2013

Let 2013 be a year of learning and consuming what's already available. That would be:

• reading those books I already have, but never got around to reading. And not buy any new ones. Save $! 
• watching the VCDs / DVDs I've bought
• learning actively from people around me (my parents, my friends, my colleagues). They are banks of knowledge which I never actively learned from, mainly due to my stubbornness. 
• Not be kay-kiang and propose to do something without even have the proper abilities to do so. This has affected my work severely. Should write about that someday. 

I believe when Theodore Roosevelt probably meant something deeper with the quote above, but I've interpreted it my own way.

Wish me luck!

Ohai, new skillz

My brother got married in November 2012, moved out, leaving his guitar behind. He said he'll be taking it back, but I don't think he'll be actively needing it for now. 

My friend Flo helped me to restring the guitar, and taught me how to tune it. And with a K.I.S.S. Guide to playing Guitar (which my brother left behind too), I've learned how to play three major chords ( E A D) on Christmas day. 

Yay, some lessons don't need to spend money one. 

Oh crap.

It occurred to me a few months ago when I was standing behind the tripod, filming a yearly recurring student event (Yeah, I work for a university), that it was the third time I was filming it. Surely, the batches of students are different, as each year they progress in their level of studies, and then move on to graduate with higher qualifications than I do.

Shit. The students have moved on, but I'm still doing the same damn thing.

The mornings, they are

the most dreadful.

7:30 am.

Dad: Good morning!

Me: -heavy sigh-

Dad: No choice lah, we have to work lah. That is part of life. Too bad you not rich like Lee Kwan Yew, else...

Me: Lee Kwan Yew also must work mah.

Dad: Oh yah ah... he cannot don't work.

Taxes

Harlie: One day, I may have to pay $10,000 worth of taxes loh...

Me: Will you still talk to me if you have to pay $10,000 in taxes?

Harlie: What do you think I am, a snob?

Me: It's not a matter of whether you're a snob or not. It's a matter of whether you'll have the time next time...

Excuse me, is this a test?

7pm.

Video-Editing is a pain; I was listening to footage from a *gulp* Wealth Management Conference. A footage 5 hours long. It's interesting how sometimes through your job, you pick up knowledge you never gave a shit about earlier. PRIVATE BANKER, CLIENT, SAVVY, MILLION DOLLAR ASSETS, CAPITAL MARKETS. I could hear these words in my sleep nao.

JY, can you make the video interesting? Can you make the video scroll? Special effects? Can we see the video nao nao nao? Deadline, Deadline!

Please. A wealth management conference? It's not a partay, and there's no hands in the air, Christians praising the lord kinda footage. I'm no miracle worker. And I certainly don't want to do a Michael Bay, where it's all INYOURFACESPECIALEFFECTS and no content. Real content is necessary.

*breathe*

At least there was female speaker, charismatic and blessed with that Hongkie accent which made her strangely more attractive. But the funny bits from her are so politically-incorrect, it'll sure receive a cut anyway.

10pm.

Time to pack up and leave. Let me deal with this tomorrow.

No one to talk to on the journey home, so I listened to the loud conversations between some students on the bus. Is it still considered eavesdropping when it's almost in your ear?

11pm.

Home. Mother is still sick. And whiny.

JY your brother doesn't care for me. He never ask me whether I'm sick

JY go iron some clothes

JY go take the clothes out of the washing machine

Oh god, ma, I just worked close to 12 hours, and now I must take on your job? Fine, you're sick. I'll cover your duties.

12am

JY go make me a Milo

JY your father don't want to make Milo for me!

Okay parents behaving like kids. I'm so not prepared for this.

Heartache

You might have realized an influx of posts on this usually-dead blog. This is me practicing my writing before the 24-Hour Playwriting Competition this year. I do write everyday: if email was considered a form of writing.

I'm exploring my feelings now. In the previous entry, I explored happy moments. Now I'm just being emo. And vulnerable. I never thought I'll write this.


I remembered you described what we had between us as "no strings attached". I don't even know what that term meant at that time, but I knew that it was used as one of N'Sync's album title. The album cover with Justin Timberlake and the other 4 hanging from strings, being maironettes. But I knew what that it was nothing good. Yes, we kissed a few nights ago. And did other things. Things a girlfriend and boyfriend would do together. But we're just friends, you said on ICQ, very good friends, perhaps, for all that we shared, but no strings attached

I think that was when I felt my heartache for the first time. 16 years old. At that insecure, pimply-face age where I talked to no one in my class in school, and my 'friends' were mostly virtual friends I never got to meet in real-life.

You made me felt special, for you wanted something to do with me though I'm that awkward kid with few friends. Even if it's no strings attached. I didn't mind, and was convinced that someday, yes, someday, you gonna say "fuck it, be my girlfriend".

But you never did. But I tried convincing myself with reasons why you're worth waiting for. You used cheem words that my limited vocabulary at that point of time couldn't grasp. You were so well-read, reading stuff I never heard about. You gave me a special nickname which I remembered till this day.

And one day, something in me, perhaps anger and common sense, caused me to turn around from my walk home to to where you were headed to. The Bus Interchange where you were taking your ride home. Let's stop doing this, I said. I couldn't stand it anymore. And you said okay. Deep down inside I wished you gotta fight to not stop this special thing between us.

But nah.

But a 26 year old now knows what's better for herself. Less of this sorta heartache.

Connection

I remembered we were lounging at this ostentatiously-shaped sofa in the lobby of a school building. We had escaped from a boring arts camp event. You were strumming a few simple melodies, never mind who the guitar belonged to. When you played Spice Girl's Viva Forever, I sang along to the parts I could remember the lyrics, and you sang the ones I had forgotten. I even forgot that it was not cool to like the Spice Girls or anything pop.

I remembered laughing so hard with you on the bus when we attempted to translate Suede's Beautiful Ones into Hokkien. Shaking the Meat became Yo-ah-yo Bak!. We must have irritated a lot of people.

I remembered we wanted to go to art school, and when we found out how expensive the fees were, we cracked that joke about offering people blowjobs at Holland Village to get that money to pay off the fees. Eventually, you went on to art school, and I went back to work instead.

I remembered singing Green Day songs with you when we strolled back to your house from our secondary school. You were my only friend then who knew the lyrics; never mind that I only knew what "can't get it up" means much later, in that song "The Grouch".

I remembered you broke the only Kit-Kat bar in the fridge into half. It wasn't broken evenly, but you automatically offered me the bigger piece.

I remembered you telling me "You're more than a Poly Grad, and you're more than an intern."

I remembered a bunch of Makciks rushing for the taxi, saying chepat chepat! and you were like aiyoh these makciks ah! under your breath. We had a good laugh about it later.

I remembered you dropped by my workplace with the richest chocolate cake and greeted me "Happy Birthday" 6 months after my birthday. My then colleagues had left the office, so you ate some of the cake with me.

I remembered the both of us laughed so hard at McDonalds for close to 5 minutes about Iron Cocks when we saw this indian kid who kiaped his toy rifle between his legs. The rest who were with us couldn't figure out what was the joke.

I remembered a few days before you left the company, you had dinner with me and told me to be fair to myself and find better opportunities out there.

I constantly search for similar, meaningful connections, the ones that seemed effortless, like the ones above.

Some of your moves had touch me deeply till this day, the others, a connection which had enhanced our friendship. Never mind that some of you aren't in my life anymore. But thank you for being there at that point of time. I love you all :)

Nah, not you.

I recognize I'm not the type of girl you pick up on the streets or at the bar. James Blunt wouldn't be singing "You're beautiful x 3, it's true" to me. So shouldn't I feel privileged that somebody actually tried to ask me out?

I haven't met him. All he knows about me is a few of my pictures (more flattering because have to wear make-up during friend's engagement), and possibly a vague description of my personality from a friend's fiance. I don't like my friend's fiance, and I don't think he knows me that well.

All I know is, the many SMSes, asking me out, "up to you, how about movie" and the last message which was CAPITAL LETTER "CAN I CALL U PLZ" just didn't appeal to me.

And so doesn't his job title.

How superficial of me.

I apologize

Had a dream last night where I met my ex-boss from my first full time job after graduation, where I apologized to her for being a lousy to her. She smiled, in the dream of course.

That was weird because when I saw her at a friend's birthday party a year ago, I didn't acknowledge her presence. Neither did she tried to get my attention. Rude fucker, I was.

In my time of employment with her, I was rude, always late for work, and challenging her opinions all the time. We didn't really click: she offered to be a friend and a listening ear, but I didn't want that. In fact I found her annoying and ditsy.

But after working in other places for the past 3 years, I have to say that she's one of the nicer people around. Though I still don't think she is boss-material, she was (and probably still is) good-natured. She paid me on time. Most importantly, I had it easy as she did most of the work.

I'm sorry, K.

Of course I'm a better worker now lah. These things, it really comes with age.

Goodbye.

I just made my previous blogs private: something which I should have done a long time ago. I know it's a growing up process, but reading the words I wrote there made me cringe, thinking, oh what a stupid, naive, rebellious wannabe teenager.

This is my way of moving on, I guess.

Mundane entry for the day.

Two friends getting married, one day after another. Just splurged on a dress to attend the banquet(s). Now not much to sustain me for the rest of the month liao. I don't even wanna think about the Ang Pao I must Pao for them. MLIA

Goodbye, perhaps.

I lost a friend.

Well, he didn't die or anything la. He just disappeared from my life, and another friend, A. And we know he's well alive because he has added our common friends on Facebook. The ones that don't really give a hoot about him.

I know, people leave. Some leave their families without explanations. Which makes me think of the many reasons to the friends and acquaintances I've somehow lost, or cut-ties with. I'm not cool enough for them. They're not cool enough for me. They started selling MLM. They became pesky Financial Planners. Something wrong I said. Something wrong they said. No direction in life. Too ambitious. Too bossy. Hiding from us because he has fallen seriously ill.

Just give a closure, perhaps?

:(

I saw beautiful shoes going for $105 at Bugis Junction, and though I could get 5 cheap pairs with that kinda money just across the road at Bugis Village, they just don't match up to beautiful $105 shoes.

I so need that promotion.

Clearing out the Judy Blume

For some irrational reason this year, I amassed a small collection of my favorite reads in my kiddy/teenage years: Judy Blume books, in the hope of revisting them. For those not in the know (usually the male population): Blume is famous for her children fiction, well-known ones being Superfudge which was made into TV Series I can't recall the name of. Blume is also known for tackling difficult subjects: Menstruation? Yes, she wrote about it, and we had a great laugh in Are you there God? It's me Margaret. Death in the family? Oh yes. Racism? Hell yeah. All that, written in a child's perspective.

I bought a couple of them off an NTU undergrad from sg_bookexchange, and when I met her at an MRT Station for the goods exchange, she was quizzical on why the fuck a 24 year old was buying teenage/kiddy fiction for.

WTF indeed. What was I thinking? When books are specifically written for a certain demographic, they should just remain in the hands of that certain demographic. I picked up Deenie, read it in speed because the words are so easy now, and though the protagonist Deenie was masturbating in two to three paragraphs of the book, the parts where my 11-12 year old eyes probably would have missed, it was so, so bloody boring. And when I picked up Here's to You, Rachel Robinson, I didn't even bother to finish the book. Teenage angst? Pimples? Having a crush on your tutor? Best-Friends-Forever? Fuck all that, I'm an old hag now and those were painful days I don't really wish to revisit.

This is not discrediting Blume's writing at all. It is just that stupidity ruled me, thinking it was no different from revisiting songs that got me hooked only for its tunes in the past, and having new understanding to the lyrics (finally!) as a young adult. Like Green Day songs, which I sang along as a wannabe 14 year old: I only comprehend what the song lyrics "I don't have sex 'coz I can't get it up" only years later.

Was clearing my bookshelf a few hours ago when I decided to get rid of the Judy Blumes: why let them take up space? Now I don't really feel like dumping them in a trash can: they are good books after all.

So, if you are reading this, and you have a young daughter or a pre-teen tutee you wanna educate about some taboo subjects, you can have them books for free. Just mail me and we can arrange a handover at some convenient place. Or I could just earn a few cents from them at a 2nd-hand bookshop.

The only book authored by Blume that remains on my bookshelf is her famous adult fiction Wifey, a raunchy tale about a lonely, horny housewife. Now, THAT is THE demographic I belong to... *sniggles*

Why I need some sleep

Was in the kitchen looking for something chilled to drink. Ah, 3 bottles of Lemon Lime and Bitters on the fridge shelf, leftover from a drunken night over the weekend. Whipped one bottle out, unscrewed the cap, took a swig. It tasted sweet...and spicy. Weird. I took a second look at the bottle.

It was the bottle of sweet chili sauce lah.

*facepalm*

Oh Hai, I haz real jobz.

When a (trainee) numerologist & tarot card reader offered to give me a free reading, I said "why not", because I'm helping him practice... and also, it was free lah. All he needed from me was my name and my birth date, and he "read" me pretty well, despite only knowing me as "the girl behind the counter", serving him food at the vegetarian restaurant.

From his analysis, 2008's a pretty sway year for me, and if I want to restart anything, he recommended that I should try in the months of October and December.

This year was odd-jobs year: wardrobe assistant for theatre, waitress, traffic-counter, Singapore Biennale tourguide, and a temp at NP. It was really fun because I had time to do things I enjoy, but it's totally irresponsible for a 24 year old to be earning less than 1K a month: it was enough money, really, because I don't really indulge (except when it comes to food), and didn't need to give to my parents, and I'm taking a break from paying back my education loan. And of course my parents are not happy lah!

So when the guy renting office space for his Web firm above the restaurant casually asked me if I knew any friends who are programmers and designers, I asked him whether he would like to see my portfolio: something I put together to get into the expensive Art School. He took me in as an intern.

So far, it has been pretty tough. Not working in the IT industry, despite graduating with a technical diploma in it, the technologies I learned back in school are almost obsolete. I haven't been in a deadline-driven environment for a long time as well. I was slow, I was missing my deadlines. The bosses they were generous with their pep talks, and they were nice enough to keep me around.

I do enjoy the odd-job days, but I live in the real world, and therefore I need a real job...that'll pay the bills. But it was fun while it lasted though.

Fitter, Happier

Somebody made an animated clip of Fitter Happier, Radiohead song from OK Computer: I admit I never really paid full attention to particular album, except for the more popular songs such as the Paranoid Android, Karma Police, until now.
A sample of the lyrics:

Fitter, happier, more productive,
comfortable,
not drinking too much,
regular exercise at the gym
(3 days a week),
getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries ,
at ease,
eating well
(no more microwave dinners and saturated fats),
a patient better driver,
a safer car
(baby smiling in back seat),
sleeping well
(no bad dreams),

Okay, fine. Those are hardly "lyrics", but really a collection of various guidelines of leading a better life (thus the title Fitter Better),presented through the symbolic robotic chanting, accompanied by moody repetitive piano sounds. Ah, we've all became robots following a buncha instructions.

Kinda reminds me of the "Choose Life" chant from the movie Trainspotting. Yeah, Choose Life, Choose a job. Choose a career. You heard that one before I guessed.

Burfday!

My 24th was a blast :P
And this is how me and the other birthday girl Natasha looked when we are blowing something :P

I could have been The Sexy Fragrance Prince.

One of my old webcomics, Fuzzy Animal Farm. The character, Spongebrain Tapered Mat, is a stereotype of Malay people, as well as the tapered-jeans wearing punks. My Malay friends loved the character and didn't mind it (only probably because they are my friends and they understood I meant no harm), but it didn't go down well on others (read the comments). I have discontinued the comics ever since, one of the reasons being that the comments did affect me in a way and made me thought through "my actions".

My current job requires me to assist the graduands of the school to collect their graduation gowns, so I meet plenty of 20 or 21 year olds, and the occasional matured ones around my age. Pretty fun job, with Charis (who's working with me as well) dropping by my workstation half the time during not-so-busy hours and we'll laugh over dramatic prairie dog & Charlie the Unicorn.

Last week there was a group of boys with a mix of ethnicity: Chinese, Malay, Indian. True life Poster Boys of Racial Harmony. MCYS will love them for their next campaign. They reminded me of the people I hung out with during my reckless school days. I liked these boys already.

The token Malay boy of the group needed to have his form reprinted. He took quite awhile at the computer station: not really his fault, because our online booking system isn't the most user-friendly. Boys being boys, being all boisterous, were pestering their Malay friend, saying all the Why so slow! and Faster lah. When I assisted the boy, the Indian boy of the group turned to me and said the following:

"You'll have to forgive him, he's Malay, he's abit slow."

And the entire gang, short of the Malay boy, all broke into raucous laughter. For quite a while they laughed (possibly half a minute), while their Malay friend simply smiled widely, with teeth and all. Not a flinch of anger on him, only because he probably heard this one a million times. And yes, I laughed as well.

Yes, it's only a joke. Malays are slow. A racial stereotype, a broad generalization of the group of people, that's how stereotype works. Of course that's not necessarily true, slow and stupid people exists everywhere. The thing is, the boys were comfortable enough with each other to be able to crack jokes like that, probably already utilized a whole bank of such jokes that could be found at TalkingCock.com. If you noticed, TalkingCock has categorized their jokes under "races", targeted at the major races of our country, looking like an attempt to balance things out", like a let's make fun of Everybody so no one takes us seriously enough to get offended thing.

But soon, the boys, when they graduate, go through National Service, and then progress to the working world, will learn along the way that this comfort level they have with each other should only exist between themselves, and doesn't go beyond that. Also, they have to remember that there are different type of friends: The ones who are going to tell you that you are right even when you are wrong, in order to placate you, and the ones who will tell you that you suck, when you really sucked, only because they genuinely want to help you.

Like myself, I've learned along the way that there are some issues & opinions which are bound to be sensitive, which you simply don't say to other people. You'll just learn when to keep your mouth shut up.Most of the time,it could be some stuff which I've accidentally blurted out without going through a brain process called "censoring".

You could be a Social Science student who went through ethnic studies with well-researched documents backing the stereotype. You could have heard it from your parents' mouth, them complaining about growing up with the other race. You could also be working in HR and sometimes given the "difficult task" of hiring someone of a "difficult race". Yes, must learn when to shaddup as well.

Yes, we have American entertainment shows like Family Guy or Harold & Kumar that thrives on racial stereotypes to squeeze some laughs out of you, but just because it makes you laugh and gain acceptance from many doesn't make it right.

Racial tolerance is tricky, and it's not only about doing house visits to your friends' house during Chinese New Year, or attending your Malay colleague's daughter's wedding. It's also not only about enjoying your Nasi Gorengs or Thosais or Satays. Your sensibility will tell you that it's way more than that. Along the way, you'll have major misconceptions of what you know about other people's religion & practices. Some of my friends actually bothered to explain to me of where I've gone wrong in terms of what I know, which is pretty generous of them. For that, I thank them.

Perhaps that was why FragrancePrince , just like aplenty of other Singaporeans who only hung out with people of their own ethnicity, said what he said. He didn't have the opportunity to make the mistakes I've made, and have friends from other backgrounds & religion to tell him No, that's not such a nice thing to say. Just keep this one to yourself or among us, okay?

But aiyoh, Sexy Fragrance Prince, why did you said what you said? Why did you put up a challenge like that?

To quote:

Even if you are a Malay and am reading this... good for you..coz this is my personal blog and i can say what i deem fit.... if u wana defend yourself.... i suggest you arm youself with education and a motor mouth to compete against me.. else dont bother... coz i will bet my life on the line that, should you challenge me in a conversation... you will lose like what a true malay would.... LIKE FUCK !!!

Well, I don't know how you going to defend yourself, now that you are probably going to get charged for sedition. Poor guy: it's not fair that the vicious blogosphere are reading through your past blog entries (oh no, is that another entry, calling an indian man "the black thing"?), scrutinizing every details to attack you, calling you a horseface & a himbo. If we're trying to be objective here, how you look and your wish to get ass implants has nothing to do with your racist post. But sadly, we all know that objectivity doesn't really exist in the real world lah, brudder.

Paper Bus Pass

From seven years ago, when I still enjoyed subsidized busfares as a student. And looked like a boy. And had less hair. Or more, really. The scalp's thinning.

I only used this for a year before they switched us all to use the EZLink Technology, which is better than those $50 stickers we have to buy per month.