Final Birthday Haul (and pics)

yes, I am hanging on to a cosmo AND a glass of champange-
what's a girl to do when she's being plied non-stop?
(including by the bartender who tells my friend "oh! the lively one who talks alot? SURE! tell her to come over and I'll give her something for free!")
I think I mixed about 13 drinks.

a present that includes pictures of 3 hot naked men with rawking tattoos and great bodies?
Oh yes.
Thank you my salacious sycophants.
(nevermind the fact that the other picture is of me half-naked with 2 fully-clothed "yakuza bosses")

Yes, all photos shamelessly pilfered from Tim and Nic, Photoshop Kings.

People must think I'm some sort of sex kitten with lots of callouses on my hand, because despite my evil warnings that NO PRESENTS should be given to me, I recieved,

- 3 pairs of underwear (including one with a GORGEOUS matching cami)

and

-2 tubes of L'Occitane Hand Cream

of course that wasn't all, (I also recieved cuticle cream HAHA...NAH. there was more)

but I think it's because I've been complaining about my callouses upon callouses that have started bleeding at odd times of the day. and because everyone knows about my mystery underwear thief and they're pre-empting the time I need more fresh pairs. Yes, I am having a renaissance of psychos AGAIN.

Listening to: Seal- Love's Divine

I'm sho drunk rightew now. (cowboybone suggested this spelling)

Happy Birthday To Me.

Pretty Pink Princesses

WARNING

OVERLOAD OF PINK-NESS AHEAD!
PLEASE WEAR PROTECTIVE EYEWEAR BEFORE PROCEEDING (I KNOW I AM)

I did warn you.

and for those who wanted to see the beautiful birthday girls together,


because it's gerri's birthday, I chose to put up the pic of her looking gorgeous and me working some massive nostril action in there. Ah well, just adds to the "Park Ave. Princess" look.

*sighs*

my birthday card from the family reads like this

From Mummy: 23 is still a good age to be young!!

And from Daddy: 23 is a good age to hitch up with someone though you need not be married to that someone at this moment.

And from ah mui: 23 is a good age to be BIG Sister!!

You'll note of course that my mother doesn't say anything at all, because my DAD is the one who's speaking for the 2 of them but my mum is playing good cop, and my sister is simply making one of her evil jokes at how fat I am.

'nuff said.

you know you're a lost cause when...(photo post)

you turn up for your best friend's birthday party with swollen eyes, and when people ask what's wrong, you say

"I just finished reading Harry Potter"

***

actually, the above statment is not true and purely a figment of my imagination, because I'm now typing this on Gerri's iBook, and she's nowhere to be seen because they've all gone to Safeway to get food for a party that was supposed to start in half an hour (and it looks to be starting at 9).

She asked me to come early, and here I am, early, and no one's here.

By the way, in case you're wondering what the theme for THIS particular party is, it's Pink Princess and Gerri knows it's the only way to get me to wear pink (other than at her wedding- when she's making ALL her bridesmaids wear PINK) and she's trying to get me to wear a tiara.

Since the only pink things I own are more distressed than princess, I've opted for the Park Avenue Princess option complete with J.Lo floppy hat.


yup. with a pink outfit, I'm opting for the Paris Hilton look- despite the fact that if I even see the malnourished heiress' shadow I may just jump on her and stuff a Carl Jnr's Burger down her throat and make her keep it down. And no Paris, no coke for a week.

***

it's now 2am, she made me take off the hat and wear a TIARA. The things I do for that girl!

I shall post up more "hedonistic cesspool of sin" pictures. I like the sound of that. Hedonistic Cesspool of Sin. Fun.

Listening to: Cake- Daria

Happy Birthday Sweetpea.

photos akan datang...

and the new quote of the week definitely comes from DeviantSchoolgirl and TheBoss.

TO GERRI:" I think you're really cute but I don't understand you."
Adds the other fixing her with an unblinking stare "do you come with subtitles?"

OK. FESS UP.

WHO TOOK MY BEFORE SUNRISE/SUNSET DVD??????

ok, it's cool. Butterball has it. Stupid boy told me that he DIDN'T when I first asked him weeks ago. Bah.

HAHAHA

I just did a blitz on Alan Pinkus shoes this morning, and dragged a friend along with me. Along the way, the topic of the Saints and Sinners party came up because I said the shoes were meant to match my dress and I was going for "classy prissy" and she immediately exclaimed

(in a very Singaporean way)

"WAH LAO EH! first you were skanky now you want to be all wayne cooper ladylike... *pretends to choke* you looked so skanky! I mean if I didn't know you and I was looking at your blog I'd think you were the biggest skank ever!"

I started laughing. "But the whole party was meant to be about being skanky"

tons of my friends quoting the Halloween Scene in Mean Girls come to mind, that party was seriously just an excuse to dress skanky and get away with it.

she went on

"the Sarong Party Girl had to strip to reach half that level of skankiness! I don't understand how someone can be so clothed and SO SKANKY!"

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHHA. She obviously hasn't been to Zone 3 before. and she obviously realises that the SPG isn't really skanky.

I went to work and told WhiteTrash who calmly looked at me and went,

"actually, I thought you looked classy. Naked, but classy"

which made me laugh even harder.

God I'm easily amused.

Continuation


I miss my dog {Sleeping} says:
butbut
I miss my dog {Sleeping} says:
in the photos
I miss my dog {Sleeping} says:
u make maddy look amish
silvermyst says:
who's maddy?
silvermyst says:
madonna?
I miss my dog {Sleeping} says:
ya
silvermyst says:
hahahhahaha

....

I miss my dog {Sleeping} says:
u want me to ask third party?
I miss my dog {Sleeping} says:
cause i already did

myst says:
HGAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
myst says:
and?
I miss my dog {Sleeping} says:
they were like
I miss my dog {Sleeping} says:
omg
I miss my dog {Sleeping} says:
HEDONISTI CESSPOOL OF SIN
I miss my dog {Sleeping} says:
why so cool one
I miss my dog {Sleeping} says:
HAHAHAH
myst says:
HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

myst says:
I wish that were true

quote of the week (thus far)

you're like the gayest straight girl ever!

rofl.

bitter/sweet

It seems that everyone at works like chalyz. Or the people that matter anyway.

However, they're also all like "She's exactly like myst!"

and while chalyz and I have realised this a LONG time ago (we're convinced we're soul sisters) it's a little disconcerting to have people tell you that.

When The Big Boss said that though, I had to speak up.

"In what way?"

"aw, she's just like you when you first started"

I laughed.

I thought a bit, then replied

"She's almost exactly like me, but she's a whole lot sweeter, alot milder, and she's not as cynical as I am. Life's been pretty nice to her"

My boss' reply? "Give her some time"


That was last night.

Today, I was stuck making coffees all day, and I happened to look at the chocolate pots, and I was thinking to myself

"and there's another difference between us other than slight movie preferences, I like dark chocolate, and she likes white chocolate"

and then I started laughing.

I was the bitter one, and she was the sweet one.


clashing pop psych:

http://www.infinityinst.com/articles/chocolat.html
http://www.couplescompany.com/Shopping/Chocolate/default.htm

EDIT: I thought about it, and I realised that there are a million little differences between chalyz and myself, but that's what makes us different, sisters and not clones. Small little differences like that I'm forthright to the point of bluntness and she's tactful to the point of being "typically Asian". That I still feel weird and sometimes react rather violently (without meaning to) about people buying me drinks, carrying my things or opening doors and she doesn't mind it at all.

and that we're still kinda learning what we want to about each other from each other. I want more of her tact, more of an ease with people doing things and favours for me without suspicion, little things...and I guess that's exatly it. That we're still our own people with our own distinct personalities- just much more in tune than so many other people.

Australia is a homosexual dumping ground

Maybe it's just the people I hang with, but it seems that some of Singapore's richest choose to exile their gay kids in what they consider homosexual wasteland.

Obviously I can't name names else it would defeat the whole purpose of parents dumping their kids here. Which of course, is TO SAVE FACE. and I wonder, if their parents were so bloody rich, why didn't they send them further afield? Like New York, or even better, gay capital of the world San Fran? Or London to literally blend into the underground?

Or even to more secluded areas. (like Melbourne as opposed to Perth, but further AWAY and less populated with nosy Singaporeans like say Arizona and Utah and Maine instead of California, LA and assorted Ivy League unis, or even sheeesh French Canada! I mean, all that third language studying has to go to good use sometime somewhere!)

I have several answers to that most of them cynical, and none of them really proven, so I'll just shrug it off I guess.

Anyway, this came to my attention when I met another one of those "kids in exile" a few days ago. He basically did university there, then a hairdressing course, and now he's faffing. He's so effeminate there's no way he could pass for straight, and so daddy is simply paying to keep him there.

When I first arrived into boarding, 4 Singaporean girls I met (and there were only 8 of us) were there to "correct their gayness". I don't know what the thinking was, but the parents thought that chucking their gay daughters into an all-girls' boarding school would "cure" them of their gayness.

Of course it just turned out to be an all-out sex-fest for them, especially since Hong Kongers seem to have the same mentality as Singaporeans in regards to "curing" wayward sexual orientations. and then of course, there were some those crazy international kids, who were and I believe, still are the open bisexuals.

Last I chatted, only one of the Singaporeans had turned straight, the rest were still lesbian. It's a bit difficult when you KNOW you're lesbian from the age of 11.

Their parents are still keeping them here so that they're literally out of sight. It helps when junior is getting prime marks so they can boast about the marks without having to drag out the kid him or herself to parade around, with the offchance that someone might notice a P-flag aura seeping out of them, or worse, notice it or hear it "through the grapevine" so while they're happily chattering about Dean's Lists everyone is thinking and smirking something totally different.

There are plus points in this gay Disneyland. If you're bold enough, you can openly walk the streets holding hands and kissing and no one will really bat an eyelid. You can go rampant gay clubbing. and of course, there are the material benefits for some.

You're allowed to buy almost anything you want. Anything. It's almost like these kids are armed with black amexes of the fms (Father-Mother-Scholarship) kind. The Nissan Zs, the BMW 7 series, the Mercedes Cs (because E is too bulky and S is to old), the international weekend shopping sprees (By this I'm talking Paris, HongKong and Shanghai, not New Zealand, Fiji and Indonesia).

For others, punishment continues for your "state". Money is cut off, given the bare minumum so that you find previously tai-tai-acting kids who wouldn't know a broom if it hit them in the face suddenly work the graveyard shift in 7-elevens where they come home with tales of getting held up with a gun.

and best of all, you can literally meet so many more PLUs. I don't know the details ( I never asked) but I'm pretty sure the Singapore gay community is so closely knit everyone knows everyone else anyway, and if you're squashed into Sydney/Melbourne then the 2 degrees of seperation compress to 1.5. I know this because I'm forever listening to both gay and lesbian friends complaining about how small and gossipy the community is, and how the information spreads across the continent in one day max.

It doesn't change the fact that this is a gilded cage though, especially when you realise how homesick some of them are. When you realise that they're only allowed back to Singapore for short amounts of time because their parents want to hide the dirty secret, and many of them who used to back specifically for Nation don't even have that to look forward to anymore.

When you realise that pressure within the family is killing them inside, or the semi-denial of their parents who keep hoping for that precious grandson to carry on the family name, or even the wrath they have to endure, and the lengths they have to go to keep their sexuality secret, even more so than most other gays in Singapore because of who their parents are.

And you realise that Australia laid-bare can be a dumping ground for the rich to deposit their children whose sexual orientations don't fit in with the family agenda.

in Kelis' immortal words

"you must maintain your charm,

same time maintain your halo"

I was going to post it all in a nice accessible photoshopped thing, then got too lazy. So here's the first of the fallout. Enjoy.

The fallen angel and the Thai prostitute.
Her killer line?

"You liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike? You have American money? Pound Sterling? Visa? Amex? $5 sucky sucky!"

had everyone rolling around the room in tears.

We are bad. Very bad
While Gerri greeted everybody at the door with

"and have you been behaving lately?"

and the crack whore?
was far too stoned to do anything but look glamourous as only Hollywood crack whores can, and stand there, pouting...pausing long enough only to exclaim
"all the furries should take photos together!"

(or should I quote "Ol the faries shuld tike photos togither" because she's Kiwi)

we also had

• a french maid (with a skirt so short her undies were showing, and her midriff showing in a bustier)
  
• a nurse
• 2 pimps
• 3 schoolgirls (4 if you include the one in drag)
  
• 2 bunnies
• 1 Japanese salaryman
• 2 Yakuza
• 1 policeman
• 1 coyote
  
• a toy boy in hot pants
• and one very very smashed dishwasher

Special guest star? Bill Clinton made an appearance.

If you feel an overwhelming need to say, see a headmistress being spanked by a yakuza boss; or a schoolgirl in drag acting as dominatrix over a half naked nubile young coyote; or even a policeman armed with a whip "spanking" his toy boy, well then. I'll have to ask for permission to provide ze link.

as soon as I get pics, I promise I'll post them up, but in the meantime, saints and sinners was a blast.

Good thing I don't intend to become the next Natasha Stott-Despoja or my career is ruined!







In the meantime. I'm having a really bad period. And it sucks BIG TIME.

I mean, as my friend was saying this morning, imagine what it'd be like having to bleed from your penis every month. and it feels like your uterus (or in guys' cases, their ball sacs) is about to drop (or bleed) right out. and you can feel it. slowly bleeding.

esp. if you're a girl like me who has crazy ass periods that are incredibly heavy. AND puts on 4kg per month. (and loses it right after)

and it's spoiling the party because you spend half of it curled in a ball already changed into work clothes for the next day and you look like a...stuffed sausage because of the additional 4kg in you normally ok-fitting tight white skirt.

Bah. Humbug.

RANDOM FACT: "brinjal" is an Indian word, used in both north and south India! I always thought it was Malay!

life on a suspension wire

It's one more day over, one more day I've won to stay.

Life has always been a joy to me,
but startling lucidity always occurs when I'm living it one day at a time,
trying to make ends meet, things happen
like this day will be my last.
Because sometimes,
It is.

dance of the thousand hand bodhisattva

courtesy of lancerlord, this is pretty amazing, like one of those statues come to life, and it looks like how I'd imagine it if they did an animation of it instead.

http://www.fazed.org/video/view/?id=26

more work stories

2 days ago, FiloT was filled with his usual funny-sleazy quips. Usually dodgy guys get a slap in the face from me, but he's so obviously spouting dodgy lines with tongue firmly in-cheek (and with constant reminders about his beloved girlfriend) that it's really funny.

As I was busy working away, he happens to cross paths with me and suddenly says,

"I look forward to sleeping with you on Sunday"

which caught me TOTALLY off guard. I mean, I'm used to his quips and they really make me laugh, but this almost sounded....too much? and then I realised the Saints and Sinners party was on Sunday, and many of us were staying over.

It was even funnier when I realised that it included a girl with the same name as me. AND she's half of a pair of twins. So while she's (and believe us, we've asked) NEVER ever going to have a threesome with her twin, FiloT is getting the next best deal- 2 girls with the same name, of different races.

that sent us into giggles for a while, especially when the coincidences are as follows.

• Her full name is exactly the same as mine, with 3 extra letters at the end
• Her sister (not the twin) has the same name as my sister, with the same shortform!

What the! (Rove reference)

anyway, I've been on the hunt for a white feather boa, LONG. I found some in Reject Shop etc but they're too short, and HankyPanky above Bras and things only has Red, Black and Pink. Maybe I'll get the black one instead. FUN!

oh yes, 29th July, Party at the Long Room!!!! and if any of you are wondering what the deal with presents is, flickr pro for ONE of my accounts will be good. *ahem* GERRI?!?!

*****

I call WhiteTrash "Gandhi" occassionally due to her calmness, save for roll-on-the-floor hilarious sarcastic jibes when the queue goes out the door and evil customers abound

This is what she sent me (regarding evil public transport that doesn't go round the city loop)

fuck! I clocked out at twenty past and I'm only leaving the city now! Gandhi is full of rage!Also I don't think that's how you spell that! argh!

I said: Spelling's correct (we're nazis that way) Public transport isn't! Bad public transport! Evil train lines! Must pose peaceful protest in front of trains ensuring further holdups!

Peaceful hey? but I already pulled the pin from my grenade. hm perhaps too soon 2 make train explosion jokes

oh don't worry. It's 10 at night. All you have to worry about is suicidal lovelorn karenina wannabes.

****

as an aside, I'm ordering Make poverty history bands from Save The Children. Who's interested in one?

my brain don't function singaporean

as I've said before, the finer points of Singlish escape me. Sure, I know where and when to use my lah, meh lor, hors, but sometimes, some appropriations elude me.

I didn't learn that "gum" meant "really close" till I was about 14. (From Canto or English I have no idea) and I only learnt "powderful" when I came over and had Singaporeans teach me the word.

Today's confusion was brought to you by the words "standard" "kns" and "knnbccb".

Ok. I was joking about the last one.

But how am I supposed to know that Singapore's great love for trimming everything down into Asian-bite-sized pieces extended to Anglicised-Hokkien? Or is it meant to be Malay-Hokkien and thus Kena Sai? hmmm.


Kanah Sai.

***

Anyway. I was at the Student Flights on Swanston (nice people despite the sometimes-crazy capacity) and had a travel agent with ex-Singaporean parents. We were chatting about stuff in general, and then she said,

"so you holidaying in Singapore? Should be fun in this weather"

and I replied

"Yeah, but mainly to help my mum out"

she barely hid a sympathetic smirk. I smiled back,

"Yeah I know, typical Asian parents"

she laughed.

"I was about to say that but didn't dare! So typical! Oh you're here. Great. Make yourself useful"

I laughed too. It was true. Not only that, they wouldn't let you out either, will get all cranky if you come home past 10 at night, and get really really upset if you're in bed past 8am. If you do both, they'll tell you off to something along the lines of "no night no day". I'm going to have fun when I hit them with the reality of the media industry whenever it is I start working back in Singapore. They'll be seriously tut-tut-tutting at how an entire industry can be run on "no night no day-ness".

***

I have to pay $20 to be shouted at. Nice one Ms new student coordinator.

***

Cafe SMXL is the coolest place. Everything's organic, baked fresh everyday by the owner's brother-in-law, and (most importantly for the Singaporean readers) has won awards from the Herald-Sun for best sandwich place as well as writeups in The Age's Epicure. mmmmmm.

I was talking to Ronnen, the owner, today and as it turns out, he's family friends with one of my colleagues. He's one cool dude. He's like a suburban cafe owner in the city. It used to be a co-owned joint with his Julia Louis-Dreyfuss lookalike sister until she got pregnant, so he's continued running the stores on his own, AND a graphics design firm.

Say whoa everyone. And he designed the stores himself! (I suspect he designed the website himself too)

And when he's willing to give me free salad with my jaffle, waving his arms around in the background as his staff serve me, telling me "I can't help it! It's the Jewish-mother in me!" of course I'm more than happy to give him a (non-kosher) waffle with strawberries and chocolate made fresh every morning over at my place too.

Perving on: that Wolfgang Gorny everyone's talking about. (Oh, Hansel, he's so HOT right now!) <-- yea, I just lost ALL my Singaporean readers with this one. Watch Zoolander people. If you can uh, run away to Indonesia to watch it.

aiyah, he's not that cute lah. It's that Brit-Singaporean accent along with quips like

Which female celebrity do you find terribly sexy and gorgeous?
Sexy: Angelina Jolie. Gorgeous: Jennifer Aniston. Well done, Mr Pitt

and that fact that he actually uses big(ger) words without fear of being chopped down by Singapore press. Good boy.

Listening to: Sohne Mannheims- Und Wenn Ein Lied

I just got my final result. It's certainly not the shit, but you know what, I passed. I have a 2nd class average, I'm happy. Now I need to print it all out and get it certified.

bimbo post

you know, I've finally come upon the smartest plan to get people to come eating with me.

I mean, there are various problems inherent in this eating business.

a) Not many girls are foodies due to the fact that most are watching their figures (I'm Singaporean, and I'm a fat bitch, so I don't care)

b) We are but poor students, and unfortunately, all of us DO NOT go through a collective stage of broke-ness together.

c) We also do not go through a collective urge to eat a certain cuisine on a certain day

d) we have lives outside of eating, and each other

e) very few of us drive. and those who do, are (duh) the busy ones.

Observe:

Gerri feels like French, I do not like French ANYTHING. The only French things I do eat are escargots, foie gras, good pate (not the Aussie stuff), non-salty caviar and croissants. I don't even like French champange. Bah.

I mean, a steak is a steak is a steak. Maybe I haven't eaten enough French. But unless it's uniquely French I see no all-consuming need to eat French. (except for the escargots)

This means that while I'll mainly be grazing on entree, she wants to go for the whole hog.

Her high-class French-eater compatriot is back home in Hong Kong eating even better French, so she's stuck.

***

I feel like vegetarian. Gerri calls me a rabbit. END OF STORY

***

I want to go outside the city to eat. No one wants to come because it's too far and they have big days tomorrow. Or. I'm too busy and it breaks my heart that they've gone eating at a place I've been dying to try for the last 2 years and there's no way of getting there except by car.

***

I want to go out to eat. Everyone else is too darned broke.

***

I feel like seafood. It's expensive shit. and most people have been where I want to go. and some people are allergic to seafood.

YOU SEE? The eating experience is fraught with disaster.

I came up with a devious plan one day, such is my devotion to food.

I shall turn myself into the antithesis of all I hold dear and true. I shall turn into a shu nu. A rebonded hair super deh pink-loving girl, taking deh-ness up to new levels of taoyan-ness. I shall emulate Zhang Ziyi in 2046 any movie.

I shall pout, adopt a whiny tone, make annoying whiny noises. I shall give little sneers, I shall rebond my hair! I will wear skinny-leg jeans and carry Dior saddlebags and Gucci totes. I will be fake! I will pile on the makeup! I will turn into a skinny bitch!

You know how Tom Cruise controls his girlfriends? Well yes. Like that.

All this so that I will snare some poor unsuspecting fool boyfriend and make him carry my Gucci tote/Pink Dior saddlebag. I shall make sure he DRIVES. and then everytime he doesn't want to go where I want to go and eat, I shall simply either forcefully whack him with my shopping bags and create a huge scene in a crowded area to create maximum humiliation, or I shall start crying.

I shall learn tips from Gerri on how to cry at will. I will DISSOLVE. Yes, DISSOLVE into a puddle of tears. Then I will start whining in a really pathetic voice "You don't love me enough to drive me to Perth for dinner!!!!! BOO HOOO"

again. this shall occur in a really crowded public place so it looks like my boyfriend made me cry.

Between all these psychotic episodes. I shall be the ultimate shu nu. I will cater to his every whim, I will let him have his LAN gaming sessions for months in a row. I will let him upgrade his car to that heinous souped up level where there are blue brake lights, afterall, it will match my newly skinny figure and rebonded hair and deh attitude. Those cars don't carry anything more than 45 kilos in the passenger seat didn't you know? Otherwise there will be a serious LAG due to the amout of finely-tuned modifications he has made.

And then one day, I shall dump him for a socially inept heir who's quite happy to have a trophy girlfriend among his harem of women who are all after one thing, His MONEY.

AHHHH. you say. but there is one problem. "How do you expect to stay skinny when you're eating so much and getting chauffeur-slaves, erm, I mean boyfriends to drive you around????

But you see, I've got that covered too.

In true fashion, I shall do a variety of slimming-tactics.

I shall become anorexic, bulimic, and I shall eat laxatives with every meal and I will also take slimming pills such as Xenical. Sure I'll be leaking oil, but he doesn't have to know that.

So you see? It's the perfect plan to getting someone to cater for all your foodie needs.

Get a shu-nu-bitch companion boyfriend. QED. Ya-hear? because it's worth it.

mr. and mrs. smith

*giggles*

I can't understand why people weren't too fond of it.

I mean, sure the action scenes are stupid, but because I'm not an action fan, all action scenes are stupid. Sure this one takes the stupidity up a notch, but hey. I'm beginning to suspect it was satire.

In fact the whole movie seems to be taking one big piss out of itself. Now this I like.

I've mentioned before, Brad Pitt does nothing for me, but time and again, when I see him on screen, I see why women swoon. He *does* have charisma in bucketloads and I'd safely say that if I met Brad-in-person then I would swoon too. But since he's more a 2D symbol, nah.

So. Like George Clooney, Brad Pitt is always a box office draw for me, despite the fact that they don't really appeal to me normally. Charisma, it's all about the charisma.

And it helps that Brad can act. Sometimes I think people tend to gloss over this one. Like I am doing now.

Angelina, *sighs* if you're an Angelina fan, just watch this for the scene where she wears knee-high boots and fishnet stockings, or the white dress in Columbia. *nods* and her entire wardrobe!!! I ESPECIALLY WANT HER COAT!!!!! and that look she gives Brad right after she tries to kill him. So sweet! So little girl! So black widow sexy!!!

oh. kay. Now I've gotten that out of the way, please go watch it for the story.

Eh? yeah. It's rompus rumbuctious hare-brained fun. but it's also more a comedy than an action film. Why don't people realise that??!!??

and it's a dark take on marriage. I mean, we spend a lifetime killing each other metaphorically "sucking each other's blood" so why not literally try killing each other hey?

I get the feeling gerri and I were the only ones enjoying the film. Seriously. Everyone was telling us it wasn't that great but us?

We were rolling around in out seats, laughing till out stomachs hurt, until our popcorn toppled over. and all around us, the cinema was stone-faced silent. sad. sad.

Listening to: Sting- Stolen Car

free gym pass

I have 10 free passes. Anyone feel like being my gym buddy? (NOT YOU MAGICMAN, you already have membership)

***

I just received this KICKASS remix of Chicane's Saltwater from offkilter. She demands that I show her mucho love.

Hence I shall proclaim on my blog. I lub you long time. *cough cough*

Now everyone knows the way to my heart. A CD voucher goes a LOOOOOOONG way with me.

Listening to : Chicane- Saltwater (Thrillseekers Remix)

That last post was dumb. I'm 23 this month. I'm old enough to be a functional orphan.

there is no perfect circle

There's always a point in your life where you suddenly realise your parents aren't perfect.

For me, my parents were never perfect. I never thought they were, but thought my maids were. Or some of them anyway. The maid I loved beyond reason when I was 2, I still love unconditionally now, even though I don't remember exactly what her face looks like. I remember her waist-length hair, and the fact that she was terribly tall, slim and (to me) beautiful.

Even though she pressed a hot iron into my hand, the scar still remaining to this day; even though I witnessed my parents discovering her lover in the bedroom drawer. To me, she was still perfect. Sometimes, I still think she is despite all these facts laid in front of me.

When I was 14, I arrived in a strange country, with people I didn't know as legal guardians. After a few years of epic struggle, they won me over. Even as I was still rebelling, spiralling down the drain in my own self-destruction, they used reasoning on me instead of authority. Or rather, a combination of both.

It led me to respect them all the more and by the end of it, I regarded them as my parents more than my own. My parents never brought me up I realised, sure they paid the bills and yelled at me so that I wouldn't listen to that infernal pop music while studying and tried their best to be parents in the mode of what they thought best, but they didn't actually parent.

My maids did. My guardians did. I jokingly used to call one of them (the wife) my mother-supplement.

After my guardians sold the shop I used to help them out at however, I drifted apart. And as I did my final stages of growing up without them, I came to realise that they too, weren't perfect.

I'd long realised it of course, but time apart made me realise that there were many things I didn't agree with. Many reactions that may have made sense, but I realised were not only "not me" but were what I was going to choose not to be. It made sense, and I certainly don't begrudge them that, but because I am far more passive and ammendable, because my psyche doesn't tick the same way, I have to find my own way of doing things, approaching things, viewing the world through slightly different lenses.

It's been 2 years and they're frustrated at me for drifting, but when they don't call (because they used to and after a while got sick of making the effort they say I never reciprocated) and I get anxiety attacks when I try to call them once every few months, I realise that perhaps, I will have to use their own advice on them.

One day, I will have to realise that it's ok not to feel guilty. and one day I will forgive myself. And one day, I will realise that though they were the best thing that ever happened to me, even though they literally saved my life, things change, and I am perhaps better off without them. It's good advice, particularly when you realise they both have degrees in social work/psych/counselling with NLP etc.

And till then, I'll still keep giving myself anxiety attacks, and still keep ringing them, silently half-wishing that they won't pick up the phone so that I can send them emails instead.

Listening to: Foo Fighters- Best of You on replay. Grohl has a heck of a good voice for a drummer.

24 hr in one day. I need a parallel universe.

I miss my salsa. Ok. So I have 2 left feet. but after those 4 lessons I feel like I should at least try and keep it up. Granted I joined only because of the hip hop component, but nevertheless!

Maybe I'll convince everyone to go to Alumbra on Thursday. I dunno. We're all girls though. Maybe I can convince Butterball and Andy to come. Somehow I don't think Filo Tom or Thomas will know how to salsa salsa!

I also wanna ring that guitar guy up very soon. like tomorrow soon. I wanna finish 7 types of ambiguity. I'm nearly done. Another week of half-hourly reads before I pass out should do the trick.

time. I need more of it.

***

my third millenium dress is in this colour.

image courtesy of http://vogue.com.au

drool everybody. DROOL.

listening to: Telepopmusik- Don't Look Back; Freeform Five- Easy

Daddy was a rolling stone

In case any of you have been wondering where I've died to (literal translation from Mando) I've been doing strange 50 hour weeks at work.

Why? Long story.

Whatever the case, my insatiable need to whack customers over the head is growing ever stronger. *sighs*

***

I seem to be making a habit of turning up to really big gigs sans a scrap of makeup. I mean sure, I have concealer (and only concealer!) on but that's it. This has got to stop. Very tak glam, seriously un-classy. Especially when I'm not getting any younger and my eyebags are PERMANENT.

just came back from my friend's wedding reception. Party favours include a personalised bottle of wine and wedding cake in little chinese takeaway boxes. The Tibetan wedding dress was mucho cool- apparently her mother-in-law got it from the same tailor who makes the Dalai Lama's and the royal family's clothes. And the stripy apron is only worn when a woman gets married. How friggin cool is that. Unfortunately, I didn't take my camera along as I finished work at 11.30pm so I was travelling light.

It's a good thing considering I came from shift from hell, changed in the storeroom and I'm pretty sure I have smelly feet from changing from sweaty sneakers into heels. I have no makeup on and no I didn't do my hair either. I kinda just pulled it down from the high pony and hoped for the best.

Lisa look stunning in a high-cut tailored black cheongsam with gold dragons and she'd straightened her hair and pulled her fringe straight down so she looked more "Oriental". Very very hot. and everyone else was really stunning too. Nat was wearing a lace halter-neck Wayne Cooper dress, Hang was wearing an Alannah Hill skirt, Andy was in a SUIT, WhiteTrash was in a maroon lace top that looked stunning (origins unidentifiable) and Lindy had the hottest halter on.

The music was seriously retro but it was kinda fun, and the place had Pollock inspired installations, Versace furniture, those wire globes with tiny lights, and Philippe Starck mirrors. You get the idea- very organic, very New Design. I betcha Andy-Architecture was in design heaven.

***

boo-hoo. Everyone's LEAVING!!!!

It seems that I may be leaving too. Gawd that sucks.

Can a magic PR PLEASE drop down from the sky??? Much as I hate the idea of being forced to stay anywhere for any amount of time (2 years out of every 5!!!), I hate the idea of being unceremoniously kicked out of a country even more. GAH.

Hello Shanghai.

***

A third cousin has turned up on Melbourne's shores while I have to leave. I grew up with this one, knocked out my 2 front teeth on his kitchen chair, went for art classes in his father's car- oldies playing, I beheaded GI Joes with him, watched Bionic 6, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Gummi Bears with him, and as we got older, we drifted, especially after I left for Australia.

He used to uncomfortable with my affection even then, now, he'll simply have to learn that over here, not only do we lean on each other, hug and all that, we also kiss. HA. He'll be so traumatised. Poor baby.

I've been reading his friendster testimonials and it's pretty funny how he's a retro king who hates hip hop and r&b, while I'm the 1st princess of dancing to anything but retro and most Top40 tunes. (well, ok. Everything except Grease. and 80s don't count. EVERYONE CAN DANCE TO GIRLS JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN!) I can listen to retro quite a bit (as my playlist will attest to) but how on earth do you dance to...say...Play That Funky Music, or the Charlie's Angel's Theme song? Or Jesse McCartney? huh? huh? huh?

Don't start that square root dance shit on me. I'll kick you with my 10cm (about 4inch) stilettos. don't believe I own a pair? (I just wore them tonight)

well, this pair's from the same brand, and almost the same style. heel's almost the same height.

***

Gerri's having a party for NO REASON AT ALL. I was considering telling her to consider the theme Mad Hatters Tea Party but I think she might have taken offense, so it's now Saints and Sinners (Pimps, Sluts and Prostitutes). All colleagues are invited. (the rest of you, it's personal invite only- if we think you aren't pimpin' and sportin' enough, chances are you won't be invited) Punishments will be meted out at the door should you fail the dress code. Alternatively, we'll just make you strip to your underwear. You WILL become as slutty as the rest of us.

The rest of you can make it to the Long Room when I settle on a date. I'll be dressed in a blazing red dress so you guys will be forced to dress up too. There's a dress code at the door anyway.

Gerri's borrowing my corset so she can be a dominatrix and I'm going as an extremely slutty angel methinks. Halo? check. short white tops? in abundance. I'll just fold or tie them up. White furry pimp jacket? check. Extremely short white mini-skirt? check. I have a shorter pink one. Should I go as a bunny instead? HMMMMM. white heels. check. but they're sandals. Hmmm. maybe I should go looking for white fishnets. HMMMMM.

You know that quote from Mean Girls about how Halloween is just an excuse to dress slutty and get away with it? Yeah well. I suspect that Gerri's No Reason Party is for the same reason. You should see pictures from the last theme party I attended (way back when I was an undergrad living in college- and everyone knows what that's like. The P party had princesses, pimps, prostitutes, pixies, Pee and Poo, Politicians (Bill Clinton with accompanying Monica), pretzels, Pink Ladies, pregnant pirates, poms, painters, the works. We even had a trannie princess.



erm, here's a picture.




















Or the Peter Pan theme party. The number of boys who turned up as Wendy was very disturbing. (albiet very hairy-legged Wendies) Our college was big on cross-dressing and even very very straight guys used to or were made to do it for some reason or another (this included charity). Some guys, you just know will NEVER be able to make it as trannies. Like good old Al-fro, or AIDS while others, you just wonder about. It didn't help we had a drag queen named Heidi-Ho in our midst.

It was all about getting in touch with their feminine side. And besides. We were (proudly) the most rainbow-flag waving college, many of our office bearers and even presidents being openly gay.

*sighs* sometimes, I miss those old old times, until I remember our Phantom Shitter. That was feral.

WAS dancing to: Aerosmith- Walk This Way (literally walking. oh god. how embarrassing. hope the photographer didn't catch me)

I am not Singaporean #47856

*sighs* the devil is in the details.

and the thing is, Singaporeans simply expect me to act and think Singaporean by virtue that my passport says that I am. And *some* Aussies think the same way for the same reason.

Yes, I am far more Singaporean and Asian than the average Aussie, but I am so far removed from Singapore sometimes that the differences literally make my head hurt.

My accent is just one of the things in limbo. Everytime someone tells me I sound Asian, I think "ok, I sound Asian" and when I finally convince myself that no, I haven't lost my Singaporean accent, someone will say "You sound thoroughly Westernised". Chalyz's boyfriend's sis put it best when she described me as "that Asian chick who sounds really Aussie although you can tell she's Asian".

UH. Oh-kay.

Then of course, is the matter of the minute details of being Singaporean.

Everyone knows the major bits. How to speak Singlish (albeit badly), the 5Cs, materialism, capitalism, socialism, communalism, status obsession, cleanliness, traditionalism blah blah.

And since everyone knows this, and discusses this stuff, I'm quite at home with the Singapore mentality here. I understand it even if I sometimes don't agree with everything.

but then come the details.

I was talking to offkilter online last night, and we were talking about hmm....high schools and fashion.

So she mentioned CHIJ TP.

I took one look at that and went. Where? Tampines????????

before thinking really seriously about it and going. Oh. Toa Payoh.

She kinda e-blinks at me, and says "man you're so not Singaporean!!! U Aussie chick you!!!!!"

we natter on about nothing in particular, and then some mention of a shoe and bag brand comes up.

Tod's or Tods or Tob's or Tobs OR SOMETHING. I'm like...whoa???? At first I thought it was a typo- like toads was what she meant to type or something.

As it turns out, (she explains) Tod's/Tods/Tobs/Tob's is a shoe and bag brand, the new Coach.

I sheepishly tell her I found out about Coach only 6 months prior, and only because gerri had come back from New York with a cheap-as-chips bargain Coach bag.

"But you know all the Aussie designers!!!!" she exclaims. (I blame this fully on my Third Millenium dress)

"Yes I do" I conceede. I love my fashion. I love the more creative designers (who apparently aren't that big in Singapore. Too avant-garde, too DIFFERENT. too un-cloneish.)

I tell her I love local designers. The ones that take up the basement of Far East Plaza. But wouldn't know a Tods/Tod's/Tobs/Tob's if it fell on my head. Apparently Tods (you get the idea) is not a local brand. AHHHHHHH.........

Ok OK. So I have a fond spot for Kit Willow. Michelle Jank. Toni Mativeski. Third Millenium. Wayne Cooper. Scanlan and Theodore. and I prefer Citizens of Humanity to Seven. (yesh. I love my fashion) I like my Miss Sixty too. But I like it as much as I like Mavi. and shock horror. I love Esprit. yeah it's a HK brand. SO? I wear $20 JayJays jeans (that's considered dirt cheap here- the land of fantastic fitting jeans) with $90 Sonzai tops. It's mix-and-match. Not spot the brand. I like international brands too. But am obviously not fashion-whorish enough to have all the world's brands covered. Coach? Whazzat????

Oh. AND I HATE MANGO. *fends of 2 million females trying to pelt me with last season's clothes*

So I know nuts about shit like that. And my mother thinks I'm mad when upon touchdown at Changi I run to a newsagents mama store and buy 8 days. She doesn't realise 8 days is my bible to re-acclimatisation. While it certainly doesn't fill me in on my 8.5years, it does a pretty damn good job on current pop culture.

Honestly, all Singaporean-ess about me is learnt through vicarious living. Feeding off blogs, listening to experiences, textbooks (I'm SERIOUS! That's the sad part), hanging around with them waiting for some Singaporeaness to rub off. It does work btw. Enough to maintain a quasi-Singaporean accent, and to know enough that I am still a functioning only-semi-alienated Singaporean as opposed to an alienated non-functioning one.

My best friends back home do their best to fill me in. RenaissanceMan in particular displays great patience, sitting there explaining stuff to me. Sometimes I wonder if he takes notes on what has been happening in the past year to fill me in. Whatever the case, he's been doing a great job for the last 8 years. I even have a better understanding of NS as opposed to most Singaporean girls. Hats off to you RenaissanceMan!

but as I said, occassionally, something will catch me off guard. Like Steven Lim's yellow underwear and fetish for 14 year olds. Or new boybands. Or Tods/Tod's bags.