Assorted Ravings of the Slightly-Weird

Sigh

I know, I know.

It's been a while. And it's been a shitty time to say the least. The world is melting down, inflation's going up, jobs are being lost... Scary shit. And on the personal front, upheaval as well. Sigh.

I hate this feeling of being helpless. People keep saying things to me like "If you love it, let it go" or "What's yours will be yours", both of which just sound like really bad Hallmark cards to me. I hate having to let things go; it makes me feel like I am not in control of my own destiny. But I suppose that when two people are involved with 2 separate points of view, someone ends up giving way.

It just seems that most of the time I end up on the losing end. Sigh.

Adulthood sucks.

Rearview Perspective

I can't remember if I've blogged about this before but I'm too lazy to search and I certainly can't think of anything else to write about.

90% of the time when I drive, I'm alone. That's fine by me, but it does mean that at traffic lights I'm constantly looking around and in the rearview mirror, just to see what other people are up to.

It's funny how people seem to think that within the confines of a car, they are in their own private world. Sure, we can't hear what you're saying and we can't see much of what you're doing but we can see enough. The windows are made of glass after all!

Sometimes I get to see funny stuff, like people singing along to the radio - it's funny to see them singing animatedly when they think no one else is looking. Some throw in hand gestures, some really belt out the tunes. In the mornings driving to work, I often see women putting on makeup while the lights are red, which can be a real timesaver. I've done it once or twice myself, but I've never curled my lashes while driving; this I've actually witnessed. And of course, there are the ones who pick their nose, some more energetically than others.

Other times, I see couples quarrelling or people arguing. I can spot it a mile off. The wooden faces, staring either straight ahead or to the side, never at each other. The angry expression when one party talks, followed either by long silences or by quick rebuttals. The righteous look of the accusee, the bewildered/defensive/angry look of the accused. The defensive body language where arms are folded over each other and hugged close to the body. The tears.

Everytime I see this, I wonder what they are arguing about. I know I shouldn't look but it's almost like how people slow down to look at car wrecks. I'm not being a busybody and I certainly don't want to be in on their personal tragedies but I just wonder how big an issue it is for them to look so angry.

Maybe people just don't realise how big an impact they have on others, especially on those who care for them. If they did, perhaps they'd choose their words with more care or think through their actions. If they could look through a rearview mirror and see what others see, would they be able to recognise themselves? And more importantly, would they reconsider?

I need my own rearview mirror.

Twenty Nine, Still!

Today is the last day of my twenties!

After today, I will officially be a member of the LZB club. I'll have to start checking off a new box when it comes to filling out survey forms etc. I'll be a "thirty-something". (Although apparently I'll still be considered a youth till I'm 35 since that is the official SG definition.)

WAH.

I wonder if my body will magically deteriorate when I wake up tomorrow.

A few months ago I was having drinks with some friends who had already turned 30, and the conversation was hilarious. They were lamenting about how their metabolic rates had slowed down, how their bodies took a much longer time to recover, how they could no longer party all night long, how pimple scars took much longer to fade. At least, it was hilarious when I could still claim to be in my twenties. Now, when I'm teetering on the brink of thirty-something-hood, it's not that funny. No wonder the pimple hasn't healed.

Maybe tomorrow when I wake up, my body will start storing fat like there's no tomorrow. Which means no more ice cream. And maybe tomorrow when I wake up I'll start feeling the weight of my thirty-something-year-old body on my thirty-something-year-old bones. Which means I'll creak and squeak when I walk up stairs, like my dad does. (You can hear him coming for miles.) And maybe I'll magically mature into an adult, cos I sure as hell still don't feel like one yet!

But my sneaking suspicion is nothing changes :) It's just a number. RIGHT??

*fingers crossed*

P.S.: PARTY TOMORROW NIGHT!
P.P.S.: If anyone was thinking of getting me the jigsaw, my sis is already getting it :)

"Because They're Mine"

A few weeks ago, while on one of the many many business trips, I found myself in the following situation.

There I was, in my hotel room on the 22nd floor, having a heated discussion with the person on the other line. As I was talking, I was pacing up and down in front of the window, occasionally gesticulating furiously with one hand, occasionally pulling my hair or clenching my fist to prevent a potential meltdown while holding the mobile with the other. This went on for about 15 minutes until I looked out the window at the hotel across the road.

And there, just a few floors above me, there was a guy who was seemingly in the same situation as me. I stopped pacing and stood there, watching him. And as I watched, he paced up and down, sat down on his chair, got up and paced some more, pulled at his tie, ran his fingers through his hair; all the while on his mobile phone.

I had to smile, even though the conversation I was in the midst of having was nowhere near funny. While I had no clue what my "twin" was upset about, I felt some kind of empathy for him and from a third-party perspective there was something funny about two strangers reacting in identical ways, mirroring each other across the road, 60 odd metres above the city.

I guess my takeaway from this is that while your problems seem to be the biggest in the world, the same holds true for everyone else. I remember one scene from Ally McBeal (I used to love that show - it was mandatory viewing every Tuesday night on Fox during my cable-less college years) where Ally was asked why her problems were bigger than anyone else's. With a surprised look on her face, as if to say it was a silly question, she replied: "Because they're mine."

But seeing that guy through the window, I realised that perspective is everything. Boil things down to the simplest of elements and every person has the same problems as the guy next door: the root causes and the solutions are less varied than you think.

It was then that I realised, nothing is totally unbearable. Because somewhere out there, someone is going through similar shit, if not the same shit, as you.

Life Lessons

It's raining again, after glorious weather over the weekend and on Monday. Sigh. And here I was, prematurely rejoicing.

Anyhow, I was just thinking about life lessons I have gleaned over the past year and a half.

1) Patience is a virtue. 'Cos sometimes things take a long time to mature but most of the time it's the worthwhile things. It's a skill I'm still having to learn the hard way though.

2) Ignorance is bliss. But only to a certain point where you really can't keep your eyes shut anymore. Then after that you just look stupid if you keep ignoring what's right in front of you.

3) Knowledge is empowering. It enables you to make decisions and change things. Sometimes it's painful to have full knowledge but in the long run I'd rather know all than be a fool. That way, I can't blame anyone but myself for anything that happens.

4) Trust is key. 'Cos without trust things eventually crumble. And it gets way too tiring to have to constantly be checking up on people, and to constantly be wondering about what they're up to.

5) Optimism is sustaining. 'Cos without hope, we'd all be down in the dumps every single tedious day.

Happy Tuesday! :D

Love Is...

... being able to accept him for what he is. To love him as the sum total of all that is good and bad about him, all his qualities and all his imperfections and flaws. To not expect him to change for you but to grow together with you.

Love is being able to trust him still, and to accept all that he says at face value. Love is being able to forgive and to move on. Because it's too tiring to have to constantly check up on him and to constantly wonder if he's being honest. Because it will never work if you hold the mistake over his head as a tool, and use it as a means to demand things for yourself.

Love is putting him before yourself, like when you give him a heads up when you really didn't need to. Love is thinking about how your actions affect him, before thinking about how they affect yourself. Love is being there for him all the time. Love is not about giving ultimatums, or demanding for certain actions to be taken as proof of his love.

Love is silly, in many ways. But, love is also about asking the tough questions. The questions that he may not be able to answer or want to answer, but that he should be thinking about, even if he doesn't have the bandwidth to do so now. Love is standing by him in all that he does, as long as it is good for him. Love is to challenge him and not to be his yes-man.

I can do all this for him, and I will do all this for him even if he doesn't ask it of me, until the day love fades or transmutes into something else.

And by the way, this one-way conversation is really kinda strange...

The Pursuit of Happiness

I'm not sure.

I'm glad things are out in the open. I'm glad we all know what's going on. I don't know how things will turn out, but I've changed the equation. And maybe that's all that was needed. (And if you're reading this, which I suspect you are, I don't know what to say that doesn't sound trite except that it hurts for me too.)

I wonder why it's so hard to find happiness. I hear all these sad stories from all perspectives and it's getting tougher to not be cynical. I'd rather be alone than have stuff like that happen to me. And yet I know chances are that they will, if I stay on this road.

Maybe not all of us get the happy fairy-tale ending (and those who do shouldn't be taking things for granted). Maybe we find happiness in other ways: in family and friends who love us and support us; in being grateful for the little things in life; in seeing the beauty in nature; in being physically and mentally (and sometimes financially) able to do what we want.

And so I say, "Screw it. Life's short enough. Why waste time being unhappy?" If something makes me happy and if I am fully cognizant of all the consequences and repercussions of my actions, why shouldn't I go ahead and do it? And once something makes me unhappy (enough), I should get rid of it.

I think these two lines really sum up my philosophy (and yes I realise I'm misquoting the song here):

"就算下一秒坎坷这一秒是快乐的
天地辽阔相遇多难的"

I can't tell the future but I can see the here and now. I know what I want, even if it's not good for me, and I know what I should want. The question is, do you?

P.S.: There are really only 2 "you"s that this is addressed to. The rest of you, thank you for being here. I'm not quite there yet, but I'm getting to it.

Women of the World, UNITE!

So I was doing nothing at work today except cleaning out the multiple piles of research that have accumulated over the year. I used up 6 trash bags and then I had to stop because I ran out of bags. There's still some stacks left but at least my desk is looking less like a toy fort with battlements of research notes.

As usual, I was multi-tasking and breaking up the tedium of cleaning up by chatting with friends. While chatting with my childhood friend, I got to thinking about the amount of time females spend bitching about guys.

Let's assume the following.
1) 6.6 bn people in the world, of which 50% are female, so that gives us 3.3bn females.
2) 40% of females are in the age range 25-45 (assuming this is the prime bitching age) so that gives us 1.32 bn females.
3) Take away some proportion who have good taste (i.e. lesbians) and let's conservatively assume that we have a total of 1 bn females. (This also makes the numbers work much easier.)

If we spend 2 hours a day bitching about guys, that equates to 720 bn human hours a year. Think about what we could do with 720 bn human hours. All that lost productivity at work griping with friends about how he forgot something when you've only brought it up like ten times the last 2 days, when you could be initiating coverage on some obscure software company; all those hours spent in coffeehouses sipping your mocha (with your pinkie sticking out delicately) complaining about what he said, and asking them what they thought he meant when he said what he said; all the time spent listening to friends saying "I told you so!" and bawling your eyes out; all the internal turmoil wondering if you need to talk or if it was a good time to call or if you'd just push him away by appearing to be too needy...

Just imagine, if we had put our minds to it, instead of wasting it on bitching about guys and the stupid mind games that they play (or that we think they play), we could have turned the world into one big matriarchical society, like that extremely enlightened tribe somewhere in the vast reaches of China, where women have multiple husbands and make all the financial decisions. (Note to self: move to China to enroll in tribe.)

And then we would have turned guys into our bitches.

29 And Counting!

Thanks to all those who sent me birthday wishes and presents! The sentiments were much appreciated. And thanks to my sister who prepared a really yummy sashimi dinner.

Next year, I'm throwing a huge-ass bash. All invited. Whee!

A couple of QOTDs today:
From Des, who was raving about a steakhouse she visited recently:
"If I could date a steak from Peter Luger for the rest of my life, I would."

From Serene, who replied after I said I was getting sappy in my old age:
"You've always been a closet sap."

Uh-oh... busted :D

Today Is...

... the kind of day when you just want to call in sick. It's raining outside, the skies are grey and it's almost chilly. Just the perfect day to snuggle back under the covers and sleep till noon. Unfortunately, since I'm not a taitai but merely a salaried worker, I had to come in to work.

Today reminds me of winters in Berkeley, when some days would be cold enough that your breath would frost up and when you got out of bed you felt that blast of cold air as you threw off the covers. The skies would be leaden and the clouds so low that you could almost touch them. Everyone would be bundled up in sweaters and scarves, except for some crazy jocks who would persist in walking around in shorts. Those were the days when 8am classes had the worst attendance levels.

Last night, I had a revelation. I realised I'm free at last. You have no power over me.

And just like that, the skies outside have brightened up. It's going to be a great day.

To You:

It's been a fairly tiring weekend with 2 weddings on the same day, 2 games on the same day, and some World Cup action. Looks like it's now Euro 2006 instead of World Cup 2006, since everyone else is totally out of it. Sigh.

Anyway, I had said earlier that I needed to cool down first before blogging and while I've cooled down already I've still spent most of the day (while working on some valuation spreadsheet) thinking about what I really want to say*.

Here goes.

In any friendship or relationship, there has to be some kind of 2-way traffic for things to work. Over the past few weeks my friends have been trying to tell me (some very nicely, others not so) to "wake up my fucking idea" and I've stubbornly resisted because I've been holding on to some kind of ideal. Until Sunday. And all it took was 4 simple words to get me to throw up my hands in disgust and refuse to be a doormat any longer.

I now know the limit to the amount of shit I can take. You cannot expect me to pander to your every whim while not taking my calls or sporadically replying to emails/msgs. If we're even going to be friends you have to be there for me as I am for you. It's not going to work when you decide to reach out to me only when you need something, and ignore me the rest of the time. I don't owe you anything; in fact it would be the other way around.

I can still be a friend to you and I still want to be a friend to you but honestly, do you think you deserve this friendship? I've had enemies treat me better. After you screwed up, you dangled the incentive of getting back together and then flaked on me not once, but twice. You totally disappeared on me and while what I did was stupid, what you did was wrong. It's as simple as that.

I'm over paying the price for my stupidity. I'm over feeling sad or guilty about my actions because honestly, there was no need for me to feel that way in the first place. I'm over being deliberately vague on my blog so as to protect you and not push you away. You were the one who screwed up; I was the one who reacted stupidly. You were the one that took what we had and threw it out the window; I offered it back to you twice, only to have you throw it right back at my face. And though I still miss you, if it's going to be like this where everything is dictated by you, then I will do without you.

I'd much rather hang on to the happy memories I still have of us together than to ruin them any further with every stunt that you pull. When I look back at this, I want to smile when I think of you. I don't want my memory of you to be tainted any more by all this. And if this pisses you off, then that's too bad. Because I think deep down you know exactly what you're giving up.

I've laid out exactly what I want and I've told you what I want to do to make things work between us. If you cannot appreciate having me in your life, if you cannot even treat me as a friend should be treated, with the proper respect and care that I deserve, then go ahead; shut me out. If you somehow still want me to be in your life, then you know what you should do.

I'm done trying to tell you what you should already know. It's up to you now.

* Of course, what I initially wanted to say couldn't pass the censors.

A Little Sign

I believe in signs.

I believe that there exists some higher power (because the idea that human beings are the most intelligent beings in existence is too frightening to comprehend) who isn't omni-potent (cos that just brings up the whole thorny issue of predestination and free will) but does have some prescience and a sense of humour to boot. And I believe that occasionally this higher power (or these higher powers) will send us little signs to say "Hey, chin up. Things aren't as bad as they seem."

And it is because I believe in signs that I remain optimistic. One day, you'll call. I don't know how long it'll take, but one day, you'll call.

P.S.: Yes, I know I'm stubborn. Stop telling me things I don't already know. Like, how I'm stubborn, how I'm a optimistic masochist which is a sure-fire recipe for pain, how I'm grasping at straws...

An Open Letter

It occured to me that what I'm going through may very well be the much-vaunted quarter-life crisis. You read about these things on the papers and you read the interviews about people who have gone through the same thing but somehow it's so different when it happens to you. The good thing is, at least I know I'm not the only one facing this.

Life was so much harder for people of our parents' age and paradoxically simpler as well. Harder in the sense that they had to work at it so much more to bring us up and to give us a good lifestyle but simpler because honestly they had no choice. Right now, I'm faced with so many options that it becomes difficult to tell myself to just bear with it because I have choices. I don't have financial obligations tying me down and I can go wherever I want and it is precisely this freedom that is the problem. I'm honestly scared to take a chance and quit my job because this may be the best one I'll ever get and yet the option to do so remains.

I don't know how much longer this malaise will take. So today I've decided to make a list of things I am grateful for, to try and cheer myself up.

I am thankful for my family and my friends. You are my support network and you guys have patiently borne with me as I go through my very wild mood swings; through black faces at the dinner table; through sudden spurts of crying; through occasional moments of normality. You've kept me sane by logically and rationally going through everything with me and by keeping me occupied, and you've also slapped me silly when I was being ridiculous.

I am thankful for my job. Even though I don't like it very much at this moment, I am thankful that I am gainfully employed and that I get a regular paycheck. I am thankful that I get as much travel opportunities that I have, and that I have the freedom to do what I want.

I am thankful for my colleagues. They've covered for me over these two trying weeks and I am grateful to them for that. Without them I would have quit a long time ago.

I am thankful for my health and for being physically able. I am thankful that I get the chance every weekend to go out there and forget everything by playing softball or playing tennis or playing basketball.

And finally, to you:

I am thankful for 2+ months of happy times with you. I don't know if you'll ever read this, but I want you to know that I'm thankful for the Sunday nights we spent cuddling under the covers watching TV, for the lunch dates and for the nights out, for putting our photos up on Friendster, for letting me into your life for a fleeting moment. I know I did stupid things over the last two weeks but I hope you'll see that it was under extenuating circumstances because I heard nothing from you, even before the huge blow-up. I'm not blaming you for the stupid things that I did (and you have the right to be angry with me for that) but I was pissed off too, I had no information to try and act upon, and I reacted stupidly. I take full responsibility for my actions and I hope you'll accept this apology. I can't turn back time, I can't undo my actions so I can only offer my explanation for why I did them and tell you that I'm sorry. And I hope you'll come to see that I'm not the only person to be blamed here; that your actions and your words and your refusal to communicate drove me to what I did. I got past what you did to me so I hope you can get past what I did.

I'll be here for you whenever you need me and hopefully, one day you'll get in touch.

Almost Back To Normal

One of the hardest lessons to learn in life is that sometimes even if you're not the one who made the mistake, you end up getting punished. It's totally unfair but even though you rail at the injustice of it all, there's really nothing you can do if a person chooses to shut you out of his life totally.

Sure, you can listen to your friends who tell you that he's not worth it; that he's just a boy; that he needs to grow up. And you can listen to your rational self telling you that it was going to end in 2 months anyway; that it would have taken a miracle to last any longer; that on so many levels it just didn't work.

But honestly, none of that helps. Because for some reason even though you knew that there was a deadline looming on the horizon, even though the writing was all over the wall in ten-foot high letters, you still wanted it to last as long as possible. And gradually die a natural death, not as prematurely as it did. Because for some reason, you were genuinely happy.

What's a girl to do? Nothing but pick herself up, dust herself off, allow herself a couple of good cries and get back into the groove. All too easy to say, but way tougher to implement and execute. It's times like these that you realise, sometimes you really just want your mommy.

A Little Bit of Me

Stealing this from pblossom cos I thought it was interesting and worth a couple of minutes on a fairly lazy Friday afternoon:

1. My ex is: or rather, my ex-es are all married, some happily, some not; 2 with kids, 2 without.

2. Maybe I should: spend less time playing Web Sudoku at work, or clean up my room.

3. I love: family and friends, softball/baseball, tanning and relaxing.

4. I don't understand: how the Internet works, for one.

5. I lose: my things on a regular basis when they get sucked into the black hole that is my room.

6. People say I'm: weird.

7. Love is: a pain in the ass but but a whole lot of fun, laughter and tears. And when you've found it, treasure it.

8. Somewhere, someone is: waiting for me.

9. I will always be: optimistic.

10. Forever is: a near-impossibility.

11. I never want: to not be happy, and to be questioning my choices.

12. I think the current US President: sucks, was a horrible choice to begin with, and holds a lot of responsibility for the sorry state of the world.

13. When I wake up in the morning: depending on where I am, I either feel refreshed or tired.

14. My past was: a whole lotta fun.

15. I get annoyed when: people (i.e. my mom) treat me like a kid, or drive badly. I also get annoyed when I make silly mistakes.

16. Parties are for: EVERYONE!

17: My dog is: or rather, my dogs Max and Bonnie are overly inquisitive, very friendly and sometimes a little smelly. (And yes, Terry and Elsa, Scooby and Hunter, I miss you all.)

18. My cat is: or rather, my cats will come soon (akan datang) when I morph into Crazy Cat Lady.

19: Kisses are the best when: they're spontaneous.

20: Tomorrow is: SATURDAY! Woohoo.

21: I really want: to be chilling on a beach (without sandflies) for the rest of my life with good books, ice-cold drinks and a guy by my side whom I can talk to, entertain and be entertained by, and love and be loved by.

22: I have low tolerance for people who: (ok this could take a while)
- don't know how to drive around a roundabout
- don't signal (unless you're already in the turning lane, then that's fine)
- are ignorant and yet arrogant
- rub me the wrong way
- are show-offs
- go around dipping their pen in the company ink well on a continual basis
- get by on their looks and don't use their brains
- ask me stupid questions
(For more, see my "Pet Peeves" section.)

A Even Longer Hiatus

Ok. I am back after a really long self-imposed hiatus.

It's been more than 2 weeks since I last posted anything, and in those two weeks I've been on an emotional roller coaster. CTG came back to SG two weeks ago for his last trip to SG in a long while. Naturally I was thrilled to see him, and spent as much time as possible hanging out with him. (This is an up.)

Then, as his 6-day trip wound to a close, and as the other colleagues who came out with him showed no sign of disappearing, I got depressed at the thought of not being able to spend alone time with him. (This is a down.) And things got even worse as I realised he probably didn't even know/care about how I felt. (This is a super down.)

Plus, things at work got fucked up enough that on the Monday before he left, I was close to a breakdown and had to take a timeout in the restroom to cry. How pathetic is that? The pressure of dealing with a career that seems to not be progressing at all, along with the realisation that CTG was going to leave in slightly more than 24 hours, with little hope of meeting up again, combined to make me feel like shit. And after CTG left, things just got worse.

Anyhow, now I'm almost back to normal. I'm over the work thing. If I get the promotion, great; if I don't I'll make other plans. At least this is within my control. As for CTG, we've only spoken once since he went back, and that was for a work-related issue. We haven't spoken about anything else, and perhaps that's just for the best, since I just got over obsessing over one guy for 3+ years and I just cannot get into another obsession ever again.

So, I'm swearing off guys for a while. I'm sick and tired of rejection. I'm off to Latin America for a work trip today, so posts will be sporadic. Time to pack. Adios amigos!

Still Not Quite 100%

More examples of my recent lack of focus:

1) Yesterday at the carpark, I struggled to release my seat belt while simultaneously registering the loud "thunk" against the window, FROM THE SEAT BELT I HAD ALREADY RELEASED AND WAS HOLDING IN MY RIGHT HAND.

2) This morning, I tried to put my glasses over my sunglasses.

3) This morning, I went upstairs to get some medication and promptly left the medication on the dining room table when I left for work 2 minutes later. After going back home to get the medication, I promptly left it in the car.

While today's lack of focus can be partially explained by my sleeping at 2am thanks to a lot of scanning and Photoshopping last night, I suspect the deeper reason is that part of my subsconscious is focused upon trying to cultivate and maintain a (budding) friendship over 12 time zones via email; the same part that normally regulates my noticing that I already have my seat belt off, or am already wearing glasses. One day I'll scratch my eyeballs out trying to take off my contact lenses which I'm not wearing...

Not Quite 100%

I don't know why I've been so distracted lately.

Well, maybe not so much distracted as just unfocused.

I keep having to stop mid-sentence to see if I'm on track, I repeat myself in my msgs (apparently), I keep mixing up the days of the week so much so that I dream of doing it AND I'm not driving well. Well enough to still swear at poor hapless drivers but definitely not as well as I'd like.

I think it's because some part of my mind is still driving down the Pacific Coast Highway in a red Ford Focus, or in Napa enjoying a chicken and gruyere sandwich from the Oakville Grocery, or sitting in Pacbell Park* watching the game. Another part of my mind is somewhere on the east coast, wandering around the Inner Harbour on a lovely Sunday afternoon, or sitting somewhere near the left field foul pole in Oriole Stadium, or just chugging down a beer at one of the many many watering holes in B'more. And yet another part of my mind is busy plotting multiple unpractical ways either to get out of here and back to the US or to set up various money-losing enterprises so really, that only leaves like 10% of my mind to function normally.

*Yes, I know the name has changed but to me Pacbell Park will always be Pacbell Park just as Candlestick Park will remain Candlestick Park and not 3Com Park or Monster Park as it's now known. Speaking of which, the Coliseum is now McAfee Coliseum. Soon, the Bay Area will be eBay Area and San Francisco will be Google San Francisco. Even Berkeley's gone upmarket with a Target. A TARGET! Maybe Berkeley will become Craiglist Berkeley.

Anyway, it's been more than 2 weeks since I came back and it's time to come clean with yet another embarassing story. The things I do for material on my blog... Read on for the Embarassing Email; if you've already heard my whining, you can safely skip this.

CTG and I had dinner the Monday before I left, at a nice little cafe about 5 minutes from his place. I had pork chop with polenta and some kind of spicy vegetable, which was really yummy. He had mac and cheese as an appetiser (which was large enough to be a main for both of us) and a chicken pot pie for dinner.

During dinner, I started playing around with his Blackberry. Since this was going to be our last meeting for a while, if not ever, I was understandably slightly depressed and, caught up in a fog of depression that dispelled any rational thoughts, I sent my friend an email from his Blackberry. The email, the details of which I have completely forgotten except for the last sentence, ran somewhat along these lines:

Hey it's me. I'm using CTG's email now so don't reply to this. We're having dinner and I'm just playing around with his Blackberry. Damn he's cute. Too bad he's not interested. What a fucking waste.

Having sent the email out, I deleted it from the "Sent mail" folder and carried on with dinner. Later on, while hanging out at his place alternately watching UFC and schooling him at text messaging, he started scrolling around for the email and I smugly informed him that I had deleted it to cover my tracks. To which he replied: "That's ok. I can just read it at work tomorrow."

Which he did.

The worst thing? My friend never got the email.

I am now officially a technobimbo.

All About...

... CTG. Which is what I've been promising to write about for the past two entries. But this is going to be a fairly disjointed entry because I can't for the life of me put together something that sounds coherent.

In a comment on an earlier post, B asked how I knew CTG doesn't read this. Simply put, I asked and it turns out CTG has forgotten the URL so it's fairly safe to assume that he doesn't read it. But then I got to thinking, so what if CTG reads this? I mean, so I think he's cute. Big fat hairy deal. It's nothing to get embarassed about, even if he somehow finds out. In fact, let's make it more obvious.

I THINK CTG IS CUTE.

There, I've said it. I've been "proud and loud".

Now whether anything happens from that (assuming that he somehow remembers the URL) will be a different matter. Which brings me to another point. Over the past week, CTG and I hung out a lot and, to me at least, we got along pretty well together. (Maybe he thinks I'm some kind of a pest.) Anyhow, it didn't seem like he was interested in anything else besides hanging out, so one friend suggested that either he's gay or he's not interested.

I'm not sure which is more disappointing. I mean, it'd be kinda embarassing to come onto someone who plays for a different team (IYKWIM). But on the other hand, it's probably easier to take the rejection due to someone being gay than just not being interested. With the first the problem lies with him; with the second the problem lies with me. So it's really easier to assume "Oh he's gay" rather than "He's not interested".

And that brings me to the 3rd point of the night. Which is, in this day and age gaydars have to be pretty much precise to the 2nd decimal point to be able to detect anything that is not overtly, flamboyantly gay.

It used to be that guys who were nicely dressed and well groomed had a higher chance of being gay, but now you've got metrosexuals running all over the place having facials, manicures and pedicures, getting their clothes tailored and in general paying a lot more attention to themselves. So bang, there goes that theory.

Another theory a friend has is that for Asian guys at least, guys with muscular bodies tend to be gay. I dunno on this one: wasn't working out supposed to be a guy thing? Since when was it supposed to mean anything else? But I've been told that certain gyms are gay hangout spots, so there could be some truth to it, though it seems fairly iffy to me.

So what can you do? You meet a guy who's well-dressed, well-groomed and well-built and he could be well-dressed, well-groomed and well-built because he's gay or because he's straight. What's a girl to do to tell these days? In one of my favourite movies, "For Love of the Game", Kelly Preston's character says over dinner to Kevin Costner's character that she wishes things could be easier and that people would wear tags that would say exactly what they were. So, you'd see a guy walking on a street and if his tag said "Single and available" then that'd be like jackpot. If it said "Neurotic after 2 weeks" you'd cross the street immediately to get out of his way. That way you waste so little time and avoid a ton of humiliation.

Anyway this post was supposed to be about CTG and in a way it still is. To summarise:
1) I think CTG is cute. (Duh. Else why would the "C" exist??") And frankly, I don't really care if he knows.
2) Since he doesn't seem interested, is it because he's not interested or is he NOT interested?
3) How the heck do you go about finding out if someone's not interested or NOT interested? Is there any kind of protocol to follow when you're trying to see if a guy is gay or not?

Ooooh. Comments already. Well firstly, I don't think distance should stop anyone. It sure as hell won't stop me. And secondly, I don't know what my tag would read. Possibly something like "No strings attached".

#202!

I've gone past my 200th entry without noticing it! The last time I had a blogging milestone (read entry #100) I tried my darndest to make it special, but the effort wasn't very well appreciated. This time around I've forgotten totally about it.

(And yes, I do realise that for some reason the tags on those entries read #211 and #109 respectively. I think it must be because I had some unpublished/deleted entries...)

My first entry was on December 8, 2003. The 100th entry was on July 7, 2004. The 200th entry was about my impending work trip (yawn) and was written on February 28, 2005. It took me 212 days to reach my first milestone and 236 days to reach my second. That means, my pace has slowed down from 0.47 posts a day to 0.42 posts a day. (And FYI, you can easily calculate the number of days in Excel so I barely spent 5 seconds calculating this.)

I wonder if this means I'm slowly losing my enthusiasm for blogging, given that
a) I've forgotten the milestone, and;
b) my pace is slowing down.

Or maybe it just means that I have less bullshit to write about these days...

And using the same handy Excel capability, here's a list of interesting facts.

1) I have been walking/talking/bugging people for 9952 days.
2) I studied in Singapore for 4351 days.
3) I spent 1371 days in Berkeley.
4) I have been working for 1547 days.
5) I have been playing softball for 6636 days.
6) I have been waiting for Flyboy for 1069 days. AND COUNTING...

This means that up till today, I have spent 15.5% of my life working, 57.5% of my life studying, 66.7% of my life playing softball and 10.7% of my life waiting for Flyboy.

"My Spidey Sense Is Tingling"

When I was small (and Christmas trees were tall) there was a show called Electric Company. And on that show they had a Spiderman segment that always involved a mute Spiderman (the poor guy couldn't talk through the mask since there were no holes for his eyes or his mouth) using mostly his web, which looked suspiciously like a thick fishing net, to catch hapless villains. Once the fishing net was thrown over the villains, and it wasn't even big enough to cover them, they would roll around on the floor in a vain attempt to convince 5-year-olds that they were indeed hopelessly trapped by the fishing net.

Interspersed with the live action, and I use that term loosely, were cartoons of Spiderman with speech bubbles that was basically a plot advancement device. Anyway, having gone through all this drivel my point is that one of the speech bubbles featured the phrase:

"My Spidey sense is tingling!"

Which then leads me to say, since my own spidey sense is hardly ever wrong:

I KNEW IT!

and I will have told you so...

9864 and counting

I am 9864 days old today. Even though this year's celebration was pretty muted - lunch with an old pal and dinner with my family and close friends - I still have plenty to be thankful for.

In no particular order:

Thank you
For lunch, Orangina, and a purple rose
For dinner and a most enjoyable 3 hours with some of my favourite people in the world
For the baseball jersey-like bag, and for the little bag that goes with everything
For the book of kooky inventions that makes me laugh
For adding to my makeup collection (what girl doesn't love sparkly makeup!)
For reading my wishlist and ensuring that my CDs don't get scratched
For completing my collection of The Sims
For all the messages and emails with well wishes
For drinks in Lan Kwai Fong
For my blog, and giving me an avenue to whine, bitch and complain
For making me realise I will never truly be alone

35 Years (And 1 Day) And Counting...

35 years and 1 day ago, two Singaporeans who met in Auckland, New Zealand, decided to tie the knot. And in doing so, they paved the way for the existence of my sister and myself.

Happy 35th anniversary to my mommy and daddy! Which, by the way, is coral according to this site.

Jogging Woes

Why oh why is jogging just about the only way to burn fat effectively? Am I doomed to have to drag myself out to jog at least 4 times a week for the rest of my life?

Everytime I see those fat-burning ads on TV I am so tempted to try them out, but then luckily when the price of those things flashes on the screen my inner cheapskate kicks in and the urge subsides. It would be so much easier if people could burn fat without having to jog.

Maybe having more sex is the answer. I'm sure enough of it would be a good cardio workout, plus it sure is a heck of a lot more enjoyable than pounding the pavement! I can just imagine the new ad campaign for a gym: "Have sex like rabbits! Lose 30 pounds in 2 weeks!" This would also explain the vicious cycle that unattractive people find themselves in: they're unattractive so no one wants to sleep with them so they end up not burning fat and hence becoming yet more unattractive. Good news if you're attractive and have tons of pple wanting to sleep with you; not so good news if you're fugly cos you now have to deal with being fat as well.

Frivolous thoughts, these, but such are the things that run through my mind as I force myself to jog almost every night. (Did I already mention how much I hate jogging?) About the only thing I like about jogging is the chance for some peaceful quiet thinking, but then again most of my thoughts, apart from thinking about burning fat through rabbit-like sex, are of the "come on, just a bit more to go" variety.

Anyway, I've added some things to my wishlist and top of my list now is a portable music player for me to listen to music as I jog. Other things include a CD holder for my car and the last 2 Sims expansion packs. Of course, if any kind soul is so inclined, there's a lovely lovely lovely brocade jacket and dress on VSC :)

Happy Friday!

Número Ciento

Wow. This blog is one hundred entries old. I think some celebration is in order here, so I've spent the past few days trying to think of a suitable subject for entry #100.

Utter and complete failure.
Of course, I could
1) whine about singlehood and my lack of a social life;
2) rant about work and my lack of motivation;
3) complain about how my softball team trainings keep getting cancelled, so that as a result I just keep getting fatter;
4) bitch about various people who have offended me just by converting oxygen into carbon dioxide;
5) go on and on about Flyboy, Juan Carlos and Rodrigo (yes, we are indeed on a first-name basis here) and the Giants and baseball; or,
6) make one of those lists that I am so fond of doing.

But I shan't.

The 100th entry deserves to be a classy entry.

It deserves to be on some suitably thought-provoking topic with bombastic words thrown about impressively (but since I don't know many bombastic words, aside from "bombastic", and I am too lazy to open up Microsoft Word and use the thesaurus function, I shall have to forego sounding intelligent).

This entry deserves to be different from the rest of my inane rantings and ravings. Which basically means this entry deserves to get read.
(I would have put in a counter a long time ago, if not for fear of hurting my ego.)

Aside: (Hm. Does the period go inside or outside of the close bracket?) I guess since the question mark goes inside the bracket, then the period goes inside. But what if the brackets come at the end of a sentence? You can't very well end a sentence like this (or can you?)
Shouldn't it be something like this (or maybe not)?
I think I need to lay my hands on a copy of "Eats, Shoots and Leaves".
End of aside

But I have failed. My mind is a complete and utter blank. As blank as the various idiot salespeople that populate our fair island who only know one word and that is "HAR?", or as blank as the look on the face of the waiter who is standing directly in your line of sight, at whom you've been waving at for the last 10 minutes to try and get some plain water, just some plain water for the love of all that is good and right...

I digress. I have no idea what kind of an entry could even begin to celebrate the momentousness - which, by the way, is actually a real word - of this occasion. I have writer's block. Or rather, blogger's block. So much so that I don't know how to end this.

So.
To my 6 readers, thank you. I hope the few minutes you spend here aren't a waste of time :)
Aiyah, what a lame way to end...

Running on a treadmill...

... and getting nowhere fast. This pretty much sums up how I feel about my life now.

Let's see, I have friends who
1) have gotten or are going to get their Master's/PhDs;
2) have gotten married, are getting married, or are getting engaged;
3) have gotten their own apartment and are no longer living with parents;
4) have made significant strides in their careers;
5) are going overseas to work; and/or
6) have significant others.

While I am stuck here in Singapore, with none of the above. Man, I feel like such a failure. If I look at my life two years ago vs. now, nothing has changed except that I now own a car (ah Sam, the light of my life) and I no longer have to take the CFA exams.

My room is as messy as ever, I still swing from loving my job to hating it (right now, surprise surprise, I'm hating it...), my photos are still unorganised, my closet is still unorganised, I still live with my parents (!!), my social life is deader than the deadest of doornails... Yup, things sure have changed.

Anyhow, to celebrate my depressed mood tonight, I've added a new feature - a mood-o-meter. Right now, and appropriately too, it says that I am depressed.
* This icon and future icons from here

I hereby declare that if I do not get promoted by 2005, I will quit my job and go back to school.

A Minute of Silence, Please...

... for Picasso, my sister's favourite fish. Last night, she witnessed its horrific murder by the Angel of Death, the anemone that is the newest resident in her aquarium.

When June first bought Picasso I thought it was the ugliest fish I had ever seen. Here's a pic of what a picasso triggerfish looks like.

*Picture taken from this site

So, a minute of silence please, for Picasso. I know I'll miss seeing him swim around.

I Am Chicken, Hear Me Buck

Heh, I thought this was a really funny title for a not-so-funny entry. So in a sense, this entry is just cos I wanted to use this title!

I have this memory of my mom saying this to me a long time ago: "Why you so scared to open your mouth? You afraid that gold will drop out ah?" Ok, maybe not those exact words but I do remember her telling me this before. And when you think about it, why should it be so hard to open my mouth and say something? I mean, the worst that can happen is that people laugh at you, or you get thought of as an idiot right?

I think too much. Nike was right: Just do it.

A Blogger's Dilemna

I think one of the biggest problems a blogger faces is that when using your blog as a venue to air your personal opinions, you tend to self-censor the entries first. Mainly because there's a high chance that you want to bitch about someone who could very well read about it.

Say, you want to tell a friend she could be the covergirl for Chunky Monkey but you're afraid to do so. You could vent your frustrations in your blog but if your friend reads it and is smarter than the average bear she'd probably figure out. Either that or your other bagua friends would.

So as a result you either end up making very vague comments or not saying anything at all.

Sure, you could start a blog where no one knows you're the author and then you could bitch to your heart's content, but then who would read it? You could fill it with salacious details, maybe, or have terms like Paris Hilton and sex, boobs, jugs, bjs etc etc scattered all over so that people would stumble on your site by accident. Not a very desirable audience, but what's a blogger to do?

I guess the point is I'm just trying to explain why my blog is boring :) I'm way bitchier than this as Nat can attest to, but at the same time I don't really want certain people to know certain things. Maybe it's time to develop some sort of code that only select people know...

3 Years And Counting...

Wow, it's been three years to the day since I started work... Looking around my cubicle, nothing much seems to have changed except maybe it's a little bit messier. No matter how often I clear it up, it just seems to get messy by the next day.

Work-wise, I think I could have worked much harder than I have been doing (and those of you that see me on ICQ or MSN everyday can stop sniggering). Previously I had slacked off 'cos I always thought I'd go back to grad school after finishing my CFA, since work didn't seem very interesting.

But now that I've been given more responsibility, the work has become more interesting. Ironically, it was only because I started working harder that I was given more responsibility. It's really a chicken-and-egg situation because I've been pushing for more responsibility but the powers that be had always said that I needed to show that I can handle the pressure. Which was boring because frankly speaking the companies in Singapore aren't very interesting to invest in.

Anyway, I just thought it would be nice to commemorate my 3-year anniversary. Hopefully next year will be a much better one :)