aug

Finally, it was time to leave. Kind of bittersweet. On the one hand, I was happy to be going home to clean towels and bedsheets. But on the other, I was sad at leaving this gorgeous island with its wonderful marine life and friendly people.

All I could think about after that was where we would go on our next holiday, and/or our next dive trip.

As we were waiting for transport to take us to the airport, he asked me what my favourite dive experience was so far. I thought about it, and told him it was seeing the hugeass turtle on our first dive.

But as I am writing this now, I think my favourite dive experience - although I'm not sure if it can be called that, rather, my favourite part about diving, if you will - is that the lifestyle makes me go back to basics and appreciate the things that really matter.

It's not just the accommodation which forces me to sleep in places I would never have otherwise slept in, or eat dodgy looking food (often with flies either in and/or around them) served on dodgy plates and eaten with dodgy looking utensils. But also the local crew that we meet. They lead simple lives in the villages, yet seem so oddly happy and contented with their lot in life.

Life I said before, it's truly humbling. And makes me appreciate the many things I've been blessed with.

2011-08-01T23:06:00.004+08:00

Can you really love someone, if that person doesn't have the ability to hurt you?

I think when you really love someone, you open yourself up and make yourself vulnerable to that person.

You put your heart in their hands, and trust that they won't hurt you.

But you never really know.

And that's the point.

It's a leap of faith.

But if you hold back on a part of it, and you've already decided that person can never hurt you. Have you really loved then?

Have you really given your heart away?

Or will you always be holding a part of yourself back.

And when you hold that part of yourself back, you've limited how much love you're willing to give out.

And when you've limited how much love you're willing to give out, it's because you want to remain in control.

And then maybe in turn, because you're in control and are not in a position of vulnerability, you're never really afraid of losing the other person.

And so, you do things that you want to do.

That might hurt the other person, but it doesn't bother you because you believe you're in control.

And because you never really made yourself vulnerable, or gave your heart away, you don't fear getting hurt.

It's a long and roundabout way of getting to the point.

But that's my theory.

And I don't think it's so far from the truth.

2011-07-31T14:47:00.001+08:00

DNS #2

Date: 29 July 2011

Location: Satsuma, Filmgarde (Bridesmaid)

2011-07-31T12:02:00.003+08:00

Maybe it is time to make more of an effort to put the past behind.

As much as the memory hurts, if I don't move past it, it'll only continue hurting me. And gain momentum as it goes, before finally swallowing me up whole.

I can't change what's happened.

Now I just need to keep repeating that till I finally believe it.

Stop. Dwelling. Kim.

Think of now. Think of the future.

Try. Harder.

2011-07-29T17:12:00.001+08:00

Because Friday's gone off to a brilliant start, I foresee a fantabulous weekend ahead.

xoxo,

Me, because I say so.

2011-07-27T21:33:00.002+08:00

Heard a nice song on the radio as I was driving home tonight.

If I Die Young - The Band Perry

Here are my favourite bits from the song.

If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

.....

Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no

.....

The sharp knife of a short life

Well, I've had just enough time

.....

A penny for my thoughts, no I'll sell them for a dollar

They're worth so much more after I'm a goner

And maybe then you'll be hearing the words I been singing

Funny, when you're dead people start listening

Truth be told, I think I'm very much an open book. Anyone who wants to understand need only listen when I speak, not just to the words but at the intention behind the words, and all you'll ever want to know will be there. Or here.

Because words are never just words to me.

I don't know if it's a curse or a blessing to spend so much time mulling and reflecting over everything big and small, but I guess you'd say I'm a by-product of my childhood of books and no toys or games.

I feel nobody really listens 90% of the time, and maybe now that I think about it, that's why I like the idea of dying young. Aside from not having to deal with excessive disappointment.

Because maybe my words will matter when I'm gone.

People need to learn to appreciate the present a little more. Isn't that why it's called the 'present'? Because it's a gift?

2011-07-24T13:32:00.002+08:00

"You need to get MIO tv because there's nothing to do in your room but read", he says.

I suppose it's true. There really isn't a whole lot to do in my room. I have FTA channels - and hey, we've come a long way since just Channel 5 and Channel 8, now there's also CNA, Okto, Channel U, and extremely poor quality Indonesia and Malaysia channels - my computer and lots of books.

But now that I think about it, isn't that most people's rooms?

Not all of us have game systems.

I know he thinks reading also stimulates my already overactive imagination, but what are you going to do? Words are my escape and my solace. They can make a bad day good, and a good day bad. This topic feels kinda familiar. Like I've written about it quite recently.

Anyway, again it feels like the weekend's gone by all too quickly.

I was haunted by dark and twisty thoughts for a good part of it, more so than I have been in the past couple of weeks. Not sure why. Could be hormonal. Or maybe it's my stars. I read in today's papers that something about the alignment makes me particularly emotional and vulnerable. Maybe it's a deadly combination of both. In which case I can only say, I'm glad I survived.

When I talk about it, I'm not really looking for a long-drawn out dissection of what happened. Yes, there are questions that I want answered. But only because once you start poking, it's a little hard to stop - like a moth, drawn to light. So it takes effort and repeated coaxing - however repetitive it may feel - to make it stop.

Time to make the most of what's left of sunday.

2011-07-21T23:07:00.004+08:00

The one thing that I'm slowly learning is that I want to spend my life with a man that I love with all my heart, and who also in turn, loves me with all of his. A man that I can rely on, and entrust my heart and my life with.

A man that is as great a man as my dad is.

Who can hold me up, when I can't. And help me see the other side of the coin, when I can't. Who will hold my hand and support me, whole heartedly and unquestioningly through the dark days, and skip with me through the good days. Who is willing to be kind and patient with me, when my emotions get the better of me. And know that I mean no malice. Who is willing to listen to me, beyond words, and understand my intentions.

Who will put us in a safe bubble, where we can be free to be us. Who wants me and you to be 'us', and have it be 'us against the world'. Someone who will fight for our relationship and me, because I matter. Someone who wants to be my defender and protector in this big bad world.

Someone that is willing to give me his 100% in return for mine, and feel not like he's losing himself, but rather gaining another half.

Someone who'll be there through the big stuff, and also the little stuff like changing the light bulb and setting up my TV.

I want it all.

Not a half fucked version of a boy.

And maybe there's some criteria out there for an ideal girl too.

2011-07-20T21:06:00.003+08:00

I realise in the past few months I've stopped attempting to write titles for my blog entries. I used to make feeble attempts at it, but the truth is I'm not good at headings because I feel like I'm a whole lotta grey - and condensing it all into a few words feels like I'm selling things short.

So because it's not me, I don't bother trying anymore.

And I suppose that's the sentiment of late.

I feel like my life was rudely and horribly intruded upon and torn apart - it's akin to the feeling of having a burglar break into your home and ransack through your things. That complete invasion into your happy place, your sanctuary is awful. It makes you vulnerable. And then angry.

And for awhile it was all I could think about. I wanted to scream, slap and cry. All of the time. Reprieve from these thoughts, if ever, was always shortlived.

Then something else happened. And the penny dropped.

Life feels long when you don't know when the end will come, and so you allow yourself the luxury of dwelling on all the wrong things. I've come to the realisation that in truth, it really isn't all that long. Especially if you've spent it living well and been surrounded by love and all manner of happy, fluffy things.

Shit happens. You can either let it eat you up, or you can pick yourself up and tell yourself (and the world) that you don't have to take this shit. But I believe everything happens for a reason. As much as I've been hurt, I'm sure I've caused hurt to other undeserving people at some point as well. So I accept it all.

I guess the bigger question is, where do you go from here?

I can only say, up. But in (a whole lot of) time.

You learn to be stronger and wiser, just like the cliched quotes tell you.

You realise what you're capable of, and what you're willing or not willing to settle for. But as with all things, it's an ongoing journey till life pulls the plug. So perhaps the story's still unfolding, and you just have to wait and see. Of course it could very well end abruptly with no happy ending, but the reverse could also be true.

I've never been a big believer in the journey. I've always been a Disney sorta girl, and girls like that only love beginnings and endings. Everything else in between is a blur that is often best ignored because you can never get from serendipitous beginning to dreamy ending fast enough.

But now I am. I think.

Yesterday I chanced upon a lovely TVC for KFC.

And I loved it for three reasons.

1\ It featured a loving old couple, and though it didn't show very much of their life as it went back through the years, my imagination filled in the blanks. Of a couple who spent all their years together, happy and in love. Dancing through their years together in their treehole. I believe in sweet sweet love, and I want that.

2\ I loved the soundtrack. I've been listening to it on repeat since yesterday. It puts me in a much more optimistic and dreamy mood, than Fall For You did. It makes me dream of a happier time, of a life that would be wonderful just because we're together.

3\ It reminds me of my passion for advertising. I know I've crossed over to the other side, but as much as I used to rant about hating the industry, I've always known deep down that it's where I'll go back to one day - hopefully overseas. I truly believe that great campaigns can change people's lives. Feed their hopes, dreams and aspirations. Because that's exactly the impact that this TVC has had on me.

Life's not back on track yet. I'm not sure it ever will. But I think I see a new path starting to take shape.

I can't say I'm glad that all of this happened - I truly wish none of it did. But I'm trying to see the bright side of this upheaval. Everything from us to what's happening at home. And I guess the one good thing that's come out of it is that I feel like it's made me want to live a better life.

2011-07-03T21:37:00.002+08:00

As always the weekend went by in a flash, and the start of a new week is just around the corner.

This weekend we spent loads of quality time together, and slowly I feel my heart becoming whole again.

Of course there were moments where memories and thoughts hijacked my mind, and flooded it with imageries I wish were just an outcome of an overactive imagination (unfortunately they're all too real and are a part of my reality now), but for the most part, it was good.

I guess it felt like we were line dancing to a two-step chacha. One step forward, two steps back. Two steps forward, one step back.

I hope in time to come we'll be taking three steps forward, and only one tiny step back; but as with all good things, I suppose it'll take time and patience.

Admittedly at times I look at you and wonder if I can really accept all that you've done, and trust that you'll never do it again. But I never say it out loud, because I'm afraid of planting seeds of doubt in our already fragile relationship - one that's still vulnerable whilst the bubble's being rebuilt. I suppose you'd call that the two steps back.

The other thing that seizes me with fear is the thought of resuming my usual weekly mahjong sessions. I was supposed to do that on Friday, but backed out at the last minute because I didn't want to spend my Friday night wondering what you were up to, and going all paranoid psycho girlfriend. I think about next week, and the same fear floods my heart again. I know I can't hold on this way forever, but for now, I just don't dare to take plunge and trust that I won't tear my mind to pieces and spend the night mindfucking myself.

But conversely, in the moments of two steps forward we took this weekend, I felt happiness and love like we used to. Laughing at silly things, talking and cuddling. I also felt loved when you took me for my run, then fed me, made sure I was well hydrated, washed up my stuff and tucked me in bed for a nap post run; before we went to see baby Alex.

I think I'd say the good outweighed the bad this weekend.

2011-07-01T12:28:00.002+08:00

I've always been moved by music, and at almost every significant moment in my life there has been an accompanying soundtrack.

Right now it's Fall For You.

And I can't repeat that enough.

"This is not what I intended, I always swore to you I'd never fall apart.

You always thought that I was stronger,
I may have failed but I have loved you from the start."

I guess you could say I'm emotional like that.

I think the reason I always latch on to a song of the moment is not because I'm trying to express the way I feel. But because I feel the song represents how I hope the other person feels/will feel about me, without me having to spell it out explicitly.

I love words, they mean a lot to me. And I look for hidden depths and meaning in all of it.

It's what compels me to listen to a song over and again to fully grasp the significance of its lyrics, to prefer books over movies, and to love receiving the written word whether it's by hand, email, a text or otherwise.

I love being on the receiving end of words because it means someone's taken the time to craft a message just for me. So it has to mean something. As opposed to nothing.

I spent some time reading my past entries a couple of weeks back. It's something I've never felt inclined to do in the past because I don't like reading my writing. It makes me cringe and feel slightly vulnerable.

But I forced myself to.

And going through them I could genuinely feel the happiness of each word I put down.

Writing used to be an outlet for me when I was feeling down or had something happy to share. And though I'm updating a lot these days, I'm never really sure how much or even what I want to say. Because spelling it out makes it too real. So instead, I settle for logging on and filling this page with abstract bits of random thoughts.

I don't feel I'm writing from the heart - whether it's happy, or otherwise. And that there's no soul to these words.

For now anyway.

Fall For You - Secondhand Seranade

2011-06-30T17:48:00.002+08:00

The best thing about tonight's that we're not fighting
Could it be that we have been this way before
I know you don't think that I am trying
I know you're wearing thin down to the core

But hold your breathe
Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you
Over again, don't make me change my mind
Or I wont live to see another day
I swear it's true
Because a girl like you is impossible to find
You're impossible to find

This is not what I intended
I always swore to you I'd never fall apart
You always thought that I was stronger
I may have failed, but I have loved you from the start

But hold your breathe
Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you
Over again
Don't make me change my mind
Or I wont live to see another day
I swear it's true
Because a girl like you is impossible to find
It's impossible

So breathe in so deep
Breathe me in
I'm yours to keep
And hold onto your words
Cos' talk is cheap
And remember me tonight
When you're asleep

Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you
Over again
Don't make me change my mind
Or I wont live to see another day
I swear it's true
Because a girl like you is impossible to find
Tonight will be the night that I will fall for you
Over again
Don't make me change my mind
Or I wont live to see another day
I swear it's true
Because a girl like you is impossible to find
You're impossible to find

2011-06-29T11:38:00.003+08:00

When I get these sick stirrings in my belly, and the paranoia sets in - I wonder what exactly it is I'm looking for.

Why am I going in search of things I know will inevitably hurt me?

If I discover something, my heart will sink.

And if I don't, then I'll be torn between wondering if you've gotten better at hiding, or if you're really telling the truth.

I'm tired of feeling this way.

Of being hijakced by paranoia and heartache throughout the day, especially when I least expect it.

I'm trying to tell myself to set these feelings aside, because if you're intent on lying, you will.

And there's not a thing I can do about it. But that's certainly easier said than done.

Maybe fundamentally what I'm most afraid of, is of my reality being a facade.

Because what this all boils down to, is whether the life I'm living is real or not. Whether the things I believe in are real, or not.

And I'm afraid of that reality being shattered. I'm afraid of being happy in case it isn't real. I'm afraid of hoping and dreaming, in case it isn't real.

I don't want to be that girl that people pity and laugh at behind her back.

I never even knew I was that girl. Till now.

I want control of my life back.

I want my choices in my life back.

I want to have a say in whether I can or cannot accept things that affect my life. Because it's only a relationship between two parties, if both of you get a choice in picking out the path you take.

So please mind and heart, for my sake, stop wondering.

2011-06-28T19:14:00.003+08:00

Have you felt like you were baring your heart to a stuffed toy?

Like you're not being heard.

Like your intentions and feelings don't matter.

Like no one's listening.

2011-06-27T12:40:00.002+08:00

Fall For You by Secondhand Seranade popped up on my iTunes yesterday.

I don't know how or why I have the song, but I felt like it really connected with me and for once, I felt a glimmer of hope again.

Like everything's not so bleak.

It's true nothing's the same, and the path to happily ever after isn't quite what I'd thought it'd be. It's a lot less Disney, and a lot more Grimm Brothers, but I accept that's what my life is now because everything happens for a reason.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that where once, I thought hope only showed itself in the form of unicorns and rainbows (which I now know are fictitious, unless you show me otherwise), I'm accepting now that it can also manifest in other ways.

And for me, that's the hope this song brings.

It's not a Disney rendition of fireworks and magic dust, but it represents to me hope in that I want to find a guy who feels this way about me.

That he wants to fight for me. Because I matter.

And so I make this my anthem of the moment.

2011-06-25T14:37:00.001+08:00

"But when I'm way up here, it's crystal clear, that now I'm in a whole new world with you."

2011-06-25T09:24:00.002+08:00

"How blue can I get, you could ask my heart. But like a jigsaw puzzle it's been torn all apart."

Saturday, 25 June.

One month and three days.

Still picking up the pieces.

2011-06-16T22:07:00.001+08:00

"some day when my crying's done, I'm gonna wear a smile and walk in the sun"

Deeper, longer, smoother

2011-06-13T22:09:00.002+08:00

After a weekend of roughing it in Dayang, we're now certified Advanced PADI divers!

And yes, we can now go deeper, for longer, and enjoy a smoother ride down to the bottom of the deep blue sea.

Pre trip

It was a mad rush to get all our gear in order. Picking up our booties, buying our flippers (yes, I'm a dolphin), digging out our goggles and tube thingy (so much more fun sounding than mask and snorkel don't you think?), pulling out the wetsuits from my cousin which I had stashed all the way to the back of my closet in a black rubbish bag, and all the other miscellaneous things like food and sea bands (best invention, ever!).

Friday

Lugged all our gear to work. Bag was getting a little heavy so I decided to offload some of it into my tummy - namely two packets of cheese crackers. I'm sure it made a difference.

After work, we met at the Hans just on the corner of South Bridge road for a quick dinner of cheese omelette and some last minute studying before hauling ass over to Hong Kong street to catch the bus to Mersing.

Put on my sea bands and didn't feel queasy at all.

The queue at customs was kinda insane, and we finally made it to Mersing just after midnight.

Hopped onto a boat that was dark, dingy and already had people curled up in the few bunk beds that were available. We had to crawl through two boats to get to ours, and it all felt very covert and illegal immigrants-ish.

We made do with some seats up the front and tried to go to sleep.

Saturday

Arrived at Dayang at about 5am. Was told that we were bunking with the crew and that we would have no aircon - thanks a lot Boo! The two mosquito bites on my leg thank you too. The only upside of that arrangement was that we had an ensuite bathroom - but let's just say calling the place a resort is a stretch. No aircon, no hot water, no towels, no blankets. Need I say more?

Managed to sleep for a couple of hours before we had to wake for our first dive of the day.

My only thoughts as we were suitting up in the boat was, "please let this be over soon".

The day passed slowly, and I got incredibly sea sick after the third dive of the day. Threw up in the water as the OWD students were surfacing. Thank god for them they barely missed my lunch of chilli, rice and watermelon.

The boat took us back to the resort for a quick change of tanks and a short break before it was time for the night dive.

By this time, I was feeling well and truly sick. And was thinking that I never wanted to dive again. I just wasn't built for the water!

He was great through it all though. Fussing over me, and taking care of all heavy lifting whilst I perched daintily by the tiny ledge on the side of the boat trying to "look far".

Decided that I just could not brave the night dive, so he went off with the rest of the group whilst I stayed back to shower and hang by the jetty waiting for him to come back.

I sat there like a sailor's wife, peering out longingly at the sea. Getting up each time I saw a boat pull up, wandering if he was going to be back safe.

Finally, they came back and we trooped off to dinner on the beach. It sounds a lot more chichi than it is. In truth, it was a whole lot of suspect-looking food, served on plates that looked like they needed a wash. But I suppose some of it didn't taste too bad.

Sunday

Had to wake at 5am for our first dive of the day. It was a deep dive, and we were going in from the shore. I honestly believed that I was going to die out there, and was imagining all sorts of scenarios in my mind of becoming fish food because I hadn't eaten dumplings this year.

But I actually quite enjoyed it! And I think I was also starting to get the hang of the breathing thing, because I no longer used up air as quickly as I used to when we first started.

After our first dive, we had two more leisure dives which were just as much fun.

After the second dive of the day I was feeling great, and so decided to make a guest appearance by the tanks to do my own changing (of the tanks). I think he nearly fell over when he saw me removing the BCD. By this time, he had gotten quite accustomed to doing it all for me. And generally going round the boat helping everyone else with theirs. Adjusting their tanks, tightening it for them, helping them into the water, turning on their oxygen for them.

I'm proud of him for helping out, but like I said, you can't be there doing everything for everyone. You need to teach them to fish so they can learn to feed themselves! It's different for me because you'll always be there when I dive. So it's ok if you do it for me. But you won't always be there when other people need help. Nonetheless, he did well. I think he (not so) secretly wants to be a divemaster.

Ended our final dive in high spirits, and decided that I was really getting into this diving thing - all leisure dives from here on out! And I'm glad our next dive's going to be a semi-chichi one in a proper resort with a spa and all! It's no Maldives Four Seasons, but it's a hell of a long way from our budget diving that's for sure!

The journey back to Singapore was long, but we got to stop at Mersing again for about half an hour. He bought me ramlee burger and a bottle of water from a roadside stall and called it a date. I guess it was kinda sweet, in a quaint way, and was a nice way to wrap up the weekend.

I choose to disregard everything that happened after - including the mini fight on the bus, the long wait at customs, and the taxi that never showed.

2011-06-07T23:12:00.002+08:00

Listening to random songs on my playlist - haven't done that in awhile - and Blessid Union of Souls came up. Such a throw back to the past.

It makes me miss a yesterday when I didn't feel quite this way.

I can't put my finger on it, I just know it's poo and I want it to go away.

2011-05-29T13:08:00.000+08:00

Haven't been eating or sleeping well.

Please. Let. This. Pass.

Soon.

A new beginning

2011-05-23T23:49:00.003+08:00

It's not a re-write, and we're not wiping the slate clean. We're just opening up a new chapter, wiser from the experiences of the chapters before.

Trying isn't going to be easy, but from the conversation we had earlier, I think the elements are hinting of good times ahead.

Better even, than the good times we had before.

All at once, my world feels complete again. And sappy love songs are just that, not tear-inducing and wallow-encouraging.

What a whirlwind the past 36hours have been.

I can't wait to get to know us all over again.

And this time, you get more than plates and utensils.

(Warning: Don't take this as free rein and try to poke your nose into everything too quickly. I might get territorial and bite, but be patient. I'll try.)

2011-05-23T11:25:00.003+08:00

"You can take the girl out of Disneyland, but you can't take the Disney out of her."

Alright, so maybe no one famous said that, and therefore it can't be a quote.

But I'm making up the rules today.

A lot happened in the span of a day.

And I felt my heart break into a million pieces like it never did before.

Above all, I was sad that the life I had imagined was perhaps never to be, and I grieved for it. I also grieved for the memories, the happy times, and the ghost chairs that might never be.

I've always thought I was a fairly intuitive person.

So never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that you would have been so grossly unhappy, and for such a long spell at that, without any realisation on my part.

I didn't realise the lies stemmed from unhappiness. But in retrospect, I guess I should have. Though when I confronted you about the lies, you never said more than it being just easier and that you were just doing a guy thing. A stupid, cliched guy thing.

Was my interpretation of the happy times, solely mine? A figment of my imagination? I refuse to believe that's true, but the words that come out of your mouth and your actions tell me otherwise.

I don't believe in breaks, but I tried to give you the space you need. I really tried, but pride got pursued by heartache, and decided to bail on me.

So we spoke. For a long time.

But what struck me was that it didn't feel so different from the conversations we had on any regular day. Except this time, tears were constantly threatening to flow forth.

It is beyond me how your endless quest for life and excitement with acquaintances and colleagues can be so easily prioritised ahead of anything we share. And it saddens me to realise how much a line of distinction you also choose to draw between the two.

But still, that's who you are. You treasure life and excitement above all. And as much as I'd like to think I've become important to you, I guess it's all relative.

I couldn't sleep, so I was just reading random blogs when I came across this one of a girl who just got married last week. She put up pictures and videos of their happy day. And what struck me was that they looked genuinely happy to be there, the both of them, and that the day genuinely looked like it had been planned by the both of them.

Maybe I've been selfish because I want to control every detail of the day. I see now that a union takes two to clap, and two to create three.

I don't want to stifle you, and nor do I want you to be just a participant on what really should be a life of two.

And as much as I love my happily ever afters, I know it means nothing if only one of you truly wants it.

I won't force your hand, and I know I can't anyway. But I just thought you should know.

We said we'd compromise, and that we'd try.

But for the second time, the thing that scares me is that we wouldn't be here, if I didn't insist we spoke.

I'm not sure if I did the right thing or not, insisting that we spoke and work things out because I guess the knowledge that you've wanted a break twice in the span of year, tells me that perhaps I'll never be able to find a place in your life. And each time you say it out loud, each time you burst the bubble, it becomes more real. A real resounding echo of the you inside that just wants to break free and be rid of these strings.

That as much as you say you love me, it's all relative to the thousand and one other pursuits you still want out of life.

I've never had pride bail on me the way it did last night. But I believe some things are worth fighting for. And so I tried.

But slowly also, I'm understanding that sometimes the white flag must be raised.

That there sometimes comes a tipping point where you can't go back from it all.

I believe that time wasn't yesterday. But I also know that it's all or nothing now, and that scares me. Truly. I don't know if I could go through again, the heartache but tenfold.

I don't want to get jaded by love.

I still want my Disney ending. But I suppose that's the risk you take.

I'm saying this all now with unbridled honesty, because it's the only foundation strong enough to support a life of two. I asked the same of you, as I have many times before. But I hope you hear me this time around because we're on a see-saw, and it's about to tip over if you don't get on the other side to keep it balanced.

Maybe I shouldn't be spilling my guts out this way, and truthfully, I never normally would. But what have I got to lose anyway. Except my heart, all over again.

Like I said, it's our last fight.

ps: I hate the way this sounds. All of it. So morbid and unlike me.

Attempting home-made pasta

2011-04-04T21:22:00.003+08:00

Ever since I got hooked on Junior Masterchef Australia - aside from making me miss Melbourne heaps - it's made me look at food in a whole new light.

Or rather I should say, it's made me look at food with a whole new level of appreciation.

And that's saying a lot, and a lot, and a lot, given how much I already love my food.

The kids on Junior Masterchef are amazingly talented. They're only wee (8-12), and are all incredible cooks. What I admire is how they never say no, or get defeated. They're always willing to try. They gamely try anything new, even if it urks them, and whip up gorgeous dishes of things they've never had.

They've definitely inspired me, not just with food, but on my general outlook of life. Starting with food, of course.

Last Friday I decided to attempt one of the recipes from Sophia (age 12, from Queensland).

A homemade ravioli with prawn mousse, and a tomato vierge sauce.

I've never made pasta in my life, but I figured, how hard could it be! Especially when the recipe only called for eggs, olive oil and flour.

I didn't have a pasta roller, but I had boo and a rolling pin.

And so we got to it.

He was all eager beaver about getting his hands in the 'fun stuff', and didn't want to do the 'boring stuff' like chop garlic. So I let him.

My theory is that he made a mess of it with his lousy squishing technique, which is how we ended up with too-tough pasta - but still yummy, for a first attempt.

After the squishing, we set up a factory line between the two of us.

He to roll and cut with a little sauce dish, and me to fill it with the prawn mousse.

It didn't take us long to realise how hard it was to roll the dough out nice and thin with a rolling pin.

So we started with one vaguely wanton (as in dumpling, not slutty) looking ravioli, which then evolved into ravioli of all shapes and sizes because we got lazy with cutting it nice and equal. We even had some wee ones from the scraps of dough and christened them wavioli - as in wee ravioli.

We got to about 18 pieces and I decided that was enough.

I dunked them in some boiling salted water, drizzled the vierge sauce over it and tada. Dinner!

I have a theory that all recipes lie, or at least omit certain truths and I'm on a quest to prove it.

Recipes should be written without the assumption that you 'get it'. There's no reason amateur cooks like myself should be excluded just because someone decided to cut a few corners in typing out the recipe. Perhaps the addition of certain information made the line breaks look ugly, or wouldn't fit neatly on the page. Whatever the case, I'd like to put together a dummy-proof recipe, with instructions like they should be.

Yup.

Shin Kushi-yucks

2011-03-10T17:51:00.002+08:00

We've been having a month-long craving for kushiyaki since our very yummy Valentine's meal at Satsuma.

So a couple of nights back, we decided to try out some of the other famous kushiyaki places.

There were a few contenders - Shin Kushiya, Joo Joo, and of course, going back to Satsuma.

We decided that Joo Joo can't be all that good since it's all young and fun sounding, plus it doesn't even have a vaguely Japanese name. We contemplated going back to Satsuma, but Shin Kushiya won out because I read a review on it recently on a blog I stumbled upon - it made it sound like skewer heaven - and I tend to like to try out new places.

So off to Shin Kushiya we went.

I took pictures, but it's not even worth the effort uploading them because the simple conclusion is that the food was mediocre at best and overpriced.

Plus they don't serve chicken hearts, which according to Colin, is the mark of a good kushiyaki place.

Next time, it's back to Satsuma we go.

Certified Divers

2011-03-07T20:32:00.002+08:00

Last weekend - not the one that's just gone by, the one before that - we went to Bintan for our Open Water course.

I'd like to say it all went well and I loved every second of it, but that's the version I smile and dish out to acquaintances. People I don't want to spend more than 2 minutes of my time story-telling to, because the full story is just too exhausting. There are dramatic hand gestures, lots of eyebrow-raising, and even a point where my voice gets all high and squeaky - even more so than it usually is. So you can see how the full monty can take its toll.

But I thought it best to capture the whole experience in truth, for posterity's sake. Not that I know what the word 'posterity' means, but I have a very fluid relationship with words and sometimes, I just know when things sound right.

Kind like with 'assasinator' - people who kill other people, and 'drawer' - someone who draws.

(I do know those aren't real words by the way)

Anyways, I'll start at the top.

The entire PADI Open Water Dive Course consists of three components:

(i) Pool session

(ii) 2 x theory classes and an exam

(iii) 4 x dives in the deep blue sea

THE POOL SESSION

We did the pool session one hot sunday at Outram Secondary School. It was the dirtiest pool I've ever been in, and I might or might not have peed in it - to be fair, I was wearing a LOT of equipment. So no judgement. Besides, I know for a fact I'm not the first, and nor will I be the last.

Seriously, dirtiest pool ever. When you go underwater with your mask, everything's magnified tenfold and you can see the dirt, algae and snot floating around.

But that is the one and only pool where all the dive schools hold their confined water session, so at least you can be safe in the knowledge that the travelling gunk will never make its way to your friendly neighbourhood swimming complex.

I felt gross even before we stepped into the pool because the rental equipment, well, lets just say they're a great marketing tool to entice newbies to buy their own gear. I found flies, algae and dried up salt caked into the rubber rims of my mask. That's how icky it was. The only consolation was the regulator, which was actually surprisingly clean.

After the pool session, my ear itched for days and I was convinced it was because of the dirty pool water. Had to be.

THEORY 1

After surviving the pool session, it was time for the classroom stuff.

First day of class, there were only three people. "Great!" I thought, we'll be able to finish early and go home to sleep. It was after all a work day.

I was sorely mistaken.

We seemed to have ended up in the same class as the dumbest guy on earth. Alright, that sounded mean. And I probably said it just for dramatic effect, but it doesn't sound half as funny if I said it some other way.

I can forgive dumb. But dumb and lazy just takes the cake.

Not only did he NOT pre-read his reading material, he seemed to have the comprehension skills of a gnat. And since the class can only progress as fast as it's slowest member, we were crawling. Didn't help that Colin and I were super competitive know-it-alls, the type who raises their hand enthusiastically in response to every question going "oOh ooh ooh, I know, pick me!". And I mean literally, it didn't help. The instructor still wanted to make sure Mr Slow Pants in the back was catching up.

After class on the first day, we did a bit of shopping. It started out with just wanting a pretty pink mask, and ended up with me going home with a pretty pink mask and a pretty pink snorkel.

I have to say, my instructor gave me a super good deal on the two and I'm a true blue shopaholic at heart, which means I recognise a good deal when I see one. I nudged and urged Colin to get a mask and a snorkel too. But of course he had to go home and 'research' first - he's that kind of shopper, the one who always lets great deals and awesome things slide past because he needs time to think.

It's not a bad trait, and something I could use more of really - I'm Miss Instant Gratification, "now now now!!!" - but I think I'm getting better, and sometimes, when there's a good deal, you just got to DO IT NOW.

So anyways, he dawdled, and unfortunately when we went back the next day, it was a different guy at the shop. He still got a discount, but not at the awesome low levels that I did. Oh well.

I contemplated getting also booties, fins and a wet suit - all in a pretty shade of pink of course. But this is the part where his "let's wait and see" got to me. You'll see how this almost kills me later on.

THEORY 2

Back to class again. You would think after his dawdling on Day 1 that Mr Slow Pants would kick it up a notch, maybe do some reading before coming to class so he wouldn't continue to lag behind.

But no.

He did not.

We crawled through the remaining two chapters at a snail's pace before the final exam. Poo. After handing out the exam papers, our instructor told us we could complete this at our own pace and just holler when we were done.

I was done within half an hour. I don't like dawdling over exam questions. They give me the heebie jeebies. I just like to zip through them and be done. Of course, this attitude has more than once, cost me some careless mistakes. But I can't help it (actually no, of course I can help it, I just can't be bothered).

Anyway, I finished up and bounced out of the room to hand my paper to the instructor.

96% - yay! One careless mistake, and one which I happily accepted because it asked me for the difference between a DIN and YOKE valve - an entire section which I skipped past because I hate memorising differences between things. If they're differences I can understand and comprehend, sure. But the type that requires memorising? Not for me. These grey cells are reserved solely to memorise grudges against my boo and the latest Hollywood celeb gossip.

Anyway, shortly after I finished, Colin finished too.

Yay!

"Now we can go home!" Or so I thought.

Turns out, our instructor wanted us all to finish the paper - by all he means us THREE (2 down, 1 to go) - so we can run through the ones we got wrong.

Colin got 98%.

Which means that between the two of us, there were only 3 questions we had to go through.

We waited another 45 MINUTES for Mr Slow Pants to finally finish his paper.

And even then, he failed!

So first we had to wait for him to finish, and then go through ALL the questions he got wrong before we finally got to leave.

It was a painful wait. I spent most of it Whatsapp'ing the girls and playing Burger Queen.

BINTAN - DAY 1

We convened bright and early at the Tanah Merah Ferry Terminal to catch the Ferry to Bintan.

It was an alright 50minute ride - I slept through most of it.

But then started my horrid 48hour motion sickness extravangaza.

It was a bumpy, torturous hour-long bus ride to the resort. It was neither picturesque nor rustic. I was just grumpy and having a headache. So I decided to spend most of the ride stuffing my face with fish strips, dropping crumbs all over my jacket and looking out the window at vague things on the horizon.

Finally, we arrived. The resort was quite bare and rundown, but at least it had all the essentials like hot water and a clean bed.

After checking in, we were told we had 20minutes to rest before lunch.

I collapsed onto the bed whilst he spent a lot of time fussing around the room, and unpacking everything.

Lunch was Nasi Goreng with a fried egg, and the driest looking chicken wing I've ever seen. I don't like meat on bone, so I swapped him my unedible chicken wing for his egg. Clearly I was getting the better deal, but I flashed him one of my too-cute-for-school smiles to pull the wool over his head. Or maybe he knew, and gave it to me anyway out of love. Either way, I got the egg.

After lunch, it was time to check in at the deep blue sea.

Urks!

I gulped down a sea sickness pill and prayed to god I wouldn't die at sea.

We took an old chugchug boat out to a floating platform - where we remained for the better part of the day. I hate moving-anythings, and a floating platform is the worst kind. Solid ground, but not really.

Luckily, we were the first group to go down.

We saw nothing. Just bubbles and swirls of dirty water. But even that dirty water was cleaner than the water at Outram. Or maybe it's just because the salt water is a natural antiseptic.

When we surfaced after the first dive, I had a cut on my hand which was bleeding out. I don't know how it happened, but it didn't hurt till someone pointed it out - at which point I shoved it in Colin's face and put on my saddest look.

Truth be told it didn't hurt, but I milked it for all it was worth. Using it as an excuse to get out of changing my tank and keeping my equipment - I was on a floating platform!!! If I moved to do all that, I would have hurled all over the equipment and everyone would have hated me. It was just better that I didn't get near them.

We did a second dive, and then it was time to chug back to the resort.

Yay, dinner!

It was absolutely awesome.

They had the best sambal belacan ever! Loved all the dishes.

Went for a Thai massage on the beach after dinner. Was seranaded by a Thai and a Malaysian dude who were taking turns massacring the free karaoke machine - I think at some point they even did a duet. And in between the karaoke, there were shots of fireworks. It was kind of nice actually.

When you stay in fancier resorts, people seldom leave their rooms to do communal type things. But when you stay in a budget resort, you have no choice but to want to leave your room.

We took a slow walk back after my massage, and stopped by the cafe for a glass of ice milo - for him - before going back to sleep.

BINTAN - DAY 2

Woke up bright and early. Had a huge breakfast, before we chugged out to the platform again.

Our first dive of the day was spent practising yet more skills. We also swam around for a bit, and I saw a sea urchin!

Our second dive of the day is when it all gets dramatic.

A boat chugged us away from the platform to another dive site. It was quite dramatic for us because up till then, we had been diving off the platform. So this was our first time diving off a boat - we went in backwards, which I thought I would have hated, but actually turned out to be alright.

As soon as we got in the water I knew it was going to be bad.

The waves were horrid and just swishing me all over the place.

I felt so helpless. But I held on to the side of the boat and waited for everyone to get in.

It only got worse.

The waves kept on coming, taking us further and further away from the boat.

I thought it would get better when we descended, because you don't tend to feel the surge as much when you're 6 feet under - literally, no pun intended.

But we never got to go down. Our fins were grazing corals that were barely 2 metres beneath us, and before we knew it, were all knee deep in the middle of nowhere, with the waves continuing to push us over.

Didn't help that the equipment was really heavy.

I started getting pushed over by the waves every two steps and ended up with coral cuts on my hands and legs.

It wasn't pleasant.

That's when I realised we were kinda in a shitty situation.

Thankfully our dive master was a sea of calm. He immediately took charge of the situation, and told us all what to do - he really was awesome. He told me to take off my equipment and just concentrate on walking. He held my hand in one so I wouldn't fall, and my equipment in another, no easy feat!

You think it doesn't sound very hard, but try walking in fins, over corals, with waves pushing you over. That's no easy feat.

Luckily for me, and him, I was the only girl in the group, so the rest of the guys could all manage with carrying their equipment.

At that point, I wish I had bought that pretty pink full-body wet suit so I wouldn't have all those coral cuts on my knees. And the gloves. And booties, so I could take off the fins and walk properly. !!

After close to 45minutes of walking, we finally made it to a side where it was deep enough for us to swim. The waves were still horrid. But the amazing boat guy jumped into the water with just a mask and swam towards me. He told me to lie on my tank, and dragged me all the way back to the boat - all the whilst, swimming against the huge currents.

When we got back to dry land, we wanted to give him a big tip because he really risked his life jumping in to tow us all back.

But we were told the standard from everyone in the group was only 5SGD, and that if we wanted to give anything extra, we should give it to him personally. Sadly, he had already gone back by then, so we weren't able to thank him properly.

So that rounded off our Open Water course.

Wanted to upload pictures, but it's getting late and I need to shower.

Next up, Dayang!

And hopefully this time we see some proper deep blue aquatic life. The pretty kind.

2011-01-31T22:36:00.003+08:00

After work today I walked to the bus stop and waited for a bus.

I got on the bus, and then I got off the bus. And then I got on another bus, which took me home.

I got home, made myself some pasta and a simple salad.

Ate my pasta and simple salad whilst reading an old copy of Archie.

Decided I was still hungry, went downstairs and had more pasta.

Feeling filled up, I took my bowls downstairs and then decided to go down to Cold Storage to buy yet more cleaning products to disinfect my desk at work. The citrus Dettol spray I bought yesterday smells horridly like a toilet - and instead of making me feel clean and sanitised, just made me feel kinda grubby, like I was in a wet, dirty toilet by the beach.

So today I went in search of Dettol - the original solution. Because at least THAT, is a sanitised smell. I also bought a squigy bottle (it's really an empty spray bottle, but the word squigy just sounds much better) to contain my Dettol and water solution, that I could bring to the office.

And I bought a bottle scrub. And a glass for the bottle scrub to sit in on my desk.

Tomorrow I will go to work and Dettol my work station. Then I will bring the horrid smelling citrus Dettol spray home so that it can be used for what it smells most appropriate - cleaning our home toilets.

But I digress. The point I wanted to make, aside from the fact that I seem to be becoming a little compulsive with cleanliness, is that on the way to the supermarket, Mikey and I sang along to Glee. Well, I sang, and he kinda just whimpered and moved around a lot in the passenger seat.

It was a happy and carefree kind of feeling, one that I haven't felt in awhile.

I felt neither exhausted nor drained.

I didn't finish work on the dot at six.

But still, I was happier because there were no unpleasant situations I had to deal with. No ego's and tantrums to speak of.

And honestly, that makes a world of difference.

N.O.T Shopping

2011-01-30T17:42:00.002+08:00

I've been very good over the past few weeks about not shopping.

Of course I still spend lots of time putting myself in temptation's path - insisting on going into shops and trying on things, browsing blogshops endlessly, even going so far as to stand in line at the check-out counter (or add items to my shopping cart, for blogshops) - but so far, I've always managed to back out at the last minute.

I don't know why I go through the entire process above if I'm trying hard not to shop. I really should be doing more productive things like eating or sleeping. But I can't help it.

I suppose I just find it therapeutic. And it helps to curb the urges, somewhat.

But I was just reading randomly blogs earlier when I chanced upon this one of a girl who took a picture of a HUGEASS wasp nest that was growing around her bracelets in one of her accessories containers.

GROSS.

I suppose that's the result of having too much stuff. Too much stuff that you don't end up using.

And I certainly have more than enough.

Clothes and accessories that is.

So no shopping.

And on a separate but related note, the older I get, the more particular I get about cleanliness.

Dust and grime sends shivers up my spine.

So in my future home, I want no odd/unused corners. I want everything to be wide open and fully visible, so it's constantly used. Besides, I feel unused/seldom accessed corners gives bad vibes to a home.

Like my storeroom at home now. I feel like I have to tiptoe in and out really really quickly whenever I want to get something. I never linger more than absolutely necessary because it feels gross just being in there.

Urks.

My new office is unfortunately quite the epitome of old and grubby office furniture. Shall go get myself some dettol and wipes to keep at my desk so I can give it daily wipedowns.

Fireworks by the bay

2011-01-01T22:04:00.002+08:00

We ushered in 2011 with a run down to the waterfront to watch the fireworks.

We contemplated driving down with a picnic basket, thinking in our minds that it would be empty the way it normally is.

Thank goodness for the very-loudly-ticking biological clock (hello, 27! - definitely late 20s now), which told me we should get off our asses and stop pigging out.

As soon as we turned into the Tanjong Rhu stretch, we knew we made a good decision to run down because there were cars backed up for miles and miles. I suppose they all had the same brilliant idea of watching the fireworks from down this way.

We found a spot at about 11.33, and settled in to wait for the midnight fluorescent shower. It was gorgeous. I love fireworks.

There were too many people to run home after, so we took a slow walk back.

Ended the (late) night with a dinner of pasta, salad and grapes.

NYE

2010-12-31T10:29:00.002+08:00

I only got about 6 hours of sleep before I was rudely awakened by some horrid banging from downstairs.

Of course, my mom decided today was a good day (no, make that morning) to get some new doors for the house.

I tried going back to sleep, but couldn't. So here I am at bright as a tomato at 1030am on new year's eve.

I suppose it's not all bad because the sun's shining beautifully today.

I just hope it holds up for the rest of the day.

I can't believe this time tomorrow it's going to be 2011.

Homemade Pesto

2010-12-28T19:17:00.004+08:00

That's right.

I chopped, blended and pounded my way to homemade pesto today because Boo likes pesto.

Admittedly, it doesn't quite taste or look like the fancy salad bar variety you pay good money for, but it's homemade with TLC.

And to be on the safe side (i.e. to make sure that he doesn't have to pretend to like it, whilst wanting to hurl), I added lots of greens, cherry tomatoes and mozzarella bits to dress it up.

The end of the year

2010-12-27T20:59:00.006+08:00

I can't believe how quickly 2010 has gone by.

In retrospect, I'm grateful it's been a good one.

I feel I've learnt and grown by leaps and bounds, as I do with every new year.

But I'm particularly excited about what 2011 holds.

Turning 27. I always thought I'd get married when I turn 27, but now that it's fast becoming a reality, it doesn't feel like I'm running out of time anymore. I guess they call that growing up, and gaining some perspective.

Starting a new job. The significant thing about this has got to be moving into a new industry, and a whole new role. My whole career I've been in agencies, it's time to see what the other side of the fence is like now. And I hope they really do poop rainbows. But even if they don't, I'll just listen to my Glee* tunes and poop my happy rainbows anyway.

*Now listening to Forget You, featuring Gwyneth Paltrow. It's my happy song of the day. I think Gwyneth is truly one awesome, cool chick.

A new grown-up black bag. As Lulu Guiness says, you can never have too many bags right. And pretty bags (and clothes) for work always makes me look forward to it that much more. It puts a spring in my step for some reason. I've been hunting around for one ever since the faux PVC on my black Egg3 bag started peeling. And they've all either been too expensive, too common, too fancy or just plain ugly. Finally, today I found one and it'll be here in a nice, orange, ribboned box in the next couple of days. I've never seen it in person, but I sure hope photos don't lie.

A healthier me. The late 20s are well and truly here, no more taking my health for granted. Running once a month doesn't constitute a proper work out. And eating a whole (large) bag of chips in one sitting, or 300g of strawberry straps in 6hours just isn't normal. Unfortunately dear body, I'll never treat you like a temple the way celebrities do - with only organic and fresh produce (I honestly don't think I can bid goodbye to junk food) - but I'll certainly try hard to cut back on them. The one exception to the rule would be Parma ham. But even then, I'll try not to buy any Parma home to pig out on. I recently discovered the $28++ appetiser dinner buffet at Basilico which is right next door to my new office - all you can eat Parma ham! So I shall keep it to occasional treats for when I've had a particularly bad day at work, or when I have something good to celebrate. And as a nod to healthy living, I've signed up for a 120-class yoga package for the year ahead. Which works out to about 10 classes a month.

Finding the glow. Let's not forget our largest organ - my skin! Time to put all those beauty products I love to buy, to good use. And to get sufficient daily sleep.

Getting connected. Finally converted to an iPhone. I can't imagine how I survived all this time without it! My new pink, polka dotted Kate Spade cover arrived today. Just looking at it makes me smile. I feel with my iPhone by my side, I'll be able to conquer anything. Apps and maps are totally awesome.

Seeing the world. I loved every minute of our Japan trip this year, and I want to go back for a return visit next year. Maybe a different season this time. Summer, so I'll have to wear less, which means more space in the luggage to bring home food and shopping. I don't think I'll ever tire of Japan.

To 2011!

And here's the song I've been listening to all night.

Home poo

2010-10-10T18:00:00.002+08:00

Being back in Singapore is kinda surreal. The only thing running through my mind now, amidst the half-unpacked chaos that is my room, is where my next long holiday destination will be.

Just one day, and already I'm back to the unhealthy eating habits of the Singaporean way.

Where are the easily available bento's and onigiri's from the convenience stores, the freshly made salads, sushi and crepes? The freshly grated wasabi, and the handmade soba noodles with lovingly boiled broth?

Where where where!

I had no chips while I was there. Imagine that. Me. Queen of potato chips. Had. No. Chips!

But back one day and I've already had instant noodles and chocolate cookies.

I feel grossed out with myself.

Bah.

Preparing for war

2010-08-27T23:37:00.002+08:00

Tonight we went to Itacho at Ion for dinner - my favourite Japanese restaurant in Singapore.

It's so insanely awesome I could just die. Well, no, not really. But you get the drift, really quite the bomb.

The horrible part is that we waited in line for close to an hour before getting seats. It used to be bad. Now it's disgusting. I solemnly swear to myself to stop telling people about it. I'm just hurting myself, and my tummy.

If anyone asks, "Itacho? Bah. Go to Sushi Tei instead. Much better value for money."

I'll go on a one-woman crusade to smear their good name all over the web. Won't make much of a difference anyway, aside from deterring the late bloomers who haven't yet discovered the place - early bird gets the worm and there's just no more room to accommodate late bloomers.

Anyway, the boyfriend took me there, on the pretext that he owed me an Itacho meal because he made me miss the last time when my family went.

But secretly I think it's because he knows I had a horrible start to the day at work and was trying to do something nice. Or maybe it's coz he just got himself a new job and wanted to celebrate. Either way, it works out.

The food was yummy, and I'm a happy bunny.

After dinner, we hung around for a bit trying to get a cab. As we were about the head up the escalators, I heard the siren call of Marks n' Spencer. Now I don't typically shop at Marks n' Spencer. Not sure why, it's just never seemed that natural to me to buy food there.

But today, it was like a my tummy had a mind of its own and lead me through the gleaming glass doors. I walked down aisle after aisle of food, picking up more than I intended to.

What can I say.

I never could resist a 'get the second one at half price' or 'two for the price of xxx' type of offers.

The huge bag of groceries I walked out with reminded me of only one thing.

We're preparing for war and now, thanks to my weakness for junk for offers, at least we have rations.

If I resent not having time to run now, just wait till September comes.

Somebody wake me up, when September ends.

Choose-day ramble

2010-08-24T23:10:00.001+08:00

I can't believe it's only choose-day (tuesday).

I don't really have anything philosphical to say, and really, I'm supposed to be showering and getting ready for bed right this instant.

But for some reason, I'm still glued to the comp. Could be withdrawal symptoms from not having blog-shopped in awhile. Or it could be sheer laziness on my part. But more than likely it's a winning combination of the two.

I think my cookies from yesterday turned out well. I think figuring out (sort of) the heat settings on the oven made a whole load of difference. Who knew!

I packed 6 in a ziplock bag and took it to work to share with my colleagues. I gave one away, and ate the rest in quick succession. I think at some point when one of my colleagues looked over, I might even have hid the bag of cookies under the table just so she wouldn't see it and ask for one - unconsciously of course.

What can I say. There were only 5 left, and 5 cookies really aren't a lot of cookies.

In my world, when you can physically count the number of remaining pieces, it's not a lot.

It's like when I went for steamboat with the girls and ordered 5 (maybe more) plates of beef. They looked at me in shock. But hey! I counted only 4 slices of beef per plate. And 4 x 5 = 20. 20 is not a big number!

Or when I bought strawberry straps from the candy store at the airport. For some weird reason, they had each strap rolled up into a little ball. You could count it as you were putting it into the bag which made it seem less than it probably really was. See, when I buy straps the way it's normally sold - i.e. just laid out in stacks horizontally, I just grab a bunch not knowing how many I'm getting. And when I buy them that way, the unknown figure keeps me on my tops and adds to the experience of discovery - and hence, probably distracts me long enough to make it seem like it's quite a lot.

The long story short, it bothers me when I can count the number of remaining pieces.

I like handfuls of things. Random numbers. Mystery and best of all, surprise!

You know, like when you dig out another whole chip from the bottom of the bag, just when you thought you were done with it all!

Ah. The gratification.

Sometimes, the way I'm able to ramble on when I didn't start out with anything to say amazes me.

Good night!

Baking Orange Chocolate Chippers

2010-08-23T22:49:00.010+08:00

"A lot of good gamers can be good bakers coz it's all about using your thumb", he says.

After work today I thought it'd be fun to bake some cookies - we're still on a quest to perfect this recipe for Orange Chocolate Chippers. You might have read about the last attempt in a post below.

I don't know if it's just me, but I find you can never really follow recipes to a T. There are always tweaks you have to make due to availability of ingredients and/or utensils, and also to suit your tastebuds.

I think it's a conspiracy amongst cooks everywhere - they publish books and blogs with recipes on the pretense of 'sharing', but come on, nobody really wants to give away the real secret to yummy food so they make it as generic and elusive as possible. And they make it sound like it's the easiest thing in the world to do, so much so that you feel dumb if you don't get it right; and then because you feel dumb, you probably won't ask questions because you think people might laugh at you which only serves to further propagate the conspiracy that the recipe rocks - and there we go, full circle.

So that's where we are with the Orange Chocolate Chippers - still on the road to perfection. Doesn't help that I haven't quite decided if they taste best as crunchy cookies, or slightly soft chewy cookies.

Before getting down and dirty in the kitchen, we had to make a quick stop by the supermarket to pick up the ingredients.

And of course at the supermarket, he got distracted at the 'tv shopping section' where they sell things like the Jack Lelaine power juicer and some magic mop.

Ingredients

1 cup of vegetable shortening

3/4 cup of sugar

3 ounces of cream cheese softened

2 eggs

as much orange zest as you like (i usually use between 1 - 2 oranges)

2 teaspoons of vanilla essence

2 1/3 cups of all purpose flour

1 teaspoon of salt

as much chocolate chips as you deem fit

Method

1. Pre-heat oven to 170 deg c.

Now I have a lot of settings on my fancy schmancy Ariston oven (you can check them out at mayer.com.sg) and I never know which one to use. But in my mind, it just made sense to turn on the setting with the line (straight or squiggly) on the top because I'm trying to cook them.

I've since learnt otherwise - that I should be using the one with the line on the bottom rather than the top. It's for reasons unbeknownst to me, but I'm letting you in on the secret, in case you were just like me, lost.

In a bid to get a better grasp on this baking thing, I've tried googling what the symbols mean, and also read up on what people suggest as the best setting for baking. Turns out, you find nothing helpful.

I came across a couple of sites where some supposedly great baker took a stab at unravelling this great mystery. The answers did nothing for me, but the comments to the post raved about how awesome said bakers were for finally helping them understand all the ten million and one settings. Again, reinforcing my belief that it's all a bloody conspiracy.

So anyway, now you know. Just turn the oven on, and randomly select one of the ones with the line at the bottom - I chose the one with also a symbol that looks like a fan.

2. Mix shortening, sugar and cream cheese in a bowl

If you're sadistic (or lazy like me), take the cream cheese straight out of the fridge and put it into a bowl. It'll be a bitch to mash up, especially when you use just a wooden spatula and lots of grit. This was his job, naturally. Partly because he was asking for something to do (as usual), and partly because this is usually the bit I dread most. I usually like monopolising the fun bits like dropping the dough onto the tray. Makes me feel all nice and good-mother-materially.

Now shortening, truth be told, I didn't have a clue what this was - still don't for sure, but at least now discovered there are two types you can buy. One that comes in a generic, non-descript plastic box that you can buy at fairprice. or another that comes in a fancy pants packaging, branded Crisco. I've tried both, and they taste vastly different. can't say which is the better one though because it really comes down to personal preference but if you have to pick one, I'll say go for the Crisco because it says 50% less saturated fats than butter on the packaging, and also because they have these cool markings that tell you how much you're using without the need for pesky measuring cups!

Mush it all up with the sugar till it's a nice, creamy texture.

3. Add eggs, orange zest and vanilla essence

This is my favourite part because the orange zest smells so good! The original recipe called for two tablespoons of orange zest but how do you measure that anyway. So I say just grab a couple of oranges, a grater and go at it till your arms get sore. For me, that's usually somewhere between orange 1 and orange 2.

Next, add in the eggs and becareful to scoop out any red disgusting bits from the egg - you don't want any little chicks hatching in your belly. Yes, I also believe that brocoli's will sprout whole colonies along the inside walls of my large intestines. Not really. I just remove the red bits because I find them gross. He's not quite so particular, but he's also quite easily ignored on such occasions.

And then add in the vanilla essence. I used these cute heart-shaped spoons I got as a door gift at a friend's wedding recently.

4. Sift together floor and salt into mixture

Cups always confused me because I have cups of all sizes in my cupboard, up till today that is. We picked up a measuring cup thingy with markings from the supermarket because I'm really feeling like I could be a good mama baker one day who makes her own cookies and jam for her children.

This is also when he abandoned the wooden spatula and went in with his hands - thus explaining the quote above.

5. Stir in chocolate chips and drop cookie dough onto a tray for baking

I honestly think that you should just go nuts with the chocolate chips and put in as much (or as little) as you like. It's your perogative and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Finally, play cookie god by dropping the cookie dough onto the trays. As cookie god, you get to decide the fate of each and every cookie. How big or small each one is, how brown they get and whether or not they'll be loved.

It'll make your day if you're slightly fluffy like me. I said fluffy not insane.

Put the tray into the oven to bake, and check periodically. They'll be done when they're just lightly browned. Mine usually take anywhere between 30-40minutes - I honestly cannot for the life of me figure out why the original recipe said something like 10-12 minutes. It could possibly be that I haven't figured out the settings on the oven, or more likely that said recipe-writer didn't want to share the real recipe and so throws you off with mis-information like the above - again, conspiracy conspiracy conspiracy I tell you.

But anyway, the end result is pretty yummy.

Ever the emo kid

2010-08-17T00:38:00.002+08:00

Now listening to: "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds Five

I had a flashback earlier of my teenage years. The excitement of entering secondary school, discovering the internet (making friends on the internet! sexual predators who prowled the web weren't as prevalent back then.), meeting boys.

Growing up some more, becoming somewhat withdrawn, fighting with my parents, going through phases (long hair, short hair, jap-inspired clothes, american ghetto, american high school slut - think midriffs, it wasn't less is more, it was just less and less).

Dropping out of ballet class. Finding my way back to ballet class. Dropping out of ballet class again.

Making it through the Singapore education system.

Leaving Singapore for Melbourne.

Growing up a WHOLE lot.

And through it all, I would say that songs were the constant that accompanied me through each phase of my life. I've always been more the emotionally-driven type of person, and songs are my universal language of feelings.

They take me through highs and lows, and can transform my mood from depressed one minute, to chirpy the next.

I'm not sure if it's because I'm emotionally unstable, but even just hearing a few strains of a somewhat emo song can transport me back in time to a period of moodiness and depression. It runs a shiver down my spine, and I hurry to click 'next' to move on to the next song.

I was thinking today what the soundtrack of my life would be. What songs would I select to chronicle my quarter of a century (plus one) so far.

It's a tough choice.

You know, I find song selections an extremely personal thing because I hold it so close to heart. I will never play a mixed CD when in a car with people not in my immediate bubble (and that's a very very small bubble with probably a population of one and a half - the half being Mikey). I instinctively reach for the 'FM' button on the dashboard as soon as someone steps in. I'm not sure why but it makes me feel vulnerable. Almost like I'm exposing myself, uncensored. And I find that disconcerting.

I think when someone makes you a mixed CD it's an extremely romantic gestures. It's almost as personal a message as writing a letter.

But that's just me - ruled by emotions.

I like words. I don't like people.

2010-08-14T08:57:00.003+08:00

I like words, I always have. I find solace in it whenever I'm unhappy, and joy in it when I'm well, happy.

I don't like the spoken word as much as I do the written word. And I guess that's why I don't like people very much. I'm not a social-social type of girl, and 'mingling' (I hate the word) exhausts me. Sitting around over a beer (which I don't drink), smiling and finding things to say people you don't really know makes me want to hurl. I'd much rather be in bed with a book.

Of course there are times when going out with friends/colleagues can be nice. But for the most part, it's not something I enjoy. It is something I struggle with working in advertising - and sometimes, to a certain extent, with him.

People who work in advertising always like 'going out for a drink' after work. My boss is always trying to 'buy me a drink' after a gruelling week, and no. I don't want to. Like how some people draw the line at adding colleagues and clients on their Facebook page, I'll happily add you on my Facebook page but I draw the line at hanging out over a drink (most of the time).

He's a lot more social and emotionally stable than I am, and often encourages me to 'go out more'. This statement usually infuriates me to no end because I think (1) you should know me by now, and (2) yes, I know, I don't drink, and if that's such a big problem go find yourself a girlfriend who does so you can do cool yuppie-type stuff like hang out over beer and mussels at Robertson Quay.

Of course I know he doesn't mean it that way. But what can I say, I'm just an emotional person who has a flair for dramatics - and really good at throwing the drama tantrums too, if I do say so myself.

He on the other hand is just a social person by nature, and hates that I coop myself up all the time because I have a tendency to let my thoughts run wild, or get all emo and just want to curl up into a ball and die. I agree it's not healthy, so sometimes, just sometimes, I make the effort to go out after work with my colleagues and resist the urge to leave as soon as possible.

Usually after a couple of hours I start looking at my watch to hurry time along so I can leave at a legitimately late hour like past ten.

I'm not sure why I dislike socialising so much, because I was quite the opposite during my early teens. I used to love going out in big groups and organising ginormous get-togethers. I guess people change.

I attribute my affection for words to my parents who drowned me in books, growing up. It's true till today I still don't know what a noun or a verb is, but I guess that's part of the reason I like words so much. It's something I express based on feeling, it's not a learned habit/skill.

Last day on earth

2010-08-13T23:19:00.004+08:00

We had a morbid, but light-hearted conversation about death over dinner the other day. Since my somewhat depressive state last year (has it really been a year, wow) I've been fixated on the idea of dying young.

And even when I think about it now, I can't see the flaw in that plan.

Anyway, this conversation started again because he did some fortune telling thing with a colleague at work. And according to this colleague, his fate said that he would have a wife who died early.

I tried asking him for more details which he either knew and didn't want to reveal, or honestly didn't know because he didn't want to dwell on it.

So naturally, being the curious eager beaver I am, I wouldn't let it go. Till he looked up from his food and gave me the saddest little look before saying, "it makes me sad to talk about it. can we not, please.". And then I zipped it.

His response caught me a little by surprise.

Even now, whenever I see glimpses of genuine love in his words, actions, tone and manner, it never fails to warm my heart, and touch a little place so deep within I didn't even know it existed.

So as much as I sometimes think I'd like to die young, I feel sad at the prospect of leaving him behind. I don't want to make him sad, because he's not a sad boy. He's cynical, yes, and sometimes evil, but for the most part, he's a genuinely simple happy boy. There's a certain childlike naivety about him that I see and I'd hate to be the reason for him not to be.

And to sum this post up, I just watched Nickelback's Far Away music video. Something about the song makes me feel like it would be a nice way to end my life. It's kinda like the song you play when the credits roll, and you see flashbacks.

What I did over the long weekend

2010-08-10T20:08:00.003+08:00

It was Singapore's 45th birthday yesterday, but more importantly a long weekend!

I feel so unpatriotic saying this out loud, but it's true! The past few weeks at work have been really grueling, so this break was more than welcome.

Friday night I watched Airbender. It was crappity poo, probably just enough mental complexity and texture for a 5 year olds.

Saturday I had lunch at Old Airport Road food centre. Was a little grumpy because I spent the morning on the potty emptying out my tummy, which translated into a very hungry and light headed Kim. But all was well as soon as I laid my hands on a cheese pancake from Aunty Oats.

Spent the rest of Saturday playing mahjong.

Sunday woke up early to watch The Sorcerer's Apprentice - now that was a good show. Loved the soundtrack, in particular this one track by One Republic. The title eludes me now and I don't feel like opening up my iTunes to check.

Went home after the show for a nap - afternoon naps are always required on weekends when I wake at any hour earlier than noon.

Woke up and went for a run. Not really. Well, kinda. We set out from home towards ECP at a comfortable pace (for me anyway). The plan was that I'd leave him at the exercise station to carry on with his manly sets (he gets down and dirty with the other boys there, literally! It's a grubby outdoor exercise station and I hate it when he tries to make me lie down on the floor to do sit-ups), and I would continue on towards Maccas. I got about as far as big splash with my left hip joint started hurting. I tried to hobble on for a bit but the pain, combined with the smoke and the masses of people melted my resolve so I turned around and headed back.

Reached the exercise station, whined a little about the pain to elicit some sympathy and head off any intentions he might have had about me getting down on that grubby floor to do some sit-ups.

Plan worked!

Waited for him to be done, and then we headed home to shower.

Went out again to Old Airport Road for dinner. Decided to stop at NTUC after dinner to pick up some groceries. Hit on a brain wave to bake some cookies (Orange Chocolate Chippers), so picked up ingredients for that purpose. Discovered the existence of shortening, and that it was sometimes used in lieu of butter. Felt quite kitchen-savvy and contemplated starting a blog to write about my awesome cooking adventures. The thought lasted for all of 2minutes before I decided it was too much hard work what with the pictures and the writing. The writing I can do, but pictures exhaust me.

Went home. Made the cookies. Made him take pictures of me making the cookies. He took about two, before he got bored and insisted on wanting to 'stir' something. I gave him the mixing bowl and handed him the ladle. He mushed it around in the bowl for a bit and started whining about how hard work baking was.

Yes, he who often goes on about how if he wasn't working in advertising he would be a chef.

He who makes up stories of his (hypothetical - a point he often conveniently omits) awesome cooking adventures. I kid you not. Here's a guy who randomly pulls stories out of his ass about "this one time, when he made this really delightful salmon steak" with "tips from his really famous chef friend". Both are works of fiction.

But in his defense, it could very well be true.

That brought us to a story he once told me in our early days when we were talking about food. He went on for about five minutes about a really yummy garlic herb butter fried rice he's supposedly great at making.

I turned to him and said "that was a lie wasn't it!".

And all this time I thought he made really yummy garlic herb butter fried rice.

Back to our Orange Chocolate Chippers. I gave him a little demo and he soon got the hang of it. Our cookies were a little soft coz we couldn't figure out the settings on the oven, but I have to say, they tasted pretty damn good!

After the cookies, I still wasn't ready for bed and since we were trying hard to save up for our Japan trip, I decided to write another piece for CLEO. It was a confession on my blog-shopaholic ways - how ironic because that's where all my money goes every month.

Finally, we went to bed.

The next day, we woke again for lunch and were back in bed for a nap by 2pm. Told you afternoon naps were a requisite whenever we wake earlier than 12.

Had to do a bit of work in between, but we spent most of the day doing not much at all.

And that's how the weekend blew by.

How much is too much personal information?

2010-07-15T22:19:00.002+08:00

The Internet is a strange place. One in which people seemingly say or do things freely, with no regard for its consequence on the real world.

And I guess ten years ago, it was probably true.

Cyberspace and the real world, were as far apart as cheese blocks and me (it's far because I'm craving one now, and don't have one. Maybe that metaphor doesn't make sense, but whatever. You get my point.)

But that's no longer the case. And hasn't been for awhile now.

It all started with blogs. The voyeuristic nature in people get stirred up when they stumble across blogs whose owners offer more than just a cursory glimpse into his/her lives. Don't you think the most intriguing reads are the ones where they write like no one's reading? The ones where you can imagine the sort of person he/she would be in real life.

Reading someone's blog can be a very personal affair.

I remember more than one occasion, stumbling across someone's blog, spending days reading it, and then actually bumping into the person in real life. Once, I was in a lift at my place in Melbourne. The lift doors opened, and in stepped this guy whose blog I'd been reading. I knew he lived in Melbourne through his blog entries, but had no idea he lived in the very same building that as I!

Anyway, he stepped in and I felt like I knew him forever. I knew what he had for dinner the night before, I knew where he went the weekend before. I knew his friends by name and face through the pictures on his blog, and that he had just celebrated his 26th birthday.

But yet I didn't know him.

The him I saw in person, didn't look anything like the friendly guy he came across as in his blog.

Then the lift doors opened, and he walked out.

It was a strange encounter. For me anyway.

But it's occasions like this that make me think that it's probably true I can sometimes be too quick to judge people on face value.

Just today I had another such moment.

There's a lady I know through work. Now we haven't been working together all that long, and to be honest, I think she's a bit of a strange cookie. In fact, I always stifle a laugh when she talks because I find her weird and a little off her rocker.

Today, on my way to dinner, I decided to surf FB on my phone. By some connection or another, I found myself ending up on her blog, and to be honest, I liked the person who wrote those entries.

She was neither weird nor strange. She was a mother with two loving children. Children who made her loving gifts for mother's day. She liked going for morning runs, and I could go on, but frankly, is just an all round smarter, sweeter person than I gave her credit for.

I felt ashamed for judging her.

And told myself I would make more of an effort to get to know people before judging in future.

But my point is this. It's scary how easy it is to access information about someone on the Internet. It's true we probably give away more than we should. But how much is too much?

And anyway, I'm not sure we can stop this digital revolution anywhere.

It's a decade too late.

Being grateful.

2010-06-04T16:13:00.004+08:00

As I walked down the corridor of a HDB block yesterday evening, I couldn't help but look into the windows. I could see kids playing in the living room, teenagers surfing on the internet and parents watching tv.

I saw one particular apartment that only had an old CRT TV and an overturned carton - which acted as a makeshift table of sorts - in the living room.

I turned to boo to ask, "why is their place so sparsely furnished?". In my mind a scene of people carting home tables, chairs, boxes and plants from Ikea suddenly appeared.

"Because some people don't have a lot of money baby", he responded.

It was a simple and truthful answer.

Hearing the sounds of the television and of kids playing, it all felt very surreal.

I stepped into the lift and looked around again. It was tiny, slightly claustrophic and had a black-and-white printed A4 sheet selling something or another for $1,000.

I kept away from the walls of the lift which was kind of grotty.

And then I felt afraid, and inched closer to him for comfort.

He looked at me, patted my arm and smiled.

The only thing I could think about on the way home was "how, how do they live with people looking in their windows all the time?".

I read online that over 80% of Singaporeans live in HDB flats.

And all of a sudden I felt very sheltered.

I thought of the dinner we had a few weeks back at Ichiban Boshi. I was just in a mood, and went crazy with the food, ordering every other thing on the menu; while he ordered just a soba and tempura set.

15minutes in, it was obvious I wasn't going to be able to finish the food so I started eating just the toppings of the sushi, leaving behind the rice.

He hates wasting food. So he told the waitress to pack up his uneaten soba, and started eating my leftover sushi rice with his tempura.

It made my heart ache to see him eating my leftovers, and I tried more than once to take it away. But he wouldn't let me.

And so I sat there, watching him finish his meal. Never once reprimanding me.

But strangely, in doing what he did, I felt more ashamed of myself than I would have if he had taken to giving me a lecture on how the children in Africa are starving.

Being with him makes me want to be a better person.

Hiccups, bumps and listening.

2010-06-03T15:45:00.005+08:00

*poof*

*pop*

*wham*

That's the sound of blueberries and chocolate chips popping out all over the place, and not getting replaced quite as quickly.

I only have so many band aids, and I'm trying to put them to good use. But it doesn't seem to be working. They're falling out quicker than I can patch up the wonky holes.

"He's being unreasonable", she said.

"No she's being unreasonable", he said.

So what happens from here?

I went to a workshop a couple of weeks back. It was about Negotiation Skills. And I was told that the key to this (which can be applied in everything you do) is learning the lost art of listening.

Listening is a tricky thing. It's not the same as hearing, internalising and actioning. And it takes more effort than you think because it means putting aside your thoughts for the moment, and taking on those of someone else's. Finding the meaning in the words, and the motivations behind them.

It's something I'm learning.

And trying to do better.

But it's an uphill battle all the way.

And when I encounter those hiccups and bumps in my journey, I can't help but wonder if the listening is all that important. Does it really matter that every spoken word is addressed?

In fact, does it even really matter if I make my point? Because when you think about it, all that matters is the end game.

So should it matter if what I'm saying is right or wrong?

What's the point of the 'right', when all I really want at the end of the day, is sunshine and chunk-a-lot of happiness.

But again of course, a lot easier said than done.

Is anybody out there?

2010-06-02T19:09:00.003+08:00

Hello world. It's been awhile since I wrote. Mostly because work takes up so much of my time and energy.

Tonight I'm going for Marketing's Agency of the Year awards night.

I feel like the past 3years+ of my working life has been a strange journey. It's neither long nor short, but one thing's for sure, I can't claim to be a fresh grad anymore.

I have a love-hate relationship with advertising. It's larger than life, with ego's a-plenty, and lots of people I just want to stomp into the 7th level of hell but yet, I don't know anything else outside of it.

There was a time not too long ago when I tried to take myself out of it. To try something new.

But it wasn't to be, and I found myself right back here.

I've decided now that the only way to survive this is if work made up just 50% of my life. Right now it's closer to 99%, which is why I surmise, when anything goes belly-up at work, it literally sucks the life-force out of me and makes me want to curl up into a ball and die.

So 50% it's going to be.

And we'll take baby steps, starting with muay thai and marathons. Which is ironic because I've gone from killing myself emotionally, to killing myself physically.

Oh well.

At least it's something else.

Twilight: Eclipse

2010-04-18T11:54:00.002+08:00

I haven't updated this space in awhile, and I really need to go shower now but I just saw news that Twilight: Eclipse is going to be release in June!

Which means we have only two short months to watch, and re-watch the first and the second ones (ironic I can't remember their titles right this minute, even though I'm one of those swoony girls in the cinema. it's probably coz I only watch it for Edward.) before the third one comes out.

Hang tight baby!

Keeping my head above the water

2010-02-28T19:58:00.002+08:00

It's been awhile since I last wrote, and a month since I started my new job. Work has been crazy from day 'go', and not showing any signs of easing up.

It honestly feels like anything that can go wrong at work, will go wrong. And I constantly feel like I'm racing against the clock to get things done.

The 12-14 hour days, including some weekends has left me drained. It sure feels a lot longer than a mere month, and a short one at that!

I guess the one thing I can be thankful for is that my team is great. Everyone's been very helpful and patient with my many questions, and it's made the transition process that little bit easier.

It's the last day of the Lunar New Year today.

I feel like my life has come full circle in the past year. But still I can't help being a little moody tonight.

Monday is coming again, all too quickly.

Just keep swimming

2010-02-03T21:43:00.003+08:00

It's only my 3rd day of work, but already I feel like I've been there forever. In a tired kind of way.

Day 1 I was able to leave at about 640pm.

Day 2 I left at 930pm.

Day 3 I left at 830pm.

There's so much going on at the moment and I'm just trying to wrap my head around it all, whilst proving my worth - which is extremely hard when you're unable to value-add in meetings because you don't have sufficient background.

Everything I do, it takes me twice as long because I haven't gotten accustomed to the acronyms (there are like 10 million), the names of the clients (who does what), the various stakeholders and the campaign itself.

So for now, I'm still floundering, trying to find my way.

But I will say this. I like what I know of the place, the work and the clients so far.

Love \ Love

2010-01-29T09:44:00.003+08:00

I want to know what love is.

The Mariah Carey rendition.

The MTV isn't particularly well done, but there's something incredibly soulful and moving about her voice that just makes you want to stop and listen.

I also realised yesterday evening that I now have three versions of this song in my iTunes. I guess it's a popular song.

And speaking of love, I found another yesterday.

But I got it in ash brown instead of the black you see above. I've been thinking about it for months but could never bear to part with the money.

Till now; egged on by Tannie (I call her "little voice in my head"). This is the 2nd most expensive item I have ever bought myself. The 1st would be my MacBook.

I never liked big wallets before, and this isn't exactly huge, but it's bigger than what I'm used to.

I have realised in the past year that I am appreciating the things I have, more and more. I was never one to take exceptionally good care of my phone/wallet/bag/clothes/shoes, but I find myself doing so now.

It's scarily easy to spend money, and I don't want to grow old only to realise that I have flitted away all I have. I don't want to have to depend on my children or anyone else financially. I want to be able to support myself. And I think that's the best lesson my parents have ever taught me.

Another bum off the street

2010-01-28T10:39:00.004+08:00

I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I'm so excited to be going to work on Monday !

I'm sure in a couple of months I'm going to be moaning about the weekly grind, but for now, I'm excited.

I was without a job for about 2 and a half months, and I remember thinking at some desperate point that a career-switch would be good or me. I thought I'd be happy as a digit who shopped at G2000.

Turns out, I wasn't. And thankfully, the universe thought so as well.

I am a fluffy person, and I belong in this fluffy world of greys. It's where I'm comfortable, and where I enjoy being.

"Hello Monday!"

Japanese !

2010-01-22T22:20:00.012+08:00

Fresh from my attempt at cooking Thai (which didn't go too badly at all), I decided that tonight I would do Japanese.

The Menu

Miso Soup

Ebi and Sweet Potato Tempura

Japanese Rice

Dish 1 - Miso Soup

Anyone can mix paste with water, so I decided to make it a little fancier.

Ingredients: Miso paste, half a white onion, enoki mushroom, tofu, nori

METHOD:

1. Don't worry, you only have to chop the onion roughly into cubes; it won't take very long and therefore, won't leave you all weepy. Put them in a pot with some oil, and saute for awhile. Use only a wee bit of oil or your soup be really oily.

2. Pour in some water quickly while standing as far as you possibly can from the pot. There will be a slight cackle and pop from the initial contact of the water with the pot.

3. Bring to a boil then lower heat and simmer for about half an hour.

4. Add miso paste, nori, tofu and enoki mushroom. Stir till cooked. If you find that the nori and enoki mushroom are a little too chunky, you can do what I did. Which is to take a pair of scissors, put it into the pot and just snap randomly.

5. Tada, ready to serve !

Dish 2 - Tempura

Ah, this one takes lots of skill. One which I have yet to master. But I'll try, try again. You can use anything you want, but I used sweet potato and prawns today.

INGREDIENTS

Sweet potato

Prawns

Tempura flour

Tempura dipping sauce

Check out this mother-of-all sweet potatoes, it was ginormous !

And it took me a good 15minutes to slice it all like so. I kid you not, this takes some real arm strength. Lucky for me, handygirl Kim has been working out by way of assembling my Ikea furniture. Ignore the darker-coloured ones in the foreground, those are steamed sweet potatoes that were left over from my mom's lunch.

Prawns, which should be curled like so for optimum freshness.

It occurred to me as I was taking the prawns out of the packet that tempura prawns are usually served straight. By that logic, the me-before-learning-that-fresh-prawns-are-curled would have gone straight for the stretched out prawns. But now that I know better, I had another dilemma on my hands. How does one get their prawns straight ?

So naturally, I googled it.

Literally.

"How to straighten tempura prawns"

And what do you know. I'm not the only one who wonders that !

I came across a few sites which basically told me to make 2-3 slits at the bottom of the prawn. So I did. But that didn't make removing the veins very easy at all, so I decided to just slit the whole of the bottom. What is the deal with 2-3 slits anyway. By the time you do that, you've practically slit the whole bottom.

2 to 3 prawns in, I noticed another black thing dangling off the top portion of the prawn. I didn't realise there was another one at the top ! I guess you learn something new everyday. Anyway, de-veining prawns isn't something I normally do. I only did it because they said to do so in the recipes I came across. I never really saw the point to it though.

Once all that's prepared, we can start !

METHOD

1. Mix tempura flour with cold water. I read on one of the sites that you should put an ice cube in as well to keep it cold, so I did. I also read that you shouldn't mix the batter too evenly, and that it should have some lumps in it. So I did that too.

2. Heat the oil.

3. Dip the sweet potato / prawn in the batter, and slide into the wok. Let it sizzle and swim around till golden brown, or whatever the colour usually is when you have it at restaurants.

4. Remove and set on a plate laid with paper towels to absorb the oil.

5. Serve with tempura dipping sauce.

This was the sauce and flour I picked up from Cold Storage.

Dinner! Admittedly the prawns didn't quite turn out the way it's supposed to, but it tasted alright I think. Better luck (and skill) next time !

My new room

2010-01-22T13:30:00.002+08:00

Handygirl Kim

2010-01-21T23:25:00.003+08:00

I went to Ikea today to pick up the last of the pieces to complete my wardrobe - a 100cm clothes rail, and 2x 50cm wire baskets. Because they weren't available when I got all the other bits delivered and assembled, I had to install these myself with my handy $9.50 orange toolbox.

I truly detest assembling Ikea furniture - something I discovered during my Uni days in Melbourne.

It's just something I never get right.

I lived with a half-assembled desk in Melbourne for two years before I finally decided to discard it. It wobbled because I couldn't get the legs screwed in properly, and what was meant to be drawers were not able to be used because I fitted some pieces in the wrong way.

And that's just one example of many.

But I figured I wouldn't have too much problem with the clothes rail and the baskets, after all, it was just a matter of screwing 4 screws in, each.

I succeeded in the task (I hope), but my hands are all blistery now and I just want to get into bed and feel sorry for myself.

A Thai Attempt

2010-01-19T19:56:00.013+08:00

Fresh from my Phuket escapade, I decided to attempt a Thai meal for dinner.

The menu:

1. Pineapple Chicken with Oyster Mushroom
2. Deep Fried Morning Glory
3. Tom Yum Seafood Soup
4. Rice

I'm not a particularly expert cook, but I figure that I've grown up watching enough people cook (mom, aunties, sisters, Yan - of 'Yan can cook fame') so how hard could it be right ? I can just go on gut and a little improvisation, like I normally do with just about everything.

Dish 1 - Pineapple Chicken with Oyster Mushroom

INGREDIENTS
Fresh pineapple (cut into cubes)
Chicken breast (cut into cubes)
Oyster mushroom (randomly sliced)
Garlic
Oyster Sauce
Corn flour
Water

METHOD
i. Coat the chicken in some corn flour and deep fry in a wok, then set aside on a plate that's been laid with some kitchen towels (paper not cloth) to soak up the oil.

ii. Oil in pan; for some reason, I don't seem to have a frying pan at home. It's a recent development. I suspect my mom threw it out as part of her 'new year spring cleaning' routine. She's quite strange, she throws out/gives away things we need, and keep the things we don't. For example, no frying pan but we do have 5 pots. So anyway, I heated up some oil in a pot and fried the garlic. I didn't use the wok because it was filled with oil from the earlier deep frying, and too hot for me to clear.

iii. Add the oyster mushroom, some water and continue frying. The oyster mushroom that my mom got from the market was of a curious variety, it's huge ! I've never seen anything like it. At least the size of three of my fists.

I wasn't sure what to do with it, so I just sliced it up randomly like so (see below).

iii. Add chicken and pineapple cubes, some oyster sauce and water and let it simmer for a bit then it's done !

Dish 2 - Deep Fried Morning Glory

INGREDIENTS
Morning glory
Tempura battter
Sweet chilli sauce to accompany

METHOD
i. Mix your tempura flour with some ice water - that's what I gathered from the couple of recipes I read on 'how to make tempura'. It's supposed to add extra crisp to the final product I think. For good measure (and because the weather was so hot), I decided to toss in an ice cube as well and let it slowly melt whilst I took my time coating and frying the morning glory.

ii. Heat oil lots of oil in a huge wok.

iii. Take a bunch of morning glory, sort of fold it into half and then coat it in the batter. I used tongs to hold on to it coz I wasn't sure how it was meant to be done. And if you were me, you'd fry this one bunch at a time because the oil splatters like crazy. So take the bunch of batter-coated morning glory drop it into the oil (gently), and then step away while it splutters. After about 30-40 seconds (or when it stops spluttering), it's safe to step in and turn it around. When it's slightly brown, take it out and let the oil dry again on some paper towels.

iv. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

v. Serve with sweet chilli sauce.

It should look like so.

Dish 3 - Tom Yum Seafood Soup

INGREDIENTS

Tom Yum Paste

Shallots

Lemongrass

Tomatoes

Prawns (with head)

Squid

Straw Mushrooms

Chicken Stock

METHOD

i. First, prepare all your ingredients like so, so it's all handy.

Straw mushrooms, shallots, lemon grass, tomatoes

Squid (again, wasn't sure how it should be cut, so I just sliced it into random bite-sized pieces), prawns - separate the heads, and de-shell the body. Just a tip from my boyfriend the Nat Geo geek, when picking prawns you should also pick those that are curled up. It means they're fresher than their stretched out counterparts. I can't remember why though.

METHOD

i. Some oil in a pot, stir fry the shallots and lemongrass and prawn heads. Add water, chicken stock and tomatoes then bring to a boil.

ii. Add tom yum paste, I used this that I got from the airport on the way back from Phuket - we had some spare Baht. Let it simmer for about 20 minutes.

iii. Add the seafood, and you're done !

Tom Yum Soup and Pineapple Chicken

Tip: If for some reason your tom yum soup turns out too spicy or sour, just add some Oyster Sauce. I know it sounds weird, but I learnt this from my good friend Den back in Uni. "Oyster sauce fixes everything!", he says.

I Heart Phuket!

2010-01-18T00:26:00.019+08:00

We decided to kick 2010 off with a short trip to Phuket. Now, Phuket's never registered on my radar as a place-I'd-love-to-go though I've always been aware of its existence, nor have I ever been particularly taken with the idea of 'island holidays' - most notably because the islands round here aren't exactly the Maldives, and also because I'm not really into water sports, plus the sun gives me heat rash.

How wrong I was.

Yes, by virtue of its location - within Thailand - Phuket was already three strikes down because I've been conned almost every single time I go to Bangkok. And yes, Phuket isn't exactly the Maldives but it was oh-so-very charming in its own way.

Phuket and I, we fell in love over the course of a 3N/4D adventure.

Pre-Trip Prep

"are you sure we need all that stuff ?! we're only going to Phuket you know... a TOURIST destination, not trekking in the himalayas"

Putting together a first-aid kit, he's cute like that

Mikey the Saint Bernard - armed and ready to go

Day 1

We had to wake at the crack of dawn to catch a 9.25am flight from the Budget Terminal. Check-in was swift and we settled in at Maccas after for a nice, comforting (I always think of Maccas as comfort food) breakfast whilst discussing the silliness (or not) of their recent 12 zodiac Happy Meal giveaway, sans the boar. My brother-in-law said that if they were creative at all they would have nicknamed Cupid (the boar's replacement) 'Cupig' or 'Cutepig'. Quite funny, no ?

Anyway, a short flight later we landed in Phuket. Customs was an excrutiatingly long process, made only a little more bearable by the entertainment provided by a French dude who had some sort of tussle with the customs officers. I did what any Singaporean would do and stared quite undiscreetly while our line inched ever-so-slowly forward.

After exiting customs, we opted for the bus to take us to our hotel. Two reasons, we were on a budget of S$150 each, and we have had many (many many many) bad experiences with Thai taxi drivers.

The bus was a good choice, only 180BHT per person.

En-route

The hotel - we opted for Kata beach instead of Patong

After settling in, it was time to go for lunch. We went round the corner and chanced upon a quaint row of little restaurants, if you could call it that. There were four of them, and we picked one randomly - best choice ever ! The food was extremely affordable (about 400BHT gets you a really decent meal, tips optional) and absolutely delicious !

where we ate, I call it the 'blue signboard restaurant' because it doesn't have a name

Pineapple rice - with real (and very sweet) pineapples !

Chicken omelette

Deep fried morning glory served with sweet chilli and/or plum sauce

Connect 4 seems to be a really popular game there, it was available at all the little Thai eateries we went to. Here's boo strategising. Nice try, but they don't call me the Connect 4 queen for nothing.

We took a walk down to the beach after lunch just to take a look-see, before heading back to the hotel for a dip in the pool. He swam, I literally 'dipped' and then planted myself on one of the lounge chairs with a backdated copy of NW magazine.

For dinner, we walked to Kata centre and decided on an Italian joint. The place is really a European ghetto, I can count on one hand the number of Singaporeans/Malaysians/Hongkies we came across. Everywhere we went we were outnumbered.

So anyway, my point being, Italian might seem like an unusual choice for Phuket, but because of the vast amount of Europeans in Phuket, European/American fare is widely available, and actually very good ! Our pasta dinner was incredibly yummy. The pasta was freshly made, the garlic bread was made with freshly baked baguette, and most importantly, the parmasean they gave me to accompany my pasta was freshly grated ! Not of the powdered variety you get at most restaurants in Singapore. And our whole meal cost only 440BHT.

They even had a real wood-fire oven for the pizza, but I'm not really a pizza fan.

Day 1 ended with me filled and happy.

Day 2

Again, another early morning for our SNUBA session ! SNUBA is basically a cross between snorkelling and scuba diving. You get to dive up to a depth of 7m, whilst being hooked up via a pipe to an oxygen tank that floats on an inflatable platform. It's two people to a platform. I was a little nervous initially about the whole breathing underwater thing, but this was a really great baby step.

The SNUBA raft

By the time we got back to the hotel I had a full-blown heat rash but completely worth it.

For dinner, we decided on somewhere a little more upmarket. We picked Two Chefs after reading some good reviews.

He had steak.

I had salmon.

And that's how we ended Day 2.

Day 3

We decided that Day 3 would be a slow one, after the strenuous (for me anyway) activities of the past couple of days. We had a heavy hotel breakfast (I loveeee hotel breakfasts' !), skipped lunch and spent the day at the beach under a brolly, with coconuts, water and a trashy novel (me).

On the way back from the beach, we had a little tiff - the only blip in our otherwise perfect holiday. It wasn't major, but resulted in about 3 hours where we played 'stony silence interspersed with bits of cordial exchange'.

It wasn't fun.

But there was a bit I find really funny now in retrospect. When we got back to the room, naturally the rules of the game dictated that we should aim to put as much distance between the both of us as possible so I sat on the farthest end of the couch, while he sat on the bed.

Initially, he did the usual channel surfing while I flipped through yet another backdated issue of NW magazine and pretended to ignore him. I'm quite good at it, but he's better.

After about half an hour, American Idol came on. Both of us had been looking forward to catching the debut of the new season so I put down my magazine and watched from my corner in the couch.

He adjusted the air con temperature and it got increasingly cold. I put on a pullover and refused to budge from my corner in an attempt to maintain my pride. But after about 15minutes, I had to get into bed and under the covers. I did however make sure to perch myself as close to the edge of the bed as possible. I suspect he tried to freeze me into bed when he adjusted the temperature. I told you he's good at this.

When it ended, he asked me very cordially if I would like to get dinner. I agreed, and so off we went. Stony silence all the way. We picked another one of those little Thai eateries.

After placing our order, the waitress put the Connect 4 between us. He calmly took it, folded it up and put it away. I pouted inside, but still refused to be the first to make nice. I had hoped we would connect over Connect 4 (pun intended), but he was really letting his stubborn streak rage out in full force - I hate how he's so good at this game.

Finally, when the food came, I could take it no more. I am a Libra and peace-loving by nature, and I didn't want our last night to end that way. So I took down the imaginary barrier and forced myself into his territory, giving him no choice but to look at me adoringly and remember just how cute I was.

After dinner, we went for a long walk around Kata centre.

We had a banana and nutella pancake

And saw the cutest wee elephant. I paid 20BHT to feed him some sugarcane and made him do the same while I went all trigger happy. The elephant actually knew how to pose!

We ended the night watching Hangover - we got a pirated copy from one of the stalls at Kata centre. Only 60BHT.

Day 4

Our last day. We woke up to another huge breakfast in the hotel, followed by lunch at the blue signboard restaurant. The staff were really nice and gave us a packet of biscuits as a going-away gift.

After lunch, we lugged our luggage onto a Tuktuk and headed to Patong to spend some time before going to the airport. Just 3 hours there and we decided that Patong really wasn't our scene. Kata is really so much nicer. It's more laid back and you don't feel like every other stall vendor is trying to con you.

We'll definitely return to Phuket. And next time, we'll rent a motorbike to see more of the island ! Oh, and maybe try para-sailing too !

21 Guns

2009-12-20T12:09:00.002+08:00

I think these few lines of the song are particularly meaningful.

Do you know what's worth fighting for ?

When it's not worth dying for?

......

Does the pain weigh out the pride ?

2009-12-19T23:40:00.002+08:00

It's been awhile since I've written, partly because I've not been bitten by the writing bug, but mostly just because I don't feel I have anything worthwhile to say.

I'm in a mopey mood tonight.

Just one of those down-in-the-dumps kinda moods.

I attended the wedding of a family friend's daughter the day before, and her father wrote her such a lovely speech.

She has done so much to make him proud; going to Oxford and then Harvard for her MBA, securing a great job, and now meeting a great guy who comes from a similarly pedigreed background.

It was a long speech, and pride was literally oozing from every word he spoke.

It made me think.

I thought real hard and I couldn't think of a single thing I have done that would have brought such pride to my parents. I have always been just mediocre, neither academically gifted, nor exceptionally talented in any way. And now, on a mediocre (or perhaps less than) career path.

And despite my mediocrity, tonight I'm feeling so tired from it all.

Isn't that funny ? I haven't done exceptionally well in any aspect of my life, and yet I'm tired.

What from ?

My day as a taitai-in-training

2009-11-24T11:24:00.002+08:00

Got up this morning to the sound of a bleeping phone alarm. Realised it wasn't mine (it's still a revelation each time I realise I'm unemployed and have no need to wake up to go to work), and went back to sleep.

Finally crawled out of bed when I heard the hair dryer going.

It occurred to me that *C had never seen Kaelynn walk (it's quite a new thing for her, and I don't mean 'walk' so much as I mean 'toddle'), so I went downstairs to bundle her up.

I set her gingerly down on the floor, and gestured excitedly to *C to watch her while she toddled over.

He looked at her in half disgust with drool dripping down her chin.

What is it about guys and babies that aren't theirs.

Anyway, a hug and a kiss later and he was off to work.

Me, I crawled back into bed for a wee bit more before getting up.

I'mma gonna take a shower, and then it's off to spend the day a nice chichi-lala day at Rose Veranda with the girls.

We are going to dine, gossip and have tea (they have 102 blends to pick from - free flow !) all afternoon.

Drained

2009-11-20T19:08:00.001+08:00

I'm so tired of the job hunt. I think this is where I shall draw the line.

_________________________________________________*

2009-11-18T17:21:00.003+08:00

I get the feeling that this is to be a poignant turning point in my career.

I'm so afraid of falling short, it's always easier when people don't have much expectations of you, but I suppose there always comes a point when that has to change; else you'll always be stuck in the same ol' rut right ?

Whether I turn left or right, I feel like I'm going to be stepping into big shoes.

So whichever way the cookie crumbles, I think it's time to kick it all into high gear and stop with the cruising (and relatively comfy) journey that I've been on for the past year.

But boo will be there, won't you boo ? To catch me if I fall ?

2009-11-16T19:27:00.002+08:00

I shouldn't have quit. I really shouldn't have.

I'm beyond depressed, and the rain isn't helping.

And I hate the thought of not being in the same office as Colin anymore.

I don't think I'm going to find my way out of this rut of depression.

And the worst part is that a small (but growing) part of me thinks it doesn't bother him because he's too wrapped up in work to notice anything. Plus he's normal, balance and well-adjusted, unlike me.

Officially a B.U.M

2009-11-13T00:26:00.002+08:00

So, I originally thought today (Friday, the 13th) was going to be my last day, but turns out, it's not. It's yesterday (today?), Thursday the 12th - you get my drift.

Why am I not surprised.

It's so surreal, I can't believe that tomorrow, I don't have to wake up and haul my ass off to work.

I won't be able to say things like "working late" or "I don't feel like going into work today" anymore, because there ain't no company I'm accountable to.

It's both daunting and liberating all at the same time.

I told myself I was going to take a break, but naturally, I had to work myself into a frenzy sending out tonnes of resumes - landing myself in a somewhat awkward position now of having to turn down offers that really aren't so suitable and/or has much potential to speak of.

I really should have just kept my fingers to myself. Or maybe busied them playing Bejewelled or something.

Looks like I'm going to have to spend the next couple of days potentially cutting off yet more bridges, while hoping that new ones will form.

I've always been a big believer of fate, of believing that all things eventually find a way of working themselves out.

So I suppose that's what I'm going to have to do now.

Close yet another door - the one with the best offer yet - and hope against hope that I'm making the right decision, for the long haul of course. Strange how it's always about the long haul huh.

For now, I think I just need to breathe, stop hyperventillating and QUIT sending out resumes.

A break might do me good.

Will it ?

Is it time for a KitKat break ?

2009-10-21T21:07:00.002+08:00

I've been trying to take it easy the whole week, telling myself that I needn't and shouldn't be up till all hours scrambling to apply for all sorts of jobs that I might or might not enjoy.

I think the only jobs I haven't actually applied for yet, are those in advertising, but I sense it's just a matter of time.

I know I shouldn't, not just yet anyway, but I can't help it.

I don't like not knowing what I'm doing next, and the thought of taking a break - well to be honest, kind of freaks me out. Even though a 'break' is what I pine for endlessly when I'm at work.

I guess it's true what they say, the grass is always greener on the other side.

But anyway, I'm trying to exercise some self control and not get myself locked into another job that I might potentially hate, 3 months down the road. I think it's something to do with the thrill of the job hunt, getting that call back, going down for the interview and being told that you've been picked, over all others that have also gone through the same process.

Maybe it's just me, but once I submit an application for a job - even if it's one that I don't necessarily think is quite me - all of a sudden, it turns into the most desirable job in the world and I just want to be picked. Sounds like school all over again doesn't it, nobody wants to be the last kid left standing when all others have been picked to join teams.

Picking up a third language is something I've always wanted to do, and I know if I don't do it now, I probably never will.

Now all I need to do is convince and remind myself that not working for the next few months isn't all that bad if I don't manage to find something that I really want to do.

Yup yup yup.

Looney Lunar !

2009-10-20T10:47:00.002+08:00

According to my mom, it's my chinese birthday so I made Cookie wish me Happy Birthday (again!).

The day started good.

I woke up at 845, because I could (normally I wake at 815 at the latest).

And then took my time getting ready, as opposed to rushing, because I could.

Cara came knocking on my door, so I let her in and we spent 5 minutes preening together in front of the mirror before she got taken away for her bath - I think she enjoys my room because I have all sorts of real-girl toys, as opposed to her Elmo's and Piglets.

I finally made it downstairs at 930.

I sat down for my birthday noodles (yellow noodles cooked in a sweet syrupy, ginger sauce topped with longans) with mommy and daddy.

Picked out four lucky numbers for my mom to buy for tomorrow's 4D - apparently the trick is, you have to stand as soon as you've picked out the fourth number, and the person doesn't tell you what the numbers are. So I did - stood and didn't ask about the numbers. I just took my ang bao and said goodbye!

On the way to work, I made Cookie wish me again.

And I finally made it in at 10 to 10 - still earlier than half the office.

I got to my desk, turned on my comp, and another piece of good news awaited in my inbox ! I'm thrilled, I am.

And in another hour, I'm meeting my parents for my birthday lunch at Itacho (at ION).

It's a good day, today.

Hakuna Matata

2009-10-20T01:06:00.001+08:00

What a wonderful phrase

Hakuna Matata

Ain't no passing craze

It means no worries, for the rest of your days

It's our problem-free, philosophy

Hakuna Matata

Ungracious much ?

2009-10-19T19:49:00.004+08:00

I left work on the dot at 6 today, and headed to the bus stop.

Got on the bus and managed to get a seat - "great !", I thought. Now I can spend the journey home buried in the latest Sophie Kinsella book that Cookie got me, as opposed to staring curiously at the people around me, whilst trying to make it seem that I was really staring into mid-air.

But being rush hour, the bus filled up fast. There was a lady who looked to be in her 20s standing somewhat in front of me, her arm holding onto the pole to my right, allowing me a birds-eye view of her armpit (I'm kidding, she was wearing a sleeved top, so it wasn't direct eye-to-armpit contact).

Anyway, two stops later I found myself eye-to-chest with this old lady. So naturally, I put away my book and gave the seat up to her.

She thanked me and eased into the seat.

She got off before I did, and thanked me again as she was getting off and told me to take the seat.

I smiled at her but before I had a chance to do anything else, who swoops in to plonk herself on the seat but armpit woman - clearly aware that it was I who had vacated said seat.

I found that incredibly rude.

But because I was getting off a couple of stops later, I decided to let it go and instead got my phone out to occupy myself with typing Cookie a text on the rudeness of this woman.

You think ?

2009-10-19T12:39:00.003+08:00

I spent the weekend pondering over my options.

1. Go back to Melbourne to do an MBA
2. Go to the US to do an MBA
3. Pursue writing as a career
4. Just take time off to do nothing (by nothing I mean yoga and property)
5. Go to Japan to learn Japanese
6. Find a job, not in advertising
7. Find a job in advertising and continue bitching about it all over again (after all, it's the only industry I've ever worked in, and might I add, one I absolutely killed myself to get into)

With the above in no particular order, I suppose next steps would be organising them in order of priority, and perhaps eliminating a few of them.

My sister never fails to take any opportunity to remind me of the 'bleak times' we live in, but I refuse to be swayed by her opinions. She suffers from the elder-sister syndrome, and feels a need to critique as a means of showing affection so I forgive her all that.

My mother, who might I add, has never worked a day in her life, too rejoices in dishing out unsolicited advice. And let me qualify the above by saying that she's never had an office job - not of course, that I'm insinuating that running a household is not considered work because in a court of law, it's held up as perfectly legit work.

Anyway, my point is this.

It is my life, and therefore should be, my choices.

I don't think that I receive advice ungraciously, but I can't help feeling a little riled up when I'm hit with it at any opportunity. So maybe it's true. Maybe my angst over the past months have boiled over and turned me into one of them know-it-alls who refuses to listen to the better judgement of anyone else.

Just call me Little Miss Know-It-All.

What's next ?

2009-10-15T14:28:00.002+08:00

I did it.

With no plans to speak of next.

I'm feeling both scared and excited all at the same time - scared because I'm afraid that my career has gone to shit, but excited because it's the dawn of a new era (though I'm not quite sure yet what that new era is).

So what's next ?

Who will I be ?

How will my life turn out ?

Your guess is as good as mine.

2009-09-30T23:43:00.001+08:00

I've cried my eyes out, and they're now swollen as ping pong balls.

What next ?

2009-09-30T17:36:00.003+08:00

Today, with reason, I am feeling well and truly lost.

I'm not sure why or how I got so emotional about the news, but I did, and I cried.

I'm afraid now of what lies ahead.

2009-09-29T11:12:00.002+08:00

I logged on to Facebook about ten minutes ago, and the amount of 'Happy Birthday' messages I saw on my wall kinda threw me off.

It was all so very surreal getting well wishes from people I don't normally speak to - some I haven't seen for as long as ten years! - and for someone like me who shuns excessive social contact, it was unnerving.

I didn't know what to do, so I logged off.

I never know how to respond to outpourings of care/concern, especially when I'm the recipient. I think I'm awkward with emotions like that. And this is ironic coming from me, who wants a big wedding where everyone gathers to celebrate my love.

But then there are other more intimate gestures which dont' scare me as much, but rather, they make me feel undeserving.

I got a text message at the stroke of midnight on my birthday, it was from a secondary school friend I have bumped into just once (a few months back on the bus), since 2000. She has apparently been sending me these text messages every year - but she'd been sending them to my old number previously, which explained why I never received any of them.

I also received a bouquet of flowers at 930 in the morning from a dear old friend from my Uni days in Melbourne.

I haven't kept much in touch with either of the two above people, but their kind gestures made me want to burst out in tears.

And then of course I had a thoroughly lovely day with boo. His level of attentiveness to detail never fails to touch me to the cockles of my heart. So thank you baby !

But I'm detracting from what I originally wanted to write about.

Seeing those messages on Facebook made me wonder about mortality. If tomorrow I were to die a sudden death, I'm sure I'd get those same number of messages, if not more on my Facebook page. Making it seem as if I was a well-loved person, when really, that couldn't be further from the truth because I don't like socialising. In fact, I hate it when people get to close - aside from a select few of course.

This is nonsensical babble.

I need to get back to work.

2009-09-13T14:22:00.004+08:00

Yesterday night as I was driving home at half past midnight, I had another case of the missing-Melbourne.

I really do miss the place.

I'm not sure exactly what it is about Melbourne that I miss all the time, I definitely spent some of the most lonely and miserable nights of my life there, but still I miss it.

It'll always be my first home away from home.

And I'd really like to go back and see how she is.

In other news, also on my drive back, I couldn't help thinking about my job as well, and what I was planning to do if the talk (when/if it happens) didn't turn out the way I wanted it to.

I thought I had it all figured out, but now I'm not so sure.

A little (alright a large) part of me still believes in karma, happily-ever-afters and the Just World theory. That if I stick with it, and ride through the inevitable bumps of the first few years, things will eventually work out.

"If I just breathe, let it feel the space between, I'll know everything is alright, breath" - Michelle Branch

2009-09-09T21:16:00.002+08:00

Well, it's wednesday and still nothing.

I guess monday didn't turn out to be so defining after all.

I'm disappointed things haven't progressed, and because patience is not a virtue of mine, I'm not sure how much longer I can sit still and wait.

I need an answer.

I need to know.

Now. If possible.

Please ?

2009-09-04T17:15:00.001+08:00

Monday is going to be defining.

I think.

2009-09-01T11:12:00.001+08:00

People always say life is full of choices
No one ever mentions fear
Or how the road can seem so long
How the world can seem so vast
Courage see me through
Heart I'm trusting you

Going off.

2009-08-28T21:52:00.002+08:00

Hi baby,

I decided to do an update on the off-chance that you'd check tonight.

I'm through customs, and waiting to board the plane - as usual, they're running slightly behind, as they always seem to do with budget airlines.

Thanks for coming down with me to the airport even though you were pooped beyond words - you didn't say it, but I could see it in your eyes.

I thought it was particularly cute how you wanted to say you'd miss me, and that you're worried about me going off on my own, but didn't quite want to say it out loud - and direct. Instead, it came out in random lines like "maybe you'll miss your flight".

Truth be told, I like it when you worry sometimes, because you so often maintain a neutral disposition. I suspect that's why I poke you sometimes - you know, just to elicit a reaction, of the emotional variety of course.

Anyway, I am worried about cabbing around on my own there given our bad experiences of getting conned and blackmailed - really, it's such a lawless place! But I'm going to be brave about it, and use it as "training".

After all, if I can't survive cabbing around Bangkok, how am I going to survive our future back-packing plans right !

It's 9,59pm, and they've finally announced that we can board.

I'm going to log off now.

Will text you when I land. And call you when I make it in one piece to the hotel.

Love you.

Sweet dreams.

*pecks you on the forehead*

2009-08-15T15:21:00.002+08:00

Reporting live from C3 (Cookie Central Command).

I've been checking my Facebook page quite obsessively the past couple of days, and I can't decide if I like being part of this hyper-connected clique, or not.

On the one hand, it feels nice to be in touch and reconnecting with friends I haven't spoken to in awhile. But on the other, it feels just a little tedious to keep up with conversations when they're happening all over the place, and you have to check on multiple fronts. Plus I'm not a seasoned user, so I find it hard to keep up with the buttons.

Just looking through the pages of friends and relllies I haven't seen in awhile, I'm amazed at just how differently (though not entirely bad) all of us have turned out. It's surreal when you think about it really. But I guess we've all grown up.

Tomorrow's my 2nd half marathon, and I'm really excited. The only part I'm not looking forward to, is waking up before the crack of dawn, and figuring out the best way to get there. My place is part of the race route, so it's going to take lots of artful dodging to figure out a route to the start point.

Buying tickets online

2009-08-14T18:52:00.003+08:00

I went onto the GV website this afternoon to buy tickets for GI Joe. Alas, I got stuck twice at the screen that tells you not to "close or refresh the page".

I haven't bought tickets from GV in a long time - Cathay and Film Garde being my usual haunts these days - but I remember a time when their sites were THE benchmark in cinema sites. Just when did they get so horrid.

Anyway, because I was alone at lunch, and had some time on my hands, I decided to go down to Plaza Sing to get the tickets in person instead - can't remember the last time I did that.

Oh wait I do. Last year, when my sister bought me GV Grand ticket vouchers for my birthday - you should never buy anyone tickets that they cannot use online. I kept it till the day of expiry and ended up having to sit in the first row, watching Australia (a very long movie) from a terribly uncomfortable angle (neck almost at 180degrees).

You know, I have this belief in the Just World theory, and so I always tell myself that good things come to those who wait. I also believe in karma, and abiding by the rules. And unicorns. And advertisements. So I'm probably a nut job.

But like I was saying, there I was, standing in line, thinking to myself what a refreshing change this is. I waited for about 15minutes before it was my turn. I bounced up to the lady and told her that I'd like 2 tickets.

She looked at me and said "5th row from the back".

"urm, ok", I responded meekly.

I paid up, with no inkling how many rows from the front, 5th row from the back was. Took my tickets and went back to the office.

I then went to the site again to see where exactly my seat was in the cinema - and turns out, there were actually more seats nearer the back, but 5th row from the back wasn't too bad, so I guess that was fine, even though it wasn't my preferred.

To save a $1 for the agony of not knowing where your place in the cinema is, is truly not worth the trade off.

You would think (or so I thought), that you'd get better options turning up in person, as opposed to making a purchase online, no ? I mean, I actually WAITED in line. Does that not warrant anything in this just world ?

But whatever.

Never again.

I'm slowly learning it isn't such a just world after all. And that I should take advantage of the little things, where I can. Accidentally got charged less at a store for an item ? Just take it. You won't get rewarded for pointing out the error. These 'accidents' in your favour is the world's way of rewarding you, so enjoy it.

SBR - 160809

2009-08-13T16:12:00.003+08:00

So, I can't believe how quickly time has ticked by.

The Safra Bay Run is this Sunday - flagoff time, 0530 hours at Esplanade Drive.

Did you know, all this time when I was reading about it, I was under the impression that Sheares Bridge (the Sheares Bridge Run is what this used to be called) was the bridge just after the Suntec portion of the Nicholl highway. I drive down that stretch often enough to feel comfortable running it, so it didn't occur to me to check the race route till a couple of days ago.

And holy crap !

Turns out, Sheares Bridge as I know it, isn't actually the bridge on Nicholl highway. It's the ECP ! It starts at Esplanade drive, which means a steep climb up the bridge. *gulps*

I've mostly run on flat ground so I'm wondering just how much of me the upward climb is going to take.

On the bright side, at least I know now so I don't get a rude shock on the day. Besides, it's the first leg of the run so maybe it won't be so bad.

This is going to be my second half marathon, and I'm aiming to beat the time that I clocked for the Stanchart Marathon last year.

And as a 'seasoned' (yes, 1 half marathon and a 10km maketh a 'seasoned' runner in my books - what can I say, I live by standards different to the rest of the world) runner, this is what I know now.

1. Don't try to take public transport there - it's too god damn early. Even the trains aren't running.

2. Get there early so you have time to figure out where the hell the elusive bag deposit is located - and also so you don't realise too late that you have no idea where the actual start point is, and are still plodding across mud (running season always seems to coincide with the rainy season, so the ground is almost always muddy) when the gun goes.

3. A water belt is very handy - for girls, bring a man, so he can strap it on. Me, I just don't like being bogged down by things when I run so said man comes in useful for offloading stuff to. Thirsty, just hold out your hand and he hands you one of the little tumblers from his waterbelt. Sick of your ishuffle, just take it out and hand it over to the man to store in the little empty pocket of his waterbelt (earphones too, so you don't have them flying about your person, sticking to your chest or swatting your face as you bounce along). Need a little sugar boost ? Swat him on the arm and expect him to understand that you want to be fed the little gummy candies in his pocket.

4. Bring a change of clothes and flip-flops to change into post-run, so you can lounge in relative comfort in the blazing heat, whilst above-mentioned man runs around trying to get you a bottle of 100plus from one of the confusingly laid out tents.

5. Take your race bib out of the bag BEFORE depositing it. And after you take it out, hold on to it, and remember that you're holding on to it. I have a tendency to hold on to things, and then forget that I'm holding on to them so I let go without even realising it, till it's too late. Last year, I had to retrace my steps after going into a mini-hissy fit just before the run.

6. You know how I said don't attempt to take public transport there, well, turns out, you shouldn't attempt to drive there either unless you want to be first, stuck in a jam, and second, circling the area looking for parking - a close-to-impossible feat. Plus, who has the energy to drive home after the excruciating run anyway. The best way to get to a run is to badger a parent (or friend) into sending you there, and of course, pick you up after too.

7. Pee at home before the run because you don't want to end up waiting 20minutes for a gross porta-loo whilst trying to navigate tens of thousands of people who are making their way to the start line. Even worse if the urge comes mid-run and you're standing there, watching time tick by whilst runners throng on by.

Those are my 7 tips.

2009-08-10T23:29:00.002+08:00

I was just looking through some old Facebook photos I got tagged on, and I think I've aged a lot in the past couple of years.

Growing up, or should I say growing old, is a scary process both physically, and mentally. Your skin starts to sag, your brain starts to slow down.

And then one day you catch yourself wondering, if you've made it anywhere in life..at all ?

That question haunts me almost daily. Twice, on a bad day.

Is this how it's meant to start out ? Slow cruising in the first few years, and then big giant leaps ahead before you hit a plateau sometime in your mid 40s ? Because at the rate I'm going, I'm not sure it feels like I'm going anywhere at all.

Often I wonder, how is it that people are able to afford the things they can.

What is it that they do for a living ? And how did they get there ?

How hard do they slog, and do they really love their jobs/lives ?

Each time I drive home, I go past rows of shiny new houses with mercs, bimmers, audis and even a few lambos parked proudly out front.

Then I think of myself, and my job, and I know, I'll never be able to afford a house here if I keep doing what I'm doing.

But then I think of monkeypants. And I know, that a comfy abode is all we need. Bananas optional.

Pushing 30 now.

Better catch up on my twenty winks so I'm rested to continue climbing this very very steep corporate ladder tomorrow.

Night !

Happy Birthday Baby !

2009-08-04T23:07:00.002+08:00

Tomorrow, my niece Kaelynn turns 1, and we're celebrating with a family dinner at Tetsuya. She'll probably be gorging her face with a tumbler full of porridge the way she normally does, followed by a container of banana puffs.

It's no easy feat maintaining her weight in the top 97th percentile of her age group after all, one has to work hard at stuffing one's face all the time. And I know from personal experience (the stuffing, not the 97th percentile - that status has strangely eluded me thus far) that that's tough. Your mouth gets all achy from the chewing.

But then again, she is eating porridge and a myriad of other melt-in-your-mouth type foods because she's not really able to use her pea-sized teeth yet, so I guess it doesn't ache all that much.

What I really want to say though is, you've grown so quickly baby Kaelynn and are turning into such a pretty little bub. I love how your dimples show when you smile, and the way you're learning to do little things like wave, clap and touch your little grubby finger to my nose - sure, it's still very hit and miss with you at this point, with the wave, clap and touching of the nose, you only seem to respond to it one out of every ten times - but still, I'm really loving watching you learn and grow.

Happy birthday baby !

And just for you, I'm going to eat all the things that you can't eat yet tomorrow at dinner.

He tickles me so.

2009-08-03T22:29:00.003+08:00

So today I met the boyfriend at the lift landing to go for lunch and he said "hey baby guess what!" (bouncing, like the little MSN icon on macs do when you get a new message).

"What ?", I asked.

"We have a new colleague! You know, that girl, used to work on KrisFlyer, her, that girl!"

And there I was, looking at him strange because this is coming from him - him who worked on KrisFlyer for more than two years. Between the two of us, if you had to ask either of us about the people who worked on KrisFlyer, you would ask him.

"Which girl ? L, Y ? Who ?"

"You know, you know her !"

Still looking at him strange. "No, I don't believe I do."

"Yes yes you do, you do !", like a bunny on steroids.

Recognition dawning on me, as I recall this girl, let's call her R, who he used to mention working with before I joined the agency.

Now let me just say, he wasn't the best of friends with her but they were alright. They worked together. And he mentioned her in conversations occasionally. He even went for her farewell dinner, I saw pictures on Facebook ! And all this time, whenever he mentions her, he always calls her by her name - R. So it would only be natural for me to assume that he knows her name, no ?

But he did the strangest thing.

He turned to me as I said "do you mean R?", and responded "oh, is that her name ??".

So I looked at him strange again. "Yes", I responded slowly. "I believe that would be her name, as told to me by you."

"No, no, but I don't know her name, I'm not sure what her name is" he insists, at which point he picks up the phone to call one of our ex-colleagues, F. He rambles on with her for a bit, asking if her name was indeed R.

And all this time, I was just walking alongside him thinking "What !?".

Like seriously.

I don't know this girl. Never met her before. I know of her through you. You talk about her once in awhile. Have pictures with her on Facebook, and then you decide that though you always refer to her as R, you're not really sure what her name is ?

He boggles me, he really does.

The night before, we dropped by Cold Storage after dinner so I could browse - I love supermarkets. We wandered over to the section selling face products because he wanted to get a face wash.

He stood there dallying for awhile, wondering out loud why the hell there were at least 3 different variations of face wash from one brand alone - "What is the difference between gel, foam and this exfoliating thing?".

So I explained to him what each did, whilst he stood there looking increasingly confused with a bottle in each hand.

After a bit, I picked up a bottle of Men's Biore wash and said "how about this?"

He responded in all seriousness, "oh no, I can't get that. Do you know, they do animal testing ? They skin rabbits to test on them" and then he goes back to peering at the bottles he had in his hands.

At that point I just felt like squishing him. I mean it doesn't even occur to me to think of things like that consciously - and if you knew us, you'd definitely have me pegged as the more environmental conscious of the two of us.

It was just a tiny moment, but it's precisely tiny random moments like that that tug at my heart strings.

My man really, he's just a wee boy at heart.

Inspired.

2009-06-07T04:54:00.003+08:00

So I was just reading this girl's blog, where there was a video of one of my ex-colleague's boyfriend finishing up the 84km adidas sundown ultra marathon.

All through his race she was there, right behind him, on her bike.

She came here with him from Germany awhile back, and just watching her follow him on her bike is truly inspirational.

You can practically feel the love emanating from the video - and I'm sure they're going to have their happily ever after.

Anyway, they've definitely inspired me.

10km adidas sundown marathon - done !

next up - 21km Safra Bay Run in August.

Time to start training again.

"pain is temporary, quitting is forever" - so she quotes.

Totally.

You know why I started getting excited about taking part in marathons ? Because it was something that I could be proud of. My work (long hours, measly pay) often makes me question my choices, and I can't escape the feeling that I've come so far, only to be so mediocre in life.

But when I take part in marathons (granted it's only been two), there's a sense of achievement and satisfaction - something that I don't often derive from other aspects of my life.

Pushing through that feeling when I'm halfway through a run thinking about giving up, and knowing that I'm going to finish this no matter how long it takes is an incredible feeling.

And just like that, it makes me feel like maybe I'm not such a complete failure in life.

Maybe I should have studied harder back in school, and maybe I should have selected a different major in uni, and maybe I should have pursued a different career path, I don't know, but all I know is that inertia is keeping me from trying something different. As much as I think my job isn't all that satisfying, I know I'd also hate the feeling of switching careers and having to start from the bottom all over again. And I'd hate even more, the feeling of knowing that I never even got very far in this career before giving up.

New beginnings.

2009-05-28T21:48:00.002+08:00

Today I closed a chapter in my life, but as with all things - this ending is followed by a new beginning.

I'm truly grateful for the friends I've made in this place - that's right, friends, not just colleagues - and I'm touched that they bothered to put together a 'farewell TBWA game' just for me.

I'm really going to miss the agency, and all the people that I've come to know and love\hate (you know the feeling, it's a love\hate relationship).

Now it's time to get out there and experience all the incredible things, life has to offer.

'go'.

(this 'go' campaign will haunt me for a long time to come, especially since my farewell card and game was all centered around it).

But all the same, I love the brand. I've loved it from the first day I started work on it a little under 2 years ago. It is afterall, the universal currency of life.

It truly is.

2009-05-24T23:56:00.004+08:00

I used to think that there was so much I wanted to do with my life.

I wanted to fly high, and see lots. I wanted to travel the world, live in a big city, and have a kickass career. Maybe own my own business.

And the voyeur in me only made it so much worse - it used to be blog surfing, these days it's Facebook. I'd often look at pictures of people's fabulous lives of parties and booze, supplemented by their high-flying 'banking' jobs and whatnot, and I'd wonder to myself how I got to be so medicore in life.

But tonight, as I'm tossing in bed and unable to get to sleep, I'm inclined to look at it from a different point of view.

I'm not sure that this is really what I want in life.

And as a matter of fact, I'm not sure what I want at all.

What's becoming slowly apparent is my envy these days stem not from looking at the pictures of people who seem to have it all - the beautiful, eloquent, rich ones who mix with other beautiful, eloquent rich ones. But rather, the ones who radiate true happiness in their pictures. The ones who don't let their lives be ruled by labels and looks.

I envy people who are natural 'people-persons'. I used to be like that, but it was oh-so-long ago.

I love to death my girls, but just sometimes, I wonder what it'd be like to have a slightly larger group to do things with.

I think I'm rambling, and I'm not at all sure what I'm trying to get at.

Like everyone else, I'm just trying to make my way in life. Figuring out who I am, and where I fit in. And I can only hope that the person I'm growing into, isn't someone I'll come to resent one day, much further down the line.

Good night world.

adidas Sundown Marathon: 13 days to go

2009-05-17T12:36:00.005+08:00

And just like that, we're close to finishing up the first half of the year.

It seems like forever ago that I signed up for the adidas Sundown Marathon, and now there's less than 2 weeks to go.

I keep telling myself I'll survive the run. Of course I will.

"I can, I will." - taken from the staff training manual of a certain airline that the boy's working on at the moment, this line just absolutely cracks me up.

And if I can't, "I will say 'no' the 'yes' way".

Whatever does it mean anyway.

Ever since my brother-in-law learnt how to upload songs to his iPod, it's been a early-90s Mandarin/Cantonese song marathon every weekend when I go over to play mahjong. Think Emil Chau and Jacky Cheung.

For some reason, that era of songs always make me a little melancholy. Or maybe it's just Chinese songs in general - very emo.

One of the songs I've particularly taken to is 'Feng Yu Wu Zu' by Emil Chau.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9b4Pnpbx4Q&feature=related

Saturday musings.

2009-05-16T13:58:00.002+08:00

It looks all bright and cheery out today, you almost can't tell that it was pouring just half an hour ago.

I know I should be a little more excited with a new job coming up, but I can't help feeling drained by my current still, even though there's only 2 more weeks of it to go.

I want to get myself a new notebook to start a new chapter in my life. I think that's what I'll do.

And a new macbook too while I'm at it - I wish.

Melbourne

2009-04-23T23:21:00.002+08:00

Was doing some random blog surfing whilst waiting for my nails to dry.

Came across a blog.

A girl's going to Melbourne for a holiday, and she asked for people to leave comments on where to go, and what to do there.

I read through the comments, and oh how I miss the place.

It was truly my first home away from home, and the place where I did most of my growing up.

I developed a better relationship with my parents, and learnt to appreciate the notion of family that little bit more.

I learnt to drive, and got my very first car - my baby giant.

I learnt to use the washing machine, and the rice cooker (I can cook, I just never had to use a rice cooker before Melbourne and that ain't my fault - my mother is a blast from the past. Still uses a crock pot to cook rice and charcoal to boil soup.).

I learnt that non-electric kettles, should never be left on the fire, in the apartment, whilst you go downstairs to get the mail/take your rubbish out to the chute - I had self-locking doors and because I lived alone, it was A$150 every single bloody time I let the door close on me. I remember many a-time just standing outside my door, hearing the kettle whistle whilst waiting for the locksmith to arrive with my fingers crossed, hoping the apartment wouldn't get burnt down.

Luckily it never did.

I learnt that dishes pile up in the sink really quickly.

I learnt not to put all my clothes in the dryer - most of my pants became three-quarts, and my tees - mid-rift baring little things.

I know now some things can be put in the dryers, and others can't.

I learnt that statistics suck - you know how there's always a margin of error that's allowed on production ? My washing machine was in that margin of error and more than once, did it end up flooding my toilet.

And the repair guy's explanation - "these things happen, margin of error".

I never felt more lonely and alone than I did when I was there, but I wouldn't swap it for anything else.

It's where I learnt to fend for myself.

It's where I got to know myself.

And it's where I really grew up.

I miss the place.

I miss going to Coles in the middle of the night, and picking out my favourite toilet paper. I miss Mondays at Coles - that's when all the tabloids came out (NW was my favourite, but I don't buy them in Singapore - too expensive). I miss not buying grapes because they cost $14.75/kg. I miss buying rocket leaves for $1.99. I miss the South Melbourne market, and the Sweetheart cafe across the road. I miss the Yarra river. I miss walking along Southgate. I miss going to Crown. I miss hearing the fire roar at the head of every hour. I miss driving along King Albert Park towards St Kilda's beach. I miss watching the sunset from King Albert Park on the way home from school - I always turned off to take that route, rather than the 'faster' straight route (according to Jem - though I think my way's more scenic, and it feels faster to me). I miss pumping petrol once every fortnight - and challenging myself to see how long I could go without having to pump petrol. I miss always having my moonroof exposed so that the car would always be filled with a little ray of sunshine/moonlight. I miss driving to Chadstone, and popping into Peter Alexander followed by CottonOn. I miss the instant noodles from the Dessert Cafe in Chinatown. I miss garlic steamed oysters from Pacific House in Richmond. I miss the sushi rolls from SushiSushi. I miss walking to the city on my own, and just strolling through all the 'little' streets (I say 'little' because every other street is 'little x' - so for example it's Bourke Street, then little Bourke street, then Lonsdale, then little lonsdale - but they really are little, so maybe that's what inspired the names) and exploring the eclectic mix of shops that are hidden there. I miss the Vietnamese beef noodles. I miss cooking minced beef every possible way. I miss frying my rice with luncheon meat, egg and apples (yes apples, it's yummy - or at least I think so). I miss Australian rice - it's the short, fat-grained type rice, just like Japanese rice. I miss the peace and tranquility of life there. I miss the anonymity of life there.

And most of all, I miss not feeling like I'm being scrutinised by the type of car I drive, what I'm wearing, where I'm staying or what brand bag I'm carrying.

I miss how everyone is making their own way in life there - you can get a full time job. Or not. You can just work at Coles if that makes you happy.

Either way, you'll survive a decent life.

And that's the most important lesson I learnt there - that your life is a series of choices that you make and you should do what makes you happy because at the end of the day, no one's going to live your life but you.

So don't let others make you feel small, and don't let yourself be judged by the image of others.

Just be a little more oblivious, look in the mirror 2 times less a day and just be happy to be who you are.

go home now little pigeon

2009-04-20T20:27:00.003+08:00

Update
Ok, so I didn't go running. oops. Wednesday, I promise !!

Original Post
We did our first semi-real run/jog/walk yesterday evening, since the Stanchart Marathon waaay waaay back in December.

Needless to say, it left me completely pooped beyond pooped.

I left work a little after 6pm, with the intention of going on another such run - no time to waste, the Sundown Marathon is coming up in a little over a month.

It's 830pm now, and I'm still on my bed, watching Weeds.

This absolutely will not do.

In 20minutes, I'm going to pluck my lazy behind off my bed, change into my shorts and tee and go for a run/jog.walk.

Perseverence !

Sweets for my sweet.

2009-04-19T03:13:00.001+08:00

I've been having lots of cravings for sweet stuff lately, and that's pretty strange because sweet stuff usually makes me want to hurl - personally, I prefer savoury stuff (like cheese, parma ham).

A nice tub of Haagen-dazs chocolate ice-cream right now would be perfect.

:(

Bangkok!

2009-04-15T22:11:00.003+08:00

So just like that, my 4 + 5 (weekends + the Good Friday holiday) days of blissful R&R is over. Where did it all go ?

Let's see.

The last Friday before we went off was hectic.

First there was the handover at work, and then sending out tonnes off emails to ensure (well, to whatever degree I can ensure it anyway) that the wheels kept spinning whilst I was away (because apparently, time waits for no man and work still needs to be done whether you're happily away on holiday, or sick in bed).

But finally, I sent out my last email, turned on my 'Out of Office' notice and was done.

We went over to his place.

Packed for ages, because he wanted to bring EVERYTHING ! Not that I'm complaining. The Zambuk (used it the very first night, after getting bitten half to death at the restaurant where we got conned - but that's another story), flu meds (for him) and Poh Chai Yin (for him again) were put to good use.

By the time we got back to my place to pack, it was almost midnight and I just wanted to crawl into bed. But alas, no such pleasure because we had to be at the airport at some unearthly hour (8am I think it was) the very next morning.

So I packed.

Yup I did.

Everything nicely into a wee little wheely bag.

Said 'wee little wheely bag' of course wasn't able to accommodate my 4 full days worth of shopping of course but thankfully he had the foresight to bring along his huge bag.

Secretly, I knew all along my shopping was never going to fit into the 'wee little wheely bag' (are you kidding, it's BANGKOK ! Home of the mythical Chatuchak market where everything supposedly costs $2 - you know how it is whenever you buy something at FEP, and people tell you "in Bangkok, it's only $2!". So anyway, we found out it cost closer to $10, but hey, still a bargain!), but I knew he was bringing the bigger bag and that I was going to hijack the space, and that he would never deny me - so we were all good to go !

We got to the airport bright and early. Checked in, had a quick Maccas breakfast and were in Bangkok in a blink of an eye.

The trip was completely awesome - I did things I never would have done before. We took the train, and even the bus where we were crammed to within an inch of our lives but I lived to tell the tale. Buses there are amazing. They have bus conductor ladies who squeeze in and out of the throngs of people collecting the fare, and unlike the buses here in Singapore - the buses continue driving with the doors open, as people run after and hop on to the bus.

It's all very fluid.

We got lost after we got off the bus, and we walked in the rain for an hour whilst my legs got splattered with mud and leaves. And all the while, he's carrying a backpack full of my shopping without a single word of complaint.

There wasn't even so much as an "I told you so" when I insisted that we were walking in the right direction, and wouldn't listen to him, or agree to hop into a cab/tuktuk.

He told me later when we got back to the hotel that I looked so absolutely determined to 'rough it' and figure out the way (we've been talking about me learning to 'rough it' so he can take me backpacking) that he couldn't bear to spoil my fun, so he just let me lead the way.

I love him for being patient with me, the way he is.

Perseverence is key.

2009-03-25T09:29:00.002+08:00

I feel like I'm going round the mulberry bush here. Are these 'instructions' the first line of defence to weed out the insincere, and the ones who are incapable of following up on simple instructions ?

Maybe it is.

But regardless, sending you another email in the 3rd week of May and then following up again in the summer ?

I can do all of that.

Like I said, perseverence is key.

Xiao jie na wu mao lai.

2009-03-02T22:42:00.003+08:00

This afternoon, the boyfriend and I decided to have wanton mee for lunch.

He's running for MP, so I let him place our orders and do his usual outrageous flirting with the auntie (he thrives on it).

The noodles cost $3 each, but he decided that we should have more veggies coz the government says it's good for us. So we added a $1 of veggie each.

The total came up to $8.40 - 20cents (each) additional for the plastic container.

Fair enough (no boo, you can't use it to deflect conversation and make me believe you're listening when you're not).

After handing over $8.40 to the auntie, he went off to buy something else, leaving me to collect the noodles.

Mid-way whilst packing, the auntie says to me, "xiao jie na wu mao lai.".

Me: *thinking she can't be talking to me, just ignores her*
Auntie: *persists in an irritated tone* xiao jie na wu mao lai!
Me: *stunned, and just hands over the money meekly, all the while wondering why*
Auntie: *doesn't offer any explanation. hands me my noodles and dismisses me*
Me: *walks off confused*

I spent most of lunch trying to figure out what the additional 50cents was for - but you know what, I can only conclude that I was cheated because I have absolutely not a clue what else I'd need to pay for.

So much for standing up for my rights, and not being 'cheated' - referring to the post before last on our cinema 'incident' with the chick who didn't have change.

Oh well.

Side note: Went to the Chinese sinseh today and got stabbed and jabbed all over. I'm aching so badly I don't think I'll ever walk again. :(

The weekend.

2009-03-01T14:17:00.002+08:00

The weekend got off to a rocky start on Friday evening when I (me, myself) decided that we (myself and him) were warring.

It ended in a hurtful truth session, where he went on a verbal rampage and spilled his guts. Each statement more cutting than the next.

But still, I'm glad he did what he did because at the end of the day, we're only human (both him and I) - with very real feelings.

I think this is the start of a new chapter :)

Side note: Sushi attempt 2 - failed.

A sulk.

2009-02-23T23:20:00.003+08:00

Yesterday, the boy and I (and by that I do mean 'us'. he's not whipped, he just enjoys his chick flicks. the same way he likes filing his nails.) caught He's Just Not That Into You.

Loved it !

And I teared (sobbed silently) - at this particular scene when Ben Affleck proposed to Jennifer Aniston. It was too sweet for words.

First he didn't want to get married because he didn't believe in the institution of marriage. He just wanted to be with her. But she wanted to get married, and so gave him an ultimatum.

They split up.

Her father got a stroke. He was there for her. And that's when she realised that despite it all, she did love him and all she really wanted, was just to be with him - married or not.

She told him so. And they got back together.

A day later - he proposes.

He said to her, (I can't remember word for word, but it went something along these lines) "I realised that the only way for me to even have a chance in hell of being happy, is for you to be happy. So will you marry me?" - I think I completely melted at this juncture. I can only say, I'm glad I was wearing waterproof mascara.

Anyway, coming back to the title of this entry - I had a sulk before the movie.

This is what happened.

The boyfriend had a package voucher he redeemed with his M1 points. The voucher entitles you to two movie tickets, and a $1 off a combo package.

We queued at the box office downstairs for about 20minutes, before reaching our turn. We then waited another 10minutes whilst the counter dude walkie-talkied with his colleague upstairs, trying to figure out how to process the order. He finally gave up and sent us upstairs.

So upstairs we went - via the elevator, not actual stairs (they don't have stairs at The Cathay, or not any that we bothered to find/climb). We queued up again at the counter upstairs for about 10minutes. Girl at the counter too couldn't figure out which buttons to press, so she called a colleague over to help.

After giving us our tickets, she sent us on our way but I said that I'd like to get the $1-off voucher - thinking that it'd be literally that, a voucher that we could then take to the popcorn counter to use, should we decide to do so later.

She couldn't figure it out, and had to call another colleague over to help.

After some fiddling of the buttons, they figured it out and asked us for $5.80. At this point, I hadn't decided if I wanted the popcorn combo and so I said (whilst she was still fiddling round with the buttons - not sure why since she already told us the price) "you know what, it's ok. I don't think I really want it.".

At this point, the boyfriend stepped in and said "it's ok, we'll take it".

To which I replied, "but you don't even want it. so why are you taking it?"

him: it's ok. let's just take it alright?
me: alright fine
him: *hands over $6*
me: *standing aside feeling annoyed for some reason*
counter girl: i'm sorry, i don't have change
him: *feels around in his pocket for change, doesn't find any*
him: you know what, it's ok. keep the change (20cents)
me: *feeling inreasingly annoyed*

us: *walks away from the counter with me building up to a full blown sulk*

him: *continues telling me some happy story about his army days, oblivious to the brewing storm*
me: *kinda ignoring him, whilst seething in my head and replaying the scene over and over in my mind, getting increasingly pissed off whilst doing so*
him: are you ok boo ?
me: *lashes out - this doesn't end till a good half hour later when i cool down after being placated with two cheese buns from BreadTalk*

I know it was only 20 cents, and I know he was just trying to be nice to the poor counter girl, fumbling with those stupid buttons.

But it just pissed the shit out of me.

Firstly, they're in the bloody retail business - it's their job to have change. How can you run a retail business and not have change - do you expect all your customers to tell you to keep the change ? Secondly, I didn't feel the least bit sympathetic towards her - we weren't mean or nasty. In fact, I was smiley and nice about the whole thing (up until I got pissed off) so why should I be obligated to buy something I don't really want, just to make her life a little easier - it's her god damn job.

In the past two years since I've started working in advertising, I've become increasingly unsympathetic towards people in the service/retail industry who don't seem to have a clue doing what they're (meant to be) doing (why companies don't instill proper training programmes is just beyond me, given that good service forms the foundation of their business and is what consumers would come back for).

So anyway, I sulked for about half an hour before finally coming to the conclusion that it wasn't so much the girl that I was mad at, but rather my job. How I seem to have to play babysitter to everyone, on top of doing my job. The blurred line between babysitting, and my actual job scope bothers me.

Bah.

A hug and a movie later - I was all smiles and bubbles again.

Moody.

2009-02-09T22:50:00.002+08:00

It's been awhile since I last wrote.

I'm feeling a little moody tonight, but not in an overwhelming way - just something in between.

I hate feeling this way. It's awful.

And I hate feeling needy.