10,000 GEMs won't change any of this

What I'm about to narrate is an example of very bad service in Singapore.

Last Sunday, I made a trip down with my family to Toa Payoh, because Dad was going to buy me a new handphone. I knew vaguely what model I wanted (always the old-fashioned, outdated kind of model), so I guess then that the price was the deciding factor.

Ok, everyone knows how competitive the handphone industry is, unlike the state of monopoly SMRT reigns over us. For every two shops, the next one is a handphone shop. I'm not kidding about this, neither am I exaggerating, because I actually counted. Two shops, handphone shop. Two shops. Handphone shop. Another two shops. And another handphone shop.

The first shop we went to was a small little shop tucked in a cosy corner, away from the buzz of Toa Payoh. After that shop, we scanned the entire Toa Payoh area to find the cheapest handphone of that model.

After our search, we came to a conclusion: The first shop we went to still had the cheapest price of that particular outdated handphone model. And, so we went back.

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It was a plump, middle-aged man that served us. He spoke articulately, and I felt his disposition pleasant enough.

My Dad then told him: "Tell me about the bad side of this handphone. I don't want to hear about the good things, just tell me the bad ones."

And, the man very patiently started listing out all the bad plus good sides of the phone. I was very very pleased at his service standards. Who says service standards in Singapore are profit-oriented? This was a man, who was clearly helpful, patient and honest enough to be truthful with us about the bad side of the handphone.

Following which, he took the pain and effort to introduce some of the better models off the shelf. Asking me which kind I prefer and which functions I were looking at, one by one, he explained the pros and cons of each handphone.

Sounds good, enough?

In the end, I decided on the initial model that I had set my eyes on.

This man, he then proceeded to take out a piece of paper and actually wrote down everything we needed to know about the phone. I really liked his service a lot, and I know my Dad is a sucker for good service standards because he always says there are so many shops of the same kind everywhere, and why should we let the rude ones earn his money? True enough, I agree that the consumer dollar shouldn't fall into the hands of the conniving, bad-tempered employee or boss.

Well, my fairytale ended faster than it began. On the very same piece of paper, he started listing out things like battery, battery charger etc. I had no idea where this was going, but by the end of his 'sales pitch', he concluded, 'The usual price for all these items is $XX. But, because it's our company's 4th year anniversary, we are selling it at a discounted rate that you can't get anywhere else. I'm offering you $XX for all these items.'

My mind as usual works at the speed of a snail crawling. So, I was thinking to myself, "Hey, great deal! I want to buy it!" But, Dad outright rejected his 'sales-talk' and said, 'What for? Why would we need to buy an extra battery and blah blah blah for...we've been doing fine without it for our old handphones blah blah blah..."

Meanwhile, the words such as '4th year anniversary', 'special offer' and 'discounted' were swirling in my mind, and I thought Dad was being a fool for not grabbing such a great deal by the throat, but just letting it sneak away like a fugitive.

The man then tried persuading my Dad, saying, "We are humans mah, sometimes lazy, charge overnight, scared the handphone inside will spoilt mah..So at least if you buy a second battery, you can alternate between the two."

He then took out three examples of batteries that he claimed were returned to him by customers. One was bloated. He then proceeded to say, "See? All these are given to me by customers. That's the risk you take when you charge your whole handphone together with the battery. But, by buying this separate battery charger, it will defuse all the unused energy inside first before charging it from start. This way, your battery will last longer."

"Wow!" I thought to myself. "Sounds great!" This is the elixir must-have for any handphone!

After much persuasive sales talk (which all goes to waste immediately when used on my Dad because he's a businessman himself, heh), my Dad was as obstinate as a mule, saying, 'No.' Finally, out of exasperation, the man said, 'Sir, buy one from me lah!" Was he whining? "Help me lah, buy one!"

My Dad rubbed his tummy and shook his head.

The man finally relented. After that, his attitude did a 180 degrees somersault that would put even Cirque Du Soleil to shame. His whole face turned black, and he continued serving us with a half-hearted attitude. The twitch tugging at the sides of his lips never left.

I could feel the whole atmosphere hardened between the one trying to push sales and the one who refused to buy it.

Finally, it was clear that we just wanted the phone. Period. The man took out a calculator, punched in some numbers and then said, "Ok, $XX dollars for the handphone, plus GST, so that amounts to a total sum of $XX."

Ok, the amount actually added up to a sum that made it one of the more expensive ones of the same handphone model out of all the shops that we scanned through.

My Dad was taken aback. He'd bought countless handphones in his life, and he has never once heard that you have to pay GST for a handphone.

The man tried to justify the additional GST charge, attributing it to his small shop front.

Pity for him my Dad wasn't about to be taken in. "No, no, no...Where got handphone got GST one??! No such thing lah..." My Dad then displayed a very dimissive attitude, waving his hands and backing away, as though coercing the employee into silent compliance.

Waive the fee. Period.

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I've been with my Dad on so many trips where we purchase big items, handphones, computers, cameras blah blah blah.

When it comes to this point, you know what every stall owner or employee will do?

"Ok, waive the fee." This is what they will always say. Sometimes, they consult their bosses and the boss says, "Waive for him, waive for him," shrugging their shoulders dismissively. One even said 'Waived the fee' and served us drinks.

These are smart bosses, I say, who understand the business of not short-changing oneself by nit-picking on small amounts of cash when there is a whole treasure trove waiting to enter into their pockets.

The logic is easy enough. Give up this, in exchange for something bigger, instead of losing the whole deal altogether. Of course, this logic is exceptional in cases of monopoly.

Well, this man, he stood his ground and said the fee cannot be waived and that GST is a MUST to pay. Again, tempers silently fused. Now, on retrospective, I swear the man did it ON PURPOSE! He added in the GST charge because we REFUSED to buy the additional items from him.

Finally, the man turned to his boss/another employee, and gestured with his eyes. 'Eh, how like that?' His eyes said. The other man replied with a shrug of his head.

Following which, the man took the handphone and its contents OFF THE COUNTER AND PROMPTLY PLACED IT BACK ON THE SHELF.

My brain didn't have time to react. But, I was like WTH is this man trying to do?!! Apparently, the message the two men were trying to convey to us were: Pay the GST or you can forget about getting your handphone.

WTF!!!!!!

After much eye-exchanging between the two men and my Dad still, I think, reeling from the shock, the other man finally said coolly:

"Sir, it's alright. You haven't pay the money yet what. The stock (gestures to handphone on shelf) is still with us, and your money (gestures towards Dad) is still with you. So, it's okay one. Not say you pay the money already what, then it's different. You haven't, money still with you, stock still with us."

He paused, as though trying to sum up his thoughts, then finally added, "No use because of this GST then argue."

WTF!!!!! How absurd can!!! GOT PEOPLE DO BUSINESS LIKE THAT ONE AH, IT'S A WONDER THEIR SHOP HASN'T CLOSED DOWN OR SOMETHING.

Not to mention that all their employees looked like they just graduated from The School of Gangsters. Acing all their modules with excellent grades, which come in weird names such as 'The Art of Staring" or "How to Beat People Up Effectively".

And, hands-on theory would be for them to pick on a kid during lunchtime and bash him or her up. The one responsible for the dead kid then graduates with Honours.

Now, wait a minute, at that point in time, all the above didn't strike my mind. I was then thinking, 'Oh shit! Dad, faster tell them you will pay the GST lah, I don't think it's a lot anyway! I want my phone!"

They were playing mind games with us. And, like the innocent naive teenager that I am, my mind was sucked into all their sales talk whatsoever, going through a thorough cleansing routine and believing all that propaganda talk.

And, hor! They are a small shop what, no reputation to uphold like those bigger handphone conglomerates like SingTel, StarHub or M1, they like say what then say what lor! Customer kena koto left right centre also don't know.

I really thought that Dad was thinking the same thing as me. I really thought that he was embarrassed by the whole scene and that he would say, 'Ok lah, ok lah!' then he would take out the money from his wallet and pay them out of goodwill.

And, they would be laughing inside and probably high-five each other the moment we are out of sight, but whatever as long as I got my phone.

Also, I was worried that all this hoo-ha would siphon into something terribly awkward. I was ready to give in, if anything, to soothe any frayed nerves.

I'm glad that Dad has so much more sense than me. I must have eaten pig's brain for lunch or something, or maybe I just have a pig brain all along. Dad walked out of the stall, and we all followed behind him quietly. Meanwhile, I could feel invisible daggers behind my back.

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We barely took twenty steps before we bumped into an M1 shop, just around the corner. We got the phone 10 dollars cheaper, hooray! Most importantly, we (Ok, my Dad) didn't make ourselves into a mockery by giving in to those two stupid men psycho-ing us.

Now that I see things clearer (not say I stupid lah, only my brain works 10 times slower than others which means, eh i'm stupid hor?), I say all that business talk about company anniversary and items on discounted prices are baloney.

What if it were a tourist, with no prior knowledge of the local handphone industry (prices and stuff), and had not had any initiative to conduct some market research by asking around first, and that shop was the first that he or she stepped into? They would most probably have been conned by the people from that shop!

After the whole horrible episode, my Dad said, "What for want to pay that extra money?"

I replied, "No, Dad. What for they want to throw away a good business?"

THESE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING STUPID CAN.

But, what irks me most was the horrible customer service I received.

And, that's why I say 10,000 GEMs (it's a campaign to promote courtesy in the service industry) won't do a fuck to change matters.

I REALIZED IN LIFE NO MATTER HOW MUCH HARD WORK YOU PUT IN,
NO MATTER HOW MANY MOUNTAINS YOU SCALE,
NO MATTER WHAT LENGTHS YOU GO TO,
NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU WISH HOPE WANT TO,
A GIRL WITH CLEAVAGE AND LIPSTICK CAN 'STEAL' IT ALL AWAY.

Ok, what prompted the above paragraph this time round?
I saw the hard copy.
Last time was the soft copy.
ROAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
VERY ANGRY CAN!!!!

The following is an excerpt from the book
"Dumbing Down our Kids" by Charles Sykes.
I've narrowed it down to two quotes I've found really useful and insightful.

RULE 1
Life is not fair - get used to it.

RULE 11
Be nice to nerds.
Chances are you'll end up working for one.

Now, like a true genius spoken. Don't you think that RULE 11 is very insightful??? Therefore, everyone, please be nice to me. For example, if you decide to 'steal' my article, kindly include my byline please, thank you very much.

Or else, at least have the basic courtesy to let me know in advance, so at least I can whack you in the head or something. You know, to make up for all the anger I would later suffer when I see whatever I'd be better off not seeing.

Actually, smacking you on the head wouldn't be enough, I think I'd probably not resort to violence and say something like, 'The photocopier in my workplace is even sexier than you."

Work is the absence of social life

twelve things about work:

ONE It's not my kind of office. Everyone is so nice and helpful. Where are all the bitches when I need one to make my office life more interesting??!!!!! ROAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

TWO Two days into my work and I was bored. Reason: See above.

THREE I can NEVER seem to be on time. I've been working for the past two weeks, and I've only been punctual or early on two counts, even though if you make a trip down to Bugis at 9am every morning, you will see a girl running like crazy. That's me. You see, I RUN and still LATE. Work starts at 9am. The good thing is there are no teachers waiting in the office to scold you. Nope. Only bosses waiting to smack you in the head.

FOUR My workplace is all the way at Paya Lebar. This is why I must protest that the above deserves to be forgiven. I know what you are thinking. What am I doing in Bugis at 9am when work starts at 9am and my office is in Paya Lebar right??!!!

FIVE First, I was told my work stint duration would be up to me. I can choose between 1 to 3 months. Then, two weeks into work, my boss came up to me and said, "Monday will be your last day." Monday came. And, Boss said, "Friday will be your last day." Friday came. And, Boss said, "Next Friday will be your last day." Next Friday came and...well, I don't know what happened when next Friday came because it hasn't yet. Stay tuned for updates.

SIX I can't help NOT falling asleep in the office. It's a vicious cycle, you see. Because I know I have to be up and early the next morning and report to work, so at night I try to stay up as long as possible to do my own stuff. Even the reminder of WHAT happened at my last workplace when I dozed off and promptly placed my head on the table could do NOTHING to stop me from nodding off. (Note: Some bitch told on me.)

SEVEN Whenever I nod off, I eat chocolates. Ten nod-offs, and ten chocolates goes into my mouth. The first day I used them as my anti-sleeping pills, I ended up with a sore throat even before I knocked off from work. I've smartened up since. I either increase my caffeine intake or just let myself doze off. I always believe it is bad to resist sleep, it can do some damage to your health. Or your psychological well-being.

EIGHT I like Boss. She has never-ending work for me to do. =)))

NINE I realized that my office wardrobe choices are black, blue, white and grey. It's true! Even though we are allowed to wear T-shirts and jeans, but my jeans are always blue, and my T-shirt is always black, blue, white or grey. I've never ever once worn anything outside of those colours. Okay, except that time I wore the green outfit. But, only once.

I still remember in my last workplace, the first time I wore that green outfit, everyone was so surprised and shocked. 'Har, you are actually wearing something that is not black or white??!!!' Yes, muted colours fit my skin tones you see, I look like a freaking stuffed turkey in almost any other colour.

Every single freaking time I open up the wardrobe, my hand always reaches out for the most convenient choices, anything that are those four colours. I remember in one of my last workplace, I kept wearing the same freaking blue outfit that once someone commented to my colleague, 'Is that her uniform?' And, my colleague was at a loss for words, because you see, there is not uniform and we are allowed to wear our own clothes!

TEN I don't have my own desk. I sit on whoever desk that the person is on MC or urgent leave. This is also why sometimes I can't help but feel so appreciated. Once, I came into the office and no one that I knew was on urgent leave. So, I had to take a stool and sit at a corner all by myself, cursing under my breath, while waiting for my supervisor to arrive. Until, finally, a colleague chanced upon me and said, 'Oh, so poor thing!' and invited me over to her oasis which she termed her 'little cosy corner'.

Right now, I'm currently sitting on my colleague Wendy's desk. She's been on leave for the past three days. And, everytime I come in, she has all these gifts strewn all over her desk from various colleagues, with Post-It notes writing little cute messages like 'TGIF!' Man, she's like the popular cheerleader around here or something; a very cute petite girl with a high pitch, shrilly voice which some may find irritating (ahem) . Just today, I counted at least five or six little gifts on her table, given over the past few days. There were three new ones today. I saw a sweet basket, strawberry cookies, chocolates, one candle burner, and today, one Hershey's chocolate bar propped against her keyboard. And, yet, my supervisor's desk remains suspiciously empty. Hmm....

Also, when I first came into the office, I was the ONLY temp staff without internet access. I suspect someone told on me or something. I mean, how else would they know my motive was to log onto MSN and chat with friends?

ELEVEN Whenever I transform into a cubicle rat the moment I step into the office, I can't help thinking that this is NOT what I want. And, then start wishing that I was in the Iraq War zone, risking life and limb, reporting on the latest updates on the war.

TWELVE I'm dead serious about No. ELEVEN.

我真的很想哭，但觉得自己好没用！

我好朋友曾经跟我说：'生命中小小的委屈与挫折，是为了档住生命中大大的灾难。要是没有那些事情发生，你就不会还站在这里跟我说话。'

我真的很想无视眼前的一切挫折，因为我很清楚的知道我的问题，我的所有烦恼都是毫不起眼的小事，根本不必大费周章对生命有任何的埋怨。我也很清楚明白有烦恼就代表我还活着，还是有呼吸，脉搏跳动的痕迹，我还是幸福的。

哈哈，之前的文字只不过是个美丽的误会。我根本就是一个懦夫，并没有太大的勇气去面对。但是，我刚刚读完了一编感人肺腑的文章。文章里描写的是一个只不过二十岁就得承担失去两个好朋友男孩的痛苦。我这才意视到生命的脆弱与宝贵。不，应该说是这样的理论一直徘徊在我脑海的潜移深处。只是我做人太沉迷于自己了 （又有谁不是？〕，而太执著于自己的问题了，没办法把自己井底之蛙的理念抛到九霄云外，放眼看这个世界。用最简单，单纯的视眼去看这个复杂的世界。

最后我想说的是：文字写得多好，多五彩缤纷，也是需要观众的，而被受到瞩目也是使文字活生生起来的因素，不然它也只不过是一个尸体。

…………………………………………

A friend of mine once told me, 'The purpose of small obstacles and stumbling blocks in life are to insulate you from the bigger misfortunes in life. If those things didn't happen, you wouldn't still be standing here talking to me.'

I really feel like blinding myself to all the obstacles in my life right now. Because, it's palpable that all my problems are simply minuscule compared to the bigger things in life, and it's not worth a nuance of my effort to magnify my predicament. It's also unambiguous to say that by worrying, it means I still have a pulse, I'm still alive. And, that in itself, should be the biggest fortune bestowed upon me right now. The gift of life.

Haha, the above paragraph is just a beautiful misunderstanding. Because, the truth is, I'm just a weakling, I don't have the courage to face anything. But, I just finished reading a poignant piece of article, with its razor-sharp details of the pain and distress accumulated. In it, a 20-year-old boy talks about the pain of losing two close friends. I then glimpsed the fragility of life. Or should I say, that I've always known it all along? But, I've always been too self-absorbed and obstinate in my own problems (who isn't?), unable to rid myself of my 'frog-in-the-well' ideology, to see the world with bigger eyes (not, literally). To view this complicated world with the most innocent eyes.

The last thing I want to say is this: No matter how beautifully crafted an article is, a good article will always be defined by an audience. The spotlight of the audience is what breathes life and meaning into these words. Otherwise, it's just a string of alphabets pieced together.

Life's a bitch

The dark skies doesn't seem to be clearing anytime soon.

If anything, it's just gotten darker.

No wonder it rained cats and dogs today. The weather is a perfect indication of my mood. It was pouring buckets, and I kept stepping into puddles of waters because my mind was just too overcast like the inky skies above to give a damn. There was thunder and lightning, a perfect punctuation to my mood, God seemed to be mourning for me, and what can I say? Life's a bitch.

I went back to school today. Totally took one-day leave off to settle some matters, back at school. The end result was very, very disappointing. I kept having to plead with her, but she refused adamantly. Did her attitude have to be so nasty then? She seemed so unfriendly, I couldn't even speak to her without stumbling over my words, with her fierce glare fixated upon me.

I guess this is what happens when you try to take matters into your own hands, it bites you right where it most hurts. I've learned a helluva lot from this lesson: it had so many repercussions, so many consequences that didn't cross my mind before I went ahead to do it.

If I had ONE more chance, just ONE, I wished I can turn back time and not be a smart-Aleck. Wanting to rise to fame fast, taking whatever chances I could, without considering the consequences of my reckless decisions.

I've really learned a lot the past week. Two major things, especially.

1. Things are stated in black and white for a reason.

2. Take the proper route that everyone else takes.

My mind right now is like a four-way road crossing. Very messy, very diverted, I don't know which way to go now. I don't know what to do to make up for my own mistakes, a raging, gaping blaze of agony trailing behind me just because of me and my stupid mentality.

And, I have myself, and only myself to blame.

I really wished I had followed the rules, damnit! Did it really matter to me so much that I had to lie to get my way? Ok, I didn't actually lie, but I went ahead to do it without first consulting the proper personnel or going through the proper channels.

It's times like this when you start questioning yourself whether it was truly worth it. My brain, the practical and realistic part inside me says, 'No.' But my heart, the emotional and highly idealistic alter-ego of me, says, 'Yes'.

I really want to get ahead, but I don't know what to do now.

I'm in a dilemma, and my reputation is on the chopping board, it will be the first thing to be sacrificed.

God, save me.

the blunt truth.

I was shocked when I first read what he wrote.

Then, later awe and pleasant surprise struggled for dominance in me.

It was the most HONEST blog entry EVER, and that is what you will never expect from an artiste.

Honest, yet poignant and heart-wrenching at the same time.

You see, in his blog entry, this artiste stated that someone mentioned to him,

'What you are selling is your face, NOT your music."

It comes as a surprise that according to the artiste, he expressed shock at this person's statement, which is shocking in itself because it's so bloody true, and either he's simply ignorant or too deluded to accept the truth.

Later, he went on to say that he should have been outraged at the implication that he was just a good face to look at, with completely no substance...but he said that he found himself at a loss for words. 'Was my silence a consensus?' he lamented in his blog.

I think for any budding or full-fledged artiste, the most hurtful remark is that one is growing popular solely because of his or her looks, and has no musical talent to back up his or her popularity.

I mean, if the artiste has BOTH looks + musical talent, it's more acceptable and he or she will be more willing to reconciliate the fact that yes, their looks help to sell albums, but hey, look, we have talent and substance too and is not just an empty shell that has flowery package to cover up the fact that they have no talent.

Well, I would really really like to speak up for this artiste, especially after his VERY heart-wrenching blog article. But, the fact is, this particular artiste is growing popular BECAUSE of his looks. And, so far, he hasn't proven his musical talent. Not saying that he has NO musical talent, but rather than saying he's a singer, he's much MORE of a looker...people buy albums because of his LOOKS.

It's true. No matter whatever trash music the artistes produces, the fans will still continue buying multiple copies of their albums if they think, 'Ohhhh, he's so cute!'

No more is music just purely a voice that can take your breath away. Fussy consumers are getting more superficial, they would rather support a CUTE face than a GOOD voice.

Think about it this way. If it is REALLY all about the voice, why does Mandarin pop singers today have to be flowery packaged? Why do they have to be molded into a certain personality type? It is so that consumers can identify them to a certain character, and it's easier to sell albums that way.

Ok, let's talk about a certain record company...H.I.M

For those initiated, H.I.M is well known for recruiting good-lookers. I'm not saying anything, but S.H.E is not exactly the best singers around, but they have three very cute and pretty girls. Same with Fahrenheit, four poster boys.

The point I'm trying to make here is...look where are S.H.E and Fahrenheit on the popularity charts? It proves that H.I.M's strategy is a sure-fire success...LOOKS come before TALENT.

Ok, then I would like to make another BUT here.

BUT I notice that the trend is slowly changing today. We have not very good-looking people who are gaining popularity because of their MUSICAL talent. They write, compose, produce, sing their own songs. Not necessarily the best-looking people around, the average dude on the street probably looks better than them, BUT most importantly, they have TALENT.

Ok...so as I said before, LOOKS come before TALENT in the Mandarin pop industry, which is true. Those good-lookers shoot to red-hot burning fame immediately after their debut, but those with REAL musical talent have to slowly make their way up the popularity charts.

Because looks are immediately apparent and much more accessible, meaning people will more likely take notice of your music if you have a poster-worthy mug to boost. Those average-looking dudes with real musical talent have to gain popularity through their talent alone, and it's a slower process. But, chances are, their fame will last longer.

Back to the artiste I mentioned.

I applaud his courage for daring to speak up. It was like risking his rice bowl to publicly admit that hey, it may all be due to my good looks. And, how many artistes you know really have the courage to admit that?

NONE.

I've read countless (understatement) interviews with celebs asking that million-dollar questions.

"Why do you think you are popular?" or "What is it about you that you think attracts your fans to you?"

Every celeb always give the same boring, trained and superficial answer.

"Oh, I think it's because of my friendly and sincere personality, that warms fans up to me!"

How many would actually be brutally honest enough to say, "Oh, I think it is my good looks that attract them to me!" Not exactly career suicide, but they will probably get a harsh warning from their record company.

Besides, people will probably go, 'Eeeee, so hao lian (proud, arrogant)!'

Humility is also very important in an artiste, people like a down-to-earth celeb.

So, this artiste went on to say that he worked so hard at honing his craft, his vocals for the past two years, then rather helplessly poked fun at himself by saying...

'In fact, none of this actually mattered. because all that matters is my 'face' and all my hard work turned out to be for nothing. I never thought that the final result would be this. Should I be happy or should I cry?*'.

He also mentioned this:

"Human beings are creatures that are so often focused on the outer beauty that they forget to probe further into the subject matter. Are all these seemingly perfect exteriors just mere sugar-coated artificiality? The real things that breathes meaning into life, that brings vibrancy into life have long been forgotten by human beings ...*"

Well, very unfortunately, this very same artiste together with his fellow groupmates was recently pinpointed by a very important figure in the media entertainment industry that they are all looks, and no substance.

It whipped up a storm and a huge outcry among fans who cried foul. He referred these artistes as "good to look, but of no use." And, also, likened them to inflated dolls. "When it's being inflated, it is nice to look at. But, once it is deflated, the whole thing collapses".

Besides flaunting their looks, another trend has recently gained foothold in the industry. I'm talking about girls exposing their flesh, challenging boundaries and burgeoning into the lustful minds of young teenage guys everywhere in an international conspiracy consisting a mass flash parade of female Mandarin artistes today.

Two to three years ago, Jolin Tsai said that exposing a little bit more flesh was alright for her, 'but when I talk about flesh, I mean the legs and arms, not other places!'

Today, her boobs are all over the place.

* All translations by me, original article in Chinese.

burnt.

Then, I discovered the difference between illusion and reality
and I'm beginning to lose my faith...

I didn't see it coming. All along, I thought that whatever I did was right. If I wanted something, I would go all out to get it. But, that doesn't mean I will stop at no bounds. If it is beyond my means, then fine, I will let it go. I won't be insistent, even if I am persistent at times. But, now, I realized I try so hard, and what did I get in return?

Maybe it's time to let go...

I didn't see it coming. It was a harsh scolding, and my mind didn't have time to react. Yet, I didn't want her to take my silence as acquiescence. Despite the riot of emotions, I had only one thought in mind: Don't apologise. No matter what I do, I must NEVER apologise because this is not my fault. Even though I was tempted, yes I was, on many counts, to say, "I'm sorry", but the words couldn't come out. I knew that those two simple words could probably erase some of the 'chaos' I've created, but I couldn't bring myself to say it, because I didn't know how to say it while meaning it.

Was it polite? Was it harsh? Was it controlled temper? No matter what, the silent fuse burning at the other end of the line was very much evident, I'm sure. I could see that she was trying her very best not to flare up, yet the words came out so harsh. And, then the insults. Where do I even begin?

At parts during the conversation, I was so choked I hardly could speak. I only managed a, "Yes, I understand. I understand."

But, the truth is, I DON'T! I FREAKING DON'T!

Am I being greedy? Asking for too much?

And, you claim that you treat me like a professional. But, your words hint otherwise. What I couldn't take the most was you INSINUATING THAT I WAS NOT BEING PROFESSIONAL AS A REPORTER.

Yes, there are guidelines to follow in the media industry. I understand. But, I don't think my actions warrant such a harsh scolding. I just did everything I could because I wanted to procure it.

Since you didn't agree to one, I had no choice but to take matters into my own hands. I refused to give up, and that is why I did what I did.

I'm glad that admist all that scolding, my mind was clear enough to point out that I've done the same with other companies, and they weren't so anal about it.

If you really treated me as a professional instead of an amateur, I'm sure the scolding wouldn't even have existed. Seriously, I don't know how the media industry in Singapore works! After this, I'm even more sure that if I ever had a choice, I'll never return to Singapore if I wanted a career in the media, people are either too bitchy or too anal.

It's a small industry right? Will I get blacklisted? Whatever.

Rules are made by people!
If I can, I'll be the first to change them.

I can't even express how disillusioned I am today. I'm even thinking maybe I'm not cut out for the media industry, and might like to stick to being a cubicle rat.

I can't stand the thought of
being just another face in the crowd

poseurs and their cobwebs of lies

Banner of idol's big poster face put together after many days? Check. Priority queue tickets? Check. Album? Check. Kids? Check. Check. Check.

Well, it sure seems like mothers' newest accessory that comes handy during any autograph or meet-the-fans sessions are - nope, not umbrellas, fans or water bottles - but KIDS. Yes, you heard me right. KIDS.

I would like to specifically pinpoint a certain mother who never fails to being along her BABY to the promotional activities of Taiwanese male artistes and boy bands.

Well, nothing wrong with bringing your baby. Even more nothing wrong with carrying your baby while queuing in line for three lengthy hours waiting to get your album signed by your idol(s). Nothing wrong that you are the only one in the queue carrying an additional wailing/screaming human being in your arms, and trying to pacify him by cooing to him 'O-McDonalds Had A Farm...'

There's absolutely nothing wrong with the mother's actions in all the above. Even if there's anything vaguely out of place, it surely doesn't burgeon into territories which affect other people around her.

What's wrong is that this very wise mum used her son as the 'passport' to gain rights to request for a photo taken with her idols.

Usually, the DJs present at the event are also taken in by this deceit spun through sympathy rights, unsuspecting DJs therefore unknowingly get manipulated by the cobwebs of lies and deceit.

They will normally say something like this as a form of persuasion, 'Can anot, (insert celeb's name)...This mum...who has been queuing up for hours in the hot, hot sun with her baby...very tiring, it's not easy...She requests to take a photo, is that alright with you?'

Usually, the celeb will politely, or rather forced to, oblige. Sometimes, this 'star baby' even appears in the media!!!

This is not right! Using your baby to manipulate celebs into taking a picture with you is NOT right.

This particular mother has, more than ONCE, used the very SAME baby BOY to get her mug or picture taken with the male celebs, and some have even been published.

Then, just some time ago, I attended a concert of a famous Taiwanese artiste. Halfway through the performance, she started giving away posters to the audience.

Well, this little girl who was seated in the front row, walked ALL THE WAY in front of the stage (just so to make sure she's conspicuous enough), and started bawling her eyes out!

She wanted the poster, and this was her way of getting it. Instead of shush-ing her up, her parents seemed to egg her on by their acquiescence. It appears that the parents' thinking were, 'If that crying can get her the poster, then by all means, do it!'

Expectedly enough, the artiste pityingly cooed, 'Oh, she's crying...' before walking closer to the girl and passing the poster to her.

The girl went back to her seat, pleased at her prized possession. But, I wasn't very pleased with her means of getting it. It's just not fair.

Well, anyway, guess what happened next? Not only did the parents encourage their child's act, it seems the media too!

A member of the media actually approached the young girl to have her picture taken with the poster. Oh, the irony of it all!

I'm positive the tagline for the picture wouldn't be anywhere near the lines of 'This little girl cried and got her poster.' More like, 'Oh, (insert star's name) has fans as young as 8, proof that her charm doesn't have any boundaries on age! This girl as young as 8 to a grand-father/mother of 80 years old also cannot escape her charm.'

And, what were the parents doing? Coercing their daughter to smile for the camera, and then standing beside her, smiling like proud parents, as though their daughter has just been awarded the Nobel Prize!

I say, blah to all the poseurs all there.

Attire Indignity

So, after three days of suffering from donning strait-laced formal wear, I walked into office with my blistering toes no thanks to killer heels and too-tight shoes, straight-cut grey pants and a black blouse, and went straight up to my boss and asked,

"By the way, can I check with you something? What is the attire we are supposed to wear around here?"

Which is totally stupid and, not to mention, slow! After three whole days of work and clearly seeing all the other temp staff in causal attire, and me being the only uninitiated one who bothered dressing up for work.

My boss thought for a while, and she wasn't very sure either, since there wasn't a formal rule for office attire in our workplace. Finally, she came to a conclusion after some prompting...

"T-shirt, Jeans & Sports Shoes"

Yah, yah, laugh all you want!

ANGER IS ONLY A LETTER AWAY FROM DANGER

Before I've even gotten over my previous hurt and anger, a new wound has availed itself of its opportunity to scab at my abhorrence of it all.

I finally saw the full article with my very own eyes.

There was such a clear discrepancy between MY questions and her style of writing, can??? People would be a fool not to decipher the difference. Hers is without originality and follows the traditional style taken and mine is like...where do I even begin about how GREAT mine is compared to hers???!!

So, shouldn't I have the right to feel even angrier??!!! Hers is so lousy, and she got her NAME in print, what about MINE??!!!!

ROARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The photo clearly showed all of us that were present during the interview, and yet she got ALL THE BLOOODY CREDIT...Where do I even begin????

Why ONLY HER??!!!! WHY only her when it was ME doing the interview, when it was MY questions???!!!! My SUPER creative questions??? (At least more creative than hers laaaa)

And, she even had the bloody cheek to write that SHE got backstage time with them, and that SHE got to interview them.

EXCUSE ME, WHO GOT YOU THE INTERVIEW IN THE FIRST PLACE???!!!!!!!

ROARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!

(Hahhh! She even added that the MOST important thing was to INTERVIEW THEM. How funny is that?! VERYYYYY!!! I should think the most important thing for her was the HUG and the SHAKING OF HANDS.)

生气是拿别人的错误来惩罚自己。
但是我没办法不把这次的错误视为我愚蠢造成的后果。

credit me, please

As regular readers of my blog knows, Steff is an aspiring talented fashion designer. Few months back, she told me of how fellow classmates would 'steal' her designs.

Once, she was inside the room sewing pieces of fabrics together to form a design. Her classmate entered and chanced upon her design.

Initially, Steff had hoped that she wouldn't see it, but too late...the next day, an exact replication of her design was presented right before her very eyes.

And what was she going to do about it?

Her eyes were full of exasperation as she replied,

'Nothing, what can I do?'

Perhaps, she wanted to hold together the tapestry of classmate ties together and keep the peace.

Today, the same thing happened to me.

My very first reaction?

I felt indignation rising up in me, anger pulsating through my throbbing veins.

The interview. The questions. The answers. The people involved. The situation. The questions. The people involved. The interview.

Rewind back to that fateful day. I was the one that pleaded, negotiated, pleaded, negotiated with the manager to secure an interview.

I came prepared with all the questions, with pen, paper and video recorder. She came prepared with her lipstick and cleavage-baring outfit.

During the concert, I was frantically scribbling notes on my notebook. In the dark. She was strutting her derrière around the atrium, finding opportunities to procure a panoramic view of him.

Backstage. I was fretting over that as-of-yet-not-confirmed interview, going through the questions over again and again, rehearsing them in my mind. All I wanted was an interview. All she wanted was a hug from him.

While I was backstage panicking over the securing of the interview, she was asking him, "Can I have a hug please?"

Before interview. Still negotiating with the manager. All I wanted was an interview, damnit! All she wanted was a chance to get up-close-and-personal with him.

Still before interview. 3 groups of people from 3 different publications wanted an interview with him.

I wanted an exclusive. I didn't want to share for very selfish reasons that are rightly and justifiably so.

We all know reporters want scoops, they don't want something that other people already or also know. They want first-hand and exclusive information.

When the manager finally asked me how many people were to be let in, I started counting off people who were in the publication.

For a while, my selfish instincts threatened to override whatever benign and generous mood Mother Theresa may possess.

And, then I looked at her. I could see the glint of eagerness and hopefulness in her eyes. I knew she wanted this as badly as me, although for very widely different reasons.

I paused. "Can you let her in too?" I finally asked the manager, pointing in her direction.

What angered me the most at this point is that she refused to admit that I was the one who let her get entry rights to the interview.

Instead, she waved at her notebook (purely for wallpaper purposes) and said suavely, 'Yah, because I'm from so-and-so publication.'

Initially, she asked me whether I was from the same publication as her. I replied no. And the manager made it VERY specific he only wanted MY publication to do the interview.

But, she thought it was her bloody RIGHT that she got an interview with him. She refused to admit that it was thanks to yours truly which was why she even got bloody material to write about.

Interview. I wanted to ensure that the interview went smoothly, I scanned through the questions and shot them at him, one by one. All I wanted were good answers. All she wanted was to flirt with him.

In the end, guess who got their BIG FAT NAME in print? With MY questions using MY time and MY effort, and MY answers that I got from him. I'm sure I didn't request to be 'backstage crew'.

And, what did I get out of all this kindness? Nothing, not even a thanks!!

Excuse me, brainless bimbo, couldn't you have used your own questions, NOT bloody take others and pass it off as YOUR own?

Oh, sooorrrrryyy, I forgot! If it were up to you, your interview would be as below:

BB: Are you wearing make-up?
Him: No, do you want to help me put on makeup?"

-THE END-

Which everyone knows WILL NOT see the light of a good publication, or ANY publication for the fact.

I deserve some credit. Period.

I AM VERY ANGRY OVER THIS MATTER FOR MANY DAYS!!! MY ANGER SURPRISES EVEN MYSELF. IS THIS THE BASIC INSTINCT OF ANY FLEDGING REPORTER???

p.s./ Dear God, I promise to be selfish from now onwards.

Look who came to visit today