Work makes me depressed.

What's even more depressing is that retail therapy does nothing for me nowadays. I walk in and out of shops aimlessly. Nothing catches my fancy anymore. Shoes don't fit as well and aren't what I have in mind. Apparels just leave me bored as I filter in and out of shops.

Perhaps it's the fashion of the seasons that don't thrill me anymore. Or perhaps I'm just too boring.

What ever happened to the clean classic fitted white t-shirt? Or basic quarter sleeves with details in the collar.

Crap. I can't find anything in the stores that thrill me. I have my own grips even about the underwear styles and brands I swear by.

Then again, it's hard when you're always digging through the bargain bins or mid-range price shops. I tried a dress from the penelope cruz dress from mango. Didn't thrill me. Then I remember a ted baker dress I tried. It was classy and simple, not over the top. It was tailored and it was flattering. It had a high 3 digit price-tag to it.

I hate fashion. It creates a mould for people to fit into and leaves little room for individualism. I can't follow seasons. From safaris to maxi dresses to tunics. The worse is prob bubble skirts. I'm not saying that people who wear stuff like that are wrong. I'm saying people who wear stuff for the sake of fashion and feel uncomfortable and don't even like how they look are dumb. Why conform to the 'fashion of the times'?

Maybe that's why I love hats. No one touches hats. Classic fedoras, baseball caps and the brown hat that I go every where with. Prob the only clothing that I truly feel comfortable with and love to wear. It's easy to find a hat I like. Still..

Style is lost on the world. Clothes shouldn't make people self-conscious of themselves. Clothes should make people feel comfortable and relaxed and beautiful. When I walk the streets, I see people. I see good-looking people. There are truly beautiful people out there, just not as many as there should be. Beautiful people are those who like what they wear, are comfortable with what they wear and not make people's eyes burn with horror when they walk past. Being comfortable in clashing pj-like clothes at raffles place is not beautiful.

As I write this, I'm tugging at my white top. It keeps eating up into my pits...

I write this as a late tribute to a style guru. He knew what he was doing. He knew that his designs were not made for breakthroughs in the fashion world. He knew that his designs were for women. He didn't do it just for the fame, he did it for the women.

From the man who once said, "Fashions fade, style is eternal", hats off to you, Yves Saint Laurent.

i've changed.

i used to be the one that no one would make an initiative to talk to. just because i look unapproachable. just because i look haughty and couldn't care less about making conversation.

yet, things have changed. i still remember the last time i walked to raffles city from office and a mormon spoke to me. he wasn't evangelizing. we were really just chatting about walking and the weather. all he did was say hi. i returned the greeting and the conversation started.

the second last time i bought a CD (Augustana), the counter staff at hmv started talking to me about acoustic bands. he asked me for recommendations and i admitted that i wasn't one who knew too much about acoustic bands. then we started to chat abt buying trends of the music-listening crowd.

then the guy at gramaphone struck up a conversation when i was paying for Jason Mraz's latest album. and yes, i do not have Mraz's first album. anyone wanna buy it for me?

recently, i've just been talking to strangers. at the viet deli, a stranger struck up a conversation with me about viet cuisine while we were waiting for our baguettes. at soup spoon, i introduced the wonders of the weekly special to the stranger at the next table. Simon and Garfunkel is good stuff.

makes me wonder. the guys besides the counter staff at both CD shops were caucasians. maybe it's not me. it's just the people that by chance are near me. maybe i haven't changed. just the people around me have. :)

**

anyone knows where i can go for good chilli crab besides melban? i need options. and quick. ;P

God,

grant me the serenityto accept the things I cannot change;

the courage to change the things I can;

the wisdom to know the difference;

and the strength to not kill those around me

It just says a lot when you feel very alone. suddenly. makes you wonder if you're the one changing for the worse when you try to please Him more and more. still praying.. still praying.

i cannot tolerate irresponsible late people who disregard the feelings of others who make an effort to be on time.

i've lost count of the number of times where people sms me at the time that we're s'posed to meet and tell me that they'll be late by more than 15 min. would it kill to sms earlier? would it kill to even just sms?

all the lame excuses i've heard.. i make the effort to be on time. when i'm pressed for time to meet the appointed time, i will cab. just 'cos i don't like to keep people waiting. and i will sms even if i'm going to be 5 min late.

don't tell me to be late as well. that has got to be the most unloving and discouraging thing that any and every like-minded person in any fellowship has told me. a time is set aside for a purpose.

the worse are those who aren't sincere. where apology is just a fomality and they brush it off with a "sorry la. but everyone's late also.."

well, i was there on-freaking-time. and it tells me that you don't care abt me. you don't give thought to my effort to be on time. i hate to be taken for granted.

as ironic as it is, it's usually the pagans who are sincerely apologetic. my own fellowship takes it for granted. we should forgive one another right? so if they screw up, i should be loving and forgive them right?

so does that give them room to be unloving, impolite and show absolute disregard to my feelings? don't brush off my feelings. it pisses me off. it hurts when people don't bother.

sure, it's a "singapore" thing to be late. just 'cos it's in the culture, it doesn't make it right. it just means that the entire irresponsibly late people are all guilty. if people were thrown in jails for being late and irresponsible, our cells would be overcrowded.

i'm not saying you can't be late. i'm saying you can't be irresponsible. don't lose track of time. don't assume everyone is going to be late. don't sms people at the appointed time to tell them that you're going to be half an hour late. give early notice!

the next time something like that happens, i'm cancelling my attendance. i don't want to humor 'friends' who disrespect me.
***

on a lighter note, my dance instructor just poked my tummy on saturday and told me to lose weight. i was beyond horrified. where did all that tire appear for him to poke poke??

so starts my plan to save money and lose weight. i'm embarking on the sandwich lunch. this week, i'll be lazy and just have white bread. will progress to wholemeal by next week. as evidence of my laziness, i cldn't find my lunchbox this morning. which meant that my cherry tomatoes would have to get themselves another container.

i stood and stared around the kitchen for half a minute, cherry tomatoes in one hand and still waiting for my ham to heat up. then i popped all three into my mouth while making the sandwich.

and oh, i'm going to take up yoga. lose weight, i say, lose weight, you fat-face chinese girl!

****

~Sample of OD-ed playlist of the moment~

what about taking this empty cup

and filling it up with a little bit more of innocence

i haven't had enough

it's probably because when you're young

it's ok to be easily ignored

i'd love to believe it was about love for a child

- Jason Mraz "Love for a child"

espressos should come in a drip. something that i can IV into myself and get it to my bloodstreams. i foresee that buying a short latte with double shot espresso from my good friend every morning will leave me, well, rather broke. money pumped into the sweet smelling arabica beans sounds ideal in the short run but my nervous system and pockets would hate me for it.

perhaps it's the exhaustion from finally coming to terms with one too many things last night. the realization of really, what a shithead i am.

part of me wishes to curl up and pretend that the past 5 years never happened. that it was just a dream and that i can just go on living life the way i intended to. a life of luxury and extravagance of weekly visits to paragon, pulling my two IV drips with me: one for my failing liver, one for my espresso.

another part of me is still blowing that amber from the fire that started 5 years ago. still praying fervantly that the fire will be ignited once more and this time, more vicious than the last time. with His name on my lips and just giving thanks for each and every daily struggle and joy.

there's time to sort all that out. not much time but there's time. for now, let's just settle for coffee

I totally merlioned today at the client's place. The room makes me sick. My nose went mad first before my stomach sent signals to head kinda like so:

"omg. Stupid room. Ya know what? The chicken noodles aren't holding well. Think the throat will be really pissed if you don't go to the toilet now. come along now, little girl. Off to the toilet."

So I very calmly went to the toilet. Thought of the iconic singapore figure. Voila.

I hate the place. I sooooo hate the place. The last time I merlioned was in 2006. disgusting. Never again. Never never again.

on a lighter and more vacation note due to the scorching sun that makes me wish i was by the beaches and just tanning. came up with this while OD-ing on "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz. Yea, i got Mr A-Z's new album. ukelele galore~

Promises
Hear the gentle sway of the summer breeze
We'll escape into the laziness of the monday afternoon
We'll find a spot to do nothing at all
And steal a gaze from the secret stranger sitting there

Let the shining sun stroke a tan into your skin
Wave to random people on streets we don't know names of
I'll take your hand and we'll go for a spin
Down the boardwalks of beaches unfamiliar to us before

Maybe we'll find a corner to hide away
Maybe i'll steal a kiss from you or two
Maybe we'll fall in madly in love
Whatever happens, whichever sunset we run to
Don't worry, everything will be fine

Hold me tight and take the cares from my mind
Make me promises that you would have never said to me
We'll take chances of living on the edge
Throw caution to the wind and forget the world surrounding us

I won't think about the troubles that tomorrow might bring us wherever we go
Just take a breather and you'll see, dear, nothing really matters anyway

Maybe we'll find a corner to hide away
Maybe i'll steal a kiss from you or two
Maybe we'll fall in madly in love
Whatever happens, whichever sunset we run to
Don't worry, everything will be fine

yesterday was my parents' wedding aniversary. as with every year, we headed out for dinner. buffet as usual. and the same story came out as with every year.

one year, we went to ANA hotel (now defunct) for their buffet dinner. it was quite a spread. i just remember eating a lot. but definitely not as much as my bro. when i was returning to the table with my desserts, i saw him running to the toilet, leaving a pale green thread behind.

full story? the idiot ate a bit too much. after scoffing his face and pushing the limit, he throws up. my poor older sister sitting opposite panicks and shoves my dad's coffee cup to him. riiight.. that's gonna contain the whole night's intake of carving station and oysters???

so after he filled up the cup, he automatically merlioned onto the lovely maroon carpet of the hotel, the poor restaurant manager staring at him helplessly. then he ran off, leaving a trail this time.

when he was tearing out of the restaurant to find solace in the toilet bowl, that was when he passed by me. in his full glory of pale green face to match his dinky little yellow bowtie and short sleeved green and white striped shirt.

as if it wasn't enough, he returned to the table, called over the restaurant manager... and ordered a chocolate milkshake.

upon the account of the story again, we laughed 'til we cried. this story is cemented in history, i tell you.

on the other hand.. just heard jason mraz's "i'm yours". is there any wonder why he's one of my fave singers?

makes me just wanna pack up my bags, jump onto the first flight out of singapore to the blushing sands of Pink Sands Beach, Bahamas. to lie on the sands, get a tan with the sounds of Mr A to Z and Mr Johnson serenading me to oblivion.

or to find me a man to drive me down Barbados or Rio de Janeiro along the sea in a jeep, wind in the hair, nary a care in the world. prefably someone like Mraz who looks like great fun to chill with over a beer or a good rum cocktail and is easy on the eyes too.

think it's the hot summer sun that's driving me quite mad. stupid hot weather.

we won!! we freaking won!!
so much for the replica cup at stanford bridge. we won!!

as the cup was lifted and kissed and bubbly was splashed on everyone, i was looking out for one lone figure. to be honest, my heart dropped when he was not in sight.

then i saw him. he lifted the cup to the delight of the media. then he shyly dropped it, as if wondering how deserving he was to lift the cup. but the team pushed it to him and cheered, punching the air as he lifted it one more time.

he never touched the ball all season. i miss seeing him on the pitch, commanding the team and just being a presence. batch of '92. now capt. he's come a long way for the team. i was squealing his name like a silly sch girl. inside, i was ready to burst into tears.

really reminiscent of how he lifted it side by side with giggsy last year.

of course, when you think about it, it's just the EPL cup. it's nearly been 10 years since the three cups were lifted. the treble of 98/99. the amazing build-up of the team that i've watched since '95 and adored since '96.

for obvious reasons, naturally. let's review this. buying Barthez after world cup when France won. buying Nistelrooy when he was injured. guess who's in the hall of fame? with a goal ratio of 0.75, Nistelrooy proved his worth. my fave player when he reigned the pitch.

the unconventional methods of managing teams worked for the red devils. from the busby babies like Duncan Edwards, Bobby Charlton and George Best to the class of '92 like Becks, Butt, Scholes and the Neville bros. people thought it wld be a huge mistake on Matt Busby's and Sir Fergerson's part respectively. awesome stuff.

no complacency though. chelsea is hungry, smitting from salt in wounds. they will be back. they will be a tough team to beat. and no home team advantage to any at moscow. feared-by-the-blues-loved-by-the-reds team? fingers crossed. i'm just looking forward to next season, hoping for my fave member of the class of '92 will be back and ready to kick ass. i mean, ball.

This could be the year to celebrate and cheer
Pitch
Bench and terraces
We're all wanting the same thing
If you believe in us we won't betray that trust
Through the streets of Manchester
You're gonna hear the people sing

This could be the team to achieve the dream
We got nothing to prove but we want it all the same
United we are
Already come so far
We will not rest until the whole world knows our name

Gonna lift it high
Our only limit is the sky 'cause through the triumph and the grief
It's all about belief
- "Lift It High" - Manchester United 97/98

if i could toast to anything on friday, i would toast to friendship, killer sudoku, 80 cent coconuts, amazing meals, suntanning, sleeping in and getting rid of lizards.

thanks for the memories, my dear girls.. thanks.

The balls of my feet are dead tired from standing nearly the whole day.. plus all that burst of dancing to the infectious latin beats of salsa, samba, jive and cha cha.

my mind is groggy from being awake from 5.30 am sunday morning to 1 am monday morning while thriving on 5 hours of sleep after a most depressing soccer match on saturday night.

but it's true. you simply can't dance and stay uptight. for now, i know i'm just going to miss them.

i'm going to miss watching the stark contrast between Antonio's lanky frame and his student-partner's erm.. bigger one. i'm going to miss Vladimir cutting across the dance floor and that shy smile on his charmingly english and boyish face when he sees me watching his waltz footwork. i'm going to miss getting distracted by Slavat's tango footwork and his absolute seriousness when dancing despite his goofiness outside of dance.

i already miss them. but right now, i know i just miss the person. soon, it'll hit how much i miss how they made me feel abt dance. like how i'm still picturing the control of the fluid-ness in Antonio's dance that just fell in place with his quick thinking. tango on a crowded floor is nooooot easy.

or how i still see Vladimir practising with his student-partner yday morning and when our eyes met, it was deja vu, hinting at the times in JJ. i still can't believe how quickly his face flushed when evan asked him for a picture.

and the snippets of conversation with Slavat cos his partner fell ill yday, thus "reducing" him to an official status like me. awesome guy.

there are other dancers. but i always ran into the 3 of them during my own dance class. i am thus inspired! after i'm done with cha cha beginner's, i'm looking at pasa doble and jive intermediate. after that, tango or waltz! anyone wants to join me?

watching 'inconvenient truth' for the first time. it's really quite interesting. to see the stuff that al gore presents.. and his clip on explaining global warming? priceless.



anyhoo, he mentioned a quote by one of the best authors i've ever know.

"what gets us into trouble is not what we don't know. it's what we know for sure that just ain't so." - Samuel Clemens

so true, in all facades of life, it seems. that it's not the oblivion of the wrong that gets us into trouble. but it's what we acknowledge as truth but dismiss that gets us into trouble. i'm not going to make this a draggy post and bore everyone to tears. but hey, it's something to think about, right?

by the way, if you don't know who Samuel Clemens is, please google him. and i bet you'll go, "chey.." at the end of it. :P

i can't think of what to say.. or what to make of this situation.

i just wanna go back to office and get out of here. it's making me depressed and sick. oh god.. really. oh my God.

that one line i heard just now, "i don't want to be there to see her last breath."

i rather be there to see a person's last breath then to be rushed to my room, never knowing when the last breath came, only remembering the sickening choking cough.

really.