Friday, September 28, 2007

Progress, wrong focus and state of the world.

I always believed that we human beings are capable of more, and much better things. If we managed to walk on 2, invent the wheel and build pyramids without machines a few thousand years ago, surely we can come up with something groundbreaking now.

Especially now that we have fancy computers that can draw architectural stuff like floor plans and powerful machines to do all the heavy lifting.

But instead we celebrate all the Britneys, Justins, Lindsays, Paris-es and the newest iPods around. We seem to be focused on who's acting up recently and what's the newest gadget (among the pile of similar toys that do almost the same thing we already own) we can lay our paws on.

-- Gawd, I will kill for a Hermes Birkin bag. But I will kill for a lot less, like a pretty iPod. That just shows how little I'd kill for.

On 1 hand, we (may) have Tom Cruise spearheading what must be one of the finest civilian* underground alien invasion shelter.

Cruise planning to build alien invasion shelter: reports

[*I am not excluding the possibility of some really paranoid governments building an underground shelter the size of a city JUST IN CASE the aliens decide to take over the world.

Did no one watch "War of the Worlds" or "Planet of the Apes"? It CAN happen to us. Remote possibility but still a possibility.
I'm an optimist like that.]

What groundbreaking stuff have we come up with? What about all the people who are oppressed?

"I thought of the two Burmese youth shivering with fear, kneeling at gunpoint—and the sickly smell of bones and tombs swept over me again."

-- Melinda Liu, Newsweek
Updated: 1:49 p.m. ET Sept. 26, 2007

The state of the world.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Running out of ideas.

I was chatting with Yern a couple of days ago, lamenting about how I am running low on ideas on what to write here. I am spent.

Work is still shiteous, and I don't have much of a life outside of work since
  1. J is not here,
  2. I'm as tired as Britney's weave-on,
  3. my impossibly erratic schedule prevents me from making any kind of appointment.

Yern suggested that I write about what happened when J was visiting. Say, the day at the zoo. I think it's a great idea, plus we (read: I) took lots of photos throughout the day and it would be nice for people to see some awesome photos instead of wordy and boring post.

On the other hand, this blog will truly become "When J Was Here" or "The things that J said and did". Part of the feminist me is screaming "Noooooooooo!!!" I am losing another outlet, another private space to someone. And in the end, I may end up more lost and a very depressed person who is so angry and mad at the world but has no one/place to let it out. It is not healthy. Plus, that would mean I am giving up something private. The little things will not be as special or our little secret since people can read about it here.

[Again, I'm assuming that the 10 of you who read this space will go forth and spread the word.]

Maybe I'll write about the places J and I visited. We spent almost 3 weeks in Singapore so we did quite a few touristy things. That should be interesting. I have never visited those places even though I am currently residing in Singapore. I guess people often overlook the little museum they pass by everyday while complaining how about how their city is just another big shopping mall.

Will try to write when I get all my pictures organised. Coming to a theatre near you!

Knocked up, married life, big baby and Alien.

I am terrified of child birth. Even more so after watching "Knocked Up".

I got the movie on DVD (just don't ask my how I got it because it may get me into trouble with all the legal eagles) and J and I spent a quiet evening at home, watching what must be one of the funniest movies this year.

[Blades of Glory totally had me in stitches. Can't wait to catch Balls of Glory. I mean, Christopher Walker as a tyrant dressed up in a vampire cloak with Asian motifs who is simply nuts about ping pong. That has gotta be funny. Plus the word 'ping pong' is way funnier than 'table tennis'.]

[Yes I'm really immature like that.]

Evidently "Knocked Up" is not just a senseless comedy that pokes fun at a woman's predicament. What would you do if you have to choose between your bright future and the baby you are carrying whose father you hardly know? And Paul Rudd is excellent.

Pete (played by Paul Rudd): Marriage is like a tense, unfunny version of Everybody Loves Raymond, only it doesn't last 22 minutes. It lasts forever.

I guess married life is just different from what everyone expected it to be.

[I can't get the picture of Paul Rudd grinning while Alicia Silverstone compared Hamlet to Mel Gibson. Guess the movie.]

J was extremely amused to see me cringe throughout the movie. I mean, who wouldn't if she had to witness a hot girl knocked up by a bum who is chubby, hairy and almost always high as a kite?

My god, I will bawl my eyes out if I'm pregnant by him.

[Ok, he's not gorgeous but he's cute in that very weird way.]

While I am quivering in fear from the sheer thought of child birth, some people have no qualms about having babies. All 12 of them.

Mom births her 12th baby — 17-pound Nadia
Siberian woman unaware of newborn’s weight until Caesarean section

-- Reuters Updated: 2:58 p.m. ET Sept. 26, 2007

My god, woman. How on earth did she walk around incubating a 17 pound baby in her belly?? Didn't it feel like THAT alien scene when a gruesome spawn was kicking and stretching the woman's belly?

Sheer horror.

I mean, it took me a long long time to get my head around the whole marriage bit. I'm scared that I would 'eff-ed it all up. [Does anyone share this fear too?] And babies are on a whole new level that I'm not going to get into till.. I absolutely have to.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Fashion, ethereal dresses and unfortunate skin tone.

Although I have not written much on fashion and shopping for ages, it doesn't mean that I am not into it anymore. I still read fashion magazines, blogs, websites and occasionally people watch. I like reading about it, but I just couldn't write. I had nothing.

I am still the same old me, always complaining of not having the right clothes everyday before I head off to work. I still adore classic timeless pieces. I am still not "feeling it" for retro prints and chunky necklaces. It is too.... fickle and now.

But now that I am beginning to feel the itch to make little earrings and accessories, and perhaps have a little revamp of my wardrobe, more fashion and shopping posts may follow.


I love nude colored clothes. They look so effortless, almost ethereal and other worldly.

I can probably spend a long time just gazing at them sashaying towards me like goddesses. Soooooo enthralling!

-- Pouffy hem!

-- Loving the hem of the skirt! Little details make all the difference in the world.

I can wear the color, but maybe as a separate. Head to toe nude may make a person look sallow, and unless you have a creamy vanilla complexion and skin tone like the models, nude almost always do not work so well on everyday people.

On almost the same earth tone palette, I think burnt orange is a beautiful color.

Again, it will look as if the top swallowed me. Sigh.. if only we can wear the colors we want!

Monday, September 24, 2007

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Airport, policemen, little notes and treasure hunt.

J left for work yesterday and naturally, it was a sad time for both of us.

We got there 2 hours before departure like how the Qantas lady told us over the phone. Check in took less than 10 minutes and this group of men who looked like rockers in a band was in the next line.

[It turned out to be Chris Daughtry and his entourage. Didn't know till 5 screaming girls wanted to take a photo with him while he was right in front of us at the departure gate. \o.O/ *throws arms up in air in exasperation* ]

It was at least another good hour before J had to walk through the departure gate to the immigration. We sat in a little corner in the cafe, sipping a large cup of coffee.

-- These are baby sized coffees. Ours were probably Starbucks Venti sized.

It was at this moment that we realised words fail us. We didn't know what to say to make things better. It cannot be helped that he had to go back to work. I can't go along because I have to work as well. Holding hands was probably the best thing to do.

It came to the time when we had to say our goodbyes. I stood at the departure gate while he queued at the immigration, and all that separated us was a piece of glass. And policemen with rifles. I don't think trespassing at the airport is the best idea ever.

-- A bloodbath is probably not the best outcome.

I went home all depressed and mopey.

As with all our goodbyes, J leaves little things at my place when he leaves for work. I have found 9 little notes so far. The one that made me laughed was hidden inside my pack of Kraft Singles. The note got a bit soggy from the moisture but it was still genius.

-- Hide and seek, anyone?

I am not going to turn my place upside down to look for the last note since they were "supposed to last me for weeks so I will constantly find little surprises". I usually find them all in a day. So this time, I'm going to just discover them by accident. So far I've had 9 accidental discoveries.

I love little treasure hunts.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Shopping, fear and beautiful.

We went to the shop, holding hands as we stepped in. It was scary and uncomfortable, and it wasn't how I thought it would feel like when it came to that.

The lady stood expectantly behind the counter, smiling at us. She didn't smile as if she knew something wonderful was about to happen. It was more the "always smile at your customers" smile the company must have sent them for training for. We were probably 2 poor kids looking around in an expensive section of the shop.

I pointed at the display. She fished it out and placed it ever so carefully on the little pillow before gently nudging the pillow towards me.

I was overcome with fear and nerves. God is this it? Do I really have to? This is it, right? oh no oh no oh no... Encouraged by J, and in my little attempt not to make a bigger fool out of myself and J, I put it on.

Tiny, unassuming, simple and beautiful.

I slid it off quickly, and put it back on the pillow. She took another out and I put that on. It was the scariest moment in my life. So far.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Girls' school II - Revenge of the Nerds.

I know it is a little late but at least you are going to know what happened to Average Girl and "Did she meet her boyfriend on mIRC" Girl.

A little background on the girls before I rant on.

"Did she meet her boyfriend on mIRC" Girl was the biggest nerd bookworm in the class. She was the president for the Biology Club, on the committee for the Astronomy Society, and if I remember correctly, the president for the Medical Society. That is saying a lot since we were only 16 and none of us knew jack about bacteria and all things medical.

"DSMHBOM" Girl was not excellent in sports. She was not pretty not popular. She was a little mousey and her only pride came from her participation in various science-y debates. Real conversation/mood killer. No one was as into white dwarf (the star) as much as her.

She was all your bookworm stereotype come true.

Was it jealousy or just plain tactlessness that she made the comment? No one knew. For a 16 year old, it must be really insulting to hear that she needed to get a boyfriend through an online chatroom. Like announcing her undesirability on a blimp over a crowded stadium.

All the girls went their separate ways after graduation, and I don't know what happened to "DSMHBOM" Girl. I think she must have published some paper on either black holes, molecules or some discovery on some really funky bacteria. I mean this in a good way. Hey, at least she has a paper published. What do the rest of us have to show?


As for Average Girl aka "The Unattractive Girl Who Has To Wait Till A Guy Discovers Her Inner Beauty", that was me. To find out more, please read the whole blog from May 2004 onwards.

That's what happened to her. Thus far.

Monday, September 03, 2007

Off tangent, attention, ringtones, courtesy and public broadcast.

I am Queen of Digressing, 5 times Olympic gold medalist for going off-tangent in the shortest time since the event was introduced 19 years ago.

[That's Seoul 1988. Check out]

In my previous post, I meant to write about my teenage years in a girls' school and a passing remark that bubbled to the surface out of the blue. I wanted to write about body image, popularity, how much it sucked to not be among the "It" girls and all that jazz.

It turns out, watching clips on youtube, glancing at the telly back and forth while writing a post all at once does not help one focus. It is pretty evident that The Little Mermaid had nothing to do with the callous remark I got when I was in high school.

And it does not help my current post when I am surfing the web to ogle at pretty bags at this very minute.

[Expect a post on pretty bags soon!]

Sometimes I wonder how other people do it. They can come up with a 5000 word essay on pizza and the toppings they picked without losing the audience. I can barely string a sentence without going off course. How do they manage to grab hold of people's attention even though they are just describing the colorful jalapenos and dodgy looking sliced capsicums on their pizzas?

[Italian colors, no?]

I have no idea. I have lost the ability to weave a wonderful hilarious tale about people who lay on the school lawn like a beached whale. I think I lost humour. And that my friend, is not good at all.

Incidentally that reminds me of jackasses who play songs off their phones at public places.

You know, those phones that have built in speakers which in a way, transform your regular Nokias (cuz I don't see Motorolas or Samsungs with this capability. Then again I may be wrong.) into modern day boomboxes?

So very 80s. When Fresh Prince of Bel Air was still the rage.

Do people not have a sense of courtesy and consideration anymore?

I don't want to hear silly songs on your phone. Especially in the mornings when I just want to space out till I get to my destination. Specifically, I don't want to listen to that irritating-as-hell song by what's-his-face Akon. Really. If I have to hear that nasal song again, I'd stab my ear with a pick. Or watch Fran Drescher in The Nanny. At least I would get a good laugh and be somewhat compensated for putting up that nasal accent.

Actually I don't want to listen to any of the songs. Be it stupid bubblegum pop, stupid Chinese bubblegum pop, or stupid classical music. Who gives a crap about which piece you are listening to, First Movement by Mozart or Shostakovich. I don't understand the need nor the reason behind the choice to broadcast whatever you are listening to the entire train/bus/car.

Are you a member of the Public Broadcast Network or something?

The same thing applies for ringtones. God, you are not Jack Bauer.

It may be cute the first few times, but when it just won't stop beeping for the rest of the day, it actually drives people mad. It gets old quick, and you just look every bit the geeky nerd who downloads it (for a fee!!!!) and customises your phone because you think it's cool. It is not. It is lame.

Same goes for weirdos who put this on their phones.

Or that silly "Viper on" thing as their car alarm.

Guys, if you want to have a successful and meaningful relationship with members of the opposite sex, please I implore you, do not make these horrible mistakes. It is just not cute, it's downright embarassing if the tune comes on when you are in a nice restaurant. And you wonder why she doesn't like to go out with you?

Anyone has anything to add?

Anyhoo, J will be visiting me soon and I have not prepared anything! There's no little welcome pressie , clean change of clothes nor food when he arrives on this balmy island. Oh dear. Time to brainstorm.

Sunday, September 02, 2007

Not pretty, Disney, fairytales and good ol' animation.

I went to a girls' school during my teenage years. It wasn't catty, there was no animosity between the girls. It was almost Enid Blyton's St Anne's. But without lacrosse and extremely Communist. Conformity was the norm and I suffocated.

I remembered this conversation between my girl friends. A popular girl, very pretty no less, recently had a boyfriend. This raised much interest, being the 15 year old girls that we were. 1 girl, not as popular nor pretty nor a sportswoman, just a normal girl in a class of 30, wondered out loud if she met the boy online in some chatroom. Naturally she was not met with much friendliness after those words.

The girl sitting in front of me, Jo, said that teenage boys will go after pretty girls like Anna, but will settle down with girls like me when they grow up. I didn't say a word and went about my own business.

Well well well.

Does that mean I'm bloody fugly or something? Does that mean ugly girls win in the end? The ultimate balance in the world? The fairytale with a twist? The girl who has to wait around till a man, handsome no less, discovers her "inner beauty"?

I am amused at the thought of this. Such a callous remark, made without much malice (I hope) and I wonder if she gave any thought before she said it.


On the topic of fairytales, doesn't this bring back fond memories?

And who would have thought a crab with great conductor skills can send subliminal messages to make a prince fall in love with a mute girl?

"and you don't know why but you're dyin to try, you wanna kiss the girl"

For all relationship problems, dial 1800-Sebastian. Personalized theme songs and marine life accompaniment each sold separately.

When I was little, I read my mother's copy of The Little Mermaid. It was small pocket book, will beautiful faded pictures on every other page. The mermaid looked cherubic.

The thing is, The Little Mermaid did not have a happy ending. She did not marry the Prince and lived happily ever after. She had a grandma, the king aka dad and 5 sisters. No crabs. No fish friends.

The Prince mistook another fair maiden as his saviour, and fell in love. The mermaid's 5 sisters chopped off their locks and made a bargain with the sea witch, and got her a dagger. If she plunged that dagger into the Prince's heart, she would be able to return the her family. The Prince married someone else, and unable to kill the one she loved, she killed herself and jumped into the sea, turning into sea foam.

Unrequited love.

The same goes for Beauty and the Beast.

Belle had 2 sisters, and when her father went away for business, they asked for pretty dresses and jewelry. Belle asked for a single rose. Her father stayed in the Beast's castle during one stormy night, and plucked a beautiful rose from his garden for Belle, ergo setting the scene for the rest of the story.

There was no Gaston nor Lumiere. And I'm not even sure Belle's name is Belle.

Do you prefer the original stories, or the simpler version that Disney fed us?

Gawd I want to watch the cartoons now. I don't like the cartoons nowadays. They are no longer as beautifully drawn compared to these classics. Just look at Tarzan. Eugh.

p.s. I'll try to write without digressing next time. I promise I'll try.

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