A bit of everything.
thats what i realised i am. just only.
neither here, nor there./
sometimes i honestly wished i had a bit of something. say, if i were more feminine.
or if i were more girlish. or if i were more cool. or more mature. or more c***./
then at least i wouldnt have to agonize or what to actually become. because i know that i look c***, want to be cool, am compelled to act feminine, feel obliged to be mature, not-so-secretly am a rebel, occasionally am girlish, and secretly desire to be a boy altogether.
now thats what i call a dilema.
but i kind of like it.
one day, i wear this funky fusion dress thing with a funky belt. it makes me look mature. and i get wolf whistles and remarks expressing surprise at my virgin attempt at dress wearing [ i wonder why, the dress is damn covered, and reaches my knees. frmph and i HAVE worn dresses before, loh. =P anyway, isnt a qi pao a dress? and i wear it almost everyday.] hui chiang says it looks like a taiwan high school uniform. thats cool, since i like uniforms. haha. cos uniforms are brainless, cos you dont need to think about what to wear. dummy proof. best for lazy freaks like me.
the next day, i wear this really work -mode pants and shirt with wollen vest and i look damn professional and also damn androgynous at the same time. i know my eyebrows are oozing withj masculinity so i like to play on that cos i think its damn sexy. haha. =P and it feels good to act-guy once in a while, the tough-guy-on-the-move-thing.
and yesterday, believe it or not, i got all high and giggly [urgh] wearing this pair of overall-dress with a white tank and a turtle necklace. haha. ok ok, i played on my c*** appeal. unbelieveable. haha. it felt good, besides the part when hui chiang said i looked c*** and david asked if i went for a kindergarten singing competition and xie fei rebutted him and supported me by saying it looked quite nice. he always puts in a good word for me, anyway. haha. well. =) everyone says he likes me but of course we re all kidding. and i told him hes too old for my liking cos i m an old cow who likes to nibble on nice young, green chewy grass. and hes not young enough. haha.
guys are just so unappealing. sigh.
i quite liked the way i looked. incredible, right? it must have been an overdose of say... kiwi fruits. i ve been eating too much of them lately. maybe i got high on them. kiwi fruits.
sometimes i just wish i could be totally c*** or totally cool or feminine.
but im not LAH. how sad.
digressing, i was wondering.
how come when a really good looking guy looks at you its called love at first sight, but when an old geezer chee koh pek does it its called leering.
haha. thats damn funny. no, not the guy, not the ckp [chee koh pek, in case you were wondering]
the thought, its damn funny.
anyway, come on, only infatuation at first sight exists.
but infatuation is kind of romantic anyway.
and damn hell, i do get infatuated rather easily. to my chagrin
thank goodness my realist outside always manages to control my classic romantic inside.
toshi sings
the moment that you caught my eye
i must admit that i was infat-uated
i knew that i was gonna make you my lady.
you re in my thoughts
you re in my heart
i know that its love, [ me : come on, its infatuation]
can prove, [breaking through]
we gonna make them see
you and me
we go together
love feels so better
since we re together
it feels so better
since we re together
its a lot easier to get at me if you made it obvious. damn, i hate it the way i am when i know somebody likes me.
then im not even sure whether i originally liked the person in the first place. did i like him because i honestly did, or did i start liking him because he liked me? thats really puzzling. i think its a self protection mechanism to ensure that i ll get married off even in the worst circumstances cos it ll make me less picky about my other half since i end up liking perpetually every single person who liked me first.
i need to get a grip on my hormones. bollocks.
any minute feelings of attraction must be crushed like a deadly-hit-n-times-where-n-nearing-infinity-still-never-die-so-easily cockroach.
since i know its infatuation, why let it happen?
digressing even further, believe it or not, cockroaches have existed since the dinos. thats darn incredible, considering that the dinos didnt survive the ice age, but roaches did. and they re thriving now. still. continually annoying us.
just wjhat do they have that we dont. i really wonder.
urgh. i wouldnt want to be a roach.
ps. i get damn sad if i get infatuated with someone whos not extremely good looking.
i thought looks was a prerequisite for infatuation. damn.
i always end up being anomalous. damn.
Monday, 27 March 2006
Friday, 24 March 2006
i dont really like the people at the hospital. i mean, they ARE nice people [now i sound like im contradicting myself] but put in the hospital context, im not so sure.
they seem like bloody hypocrites who all really love to spend and earn money =(
which is bloody sad, because...
i know this sounds 101% naive, but
i always believed the purpose of setting up a hospital or providing medical care of any sort should be to benefit the public.
i am SO fit to serve the government. haha, for the benefit for the greater masses.
but no, seriously, im not kidding.
i look at the way they waste money [they have a really good staff buffet breakfast every wednesday, they claim taxi fares for the most ridiculous things like going to beach road to buy smiley stickers] and i feel really sad. both for singapore's poor people and for the singapore mint.
the other day the ladies were discussing about prada, lv, and channel etc, in the staff room.
i felt really sick. =( i honestly dont want to become one of them in future.
i keep forgetting that i work in a private hospital.
its almost built like a hotel [yes, im not exaggerating at all].
staying there accumulates costs that summount to staying in a hotel, anyway.
theres a concierge. enough said.
you know what, the head of department [mental ward] is not a psychologist. she is an experienced business manager/marketer. she talks about revenue, profits, losses. at that point of time, i got extremely depressed.
i always thought that the head of department should be an experienced and well-trained clinical psychologist with a counselling background as well. or something like that. cream of the crop.
remind me, because i forget that a person like that probably wouldnt know how to make profits for the hospital
for a normal, neither rich nor poor singaporean like me, this has been an eye opener.
theres a royal suite with gold-weaved carpets. the cost of staying there is the equivalence of staying in raffles hotel.
for us, [ward 14] theres this 5 day package i think. costs 1500. or was it 3 days?... i cant rmbr.
i understand why people dont go to imh, unless they really cant afford the fees.
theres the stigma of being labelled 'crazy'.... the fear of being laughed at or looked at in a different kind of way...
if you go to a private hospital, at most you just tell people you were ill. people usually dont ask more..
but once you say imh, you can see it in their eyes.
near the end of this year, they re holding a seminar on counselling.
they re calculating how to maximise profits and reduce the costs. they re inviting a bunch of really expensive old geezers to give talks [ok, maybe not old. just complacent. and they charge per day. by the thousands or more] to 'educate the public on counselling strategies to help cope with the new problems surfacing in our lives'.
im supposed to be at the hospital to help with the admin side of this. i get a clinical attachment too, but this is a side thing.
i feel sick.
i decided im not suited for working in the private sector.
maybe when im older and need pension or need money for a vacation.
till then, if money still doesnt mean that much to me.
i prefer helping people.
sigh.
they seem like bloody hypocrites who all really love to spend and earn money =(
which is bloody sad, because...
i know this sounds 101% naive, but
i always believed the purpose of setting up a hospital or providing medical care of any sort should be to benefit the public.
i am SO fit to serve the government. haha, for the benefit for the greater masses.
but no, seriously, im not kidding.
i look at the way they waste money [they have a really good staff buffet breakfast every wednesday, they claim taxi fares for the most ridiculous things like going to beach road to buy smiley stickers] and i feel really sad. both for singapore's poor people and for the singapore mint.
the other day the ladies were discussing about prada, lv, and channel etc, in the staff room.
i felt really sick. =( i honestly dont want to become one of them in future.
i keep forgetting that i work in a private hospital.
its almost built like a hotel [yes, im not exaggerating at all].
staying there accumulates costs that summount to staying in a hotel, anyway.
theres a concierge. enough said.
you know what, the head of department [mental ward] is not a psychologist. she is an experienced business manager/marketer. she talks about revenue, profits, losses. at that point of time, i got extremely depressed.
i always thought that the head of department should be an experienced and well-trained clinical psychologist with a counselling background as well. or something like that. cream of the crop.
remind me, because i forget that a person like that probably wouldnt know how to make profits for the hospital
for a normal, neither rich nor poor singaporean like me, this has been an eye opener.
theres a royal suite with gold-weaved carpets. the cost of staying there is the equivalence of staying in raffles hotel.
for us, [ward 14] theres this 5 day package i think. costs 1500. or was it 3 days?... i cant rmbr.
i understand why people dont go to imh, unless they really cant afford the fees.
theres the stigma of being labelled 'crazy'.... the fear of being laughed at or looked at in a different kind of way...
if you go to a private hospital, at most you just tell people you were ill. people usually dont ask more..
but once you say imh, you can see it in their eyes.
near the end of this year, they re holding a seminar on counselling.
they re calculating how to maximise profits and reduce the costs. they re inviting a bunch of really expensive old geezers to give talks [ok, maybe not old. just complacent. and they charge per day. by the thousands or more] to 'educate the public on counselling strategies to help cope with the new problems surfacing in our lives'.
im supposed to be at the hospital to help with the admin side of this. i get a clinical attachment too, but this is a side thing.
i feel sick.
i decided im not suited for working in the private sector.
maybe when im older and need pension or need money for a vacation.
till then, if money still doesnt mean that much to me.
i prefer helping people.
sigh.
Sunday, 19 March 2006
Friday, 17 March 2006
talk about similarities.
seriously, i think besides the fact that we both have really really thin double eyelids, my dad and i have totally nothing in common.
ok, maybe more. a really fiery temper. boisterous. dangerously driven, fiercely loyal.
his idea of a holiday is going places, see things, experiencing hardships.
i m not a quitter, but if i take up a challenge, its highly likely that i took it up because i didnt want to be treated like im weak.
my idea of a holiday is being able to go to a really far far away place, hopefully sceneic, complete with rustic charms, blah blah, being able to laze around, and do completely NOTHING, absolutely and wholely nothing at all. officially.
its funny how you look on a holiday with such anticipation, with such suspense, such thrill, and come back, feeling, surprise surprise, more tired than before you set off.
ok, i know i didnt sign up for a spa holiday, but its a holiday, damn it, and im supposed to come back feeling rejuvenated. or so they say.
lets see. exercising my evaluation skills, i shall attempt to break it up into pieces.
the major objective of our holiday was a short family getaway, to go somewhere near but not malaysia. and to take a budget airline.
it was ok, i guess. but i certainly wouldnt take a budget airline if i had the money to take a non low cost carrier.
the gap in service quality isnt very large, but if you see people buying instant noodles when the air stewardesses try to sell it at 2 bucks youd really feel like crying. its that bad.
oh, and no outside food allowed.
its true that kiasuism isnt a typical singaporean quality. its probably inherent, but its not that it gets to grow to its full potential in every singaporean. when you see everyone chionging to board the carrier, you suddenly feel very depressed. [in fact, the crowd mobbing the entrance to the carrier were made up of mostly ang mohs. ]
im a bor chub singaporean. haha. thats damn amusing, i think.
oh, highlight of the flight, i saw this guy with a really really really nice looking nose.
im serious.
REALLY, REALLY, NICE NOSE. T_T. sigh.
all the time i was thinking, how can i get my hands on that nose, and what am i going to do with it when i really do get my hands on it, haha.
and hes, surprise surprise, singaporean. its so sad that he had such a nice nose because all his other features paled in comparision. not that they re worth any mention anyway, haha.[ok, maybe his jawline was nice as well. haha. =D]
my sister insists that i have a nose fetish. i insist that she is an insolent-not-so-insipid-but-very-insiduous-little-brat, aka my-maid-nino-or-maya-whatever-she-prefers-me-to-call-her. haha.
and i was wondering if i married Nice Nose, would my children have such nice noses.
oh man =(
bah.
there, upon introspection, i conclude, based on survey sample size of ONE, that it is true that women do marry because of biological purposes, e.g. wanting their offspring to have strong, dominant genes for future purposes etc, blah blah.
Nice Nose. sigh. wonder if i ll ever get to see his nose again. i think not. =(
maybe i ll see Nicer Noses. i probably will. but singaporean guys with nice noses are a hard find.
so Nice Nose was a hard find.
but Leer guy was worse. urgh, dont want to talk about it. and he acts like hes so good looking. Leering should be an offence. come on loh, your nose isnt even half as nice as Nice Nose's nose.
haha. ok, im a bit... cranky.
its the heat, i swear.
so i promise myself to find a guy with a nice nose.
and to learn how to swim AND snorkel before saving up enough to stay at a nice secluded place in mauritius.
it would be even better if i promised myself to learn how to swim AND snorkel and save up enough to stay at a nice secluded place BEFORE i find a guy with a nice nose THEN stay together with him in mauritius.
haha.
ok, Nice Nose, Sandy Beaches, Clear Waters, Colourful Fish,
HERE I COME!!!!:D
ps. i disallow you, reader of this blog to go to mauritius, or tell your friends about it in case you all go and the place becomes flooded with singaporeans [as if ang mohs arent bad enough] and its not secluded anymore. no more rustic charm. haha. =D
and dont ask me for souvenirs, its a BUDGET holiday; i didnt buy anything for myself even.
if it makes you feel better, we lugged our luggage to and fro the airport via what we call Mass Rapid Transit.
we are so, Advocates of Public Transport.
it does make you feel better, doesnt it?
haha. =)
seriously, i think besides the fact that we both have really really thin double eyelids, my dad and i have totally nothing in common.
ok, maybe more. a really fiery temper. boisterous. dangerously driven, fiercely loyal.
his idea of a holiday is going places, see things, experiencing hardships.
i m not a quitter, but if i take up a challenge, its highly likely that i took it up because i didnt want to be treated like im weak.
my idea of a holiday is being able to go to a really far far away place, hopefully sceneic, complete with rustic charms, blah blah, being able to laze around, and do completely NOTHING, absolutely and wholely nothing at all. officially.
its funny how you look on a holiday with such anticipation, with such suspense, such thrill, and come back, feeling, surprise surprise, more tired than before you set off.
ok, i know i didnt sign up for a spa holiday, but its a holiday, damn it, and im supposed to come back feeling rejuvenated. or so they say.
lets see. exercising my evaluation skills, i shall attempt to break it up into pieces.
the major objective of our holiday was a short family getaway, to go somewhere near but not malaysia. and to take a budget airline.
it was ok, i guess. but i certainly wouldnt take a budget airline if i had the money to take a non low cost carrier.
the gap in service quality isnt very large, but if you see people buying instant noodles when the air stewardesses try to sell it at 2 bucks youd really feel like crying. its that bad.
oh, and no outside food allowed.
its true that kiasuism isnt a typical singaporean quality. its probably inherent, but its not that it gets to grow to its full potential in every singaporean. when you see everyone chionging to board the carrier, you suddenly feel very depressed. [in fact, the crowd mobbing the entrance to the carrier were made up of mostly ang mohs. ]
im a bor chub singaporean. haha. thats damn amusing, i think.
oh, highlight of the flight, i saw this guy with a really really really nice looking nose.
im serious.
REALLY, REALLY, NICE NOSE. T_T. sigh.
all the time i was thinking, how can i get my hands on that nose, and what am i going to do with it when i really do get my hands on it, haha.
and hes, surprise surprise, singaporean. its so sad that he had such a nice nose because all his other features paled in comparision. not that they re worth any mention anyway, haha.[ok, maybe his jawline was nice as well. haha. =D]
my sister insists that i have a nose fetish. i insist that she is an insolent-not-so-insipid-but-very-insiduous-little-brat, aka my-maid-nino-or-maya-whatever-she-prefers-me-to-call-her. haha.
and i was wondering if i married Nice Nose, would my children have such nice noses.
oh man =(
bah.
there, upon introspection, i conclude, based on survey sample size of ONE, that it is true that women do marry because of biological purposes, e.g. wanting their offspring to have strong, dominant genes for future purposes etc, blah blah.
Nice Nose. sigh. wonder if i ll ever get to see his nose again. i think not. =(
maybe i ll see Nicer Noses. i probably will. but singaporean guys with nice noses are a hard find.
so Nice Nose was a hard find.
but Leer guy was worse. urgh, dont want to talk about it. and he acts like hes so good looking. Leering should be an offence. come on loh, your nose isnt even half as nice as Nice Nose's nose.
haha. ok, im a bit... cranky.
its the heat, i swear.
so i promise myself to find a guy with a nice nose.
and to learn how to swim AND snorkel before saving up enough to stay at a nice secluded place in mauritius.
it would be even better if i promised myself to learn how to swim AND snorkel and save up enough to stay at a nice secluded place BEFORE i find a guy with a nice nose THEN stay together with him in mauritius.
haha.
ok, Nice Nose, Sandy Beaches, Clear Waters, Colourful Fish,
HERE I COME!!!!:D
ps. i disallow you, reader of this blog to go to mauritius, or tell your friends about it in case you all go and the place becomes flooded with singaporeans [as if ang mohs arent bad enough] and its not secluded anymore. no more rustic charm. haha. =D
and dont ask me for souvenirs, its a BUDGET holiday; i didnt buy anything for myself even.
if it makes you feel better, we lugged our luggage to and fro the airport via what we call Mass Rapid Transit.
we are so, Advocates of Public Transport.
it does make you feel better, doesnt it?
haha. =)
Tuesday, 7 March 2006
i fixed the transparent umbrella.
scrotch-taped it, and super-glued it, to be exact.
i m still insisting on wearing my hazard slippers.
sometimes i can be so stubborn.
i refuse to settle for second best.
sigh.
even my big green bag is torn./
i safety-pinned it.
despite all these inperfections, we make do with them, because life goes on.
anyway,
nus or ntu? ARGHHHHH
sigh
scrotch-taped it, and super-glued it, to be exact.
i m still insisting on wearing my hazard slippers.
sometimes i can be so stubborn.
i refuse to settle for second best.
sigh.
even my big green bag is torn./
i safety-pinned it.
despite all these inperfections, we make do with them, because life goes on.
anyway,
nus or ntu? ARGHHHHH
sigh
Sunday, 5 March 2006
its the kind of feeling when you ve just left the house, feeling well prepared but then again on second thought, you sure kind of sure you left something important behind and cant help but look behind. your brain tells you to go back to check but your feet are already walking towards the lift.
then on the bus, as you fumble in your bag, you release with a deep-shit-churning-kind of feeling that you absent-mindedly left your wallet on the cabinet while you were wearing your shoes.
its the kind of feeling you get when you sit for an examination mcq. you re sure the answer is A, but somehow after you ve shaded A, D seems to be seducing you, and you cant help but give in to the urge and rub the pencil shading away and replace it with D.
then when you get back your results, you remember clearly and you dont know whether to laugh or cry at your folly because, as fate might have it, the answer is A.
its the kind of feeling when you get when you not sure whether what you really want is a ramen set or a bento. Your brain tells you the bento set is more worth the money but your heart keeps wanting the ramen.
you decide on getting a bento, after much hesitation, but when your order comes, and you see the person at the opposite table slurping his ramen, and immediately you feel a tinge of regret swelling.
i mean,
how do you ever know what choice to make?
i always only ever end up regretting.
sometimes its sickening because most of the time, either there are too many choices, which poses a problem, or too few, which is troubling as well.
then on the bus, as you fumble in your bag, you release with a deep-shit-churning-kind of feeling that you absent-mindedly left your wallet on the cabinet while you were wearing your shoes.
its the kind of feeling you get when you sit for an examination mcq. you re sure the answer is A, but somehow after you ve shaded A, D seems to be seducing you, and you cant help but give in to the urge and rub the pencil shading away and replace it with D.
then when you get back your results, you remember clearly and you dont know whether to laugh or cry at your folly because, as fate might have it, the answer is A.
its the kind of feeling when you get when you not sure whether what you really want is a ramen set or a bento. Your brain tells you the bento set is more worth the money but your heart keeps wanting the ramen.
you decide on getting a bento, after much hesitation, but when your order comes, and you see the person at the opposite table slurping his ramen, and immediately you feel a tinge of regret swelling.
i mean,
how do you ever know what choice to make?
i always only ever end up regretting.
sometimes its sickening because most of the time, either there are too many choices, which poses a problem, or too few, which is troubling as well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)