I'm Almost Positive That I Paid $17 For A Meagre Portion Of Fries

You'd think that after a long day of running around, shooting, thinking, cutting and pasting, more running around and more shooting, you'd be able to sit down and have a decent and peaceful meal.

But no, you are wrong.

You'd think that after having to lug an 8-kg bag(no kidding, okay, I fucking weighed it) on one shoulder while carrying a 2-kg A2 folio from point A to point B, you'd be able to enjoy a well-craved dinner at point B.

Tsk tsk, wrong again.

It was 7-ish-going-to-8. I was at Long John Silvers at Cineleisure. I was fucking tired, fucking hungry. My shoulder ached badly. My 8-kg bag seemed to get heavier by the minute.

8kg alright! Can you imagine lugging 8kg of whatever on one shoulder?!

So I ordered some rice meal thingy at LJS, with an additional side of fries. I got my fries. The blur cock cashier said that the rest of the order will be delivered to me in 'around 5 minutes'.

I paid with a $50 note and got my change back.

I sat back down with Idil, munching on my fries.

My fries were gone.

I was patiently waiting for my rice thingy to be delivered. I played with the plastic fork for a good amount of time, combing my fringe with it, a la Ariel; I was bending the prongs on the fork, hoping they'd snap, but no they didn't. I think they're making plastic forks snap-proof now.

Yet, my food wasn't delivered. I checked my wallet 'cause I got hit by a random suspicion, and realised that the blur cock cashier kinda shortchanged me $10. By this point in time, I had already lost my appetite. If the food came, great, if it didn't, then fuck it.

But shortchanging me?!?!

Under normal circumstances, I do elementary mental sums at the speed of sound, assuming the norm for the same mental sum is done at the speed of light. At that current state of mind, where I was half brain-drained, you think I could have calculated how much change I should have got back?

It was probably a really strategic time to mess with me. I'm so fucking drained from the day's activities that I really do not want to have to actively ask to be served. It's not 'fast'-food for nothing. I was sooo not in the mood to be confrontational with the cashier.

Plus, I simply have a weakness for blur people. Fine, you're blur enough, you've probably experienced enough shit for just being blur, so I will definitely not give you more than you can handle.

I did have the energy to grumble and complain and bitch to Idil though. So much so that the guy on the next table asked me to go get my food from the counter. But no, I hadn't planned on doing that.

Guess I was at my most gracious state of mind. It was much easier to let it go and not kao peh so much about the money and lack of service.

My Pleasant Dilemma

Wanted so badly to finally get a DSLR camera on Saturday. But turns out my meagre pay(seriously, need a higher-paying job NOW) wasn't really enough, and the camera was only going at S$790, okay! Scoured Peninsula Plaza and that was the lowest quotation.

So I was left sore and grumbling after that. I couldn't get the camera, but I knew damned well that I could afford other things, like shoes, shoes, shoes, etc. Oh yes, and not forgetting American Apparel online too.

But of course, if I were to spend my money on other frills, my vision of owning a DSLR would just become a mirage, wouldn't it? And I really don't want that to happen.

Therefore, I made a huge effort in self-discipline, stopping myself from buying new shoes, the taffeta jacket from American Apparel, CDs, DVDs, magazines, etc. But what I did do, I drank myself silly that Saturday night.

Just silly, NOT drunk.

So far, so good, I haven't touched the money in the bank since Saturday. I'm caught between the camera and clothes. I really need the camera, so for once I'll just forgo the clothes. I kinda like this dilemma, not knowing what to do with money.

Oh, that's right, they call it saving up.

My Lovely Brother

My mother went away to Thailand for the weekend. Hence, I partay-ed my weekend away. Of course, now I feel bad for neglecting my school work, but hey, I had so much fun!

But fun's over apparently. Time was 7am. I awoke to the sound of my mother screaming at me for staying out late over the weekend when she wasn't around.

Whaddya know, my brother, whom I 'love' so dearly, had told my mother that I was out all night on both nights, reaching home only in the morning. 

My brother is a fucking humchi asshole.

Although I was sleeping, I could swear that I heard my brother telling my mother that I only came home on Sunday afternoon and that I was dressed 'disgustingly'. I remember clearly the exact words that the asshole farted: “…穿到很恶心咯！”

Whatevs.

Then my mother started screaming at me, even though I was still almost dead asleep.

One of the afternoons, I had very courteously excused myself out of the house to savour my kretek cigarette. I went back into the house, with the pack of cigarettes highly visible in my hands. The asshole saw my holding the cigarettes and instantly gave me a condescending look.

OH, PUH-LEASE! Like he's such a saint! And he bloody smokes too! Just that he's wayyy to humchi to admit that he's got a smoking habit. It's not like I don't know that he smokes, too!

The thing that irks me most is when that asshole smokes in the bathroom. Please lor, need a smoke break just bloody exit the house lah! Stink up the bathroom for what?! That's why I say he's just wayyy too humchi. Smokes in the bathroom on the pretext of taking a shower. SOMEBODY. HAS. A. HELL. LOT. OF. GROWING. UP. TO. DO.

And whatever he does to cover up his dirty deed, it DOES NOT WORK. I can ALWAYS smell it when he's smoking and after he has smoked.

So for him to come around and tell tales to my mother makes me damned furious. He bloody deserves a good bashing to his face. I would sew and glue up his lips if I could.

They say you can always rely on family. Not this asshole-for-a-brother of mine. But I know I can always rely on myself. I really have no idea what about me that turns him off so much. And just the fact that he's turned off by me gets me turned off by him.

And the interminable silly and bugger-esque things that he does! O. M. G.

I stocked up on some juice drinks in the fridge and came back one night craving for orange juice. I took the orange juice carton and to my disgust, there was literally one sip of juice left in the carton. WTF was it still doing in the fridge then? Leave a little sip for me to give face?! CB lah, this brother.

Pseudo Leggings

Love thy knee-high socks! Love thy knee-high socks! Pseudo leggings! Wait till I get the real deal. I love American Apparel!

2 Consecutive Days Off From Work

Unfortunately, I only got 3 days of work this week. I think I need to put in effort to appear 'in desperate need of money'. I mean, I need to feed my need for shopping, right? Plus I'm gonna be shopping FOR SCHOOL, okay.

But me being me, I tend to switch things around to my advantage, so no matter how unfortunate a situation is, I'll make it fortunate again. So this week, great, I'll have many days of rest. I forgot how tiring it is to be working at the box office. Trust me, it's taxing like hell. So I've decided to catch up with my social life instead.

On Tuesday, I slept most part of the day away, desperately trying to muffle out the drilling and construction racket. When I finally did crawl out of bed, it was late afternoon.

I took a shower, stumbled out of the house, headed to the supermarket, foraging for food. Then I got hit by a brain wave and decided to make beer-battered fish and chips. Beer, beer, beer. It's all I've been thinking about! OMG.

Before I did any shopping, called Farid and Dil, whom I apparently promised to meet up with the night before. So after much deliberation and coercion, I decided to go meet them. With the turn of some events, they decided to go catch a movie IN TOWN.

So I scrapped the idea of beer-battered fish, and went to meet them. I felt kinda off because I was dressed like shit and was heading to town. I wasn't even shabby-chic, okay. Just shabby. But what the heck, we were just going to TheCathay—the fringe of town.

Thought I could get free tix, but thought wrong. But hey! We paid 6 bucks for each tix, and got free popcorn and drinks! The undisclosed perks of working at the cinema lah, huh.

Then came Wednesday, where I met with Jana, who was going for a job interview at Ninewest. The lady offered me an application form too, of which I politely declined, though bewildered at first. 

“You employ guys?!” I exclaimed.

Jana was asking me to fill it in too, coercing me to try it out for the chance that I might get a higher paying job. But retail? Hmm... Maybe when I feel more ready for it lah.

Oh yeah, right before Jana texted me to meet, I was once again thinking of my beer-battered fish. I was fucking googling for fish batter recipes already, okay! Haha!... So I scrapped the idea for a second time.

(I did like a whole morning of online window shopping! Oh ma, I oogled at satin charmeuse jackets, vintage plaid shorts, basket weave sandals, patent leather loafers, rainbow tees, tailored pants from Junn J and went ga-ga crazy at drugstore.com.)

Fungry from thinking about my beer-battered fish, we went to have ayam penyet at Marina Square. Woohoo! FINALLY SATISFIED MY CRAVING FOR IKAN BAWAL PENYET LAH!!! Ayam Penyet Ria at Lucky Plaza ran out of pomfret for the longest time!

It was many weeks ago that the craving for pomfret penyet came about. After seeing Nenny swipe her pomfret clean like how a tame house cat would eat its fish, fried pomfrets just appear delectable and tantalising.

After dinner, Jana and I headed to Starbucks at Suntec, where I met two of her long-time friends. This is what I mean by catching up with my social life. It's been soooooo long since I met new people. I love people and people love me.

But I loved her friend more after she lugged out a bottle of Absolut Mango and offered me a shot or two. Haha!... The power of alcohol, people. Fucking hell lah, I'm succumbing too much to alcohol.

Oh, and I still cannot shake the feeling that I absolutely HAVE to go for the girl party tomorrow night! I would take it that meeting Jana's girlfriends was a sign that I should party tomorrow. Plus I'm off from work on Friday, so I'll have the whole day to recuperate post-clubbing.

Anyways, after hanging out at Suntec, Jana and I headed over to Toa Payoh, where we planned to surprise Leila since she was on closing shift at the cinema. Very much missed the times at Eng Wah Suntec when we would work together, break together, eat together, crap together, basically BE TOGETHER.

Yes, the pay at Eng Wah Cinemas was minimum, but we had so much fun! Those were the times, seriously. I want to enjoy work like before. At least there was more camaraderie back in the Eng Wah days. Who the fuck enjoys going lunch/dinner break alone?!

I suggested that I could go back working at Eng Wah, but with a slew of resignations and an unfortunate loss, I just don't think things will be the same.

I need a new job lah.

Free, Freer, Freest

Contrary to popular belief, the word 'freer', meaning more free, is actually a proper word. Hence I am not wrong to use the word in my daily speech.

The Strangers and The Strangers the Movie

Despite bad reviews, still went to watch The Strangers today at Cathay Downtown East, this mall called E!Hub or something. What's up with the ambiguous names, seriously...

The place, OMFG, is just gaudy. It's got this cheap indoor ferris wheel thingy contaminating its facade, and the whole place got splashed with so much colour, it just screams gaudy. We walked into the lift, with no idea which floor to go to, since it wasn't properly labeled on which floor the box office was.

On level 4, it was still unclear where the box office was. I don't like it when tickets AND snacks share the same counter. I want to get tickets without having to fend off the glaring spotlights of the snackbar. When I do wanna get snacks, then I really don't mind the glaring spotlights! But tickets and snacks together? I don't get it.

And the ticketing staff wasn't too friendly. Not rude, yes, but not friendly either. Delivered her lines correctly, yes, but could do with a more pleasant facial expression. And I would love for more time to pick my seats. I really don't need anyone to rush me.

“How 'bout here?” (tap tap) “How 'bout this?” (tap tap)

I just feel like I'm such a horrible customer that she wants me outta her face pronto. 

Moving on, the usher was the worst lah, seriously. OMFG, rude, rude, rude!

He stood at his rostrum, head down, apparently occupied reading some highly important shit. I inched closer to him, hoping he'd look up. Alas! He fucking just reached out with one hand, with his head down! Hmm, REALLY important shit he must've been reading...

TSK!

And the movie was just typical of C-list movies lah...

Hot obscure actors and nice theatrical masks. Like the gay subtext with the 2 pubescent Christian boys with their bicycles towards the end.

Told You I Love My Job

Woke up one Tuesday morning, greeted with a text message from Sue-ann, telling me that my name appeared in the papers, something about hospitality at work.

See http://www.straitstimes.com/ST%2BForum/Story/STIStory_253339.html

I Still Love Colours

Apart from the socks, I got an oversized tee from the American Apparel store too! Just when I started to believe that I should only wear fitted clothes, I realised that I shouldn't rule out wearing baggy clothes. After all, it's not what you wear, it's how you wear it.

And why get it it 1 colour when you can have it in 7 all in one?!

Knee-High Socks Are Hot

For weeks now, I've been looking for knee-high socks. Maybe I'm looking in all the wrong places, but I just cannot seem to find them at all! Until I went online to the American Apparel store. Thank heavens!

So I ordered these 2 pairs from the online store, paid a bomb for shipping and my order reached my doorstep 3.5 days later!

My mother chided me for buying, for the love of god, SOCKS! online, and paying a bomb for them. But I thought it was well worth the money. I love American Apparel and I FINALLY GOT MY KNEE-HIGH SOCKS!

Factory Outlet Mall

It's true my first pay cheque was pathetic, but just having to see the figures go up in the bank account brought about such euphoria! It's been soooo long since I had money in my bank. My ATM card, due to prolonged periods of un-usage, is warped and cracked. You know how plastics degenerate if you leave them untouched for a long time, right?

Despite the pathetic pay, I still went shopping. I was dying to get a new pair of black shoes for work. And of course, I got a fantabulous pair of shoes from Pedro at Anchorpoint.

Anchorpoint is the obscure, unnoticed(though huge) outlet mall that is opposite Ikea at Alexandra Road. I've been to Ikea like a gazillion times, but failed to notice the existence of Anchorpoint Shopping Centre. I think it is safe to say that it's the only factory outlet mall in Singapore.

21 Dollars

Following the unfortunate shortage of 30 bucks on Saturday night, I went on to bring forth another shortage of 21 dollars on Wednesday night. Dammit lah..

The thing was, I delightfully helped a customer change her tickets, without checking properly where she got her tickets. So fast forward, fast forward, it turns out that her tickets belonged to some corporate event. I was NOT SUPPOSED to change the tickets for her.

Therefore, I had to fork out S$21(under credit, since I requested for it to be docked from my pay) to cover the cost of the new tickets that I churned out for the customer. The whole thing made me damned pissed, really.

I now have 2 tickets to Indiana Jones for tonight. So I basically paid the irritating customer 21 bucks for HER lousy seats, and she in turn used MY money to get GOOD seats for an alternate timeslot. 

Fuck lah, seriously. That's what I get for being nice to a customer?! It doesn't make sense ar, which really left me pissed beyond words.

But at least now I see the good in things, I'm much better. I'm coincidentally off today, and had made plans to go out at night, so the movie puts 2 hours of the night into good use, really.

The Heart-Shaped-Paper-Clip Gang

Seriously, what is up with the Paper Clip Gang?! (Let's just abbreviate and call them PCG, okay?)

The same teenage boy stopped me the first time outside Bugis Junction and another time at Bedok Interchange. Nabeh, they damned comprehensive ar...

The third time a PCG member stopped me was outside TheCathay.

The very first time I kena the PCG, I was patient, partly 'cause I was curious. From what I gather, the PCG is a group of students doing entrepreneurship, and the street-selling is supposed to train them in being persuasive salespeople with good communication skills. Riiiiiiiight. 

I guess they really have to pull all the stops in being persuasive, since what they're selling are paper clips. But those aren't just normal paper clips, okay. The PCG, so to quote, “put in effort to fold the paper clips into heart shapes”. Paper clips are mundane whereas heart-shaped paper clips are novelties.

The most ridiculous thing the PCG member told me was: “If we dun sell finish then cannot graduate,”

Hmmmmmmmm...

Actually, if I were him, then I'd just fork out 100 bucks, chuck the paper clips, return to 'entrepreneur school' with the money, and fucking graduate. Correct, anot?

I replied my subsequent PCG encounters with disinterested but polite waves of hand.

Birthday Recap: Secret Recipe Cakes

Because it was my birthday, and largely because I was broke, I just made people foot my share of the bill for me.

Kalis, Hairianto, Hui Yi and I met up on Sunday evening to dine at Secret Recipe. The food was such a bummer. But the cakes lived up to their name lah.

A slice of chocolate mud cake got served up to me with a lighted candle on it. So sweet... Both the cake and the gesture.

We fast forward to Monday evening, where I met Farid and Idil, who both just got back from JB. They were carrying 2 slices of Secret Recipe cakes as well, but all the way from across the Causeway, okay! Haha! Secret Recipe cakes still remain great even after you cross borders. And the best thing about crossing over to JB, the cakes cost only half as much. Half as much but still as good. Man, I love chocolate cakes...

But I didn't bloody suspect that the cakes were FOR ME. We were hanging around town for a bit, then we finally settled down at Spinelli's, as usual. And then I realised that the cakes were for me!

Again, sweet cakes, sweet gestures. I so did not see that coming. But what we all did not see coming was the cakes melting.

Farid peeked at the chocolate cake. Idil peeked at the chocolate cake. They started bitching for a bit. I peeked at the chocolate cake. I laughed my balls off lah!

Bloody hell, the cream and fudge had melted! What sat in the box was a dead white chocolate mess. Then we moved on to the oreo cheesecake in the other box. Dang! Barfed my ass off too! It was one dead ugly grotesque cheesecake.

Birthday Rip Off

In case you don't already know, my birthday falls on 18 May, which was yesterday.

The very first 'surprise' I got for my birthday happened within the first hour after the clock struck 12 on Saturday night.

I was at work, doing my closing after an ultra long day at the box office. I had a shitload of receipts, vouchers and money. So, I tried to be as quick as possible in doing my closing procedures, so the manager could round up my counter sales.

It was obvious something was not right when the manager was closing my account. Dang, I knew for sure that it had been a bad day. I was short of S$30.60.

SHORT! KNNBCCB! Shortage leh! Of all my previous ticketing experience, I'm 99.99% of the time exact! And for two weeks on the new job, my account had been pretty much exact, up until my birthday night.

What a fucking nice surprise. That's 30 bucks off from my first pay check, which I haven't even received. Damned bastard lah... But I guess if I don't feel the pinch, I won't really value my pay check then, would I?

And come to think of it, it is hugely unfair that I have to fork out the shortage because I wasn't the only one who handled the counter. Yes, it was under my BIG name, but the fact that there were other people who handled the counter, I, rightfully, cannot be held fully responsible for the shortage, right?

But nah, I'm not gonna be petty and bitchy to the manager. I'm going to let this pass as well.

I guess it's just too bad for me that the shortage occurred. In black and white, the sales account is in my name. And because we love being square and love to do things by the book, we just gotta dock the birthday boy's pay, don't we?

Talking about doing things by the book, don't you just hate paperwork?!

Okay. Scenario: Guy comes up to counter. Guy leaves counter. He leaves behind cardholder. Another guy comes up to counter. He notices cardholder. He hands it over to me. I check the cardholder. I keep cardholder at the counter at hand.

My ideal follow-up scenario: Guy returns to counter. Guy asks for lost cardholder. Guy describes cardholder. I return cardholder to guy with a smile.

The actual follow-up scenario: Colleague takes cardholder. He files cardholder as lost item. He fills up a form. He passes cardholder to manager. Manager keeps cardholder in safe. Guy returns to counter. Guy asks for cardholder. Guy describes cardholder. I go into office asking for cardholder. Colleague happens to be out. I am clueless. I ask Guy to wait. Colleague returns. Colleague is clueless. Colleague finds manager. Manager happens to be out. I ask Guy to wait. Guy waits. And waits. And waits. Manager returns. Colleague lugs out huge file of papers. Colleague talks to guy. Colleague goes into office. Guy waits. And waits. And waits. Colleague flits about. Guy waits. Colleague returns. Colleague returns cardholder to Guy.

Thanks eh, for the paperwork.

She REALLY Doesn't Like My Hair

My mother hates my hair. Period.

Back when I had it short and spiky, sides all cropped off, she hated it for being too funky and abnormal.

Then I had my hair longer, did a 5-inch mohawk, she hated it for being, well, over the top.

All right, then the mohawk went away and for some time, kept short, spiky hair again. My mother still hated my hair since it didn't look normal.

Then my hair grew thicker and longer, I had maximum styling with soft spikes. Of course, she hated it as well, for being too 'styled' and for using too much hair spray.

Subsequently, I went on quite some time without cutting my hair, frequently in caps, bandanas and headbands. Still my mother hated my hair for being messy, unkempt and too long.

With the headbands, my mother simply thought I was crazy. Needless to say, she hated the headband-side-parted hair.

Now that I've permanently given up on spiky hairdos, you'd think that my mother would not hate my hair so much. But no!

Even with my hair all flat down, 'cause I like it sleek and minimalistic now, she's still complaining about my hair. Yes, my fringe is long-ish, but I like it that way.

My mother's saying that my hair now is way too long, and with everything done down like that, it looks fake, like I'm wearing a wig. She had said that my hair looks like a lid capped over my head.

I don't think my mother will ever appreciate my hair.

Right now, I'm just focused on getting my hair down to chin-length, like I've always wanted!

I Love House Music And I'm Sharing It

You see, it's kinda bullshit when you say you like R&B music, therefore you don't like house music. You don't like techno, fine. But how can you not like house music?!

“American Boy” by Estelle feat. Kanye West

I Love House Music And I'm Sharing It

“Dancin'” by Aaron Smith feat. Luvli

“Gonna Be Mine” by T2 feat. Addictive

“What Planet You're On” by Bodyrox feat. Luciana

So Much To Say

Yes, I complained about my first week at work to friends, but at the end of the day, I truly think that I enjoy working. I love my customers, and hypothetically speaking, my customers love me too!

Just yesterday, a couple of elderly ladies was commenting on how Cathay cinemas have the best service standard, comparable to that of, so to quote, 'the gracious New Zealanders'. So they did not directly say that I provide quality service, but I'll just take it that they indirectly praised me. A little positivity wouldn't hurt, you know.

It's been a really hectic week for me. Work AND play. We get 24 hours a day, so why not maximise the hours to fit in work and play? Sleeping hours in this case really isn't an issue. I love sleeping, really. But now with work commitment, I think I can afford to forgo some of my sleeping hours, don't you think?

Last Thursday, I attended my first ever girl party. My philosophy is that you should NEVER have to pay to partay, but for that night, I forked out the cover charge despite being under a really tight budget. So I made sure I enjoyed myself, which I did, of course. Plus, I was basically energy-sapped from work, so it was a fabulous outlet to unwind.

Then for the weekends, I just worked into the late night. Thank goodness the company provided late night transportation home, but no thanks since I missed the transport for BOTH my midnight shifts.

I voluntarily made my own way home on Friday night, that was fine. But on Saturday, despite rushing my closing procedures so I wouldn't miss the transport, I still missed it anyways. Apparently, the manager had left me out in the transport list. I had no apology, no empathy, not even sympathy from the manager(s). All right, fine by me, I'm not petty, so I'm just gonna let it go.

You see, the thing about the management, they impose strict standards, but fail to be helpful and compassionate. My previous cinema employment saw more lax standards, but expressed much more compassion towards the staff. You gain some and you lose some; as always.

I've had over 2 years of experience working at a cinema, so I more or less get the hang of things. Occasionally, in total desperation, I will ask for help, only to receive half-hearted, impatient, sometimes ambiguous replies. Riiiight, leave to me my own, is it? Fine by me, really, I run one-man-shows to a tee, okay.

Yesterday was one such desperate moment. A couple came up to me, asking for an obscure promotion package. I was COMPLETELY clueless about the transaction mechanics, so I asked the managers for help since the only other colleague was busy. The queue was crazy long, I was stuck. Sure enough, I got quick and impatient verbal instructions from the managers.

The thing about me is, I work well with practical and actual examples, not theoretical ones. So by verbally telling me what I should do is equivalent to giving me a theoretical example. Henceforth, I was still clueless.

In a final act of desperation, I anxiously requested for one of the THREE managers to SHOW me what to key into the system. Then reluctantly, one of them came to the counters, pointed to me what I should key, then retreated back into the office promptly. Riiiight, that's much help, all right.

Eventually, I managed to figure out the rest of the transaction BY MYSELF. The manager only showed me half of what I needed to know. Don't you find that irritating? There's a queue full of fast-becoming disgruntled customers, and there I was, trying my best to be quick, but totally clueless at the same time, yet unable to get proper assistance!

Tsk...

Another thing that peeves me is when people want to correct me, but don't tell it to me face, choosing to send someone else to relay the message. The administrator wanted to warn me about keying in the wrong class of complimentary tickets, but sent an icky colleague to relay her message. All right, that's fine, I'm magnanimous and gracious like the New Zealanders, aren't I? So I can totally let that go too.

It just irks me to the core that the administrator, managers and colleagues especially, frequently drop the Oh-Then-You-Need-To-Pay bomb. FOR EVERY LITTLE THING! Like forgetting to print or retain receipts, forgetting to retain flyers, forgetting to get customers signatures, forgetting to record credit card details, etc.

Dang, the OTYNTP bomb sooooooooo does not work on me. I know for a fact that monetary wise, if anything's missing, I pay. If nothing's missing, then I'm safe. For all the aforementioned forgets, does any of them involve missing out on charging the customer?

No.

An ex-manager from my ex-cinema came by yesterday. It was a nice surprise, though it felt really weird. He made me feel much better by saying that I've kinda 'been there, done that', so the strict standards shouldn't really be an issue for me.

A few days back, a secondary schoolmate came up to my counter as well. And the funny thing was, she had met me while I was working back in Eng Wah too! Jumping from one cinema company to another seems to raise brows for some unknown reason.

Talking about brow-raising issues...my high waist line. Wearing pants on my waist is a new thing to me, newer thing to my friends. So I really couldn't help but look kinda weird at first. But you know what? I'm really getting used to the high-waistedness of the dress pants!

I just cannot stand when people ask me why I wear my pants so high. You should wear it lower, they say. The general stigma about wearing pants high on the waist: you look like a noob/geek/nerd/fugly/un-cool/un-fab.

Too bad I COMPLETELY disprove the stigma.

I Love Second Days At Work

It was a great second day of work. It just goes to show that first impressions are not necessarily wholly true.

But my first impression of them expecting a lot is true, though. The managers do expect a high standard of service. There is almost no room for error and you have to be lightning fast, highly efficient and still maintain superior accuracy.

I handled a box office counter today. I was friendly, as always, but couldn't help but become slightly retarded when it came to transacting. It took me a while to get used to the system interface, while trying to remember the different ticket types. I'm glad to say I banished my fears and decided to be gung-ho instead. Nothing pumps me up better than a confidence boost.

I know the managers expect a lot because I made a SINGLE, MINOR boo-boo earlier on and it was as though the world had come crashing down. It really seemed like there was NO room for error. My 'buddy' went few metres away, speaking in hushed tones with the manager regarding my minor boo-boo. And I just looked on, puzzled at what the big hoo-ha was about.

A while later, my 'buddy' told me that things were fixed. Moments after that, the manager came up to me, advising me on what to do so as not to commit the same mistake again. Riiiiiiiiight...

So the afternoon went on and I began to enjoy myself. I surprise myself by adapting rather quickly. I could REALLY get used to working at the box office now!

The pants are killing me, though. With gravity, the leather belt digs downwards into my flesh, against the pelvis. I have good reason to expect bruises on the sides of my hips very soon. Plus, in the words of Michael Kors, 'the crotch of the pants is just insane'.

I Hate First Days At Work

First day at work today. I would say that it kinda sucked because I can't really said that it was good.

Based on first impressions, the staff aren't all that friendly, they don't really value good customer service, they expect too much from me and they don't help me enough.

I felt like an outcast on two accounts, both of which I will not speak of, since it's kinda sensitive and personal. I really do not enjoy the whole trying-to-gain-acceptance game. It's childish and pointless. So I'm just going to be the friendly and outgoing me, whether they like it or not. I'm here, I'm here, get used to it.

I was assigned to the box office, which I feel is an apt allocation. I have the face, I have the hair, I have my hot buns, and I have the attitude. Sorry I had to put myself on such a high pedestal, but just take it with a pinch of salt, yeah?

I seemed exceptionally high up because I had my freaking pants high up on my waist, giving the illusion of never-ending legs. I seriously could get used to the high-waisted-ness of the pants though. I don't mind having long legs 'cause, like a certain appendage, there is no such thing as 'too long'.

The waistband of my pants went up my body 3-fucking-inches, all right?! That's how much length I added to my legs and how much length I freaking deducted from my body!

When I met up with the lepak group of friends later, there was a soft wave of chuckles and sniggers. But I couldn't help it, the pants either went on the waist or the hips. No pants can ever sit within that 3-inch space between the waist and hip. It was either or. And I absolutely had NO CHOICE but to wear my pants high-waisted, all right?

The pants thing became a non-issue after that because they were all busy checking out my ass, which made me self-conscious! But what harm could a little attention to the gluteus do?

So at the box office, I was attached to this other girl, whom the other counter staff said was the best employee or something, somewhat the managers' pet. One word: Questionable.

I do not respond well to lectures. I do not absorb information by verbal delivery. I absorb information really well if I experience it first-hand. I'm just a hands-on person. I need to learn on the job. And I can't help but feel apologetic for appearing uninterested and distant when my trainer was giving me her so-they-say wise words.

She had asked, “Eh, I talk so much you never write down, you sure can remember or not?”

Hmm... Wrong approach on me. And from what I hear, the managers are expecting a lot. Maybe a little too much. I may have cinema ops experience, but it doesn't mean I don't need time to adjust to the ticketing system, right?

I was specifically instructed 'not to touch anything, just watch'. Oops, I can't touch, I can't feel, hence I can't learn. It's one thing to see, whole other thing to do. I'm very anal when it comes to these things. I like it my way.

And why can't people be more helpful and empathetic? Tsk...

It's okay, the first day will not bring me down. It may be kinda awkward while I get used to things, but at least I get to show off my ass in those high-waisted dress pants, don't I?

Hahahahahahahaha!...

Me, Myself and Dress Pants

I'm really looking forward to working come Monday. I really REALLY need the money coming in for myself. Talking about work, they require me to be donned in a black polo tee, black dress pants and black dress shoes.

Yes, I love black, but I don't think I love it so much that I'd dress myself in FULL black. I do not have a black polo tee and I do not, for nuts, own black dress pants. All right, to be fair, I do own those items; just that the polo tee's really worn out and the dress pants are hideous.

Dress pants are unquestionably inconsistent with my style. I've learnt that the one thing I should NOT wear is dress pants. But in this case, I don't think I have a choice, do I?

Dress pants sit on the waist and I NEVER wear pants on my waist. Frankly, I only do wear jeans and shorts. And they all sit on the hips, not the waist. Anything that sits on my waist makes me look bad. I'm more of a short-torso-long-legs body proportion(so to balance it out, create the illusion of longer torso by visually creating a lower waistline, therefore pants worn lower down the body on the hips, yeah?), so I found myself in a conundrum when I realised that I HAD TO wear dress pants.

I'm prone to deluding myself, so it is my belief that dress pants are gaudy because they're straight-legged and loose-fitting. I've gone skinny and I am bent on not going back to the straight legs. Fitted, fitted, fitted! ALWAYS wear fitted clothes, I tell myself.

So today, I went in search for slim-fit dress pants. Thank goodness they made dress pants slim. I hate for my legs to have to 'swim' in the pants. And I especially hate when the excess leg room fabric flops around.

I went to G2000 and immediately froze up in shock. Executive wear scares the shit out of me! It's the one thing that I will refrain from wearing as much as possible. [That's why art school is a fabulous idea. I wear what I want, what I like, how I like. And I simply dress sharper for presentations. You know how polytechnics require students to be in 'formal attire', which is essentially dress shirt, dress pants(O, M, G, I HATE THE DRESS PANT!) and dress shoes for presentations? *shudders*]

All right, so I hastily left G2000 and went into Topman. I remembered seeing slim-fit dress pants on the racks a looooooooong time ago. Since it was ancient, almost dead stock, the salesguy recommended I try the bootcut pants instead. I gasped out loud, exclaiming that I cannot even stand wearing straight-leg, much less bootcut! But I decided to have some fun and went to try the bootcut dress pants. OH MOMMY, THEY GAUDIER!

Personally, I don't patronise the Topshop chains, but I have to say that the salesguy at Suntec was the most approachable and most helpful of them lot. Most of the sales staff have some kinda of queer, repellant aura that turns me off.

Eventually, I ended up at Domanchi. It's really just these few places to get decent dress pants, you know. I feel like I've become too concise in my shopping. Maybe Singapore's just getting smaller. I've become rather site-specific as well. Like if I'm at Bugis Street, I'm really only looking for shades. If I'm at Far East Plaza, I'm really just thinking of getting bandanas or some other shits from Lips Enterprise, and of course my favourite American Apparel tees...

Domanchi stocked slim-fit dress pants, much to my delight. But I was served my a Chinese lady, so I basically had to uncomfortably flick-switch to speaking Mandarin. I get nervous when speaking to a native Chinese tongue since I'll become conscious about speaking good Mandarin. I don't have problems speaking Mandarin, but when I get nervous, I fumble for words.

Apparently, slim-fit dress pants are becoming ancient stock. I had to settle for something slightly smaller than I would be comfortable with. It was irritating how the saleslady insisted that I try the normal straight-legged pants, when I specifically mentioned that I wanted the slim-legged ones instead.

I couldn't contemplate any further and just got the pants anyhow. I didn't want to stress out over the no-choice-but-to-wear-gaudy-dress-pants situation. I'll make it work somehow...

P.S. The pants I got sits on my WAIST! I'll try to embrace the change, after years of having pants on the hips.

P.P.S. It's amazing how much I can rant about dress pants, eh?

P.P.P.S. Dress pants are NOT gaudy. Dress pants are gaudy only when they're ON MY BODY.

Back To The Cinema, People

So I've been jobless for over 6 months now. Sucks to be broke. Sucks even more to have to depend on my mother to give me money. But still I survive on pocket money.

Okay, a little confession here. I admit I've been making 'illegal' purchases electronically with my mother's card. Just a CD here and there, and pricey magazines every now and then. Call it self-delusional, but I can easily convince myself that my purchases are worthwhile and non-impulsive.

I mean, I heard Sia Furler's song, fell in love with her VOICE, found out she's gay, fell in love with HER; so it's only normal that I go down to HMV (almost) immediately to get her album, right?

So anyways, I've a guaranteed payroll at the end of May, that's for sure.

The haircut I got was almost like a burden lifted off me. I felt damned shiok after the cut! It's like all-the-boys-and-girls-on-the-streets-so-wanna-do-me kind of shiok. I just felt really good.

Strangely, I felt ready to go back working, having money coming in for myself. For the past few months. I've been complaining about how lazy I was to go back working. The haircut did wonders for me! Thank goodness Hairianto still kept in touch with the ultra fab stylist, Noreen.

On Monday, I spontaneously dropped by the cinema at Handy Road and asked for a job. I filled up the form, had a chat with the 'kak'['sister' in street-Malay(??); informal, but respectful manner of address], and bam! I'm reporting for work on the following Monday.

BAM! That's how it is! Easy, breezy! (Okay, this is my shout out to Ed. Alright Ed, this is where you do the Covergirl commercial lines, yeah?)

I brushed aside all my prejudices for cinema operations, didn't give two hoots about the some-say-meagre pay rates and with a burst of desperation, dived right back into working at a cinema.

I realised my prejudices for cinema ops stemmed from the previous company. I didn't have a problem with cinema operations. My real problems were with the company. So I was being really unfair to myself by refusing to go work for another cinema company.

I want to work-work and get paid and treated REASONABLY, not slack-work and get paid and treated MINIMALLY. Minimalism is the 'in' thing, but just not when we're talking about paychecks, yeah?

Extra Prata For The Dog

My mother returns home, with 2 packs of rice and an odd-one-out packet of prata.

So I was in the kitchen with my mother, and she tells me that the prata is extra, either my brother or I could have it. It was not as though I was going to talk to my brother, much less negotiate with him who gets the prata! (My mother tends to put us in situations where we kinda have to negotiate. But of course, I really can't care less. I've met assholes in my life, my brother being the biggest one.)

A while later, the asshole enters the kitchen, and my mother asks him if he wants the prata.

The asshole farted, “才不要！那个是给狗吃的！” (I don't want the prata, that's for the dog!)

Well, ‘狗’ or 'dog' refers to me in a more affectionate way. I told you he's an asshole...

As usual, I ignore his snide remarks. I've been conditioned to shut him out of my system.

My mother then left the kitchen to take a snooze. I settled down on the dining table with my dinner. In front of me on the table were my brother's portion of dinner and the extra prata.

Just as I was working into my dinner, the asshole came back to the kitchen, grabbed his dinner, AND THE PACKET OF PRATA.

Is that an effing asshole or an effing huge-ass asshole?!

The Things I Record In My Journal

As creative entities, we take much pride in keeping journals. I, personally, put my journal on a pedestal. A creative journal is highly personal. We do not like people snooping through our journals. We record our thoughts, our observations, or inspirations, etc.

There can be extremely creative content in a journal, yet there can be downright stupid stuff too! I personally like to record stupid stuff. Especially during note-taking in lectures. Lecturers say the funniest things some times.

The excerpts from my journal that I'm sharing now date back to early 2006, when I was in Nanyang Polytechnic. I really only stayed a year there, doing Digital Media Design. Bleargh! I hated it.

So there's this Web Design lecturer, let's call her Pam, who I found to be particularly annoying at first, then became more endearing later on in the semester.

For some reason, she nagged a lot. And she wasn't exactly auntie-material, you know. I didn't know where her stamina to nag and deliver pep talks came from. I did a quick sketch of her from the back of the lecture theatre and it turned out looking pretty accurate.

And she cannot enunciate properly for nuts! It was kinda excruciating to listen to her bad enunciation, so to make myself feel better, I had to put it down on paper. The 'librarieees', 'prop-ly's, 'ex-peck's and 'suspen-dird's.

“...80% to think, think and think. Don't just do, do, do...”

The thing about lecturers in polytechnics, they think they're all that. [As opposed to students in art schools(see: me) who think they're all that.] So back in my NYP days, there was a bit of an ego clash, weren't there? With the lecturer(s) and me thinking we're all that.

So Pam gave her two cents worth on how we can produce good, quality work, by saying we should think more than we do. Riiiiiiight. I cannot necessarily agree with that.

OH MY EFFING GAWD! For the finale, the strangest, queerest, most eyebrow-raising 'advice' Pam ever gave:

“Do not be a chicken; neither be a cock,”

OMG, that is so classic, don't you think?

Deep Fried Hotdog Rolls, Marlboro Reds and Ginger

I spent the most of today in bed. Sleeping, lazing around, but on Facebook most of the time. I think I'm one of the many many people who live their lives on Facebook.

Anyways, in the afternoon, I was rummaging the fridge for food. I've to say, something smells funky in there. I found half a pack of sausages(5 pieces) at best and settled for it.

Hit by a brain wave, I flattened slices of bread with a rolling pin, rolled a hotdog in each slice, 'glued' the roll together with egg white and dunked the rolls into a pan of hot oil.

It was bad. But I was hungry and lazy.

So I had my snack in bed, watched a couple of episodes of How I Met Your Mother and took a nap.

The next thing I knew, I was feeling damned hot, yet freezingly cold at the same time. I fucking incubated a fever!

I only have myself to blame, really. On top of the 5 oily hotdog rolls, I was smoking reds. Seriously, I should just stick to menthol cigarettes.

Since I incubated the fever, I had all the rights to kill it, don't I? Not to sound like a braggart, but I make one helluva fever-killer. Popped a couple of Panadol Extra, downed water, smothered my forehead with aloe vera gel, warmed up my freezing toes and snuggled under the blanket for 30 minutes and I felt so much better.

Just as I felt ready to step out of bed, my mother returns home with fish porridge. I suddenly got my appetite back and had a mad craving for, well, ginger. I don't know where I've heard it from, but ginger is supposed to be one of the many traditional fever-reducing remedies, right?

So despite being slightly feverish and groggy, the first thing I did after getting out of bed was doing the dishes. I made an oily mess earlier in the afternoon with the hotdog rolls. After which, I managed to patiently and leisurely julienne a small piece of ginger.

I mixed the ginger strips into the fish porridge, ate it and poof! I'm fruity and up and about and good as new!

I Love House Music And I'm Sharing It

“Mercy” by Duffy. Just a really infectious track.

(Duffy's Welsh! The Welsh accent is incredibly sexy. Ever watched Little Britain, where Dafydd Thomas is the 'only gay in the village'?

)

Okay, back to the music video:

The next 2 songs are covers of older classics.

“Buffalo Stance” originally performed by Neneh Cherry back in, OMFG, the 80's. Look at the style of the video. It's cheesy, it's tacky, but the old school vintage vibe to it is very cool.

This is the Electric Allstars Club mix by DC Roc.

“If You Love Me” by Brownstone in 1994. The old school R&B still sounds the best. Before I got hooked on house music, I was an R&B kinda person. And I have no idea why people think that exclusively R&B-listening people will NOT enjoy house music.

I've a friend who 'only listens to R&B'. When I let him sample like 10 seconds of funky house, he claims the beat gives him a headache.

I specifically love funky house music, so I suppose if you like strong rhythm and beat, then R&B and house will both sound great.

And O M F G, house music is NOT AH-BENG TYPE OF MUSIC. (That's techno, okay! Hahaha!... Ok, ok, let's not stereotype people based on their music preference.)

“If You Love Me” the Thomas Gold remix, now by Buzz Junkies (Buzz Junkies on Facebook here.) featuring Elesha.

Alright, frankly, this song makes me cry. I hear it in the club, and it's awesome 'cause it gets me high and all, but IT JUST MAKES ME CRY!

Jump Shots

I spent the night yesterday chilling in Little India and Lasalle College.

I met Jana and Nadia to help them with their textile studies, doing what I do best, screenprinting and all. (The screenprinting bit on Wordpress, please.)

It was past midnight.

We were done printing.

I was bored.

The studio was huge.

Hence, I cam-whored.

But I've to say I cam-whore with zeal and enthusiasm, okay!

And the best shot, in my opinion, is:

I realised that if you long enough at the pictures, I actually look really stupid. I mean, I'm sure you already think I'm pretty insane 1)taking jump shots; 2)in the middle of the night; 3)in the school studio. But when you see the photos, I just look REALLY insane.

But what can I say, I'm a zany person. And I wasn't even acting under the influence of alcohol. I suppose screenprinting gets me high..

Wet Market

Remember how I was griping about rubbing shoulders with fishy-smelling aunties at the wet market?

Well, I finally shopped for groceries at the wet market! Well, strictly speaking, I cheated because I only went shopping around noon. You know how aunties NEVER go wet-marketing after 8 or 9AM, right?! So at noon, there was basically no one else to rub shoulders with me. Haha!

But at least I made an effort to show up at the wet market to get groceries, right?

It was a lazy morning, as usual, and I was exceptionally hungry and horny.

You know, I'm really the kind of people that can substitute sex with food. I know I have to stop harping on the fact because it is neither glamourous nor polite. But what the heck.

So I decided to whip up a storm in my kitchen. I NEED FOOD.

I looked at the rice cooker, sitting idly for some time now, and thought to myself, “OMG, I'll cook the perfect rice today,” Which of course, I didn't. It was almost perfect, just a tad too soggy when I fried it later.

Hmm, I'm sorry if were waiting for the moral of the story, 'cause there isn't any.

Happy 20th, Hairianto!

All right, Hairianto's birthday was last Friday, so to wish him here seems a bit belated, but what the heck.

Spying Couples, Partying and Mustafa Centre

I was at the kitchen window late one night, when I caught sight of a couple lovey-dovey-ing on the bench downstairs. I don't have fabulous eyesight, so I saw 2 guys instead. 

Hence, I spied a wee bit more and took a grainy('cause I zoomed in to the max on my lousy compact camera) picture. Nah, it wasn't 2 guys. The girl's just a bit full.

Anyways, back to late-night activities, went partying last Saturday. It was a boring night for me. I guess I was slightly perturbed subconsciously. Plus I didn't quite 'feel' the need to party. So I just had a so-so time.

HOWEVER, I did bump into unexpected people, namely, secondary schoolmates Jack and some others. I swear, it was fucking unexpected. I think I freaked out for a bit. Haha!... (But Jack, if you reading this, then it was nice to see you on Saturday night! And Eelen and Kenneth and whoever I missed out, too! Hahaha!...)

It was a full-fledged lazy day for me, too, so it was difficult to let loose and get high. Well, Taufiq got high, that's for sure. Remember Taufiq my online friend that I finally just met? (Rewind a couple of posts to read about it.)

I bumped into him at the club too. Apparently, he was damned high and crazy at that point in time. I think in low light conditions and perhaps under the influence of alcohol, people behave differently. No inhibitions and all... Haha!..

Later into the night, Ghani saved me with his call. 1 hour later, we were at Mustafa Centre!

O M G! Mustafa Centre is heaven, okay! I've really only been there once, when I NEEDED to get myself a discman. (Yes, I'm using a discman. Or portable CD player, if you'd like to call it. Old skool and vintage, right...) And it was at night. This time, it was MIDDLE of the night, since they're open 24/7.

To quote Ghani, “They have all sorts of junk here,” Which is pretty true. But junk is treasure to me, so Mustafa centre is more like a treasure trove to me.

Ghani and I were checking out cowboy hats and trench coats(they really DO have everything) when Jana called me for directional help. Apparently, she got herself stranded in Pasir Ris. But all was fine.

Little India is a nice place. I'm not racist, so I enjoy the place. Plus the best thosai is in Little India. I'm very glad it's near campus. I mean, even in my art school 'uniform', I'd still charge right into Little India and eat thosai with my hands, okay!

Mas Selamat At Large A Joke?

The newspapers have been saying that we're not taking the Mas Selamat escape seriously, making jokes out of it.

So I thought, would it be funny if I made a Mas Selamat mask, wore it out, and went shopping at, say, Topman?

Friends I Finally Meet

Yesterday was an exceptionally good day. I finally met 2 of my online friends.

First things first, meeting people on the Internet is not sleazy, desperate nor unfathomable. It only gets sleazy when people abuse it.

I bumped briefly into Samuel in town. He's a fellow-blogger-turned-friend., who later tracked me down on a social site. You dare tell me that's sleazy and desperate?!

Apparently, he spotted me from afar, and was staring at me. As for me, I really don't notice people until they're right up in my face. I'm normally in my own world. (Note: In my own world; not lost in my own world. I NEVER feel lost in my own world.)

So by the time I noticed Samuel staring at me, I only had time for a double take. After we crossed paths several metres, he waved at me. I returned a smile, feeling puzzled. I didn't know for sure if it was him, but somehow, I just 'felt' that it was him.

You see, I really have seen only ONE ambiguous display pic of his, so I can't really be too sure.

No time to stop for a chat, but I was glad 'cause it was serendipitous.

Later into the day, I met Taufiq, who I met solely on a social site. See? This is making good use of social sites. They are there for a reason and they actually WORK.

We were texting each other the day before and I only 'replied' yesterday. I don't think it's fair to count a 24-hour late reply as a 'reply' eh? Haha!

It turned out that he was at Bugis, so we arranged an impromptu meet-up. It was great to finally meet him as well.

Virtual friends 'morphing' into real-life beings; 'tis a strange feeling...

Mug Shot

The mug shot is addictive! The more I look at it, the more I like it! Maybe I'll turn it into a screenprint, I dunno... I look like Mas Selamat's accomplice... Hahaha!~

Redirection

Okay, new posts up on TheNuFlow@Wordpress instead.

I realised that it's wayyy too cluttered on Blogger. I got too much shit. 

So I'm diverting all creative endeavours to Wordpress instead. 

I got into a manic bout of screenprinting again, which is very much of a good thing, if you asked me. I was so afraid that I might somehow lose my basal flair for arty-farty-craft-y stuff.

It sometimes get disturbing when I see and feel myself more like an artist than a designer. A designer still get bound by constraints and regulations. And I can not, for nuts, function with restraints. I like to do what I like, when I like, how I like.

It's one of those traits that could either make or break you. I just think about making it rather than breaking it. It is better to be optimistic.

I Miss Figure Drawing

Simplification: A Little Says A Lot

I was in queue to get fried oyster. It's one of those incredibly popular stalls at the hawker centre, so there was a high influx of customers. They came in, well, all shapes, colours [(!!) I mean the clothes eh...] and sizes.

So to keep sane and keep track of the takeout orders, the hawkers developed their own system of symbols to match customers with their respective orders. With a humble ball-point pen, they do a quick visual scan of the customer and scribble on the takeout styrofoam box:

Aww, isn't that bloody cute?! The angel-in-trouble smiley face is so accidental that it makes me happy. It's accidental things like that that truly constitutes 'happy' design. 

So I dissect the ball-point scribble:

Incredible, incredible, incredible! And very clever too! Gender wise, I feel strongly that it's 'M vs. W' rather than 'M vs F'. Man vs. Woman; not Male vs. Female.

The letter 'F' is a hindrance to scribble. 'W' makes for much easier scribbling. Plus, 'W' makes the smiley face smile, don't you think?!

Let's Whoop And Cheer And Make Noise

My 24-year-old ass-for-a-bro, I repeat, TWENTY-FUCKING-FOUR-FUCKING-YEAR-OLD brother(why we're blood-related is beneath me) needs to grow up, pronto.

First of all, he fucking bastard me for smoking. It was one fine Sunday morning when I let my guard down and he happened to be there at the right time to catch me smoking.

He stared at me in the eye. May I remind you, I don't talk to him, I don't look at him, I don't bother about him. Basically, I just cannot give two hoots about him. Talk about brotherly love! LOL.

So first he stared, then he started grinning slyly. And then, O M F G, the asshole started whooping and clapping! He immediately proceeded to call my mother on the phone.

I have to say, there's nothing like news for busting someone to bring two cold war parties together! My brother and mother were kinda in the middle of their usual cold war, and suddenly they're talking?!

For a fact, I know my brother smokes too. I've personally witnessed him smoking in public and what do I do? Do I go squealing to my mommy? No, I don't. Do I clap my hands in glee and whoop like a monkey? No, I don't.

Today, the asshole mopped the floor. I was in the room sleeping, recuperating from last night's partying. All I have to say is, thank goodness I was done resting when he mopped the room floor, because he made such a din! Yeah, I know, right? Since when is mopping the floor a noisy affair?

There is a drawer bed underneath me, and the mattress on the drawer makes funny noises. There's something cranky with the spring coils, so when you move on the mattress, the coils make squeaky, snappy sounds.

The fucking asshole enjoyed mopping under the bed the most 'cause that's where he gets to make most noise. He pulled out the drawer bed, sat cross-legged on it, and being the circus monkey that he is, starts humping the mattress(!!), in effort to make as much noise as possible.

He plunged the mop under the bed, deliberately knocking the handle of the mop against the bed frame. So he went, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock...

And when he was done, he haphazardly pushes the drawer bed in, bumping it hard on the bed frame many times. That of course, sent shock waves to me, who was unfortunately sleeping on the bed.

And the whole time, the ghastly fluorescent light was on! The one thing I can't stand most is when I have light in my eyes when I sleep.

After all his circus monkey tricks, I woke up and went to the kitchen for some dinner. I felt incredibly bored. It wasn't a good circus show at all.

That monkey needs a great deal of growing up. And I think I've said that 2 years ago too.

Sia Furler

“The Girl You Lost To Cocaine” by Sia Furler. I first listened to the Stonebridge vocal remix though. Love it, love it, love it.

And whether you like it or not, I'm fucking ecstatic because Sia's gay! Haha! I have an inborn penchant for lesbian vocalists! Tell me I'm deluded, but I strongly think lesbians make great musicians! 

Sia came out as lesbian on AfterEllen.com; article here.

P.S. Did you see her goofy moves while grooving to the music? Adorable!

P.P.S Sigh, Season 5 of The L Word wraps up with it's finale. Plenty of questions left unanswered. There's like 8 more months before the 6th and final season starts. I don't know what else to watch online anymore. Suggestions?

The Righteous Will Inherit The Land And Dwell In It Forever

It's a lazy Saturday morning, I'm surfing some brainless, vapid stuff on the Net while blasting off music and there's a knock at the door.

They always say, do not open doors to strangers. But what they say precisely not to do, I do it. 

At first I was greeted by nothingness. I thought it might be some neighbourhood pranksters playing the fool, but then a middle-aged couple appeared. (They later introduced themselves as Mr. Aw and Mdm. Tan.)

So they started with small, casual talk, making me comfortable. Then the asked the most random question: “Have you thought about your life, your future?”

WTF?! It's a late and lazy morning and my brain's not recharged. And yet, they shot me with the most profound question. For a moment, I stood there dumbfounded, hemming and hawing away. 

Not long after, I found myself telling them about my definitive career path in the creative industry. I think they got taken aback because that wasn't the answer they were looking for. Because as 'volunteers' from wherever they're from, they're more looking for answers along the line of: “I haven't thought about my life or future! I just study and work and make money and retire. My life is mundane and routine,”

All right, they heard about my life's calling and they were glad and supportive. Then somehow or other, Mr. Aw started talking about global warming and terrorism. He started talking about how volatile the world is, how Beijing and Japan would sink into the oceans due to global warming, how terrorism is an imminent threat and WHAT I WAS GOING TO DO ABOUT IT.

He stressed that these were matters of grave concern and that I should give my future a thought while factoring in the aforementioned matters.

The whole time, I was dying to ask for which organisation they were representing, because to have people knocking on doors on a lazy morning asking spiritual questions is slightly out of line. My doubts were more or less cleared up when Mr. Aw whipped out the Bible.

Referring to Psalm 37, which is a poem with many stanzas, Mr Aw. showed me a few stanzas and how they correlate to the things he had said.

11th stanza: But the meek will inherit the land and enjoy great peace

38th stanza: But all sinners will be destroyed;...

“Sinners including terrorists, murderers and criminals...” Mr. Aw explained.

29th stanza: The righteous will inherit the land and dwell in it forever

Okay, Mr. Aw reads this stanza and stops short at 'it', which I suppose was cue for me to complete the sentence for him by saying 'forever.' But I think I gave him the what?!-can't-you-read-no-more look! Haha!...

Okay, so the stress point was on FOREVER. The act of living forever. Growing old, but staying youthful, living FOREVER.

He asked me what I thought of eternal life. I said that I didn't really have much solid opinion on that.

So he asked if I'd like eternal life. Stump me once; stump me twice...

He asked if it was possible to live forever. Stump me twice; stump me thrice...

Sheesh, I suppose it was excruciating for me, hence it became excruciating for them as well. I might deduce that they were looking for answers like, “Yes, I'd love to live forever, growing old, but staying youthful. Eternal life is like a dream!”

Because Mr. Aw and Mdm. Tan were quick to presume that eternal life comes across as an unachievable dream to me. But fact is, I've got no bloody opinion on that!

They left shortly after, stressing how I should give my life and future much serious thought.

“Thank you Mr. Kang, we'll talk to you again,”

All riiiiiiight...

There's Hope

Did some quiz thingy from Sheryl's blog; basically just writing people and song names in 11 numbered slots and they later correlate the numbers to make sense of what you filled in.

I'm not going into details, just summarising and going straight to the point.

Under numbers 10 and 11, I filled up the song titles 'Without You' and 'There's Hope' respectively. Turns out, the song title in number 10 reveals what's on my mind, and that in number 11 reflects on my view of life.

I'm Without You, but There's Hope to life.

ZOMG. They don't call it 'scarily' true for nothing, I guess.

Good, hopeful song from India Arie anyways. “There's Hope,”:

Do Not Spook Thyself Out

I got home tonight, all hot and sweaty from the weather. They say it's cooler at night, but I find myself perspiring even more at night! A short walk from say, Heeren Shops to Far East Plaza leaves me perspiring like a pig! I need to do something about my hyperactive sweat glands. My mother says that acupuncture can fix the excessive sweating.

Anyways, my bandana-turned-headband* was horrendously half-soaked with icky perspiration and I didn't have the conscience to leave it overnight for bacteria to fester, so I washed it briefly.

(*I got 3 new bandanas from Lips Enterprise; and you didn't hear it from me, but I paid S$8 for 3 of 'em. I don't really care what people say/perceive/notion-conceive, I'm into wearing bandanas. I think it's alleged evidence from a fashion crime scene, but hey, criminals CAN be GOOD people too, you know.

Because I don't have money for proper clothes, I've decided to just jazz up and accessorise. And the square piece of cloth happens to be ultra versatile, making it the ultimate accessory for me. Bandana, check. Neckerchief, check. Headband, check. Wristband, check. À la-Boy-Scout scarf, check.

Lastly, it's not WHAT you wear; it's HOW you wear it.)

So I wrung the cloth dry and seeing how it's night and no one airs their laundry out anymore, I took the liberty to flick the excess water from the cloth out the kitchen window.

Then I recalled someone saying that, superstitiously speaking, airing laundry out at night will attract some form of spirit. And I immediately regretted my actions. What I did was equivalent to airing laundry out, right?

As soon as I was consumed with regret, somewhere downstairs, a dog barks.

A. DOG. BARKS.

And we all know how dogs have the extra-perception towards all things paranormal, right? *shudders*

I stood still 2 metres from the kitchen window, looking out into the night, half-expecting something to rise from the dark.

Get On Your Verve!

Are you on VerveEarth yet?

三分钟热度

从小，我妈就说我做事只靠三分钟热度。

Sorry, I am unable to continue in Chinese. But I'm still getting credit for effort, right? I'm game to speak Mandrin and use the Chinese language, okay! People say I 吃马铃薯(jiak kan tang) doesn't mean I don't acknowledge my Chinese roots lor. Just that I'm more fluent with English.

So I'm talking about short-lived enthusiasm now. And as I was saying, my mother says that I have short-lived enthusiasm, especially when I was much younger.

Like the time when I used to buy origami papers like my life depended on it; I mean, they were dirt cheap back in the days, so it didn't really hurt the meagre primary school allowance lah, huh. Paper cranes, paper tulips, paper ball(you puff the folded structure up into a cube-ish looking 'ball') and of course that silly contraption you play with both index fingers and thumbs? The mouth-like thingy you can open and close and stuff.

Oh, then I think the origami square papers went a bit out of fashion, and I moved on to elongated strips of paper—making stars and hearts. Hey, they were 3D okay, it was so much fun back then. I remember chucking out huge containers of stars, hearts and mini-cranes.

Moving on, remember the long and thin straws that were supposed to glow-in-the-dark? You make plastic straw roses outta them. Oh, and sometimes straw stars. Then somehow the hobby kinda dissolved lah. I guess things do get boring and monotonous if they become routine.

So short-lived enthusiasm? I'd probably say it is. Say I'm dismissing the fact, running away from it or feigning ignorance, but why can't it mean that I liked trying new things? I suppose curiosity led me to doing new stuff every now and then, which, as a result, appeared that I have short-lived enthusiasm.

Till now, though, I find myself needing to break monotony as day to day routine really kills me. It's nice to look back and find similarities. Makes me feel more whole. Haha!... You know, at least now I know the三分种热度didn't come from nowhere. Plus, dang!, I've been bloody craft-y since young. It's in my blood to be incredibly hands-on(literally) in everything.

I Can't Stop Cooking

Nowadays, I cannot stop cooking! I realised that cooking makes me feel good. I mean, I would love to shop for clothes, but without money coming in, I can only deal with the current situation lor.

I think shopping in general is therapeutic, regardless it being fashion, food, gadgets, whatnots. And since my budget is tight, grocery shopping seems to be my only viable way out.

I fucking enjoy going to supermarkets. I know I get better deals and better quality at the wet market 5 minutes away from home, but somehow, I can't find the courage to rub shoulders with fishy-smelling aunties and sweaty uncles. In my head, I always have the scene of me grocery shopping at the wet market, being all friendly and casual with the uncle at the vegetable store, the auntie at the poultry store and the lovely couple at the seafood store. I get courage through that, but when it comes down to the actual thing, I chicken out and retreat to shopping at the supermarket instead.

Okay, and with the new kitchen utensils I got from Ikea, I'm simply enthused and revved up to cook up a storm over and over again! I've never really been happy with my kitchen, main peeve being the lack of counter space, but we deal, we deal, right? My mother says I complain too much. Some things I can't help lah, huh. Just have to make do with.

I made especially good friends with the S$3.90 frying pan. DIRT CHEAP SIAH! $3.90 for a frying pan leh! And since I finally got a frying pan, I instinctively wanted to make pancakes. I'm not too sure if I were that big on EATING it, but I knew for sure I was damned into MAKING it.

Therefore, for a week, I flipped and flipped and flipped pancakes day and night! Damn, it was fun. Just the frying pan, butter, pancake mix and me. No spatula or other hand-held utensils. I remember watching Surreal Gourmet and Yan Can Cook flipping stuff in a pan and they provided tips and all, so I was dying to try flipping pancakes myself.

The first couple of times were pretty bad, but nothing like having pancakes stuck to the ceiling or pancakes all over the kitchen tiles lah! Just pancakes with anomalies. I learnt that you should just be gung ho and toss lor. And I have to say, for a person like me with exceptionally trashy aiming skills, I did exceedingly well having the pancake land in the middle of the pan. Most times, at least.

The first few batches I had my pancakes with bananas. Then I had them with strawberries. It's fun having to slice things up too. And with the new knife set from Ikea, I just try and find any possible excuse to use the knives. I've never had a bread knife at home ever, so when preparing for Kalis' bday brunch picnic, I derived so much joy from cutting up 2 loaves of bread into small squares! Hahaha!...

I was basically living my kitchen fantasies lah, huh.

Jung Personality Test

As of today, my results are as such:

ENFP - "Journalist". Uncanny sense of the motivations of others. Life is an exciting drama. 8.1% of total population.

Free Jung Personality Test (similar to Myers-Briggs/MBTI)

I Went A-Walking Again

Checked into a chalet last weekend with my second aunt and cousin Sheryl. First we went grocery shopping at Sheng Shiong at Bedok Central.

The long line of grocery and long receipt. And there were only 3 of us and all that stuff. It's really a curse lah. No matter how hard we try not to buy too much groceries, we always end up buying a lot of groceries!

The middle of one of the nights. I stayed up for a lot of the nights, I kinda lost the sense of time. There wasn't a distinct Friday, Saturday nor Sunday. It made me realise the fluidity of time.

I was working on a mini-project for Kalis. I was making a simple typographic image for her birthday gift. Since she turns twenty, it's no longer teenage years for her.

A while ago, I mindmapped for a bit and thought a witty tag line would be quite interesting. So I came up with 'Did You Leave Your Teens Behind?' It was all kinda random, but when it hit me, I felt I should very much stick to it.

WooHoo!~ I love kerning! Haha! I've got a thing for manual kerning. The computer can auto-kern for me, but there's no fun in that, is there? 

You know, a simple typo-image like that, anyone can simply go straight to the computer and type it in, blow it up and print it out in 2 flat hours. But I took a leisure pace of 2 weeks for everything!

First off, it was important to be sincere. The computer tends to make things a little mundane, rushed and somewhat unthoughtful.

Second, I enjoy tracing letters, fiddling with a copier, and slicing paper. 

The whole process was manual. I hand-traced individual letters to form words, blew the image up on a copier, then sliced every single letter out of coloured paper and eventually sticking down the individual letters on the A2 art card.

So it was full of MY enthusiasm, MY effort and MY sincerity.

Then came Sunday where we all had a picnic to celebrate Kalis' birthday. I lugged a shitload of stuff to the Botanic Gardens okay! Thank goodness I had Hairianto to help carry some stuff. The easel itself was plenty heavy already!

Yeah, an easel to a picnic! I just had this crazy thought that we had to have a banner of sorts. So in the end I came up with the frame idea.

So we set up on the lawn while I told Kalis she should just wait at the gate. Then when该上的都上，该下的都下(meaning everything in place), I told her to walk in, edge the Swan Lake, and she will not for her life miss seeing us.

We were one of the few picnics on the vast open lawn. There was no way she could miss us. Plus I had the sign up with the slogan screaming out into the open. Even if she didn't see us, she would have seen the frame.