Saturday, December 31, 2005

Happy 2006!

Nothing beats talking to The Greatest Crush of All Time on New Year's eve.

We will meet in 2006!

I'm so blissfully happy I can go prancing in a meadow full of daffodils now.

Happy 2006!

Friday, December 30, 2005

Haircut, soft toys and alcohol.

Not too long ago, I wrote about getting a haircut. Just a trim, and not the image changing one I thought about. Yes, I wanted to stick to my 6th year of Aniston. The keyword being 'wanted'. And true to my word (or something like that) I went ahead and get one.

Result? I have a horrendous haircut now. So bad that I've decided right after the entire ordeal to stay away from people I want to impress because that haircut will do me in IMMEDIATELY. Very bad.

I had the Horrible Haircut shortly after I reached home from Sydney. I thought to myself, "I'm just going to get a trim, nothing too major or radical. So a visit to my nearest hairdresser should be enough."


The place is quite a respectable one, apparently the swanky kind with nice interior and huge L'oreal posters everywhere. I've had my hair cut there many times and I thought it would go fine this time. I didn't know which hairdresser to ask for so I just picked this guy randomly.

Due to the utter breakdown in communication, a trim came across as "I want you to change my entire look". And because of a major oversight, which roughly translated to "It's all my fault because I was too lazy to change into my contact lenses", I couldn't see what the guy was doing because I was told to remove my specs.

In conclusion, I was as good as blind when he cut my hair.

At the end of the entire thing, when I put my specs back on, nothing could wipe the look of sheer disgust and horror off my face. I looked like 15.

I have horrid bangs now, and my long luscious locks (in my opinion) had been reduced to a much shorter crop around shoulder length. Of course my opinion about my luscious locks is biased, since I miss them and things are only BETTER when you've lost them. There's nothing worse than losing something irreplaceable. Like hair.

There's nothing that guy could have done to salvage the situation. Not even a free haircut.

And to prove how bad it is, I will tell you the things I have been through. No photos of course, since I am done feeling depressed and I don't need more people to laugh in my face.

-- a brief timeline of what happened

I was hoping and praying that by the end of the week, my hair would grow out and I wouldn't look as ridiculous as before because I had to walk out of my house, meet people, board the plane etc. Obviously it didn't and I had never been more conscious of how I looked, other than the times when I had bad skin. Which is VERY OFTEN.

I digress.

On my flight to Perth, I was seated with 2 sisters. They were 11 and 13. The flight attendant gave them each a SIA Snoopy plushie. Well, flight attendants usually hand out toys to children to 'bribe' them so they won't make a huge fuss during the flight.

I hate wailing kids, especially when I'm tired and I just want to sleep all the way during my flight. I so wanted to smack that smelly brat behind me when she wailed almost all 5 hours during my flight back.

Anyway... back to inflight toys. The flight attendant then looked at me and gave me a "Erm I'll be right back" look. She returned with a Snoopy toy for me. I was both shocked (not the good kind) and amused that she didn't return with a coloring set for me.

*Rolls eyes*

I've started a whole new thing. I have decided to drink when I take flights. And of course, by drink I mean alcohol guzzling without getting drunk. Not a good thing to be drunk of flights, since any form of swearing/air punching/slurring/threatening other passengers and other general display of drunkeness will probably get you prosecuted and maybe face a lifetime ban from said airline.

I drank my way back from Sydney, so I thought I would drink my way to Perth. I asked for my usual vodka lime, and the flight attendant (another girl) looked at me and said, "Sorry girl, may I know how old you are and may I see some form of identification please? "

Holy smoke.

I'm all of 24 and now because of a ridiculous (both financially and literally speaking) haircut, I have to produce ID to get some booze! I showed her my passport and after a "Oh my, I can't tell! I'll be back with your drink ma'am." I got my booze.

Within a span of 5 minutes, I transformed from girl to ma'am.

Not to mention some strangers (acquaintances now) thought my younger brother is OLDER than I am.

Conclusion: Appearances matter. Get a decent haircut.

Radio stations and censorship.

This is my third week home, and due to sheer boredom I've started listening to the radio again. Well officially it's my 3rd week at home, even though I spent 2nd week overseas but that's just another small detail I shall not dwell on any further.

I must say, I'm not used to it at all. By it, I mean everything but for the context of this post, I'll attribute it to radio program.

Firstly, Glenn Ong and the rest of the 98.7 crew that I'm familiar with have been "reassigned" to Class 95, a radio channel I make fun of all the time.

When I was ahem, *younger*, Class 95 used to be a sappy station, with callers calling in to spill all their deepest darkest love stories and professing their endless love to their partners/crushes.
And what better way to do that than to dedicate sappier love songs with lyrics along the lines of "i'll-never-leave-you/ I'll-love-you-till-the-end-of-time/ there's-no-greater-love".

Well I made those lyrics up. But you get the idea. *Shudder*

And songs are so bloody heavily censored here! Overheard Black Eye Peas' "Hey Mama" the other day and when the phrase "This that beat that makes you groove" came on, I went "HUH!?" in my loudest possible 'huh' voice. (My JC friends are probably used to this. Apparently I do this very often.)

It's different to the lyrics I sing to in my bathroom karaoke sessions. I went, "Not 'this that shit that makes you groove' ?"

And just now, James Blunt's "You're Beautiful" came on. "Fucking high" became "flying high".

The next thing you know, "shit" is as bad as "fuck". Waaaaait... oh you mean it is?

What gives?!

Not too sure how censorship works here anymore. I'm pretty sure if "shit" qualifies a bad word, and the authorities want to step in and remedy the profanities 'situation' in Singapore, they don't seem to be THAT successful and have a HUGE task ahead then.

The things that primary school kids say are waaaaaaaay more advanced than that. It's appalling to hear how young children speak nowadays. Swear like a sailor, and probably on the bright and smooth path towards Ultimate Bengdom.

Not that I have anything against the United Brothers of Benghood. I mean, it's pretty cool to see your GP with a huge-ass dragon tattooed on his forearm when he takes your blood pressure readings.

Oh well... maybe it's just me. I'm still not used to this place.

Sunday, December 25, 2005

Fishing trip: 5 stars fun

I just got back from my fishing trip late last night and I can't begin to tell you how tiring it was. But I have no complaints because I enjoyed myself thoroughly and frankly, I wasn't ready to board the plane yesterday.

Dampier is a very very urm.. boring place. It's a small mining town near Karratha to the north of Perth (had to take a plane there) and it is literally a desert. Hardly any tall trees and it is freaking hot. You would think it's not as hot as Singapore but believe me, it feels the same. Just less humid.

But the water off the coast of Dampier is quite amazing. The water is crystal clear and being a place where no one else on Earth goes to, there is plenty of privacy and grounds for me to do my fishing/jetskiing/banana boat activities. I've got my sunburn and the many blue-ish bruises all over me to show for it. ;)

Explored an uninhabited island. It was pretty cool... It was a small island and by small, I mean miniscule since I could easily walk from one end to the other in 20-30 minutes. There were turtle tracks all over the sand and I was told I could find turtle eggs on the island. Unfortunately I didn't find any, after much digging in the sand but it was still fun all the same.

While I was walking on the sand with Jason, we saw sea turtles swimming towards the shore. I presumed they were waiting there to lay eggs during the night or something. But it was still amazing to see sea turtles up close. They were huge!

I was experiencing a National Geographic moment. =)

I was quite bummed out about not being able to dive. But I've resolved (!!!) to pick up diving so I won't miss out on any exciting diving action in the very near future.

I hope this is not like one of my tennis endeavours. Super keen but too lazy to do squat about it. PADI, here I come!

Anyway I think I have gushed enough about my fishing trip. It's not very exciting per se, but I enjoyed every minute of it. Will write more about the hilarious things I experienced on my flight there the next time.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Far Away.

You know how much I hate posting lyrics but since I've nothing to leave you guys with, just make do till I get back and hopefully I have some funny fishing stories to tell.

See you guys soon!

Nickelback - Far Away

This time, This place
Misused, Mistakes
Too long, Too late
Who was I to make you wait
Just one chance
Just one breath
Just in case there’s just one left
‘Cause you know,
you know, you know

That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you’ll be with me
and you’ll never go
Stop breathing if
I don’t see you anymore

On my knees, I’ll ask
Last chance for one last dance
‘Cause with you, I’d withstand
All of hell to hold your hand
I’d give it all
I’d give for us
Give anything but I won’t give up
‘Cause you know,
you know, you know

That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you’ll be with me
and you’ll never go
Stop breathing if
I don’t see you anymore

So far away
Been far away for far too long
So far away
Been far away for far too long
But you know, you know, you know

I wanted
I wanted you to stay
‘Cause I needed
I need to hear you say
That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I forgive you
For being away for far too long
So keep breathing
‘Cause I’m not leaving
Hold on to me and
never let me go

Nothing to write about.

I've been home for a week now and I guess there has been a sharp decline in the number of posts since then. It's only natural to assume that I will have plenty to write about since I'm home and I have plenty of time to burn.

Even if I have plenty of time, there's absolutely nothing going on in my life that's worth writing about.

Eating, sleeping, unpacking. Repeat.

I'm going on a fishing trip later tonight. To Perth, not Sydney like I've hoped for.

Oh well.

I'll be back on Christmas so here's Merry Christmas to everyone!

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Rating my life.

Apparently my life is borderline ok.

This Is My Life, Rated
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

Saturday, December 10, 2005

I'm home.

I'm sitting at my home now, typing this as we speak.

It's an odd feeling, the strange sense of familiarity. I know where all my things are, since nothing is changed. However, this strange sense of familiarity does not comfort me, instead it makes me choke with a huge sense of loss.

My friends. My freedom. My life.
I miss my life. My life in Sydney.

Today at the airport, I've never felt so alone and such despair. The thought of boarding the plane for home is so depressing, I swear it felt like I was crying on the inside. I hugged my friends goodbye today, smiling and saying all the usual "I'll see you soon" words.

Even when my last friend left me at the airport, when all I wanted to do was to hug him and bawl my eyes out. The fact is, I held back and just smiled.

I don't really know how to describe how I feel now. Except that I just want to be alone and cry buckets. But crying now doesn't seem to be an option, since I'm now surrounded by family who probably will not understand the immense grief.

I'm not comfortable voicing such feelings with my family. There simple is no point confiding in them, so don't tell me that "oh, your family will understand."

You have no idea how much I miss you.

I want to go back to Sydney so I won't have to cry my eyes out.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

I don't want to go.

Right now, I don't really want to leave.

I have a good mind to call my parents to tell them I'm postponing my flight till a later date. I just want to spend Christmas at Martin Place/St Mary's Cathedral

and ring in the New Year at the Harbour Bridge.

Maybe then I'll be ready to say goodbye.

Then again, when January comes around, I'll be finding it hard to leave again.

I have spent 4 years here and though I have had my ups and downs, this is still the place I feel comfortable in. The place I'm familiar with. I can't imagine living anywhere else.

But given my circumstances and lack of personal finances, I can't stay here and I have to relocate back to a foreign country where I don't really know where I am most of the time. I can't even speak my own national language.

However all good things must come to an end. Eventually I will have to go home, whatever the reason it may be. I will have to close this chapter of my life and dive headlong into another.

Believe me, I really want things to be the way it is now.

Perhaps it's better to leave when I am not insanely crazy about Sydney.
Perhaps it's better to leave and look back with the greatest memories.

Perhaps it's better to put an end to this when we are still sane.

Monday, December 05, 2005

Packing up my life.

I hate packing up.

Right now I have to sort out all my belongings into several categories.

Things I need immediately when I get home.
Things I don't need immediately.
Things that are safe to ship back.
Things to put in my suitcases.
Things to put in my handcarry.

And which handcarry to use. The monogram bag, or my Kipling bag.

The monogram can carry quite a bit... and makes it easier for my to find my passport, boarding pass and whatnot at the airport.

Kipling bag, can be stuffed to the max and carries a bit more than the monogram. But
passport and boarding pass will be lost in the bag. Not to mention it'll make me look like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Of course, I don't give a flying fish at this point in time since my top priority is to ship all my belongings home.

I can't decide because I still don't know how much of my stuff will spill over and which bag will be more suitable!!

Not to mention it's Monday afternoon and I haven't found a freight company that ships to my state. Not even by sea. I have to ship my stuff by Wednesday, so basically I'm screwed. Oh fuck.


I'm a graduate!




Saturday, December 03, 2005






Red red shoes.

I feel like splurging on some shoes and 1 dress.

More on the dress later.

Right now... I would give almost anything for these shoes.

And the T-bar. Have always wanted a pair like these.

Red red shoes.


Haircut and hairstyles.

I'm thinking of changing my hairstyle.

I've been having this Aniston-ish haircut for... about 5 years now and it's getting OLD.

Now that my tertiary life is over (I think), I want a change of some sort. Something for the journey ahead.

By journey, I mean interviews, getting rejected after interviews, landing a job, plus a lifetime of deskbound job etc.

I don't think I can get a short crop. The last time I did, it was school rules and I was forced against my own will and I got a boyish cut.

I looked like a mushroom.

And that pretty much ended my social life for 4 years since I refused to go out to town in the horrendous haircut.

Yeah, I was reclusive and quiet and almost went up a mountain to become a hermit.

It was the worst of times.

I remembered my aunt telling me how appearances are NOT important and people will still warm to me once they get to know me. So a mushroom haircut is not going to do any damage to my social life.

My arse.

My self confidence sank to a new low, and being monastic in my approach to life probably didn't help in my social skills. Let's just say the first year after that hell hole was filled with awkward moments. Not to mention I was trying to grow my hair out, and it was horrible.

Everyone looks at someone for the first time based solely on appearance. If the other person looks like a hobo with dirty stringy hair, you will probably walk the other way. And if the other person looks like a ridiculous mushroom, that person is probably not one of the cool kids.

That is why the choice of a haircut is very important! Well, to me at least since I do not want to spend the rest of my late 20s in seclusion they way I did in my early teens.

Right now, I have long hair. It's half way down my back and I sort of look like a ghost when I come out of the shower or wake up with messy bed hair.

But it's good since I can wear it as a ponytail and pretend to look like I can play tennis well.

I don't really know how hair length and tennis prowess relate to each other, but yeah that's the look I'm going for.

Kirsten Dunst has great short hair, but I don't know if I can do this. Seems a little too drastic.

Or maybe Charlize Theron's haircut in Aeon Flux. Looks nice.

Despite all this thought, I have a feeling I'm just going to end up with a trim and resume Aniston-ish hairstyle for Year Number 6.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Online personas.

I don't know why the sudden depressing thoughts but today, I wonder should I die someday, what will happen to my emails and the numerous online accounts I have all over the place?

And the 'friends' I know online (by that, I mean on my MSN Messenger). None of the people I know online knows me in real life, so naturally they won't know I'm dead or something. Hmmmm...

Anyway, back to the whole emails/online accounts thing.

Should I die one day, I hope no one reads my emails or logs on to my accounts.

I am not comfortable with people going through my stuff, let alone private mails and letters. I know family and friends will "feel the need" to go through my stuff to know me better or help me settle mails/accounts/stuff.

Seriously, it's ok.

Ok, enough depressing talk for the day. It's the holidays and it should all be about booze, partying and long vacations. And yes, I have vacation(s) lined up.

Jetsetter wannabe!

p.s. Not making much sense here. Too stressed from the packing up and sale of furniture.

Guys play mind games too.

Sometimes guys say the darndest things.

They say women are the ones who play mind games, and you never know what they are talking about since everything is so cryptic. That's really the pot calling the kettle black.

It makes you wonder, just how much are you supposed to believe what guys say. One minute they are your chill buddies, and the next minute they are telling you "It has always been you".

So... you are telling me only women play mind games?

Chances are, men who tell you that only have one thing in mind. And no, it's not a relationship. More like physical relations.

And these guys, buddies who hang out with you and have no qualms cursing and swearing the foulest words, are saying that "It has always been you". Despite the numerous discussions and ranking systems you have had about how hot were the girls who just walked past. Despite their (un)healthy obsessions with celebs and FHM models.

Yeah right. It could be the weed/Valium talking.

I'm just skeptical.

Shopping and relocating.

Shopping used to be my stressbuster.

But now that I'm heading home in less than 10 days, I can't afford to go shopping. My luggage!!! I don't know how I'm going to manage but I really have loads of stuff. Clothes, shoes, useless but cute things all over my apartment.

Not to mention all my mags. I can't bear to part with them. And they are so heavy despite being so small. Bloody luggage restrictions. I still havent figure out my shipping needs yet, since I have to start sorting out things I want to keep, and things I can bear to part with.

Things I need:
1) All my clothes
2) All my shoes, except for the old Nike sneakers.
3) All my cute useless things
4) My PS2
5) My notebook (!! It's my life.)
6) My "Jeux d'Enfant" dvd.
7) All the photos on the wall.
8) Some of my mags.
9) A copy of my thesis
10) Heck, a copy of all my reports.

Things I cannot part with but must leave behind:
1) All my pjs.
2) All my novels.
3) My boardgames.
4) The rest of my dvds.
5) Some of my mags.
6) The entire collection of my postcards.
7) All my dried flowers. Victor gave them to me.
8) Some of my lotions and potions. You see, I don't need 4 kinds of body lotion.
9) All my white hangers. (Yes, I'm quite anal and I like my things to be the SAME.)

So far the list looks like this. I'm pretty sure I will find some other things to add on to my luggage. =(

Sometimes I do hate relocating.

Bastardised music.

I think I'm a very rigid person. I like things the way they are. Pure, unaltered and un-bastardised.

The same goes with music.

Seriously, I do not see the attraction of Il Divo.

Everytime the stupid advertisement comes up on tv, I just want to hurl the remote at the tv and kill the gruesome 4some.

If you want to be an opera singer, be one.
If you want to sing pop songs, sing them.

But do not mix the 2 together.

Hearing "Unbreak My Heart" - the operatic version makes my guts tie in knots, and I have to try to stop every ounce of blood from gushing out my ears with all my might.

Yes. That's how much I detest bastardised music.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to be this hoity toity person who turns up her nose at pop music. In fact I do love all kinds of music. Jazz, rock, pop, classical and operas.

But bastardised music just doesn't cut it for me. Personally I take it as an insult to both classical and pop music lovers. Just how "Unbreak My Heart" can EVER compare to the great masters of classical music is beyond me.

The 4 dudes have great voices, I'll give them that. But really, I rather hear a rendition of "The Barber of Seville" from them than a crude remake of pop songs ANY DAY.

Don't dumb down music. Please.

Maybe it's just me.

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