I Want 2 B Famous

No, I don't have an exhibitionist streak.

Neither do I have such an inferior complex that I need to certify my own existence and self-worth by having people falling at my feet and worshipping me.

Neither has it anything to do with the fact that I've faded into oblivion and stuck out as a wallpaper for so long in my life, that I would like to be recognized for once.

No, being famous does not equate to an ego trip for me.

Stories of people living their whole lives yearning to be famous, but eventually finding out that being famous is NOT and should NEVER be a measure of one's self-worth, are a dime a dozen. But, reconciling the idea of appreciating your NOBODY status and acknowledging that you are and should only be a SOMEBODY to those people that matter is the kind of life motto that you should be striving for.

But, you don't often hear people scaling their self-worth according to that criterion, do you?

You hear people saying that their resolution in life is to be "a movie star" or "a doctor" or "a lawyer" or "somebody famous". But, how often do you hear people going, "My mission in life is to learn how to appreciate the people around me."

It's the same belief that work should be a priority above family matters. Even though many would beg to differ, even more don't practise what they preach, and parents find themselves sub-consciously sinking into the monotonous routine of work life, and frequently returning home from work late. Until one day they realize that their child calls the maid "Mummy" and insists on the maid reading his or her bedtime story or fixing their breakfast early in the morning. But, still, they are so used to living that kind of life that they don't even think about changing it.

Seriously, I value my privacy above all else, and would never be willing to trade it as currency in exchange for that much-lauded fame.

Actually, I only want to be a famous journalist. Not some pop star singer like Britney Spears or Elva Hsiao, whose life story lays out like an open journal in some tabloid rag, sundry and all. And, just for that alone, it may not be necessary to trade in my privacy, because not many people want to hear about some journalist's life story as compared to the magnitude of interest that pop stars and singers today generate. Just the amount of tabloids and gossip publications in the market will attest to that statement.

I can't imagine how Hollywood stars manage to juggle fame without resorting to jumping off a cliff or something. I mean, Jennifer Aniston said that the paparazzi once followed her all the way to see her buy TOILET PAPER...it's no wonder that stars like Cameron Diaz and Jay Chou have the utmost detest for the paparazzi. Once, Jay Chou came out of his house to place cans of dog food at his door-step, and the paparrazi stationed outside his house started snapping away like nobody's business, having no clue at all that the joke was ON them.

I enjoy walking around carelessly, and I know for sure I wouldn't appreciate people magnifying me with their eyeballs, and would very much prefer that they stick their noses in their own business, thank you for much.

Being famous is like as though people are waiting for you to fall on your noses, so they can laugh at you.


Still, like the mermaid who exchanged her voice for a pair of legs, I would gladly trade in my privacy to be recognized internationally for what I do best. While the extent of the mermaid's sacrifice did not eventually entitle her to a fairy-tale ending, mine would only mean that I've attained the epitome of what I've always wanted in life.

In fact, I talk about being a famous journalist so much that my mother once said to me,

"Why must be big? Living a simple life, isn't it good enough?"

For my mum, who has lived a simple life all her life, it seemed understandable that her mindset tilted towards the bliss of a simplistic life. I don't deny that, I've always thought (though not fully understand) that you can find joy in the simple rituals of life, and I find great joy in sleeping, eating, talking, watching TV, blogging etc.

But, I've known all along that something was missing in my life, like a jigsaw puzzle with half a piece missing. It's incomplete. It may only be half a piece short, but at the end of the day, it still remains a piercing gap.

I've always had the prefect picture envisioned of my future, and writing was always part of it. In fact, like Kit Chan once said, she yearned to become a performer so much, that "it was that, or nothing at all". Her words struck a chord inside me, and during my formulative years in life, the passion towards my choice of ambition or profession in life was so clear-cut and entrenched in my mind, that I couldn't see anything else in my future.

It is that, or nothing at all.

迟来的感动

太沉迷于寂寞
突如其来的感动
有点不太习惯

As I was about to leave my house for school today, my grandma said to me, "Are you wearing two pieces of clothing?"

"Ya. Why?"

"You look fat."

What a nice way to start your day. I was positive that the rest of my day would be as pleasant as it started out.

What I didn't know was that Fate decided to go all out to prove me right.

No. I'm kidding.

Then, as I was about to board the MRT, my friend sent me an sms which went,

"later if we go break together, then i can quietly put e bk in her bag while you wait outside w her :)"

No prizes for guessing that the receiver of the sms wasn't supposed to be me. I made a mental note to make things difficult for my friends by NOT leaving my bag unattended. Heh.

Still. I got fooled. Well, only initially.

When my friend wanted to go to the loo, and ended up literally dragging me towards the "Dark Room".

When you ask me if I enjoyed my birthday celebrations,
is there any other answer to that other than "yes"?

Just like when you ask a person, "How are you?"
Do you really need to hear, "Bad. I stepped on dog poo this morning, fell into a man-made hole on my way to school, and my train was disrupted for 40 minutes all because some kindred spirit decided to choose that holy hour to commit suicide by jumping onto the MRT tracks. And, if that's not enough, there's an idiot right now who is asking me how my sucky day went, when all I wanna do is go home right now!"

No. No one really wanna hear the truth.
So, don't bother asking.

This year is special. It's the year when the MOST number of classmates actually bothered to wish me a "happy birthday". Which just goes to show what an anti-social freak I am. Unknowingly, I also realized that many knew the actual date of my birthday each year, but few actually made acknowledgement of it.

But, still.
很遗憾没有得到她的祝福。

I guess you don't notice some things until it's gone.

It's funny, isn't it? My simple wish, for a simple "happy birthday" from someone is laced with such irony, even I find it laughable.

What you didn't know is that she remained the ONLY one in my class that never forgot my birthday fell on the 06/12.

To 8 UNLIMITED's credit, they had made pre-birthday plans 3 months in advance, and even though it wasn't EXACTLY a SURPRISE, I think IT IS THE CLOSEST I HAVE EVER GOTTEN TO A REAL BIRTHDAY PARTY.

Something I have always yearned, but due to my anti-social nature, I had it good as long as someone remembers my birthday. I must admit it's pretty depressing, witnessing my classmates' grand and flamboyant birthday parties cum gatherings. I can't really describe that kind of feeling, except that it's a cross-over between envy and jealousy, although I'll be quick to admit that it leans more towards the feelings of the green-eyed monster.

I don't know why, but today I made a promise to myself,

"One day, I want the whole world to wish me a happy birthday."

I guess every single atom of my being screams of my discontentment to settle for anything less. It's the same theory of a poor person yearning to be living the high life, counting the big bucks...But, when such a day comes by, will I really be happy?

Because what if the whole world wishes me a happy birthday, but I still feel alone at the end of the day?

It's like giving me the whole world, but I still have nothing to my worth at the end of the day.

I'm grateful for the party today for one simple reason. People whom I'm not really close to coming together for a common cause for my sake, it's kind of touching isn't it? I wonder if people can really put aside their differences and work together towards a common goal. For me, professional-wise, yes. But personal-wise, I'll never be able to get past that big obstacle, that is myself.

For a while, I even convinced myself that perhaps it's time to lay aside personal differences. But, I shouldn't even go there, it's not great "piercing your flesh and opening up fresh wounds".

Especially so when the wounds haven't yet recovered. Ouch.

It's 12:05am. I feel that I'm no longer Cinderella, and my glamorous coach has transformed back into a rotting, orange pumpkin not fit for consumption.

But, you know what?

It's alright, because I'll still be the Princess I am, tomorrow and forever, Yay!

Although my friend would have me know that

Nothing is forever.

你对我的想法，请不要停留在两年前。

我不再是那个低着头走路的那位女孩。
我不再是那个摆着一张苦瓜脸的那位女孩。
我不再是那个可以一整天说不上两句话的那位女孩。

我比以前自信了一些。
我比以前开朗了一些。
我比以前多话了一些。

现在的我。变了。
我变得不再给人欺负了。

只是，人对另一个人的想法太固执。
你可能变了。
但是，外人对你的看法还停留在两年前。
But, the human's mind is stubborn.
You may have changed as a person, but the hearts of other people's perception is unwilling.

Being an outcast for my years in secondary school, I think it was rather unexpected that I decided to go back, the second time in two years.

When a friend asked why, my reply was that I wanted to relive my memories spent there, both good and bad. But, for the most of it, the bad. I wanted to relive myself of all the bad memories, so that I wouldn't forget what good a position I am in now. Not very good, it seems. But, at the end of it all, I guess I got more than I bargained for. And, like for every event that a creature of habit adds on to my list, it never did turn out good. Instead, it left a tingling bitter sensation in me.

这是不是报应？
以前对别人的不理不睬，换来他们今日的冷淡。

看着他们对我朋友180 度转变的态度，
坦白说，我不喜欢一窝锋迎面而来的情绪。
羡慕与嫉妒，只限一线之差。
我不想自己踏过那微妙的线条。

太迟了。
我才发现是我过去几年留给人家的印象。

And, once an impression of you has been formed in someone else's mind, it becomes almost impossible to break that mould.
And, when everyone expects that of you, you sink into the comfort of that mould.
But, is that what you really want?

How many times have you heard someone saying, "That's so unlike you."
Do you feel a flare inside you then, demanding to know what then is the real you, and when others have created boundaries and restrictions to the way you can or cannot behave.

You feel a need to prove them wrong.
That there is something in you, a side that few or no one has seen.
That there is a wealth of information one has to discover in you.
And, that, you are not as predictable as it may seems.

人的脑类似一个memory card,
可是，他们忘了，储存起来的资料是不会变。
可是，人不是一个 constant，永远在变。
所以，你对他人的 impression 不应该是一个 stagnant。

Maybe, it's time to think of others on a clean slate. Wipe off all bad memories of that person, and pretend you're meeting a stranger for the first time. Only when you let go of those 'false' impressions, then can you create freedom for that person to act differently, and only then can you create a renewed impression of that person.

George Bush is an idiot

I've always had a grudge against the way the media works in Singapore. It's really the government's mouthpiece, and a true indication of that would be the extensive coverage dedicated to PAP in The Straits Times during the General Elections 2006, and the striking constrast of the pathetic column inches alloted to the oppostition parties.

Then, take a look at what was being reported in the ST during that same period, placing the PAP on an invisible pedestral and in a postive light. Apparently, the public are rather discontented with the way the media works in Singapore, in particularly, its censorship. During the ST's coverage of the GE, complaints from the public kept rolling in.

There are so many invisible border markers drawn out for the local media, and most industry practitioners practise self-censorship.

While a foreigner may take huge pride and forsake his stable job and pay check in the name of journalistic integrity (which, apparently, one did), you hardly see Singaporeans doing the same.

The furthest a Singaporean would ever go would probably be to grumble about the media system and the extensive control the government has over it. And, the next day, you see him or her reporting for work at 8.30 in the morning.

Most are scared to burnt their asses.

Recently, I had a chat with the director of one of the top universities in Australia. He confirmed the above fact. And, interestingly, this is what he had to say:

"You can't write about critical issues in the local paper. But, in America, the system works differently. You can say that the Prime Minister is an idiot, and you wouldn't have to worry about losing your job or going to jail."

You blog about racism in Singapore, and if you're lucky, you get to see your picture in the ST on front page news the next day, along with the headline, "Racist blogger convicted in Singapore". And, if you strike gold, you get free accomodation for the next few months at least. Don't expect the five star treatment, though, you'll be lucky enough to get toilet paper to wipe your ass.

I would like to cite a particular scenario over here that took place sometime ago.

This important figurehead of Singapore went overseas, and during his trip there, made a statement to the foreign press.

When he came back, he spoke to the local media officially regarding this particular incident. Apparently, he had gotten his facts wrong, and made an incorrect biased accusation against an overseas organization.

Subsequently, this young reporter from a local newspaper reported on his statement. There was nothing wrong in her published article as she said everything as it was. It was very well straight reporting, with quotes gotten straight from the horse's mouth.

When the foreign organization came to know about the incident (presumeably from the local press), they issued a statement to clarify that the facts had been taken out of context, and were in no way accurate.

This young reporter was called to tea, along with the Editor and those who were indirectly responsible for the coverage of the press statement.

They were taken to task. While the rest were being fired, the reporter got to keep her job. However, she had her press license revoked and was banned from ever being a reporter for the local publications any longer. She was being assigned to another department.

Logically speaking, this reporter has done absoutely nothing wrong. She was at the mercy of the stringent laws that govern the local press, and an unwilling victim in the process.

The government is forever encouraging Singaporeans to be more creative and innovative entrepreneurs. But, at the same time, they put laws here and there.

How are Singaporeans going to put their creative juices to full use if they are always worrying about whether they are going to be penalized for what they say or write or blog? Any typical Singaporean adult would likely just involuntarily subscibe to this system rather then put their pay-check at risk.

Instead of paying lip service by telling us to be creative and think out of the box, the government might actually consider DOING something.

They could start by scrapping off ridiculous laws.

Like the toilet flushing fine.

Get A Room, Pls

So, you are single, happy, and you just want a peaceful night out with your girlfriends. You happily board the bus, and beep beep! your handphone rings. You reply to your friend's sms, and when you look up, a couple have boarded the bus and they are standing just right in front of you.

Something seems oddly out of place, and you turn to look down. The guy's hand is placed rather inconspicuously on the girl's bum, and they are flirtatiously displaying acts that centuries ago, belonged solely to the bedroom.

Since then, this tradition has walked out of the bedroom and into places like public transport and your friendly neighbourhood store. (Which makes it not so friendly anymore.)

So, my eyes had the very ill-fate of witnessing the above erm..indecent act. And, if that was not enough, the guy proceeded to remove his hand off the girl's butt....AND SLAP IT! After which, the guy smiled cheekily at the girl, who returned the favour with a nonchalent look on her face.

Just some time back, I boarded the MRT and there was a couple who were hugging each other tightly even before I entered the train. The girl was talking, and they looked like a normal couple having a conversation, until the guy started kissing the girl all over; her hair, her forehead, her nose, her ears, her cheeks, and about every inch of skin on her face. He did it continuously, all this time while the girl was busy talking.

Can you imagine?

Girl: And, oh hunny, (kiss nose) I was (kiss face) coming (kiss cheek) back from (kiss hair) the supermarket the other day (kiss nose, face, cheek and hair)...

I couldn't help thinking that they were so yang berani in a public area, what more if...?

Tata Young @ St.James Power Station

There were the touchy-feely couples (who pinched each other butt's in public), the girls on their night-out, the scruffy ah-bengs, the Caucasians, the professional cameramen and hobbyists, and then there was me.

There were the mini-skirts, japanese-looking sequined tops (where you tie a ribbon at the back), high heels and ankle boots, spiked-stiletteos and bf/gf accessories, and then there was me with my torn bag and handy jeans.

To be fair, I wasn't the only one left out, even though I was the only one VISIBLY left-out, because I maintained my standing as the only one who didn't have another human being with me for company.

But, still, I felt super left-out alongside my fellow human beings living on the same planet Earth as me, because I was this super geeky nerdy student waiting in queue alongside other hot babes anticipating a hot babe's showcase.

Well, my first impression of this hot babe, Tata Young, was her first hit single "Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy" which drew flak from her fellow countrymen because the sexy and slutty image she was projecting was against the conservative nature of her countrymen in Thailand.

Even though she seemed a bit "wild", I've always thought that it had nothing to do with her nature, and everything to do with the marketing gimmicks that are reigning supremacy in her wardrobe choices that screams "diirrrttyyy".

But, if anyone ever thought that she was gonna be the next Christina Aguilera for a second, they wouldn't be too far from the truth.

Nothing nice and all spice. She had undergone the sudden tranformation from seemingly innocent girl-next-door with attitude into this wild chick who wouldn't bat an eyelid at getting down and dirrrttyyy.

In case you have no idea whatsoever what I'm rambling on about, they were showing re-runs of Tata Young's music videos just before her public appearance.

For the uninitiated, her music vids bordered on the edge of obscenity and looked just inches short of a porn movie. For someone open-minded (ahem) like me, I actually felt embarrassed for a moment to be watching such things in public , what with all the zooming in on her boobies, her suggestive moves, all very low-class and crass! In my opinion, that is.

And, I couldn't stop thinking about this. Blessed with a pretty face, powerful vocals and an amazingly strong stage presence for someone her age, (although I must say, she has been in the music industry for an incredibly long time, since she was 14) is there really a need for Tata Young to flaunt her sexuality so blatantly in her music vids?

Hailing from Thailand, and touted as the A-Mei of Thailand and one of the most successful record-selling Eurasian artistes in the Asian Market, selling millions of albums to date, she deserves a slate-clean image. For a start, it could score her brownie points with the people from Thailand.

However, her company saw it fit to feature risque images of her in her bra/bikini-clad slender frame in various stages of undress. She looked as though she were masturbating to the camera(man).

What with images of her frolicking under the sun at the beach and then proceeding to tease millions of guys out there by lifting her shirt mid-drift, prowling on the bedroom carpeted floor in pussycat fashion while donning sexy pink satin lingerie, licking her own reflection in the mirror seductively, drenching herself wet and very suggestively in water pouring like rain in the er...bedroom (apparently, she pulled out the plug which might have explained this unusual phenomenon happening in the most unusual of places. Kids, don't try this at home).

Tata Young is the embodiment of everything sexual in a girl, and she does not hesitate to let you know this simple fact through her pouty mouth and come-hither looks which she has mastered to perfection as evident in her music vids.

When I finally left St.James, I left with a cigarette-stained tee, no thanks to the hard-core smokers aplenty.

Thank You

Thank you for all your comments.

Well, initially, I had adjusted my comments option to be moderated upon. Meaning, readers who post comments on my blog will have to gain my approval first before the comment goes up.

Because I had not clicked on the option that requests for an email informing me that a comment has been left on my blog by so-and-so, and logging into your blog account does not automatically inform you about this, I was unaware of the over 30 or so comments left by readers in my blog over the past months.

The reason I'm posting this is because many of those readers who left comments on my blog were strangers! Imagine my surprise!

The comments were obviously not ad-targeted or shameless advertising. Because they did not come with a note like, "Come visit my blog at www...."

Some of the comments were that the idea for my blog was unique, and basically praises lavished and heaped upon the webmaster of this blog, me!

Hohoho, I had no idea anyone else besides my friends who would have taken such a curious interest in my blog, so thank you for all your comments, strangers.

I'm No Artificial

Pampered kid, that is.

Because everyone who knows me know how pampered I am due to my upbringing, and some of my friends have even resorted to calling me "princess".

Now, someone please tell me, since when did "princess" have to be at someone's beck and call to pick up shreds of rubbish from the ground?

Which was exactly what I was ordered to do today.

Well, in my long (and sad) existence on earth thus far, I have earned the dubious honour of having to deal with all sorts of bullies: ah-lians, china women, classmates.

But, I've always had a problem dealing with a certain bully.

Teachers!

Supposedly an authoritarian figure and the one expected to be freed from any bias, they are far from that. And, when they decide to abuse their power, I am at a loss as to how to best deal with them without risking an 'F' grade.

So, when my teacher ordered me to be manual labour: moving tables and chairs; and picking up rubbish left behind by my very considerate classmates, I had to obediently do so.

Which brought back very unhappy memories.

When my teacher asked me to sweep the floor in Primary 6.

Fine, by me.

The only problem was that I didn't know how to sweep the floor. As my palms began to sweat, my firm grip on the broomstick remained as I frantically stole a few glances at my other classmate's "sweeping techniques".

Unfortunately, my clumsy and stiff hand movements never escaped the trained eyes of my teacher, who said,

"Aiyoh! You know how to sweep floor one anot!"

My butter fingers (literally) hopelessly clutched onto the wooden stick, as my hands gesticulated in a series of awkward movements that cannot even be constituted as "sweeping".

After a series of chiding from my teacher, during which my palms started sweating and "embarassment" was scribbled all over my face, my teacher snatched the broom from my hands and said,

"You floor also don't know how to sweep ah! Let me teach you!"

And so, the above scenario played like an endless DV tape recorder in my mind, while I picked up shreds of tissue paper from the floor.

Confessions of a Languish Soul

There is 1 successful suicide attempt in Singapore each day.

When will I ever become that statistic?

Unless you are one yourself, you never really know.

That person could be anyone, a classmate, a relative or even someone closer to home. You could be living under the same roof as him or her, but you never really get to delve into this side of them. Simply because they rarely or never display such emotions openly.

Ever wondered what goes through the head of a perpetually sad person?

* Here is a true-life account of a languish soul who shall not be named to protect his privacy.

I go through my life rarely feeling any form of happiness. Sadness is almost a permanent fixture in my life, it is my friend, my confidante, my soul mate. It is my most reliable companion, and also the one that I hate the most. Yet, the more my hatred for it grows, the more I seek comfort and solace in its companionship. Simply because it is the only one that truly understands me.

Life is a dread. I especially hate going to school, I have to drag my reluctant feet to school every morning. The mere thought of going to this "prison hell" instills both fear and sadness in my heart.

I often have suicidal thoughts. I constantly get the feeling that I am useless, and my existence on earth is merely draining other more worthy, contributing members of society of natural resources, like air, water and food.

Even though I'm still young, I often think about how it is like to lay in a coffin, its lush and comfy confines and be forever removed from the eternal hell that is Earth.

I think about how it is like to live a life of a human being without any emotions, freed from feelings of hurt, betrayal and loneliness (emotions I experience on a daily basis). I would feel no pain, no hurt, never again will I have to endure the feeling of loneliness.

I will be like a puppet who mindlessly obeys his master's command. The master is my life and my body is its puppet, going through the daily motions of life without living it.

The daily motions of life. That's what I have to go through every day. I question my existence on earth, and such feelings of doubts intensified after a loved one of mine died. I don't know what I am living for. I have my dreams, my ambitions, but sometimes the overwhelming feelings of sadness drains away any remnants of aspiration. What is a human being without any dreams and inspirations?

As I mentioned earlier, I often have suicidal thoughts. On good days, my mind may be freed of such thoughts. But, on bad days, it can occur on a half-hourly or hourly basis. I wouldn't say that it has affected the calling of my life majorly, but it has had an overwhelming, drastic impact on my emotions. You know how draining emotions can be sometimes.

I've heard of the "trend" of teenagers cutting their wrists, hoping to make use of physical hurt to cover their emotional pain. Even though I don't condone such behaviour, I can understand the pain that led them to take such actions and cause bodily harm to their fragile selves.

I've never had the courage to slash my wrists, but once in a while, I press a penknife or scissors to my wrist. Nothing further than that. My mind does the rest of the work, imagining my blood flowing freely and letting go.

For those of you who think they are merely being foolish and silly for causing bodily harm to themselves, a bigger issue to consider would be what went wrong, rather than blame anyone. Though, I would advise teenagers not to do that, because it really doesn't solve anything. Why not confide in a friend? It always makes one feel a lot better.

I hope never.

Felicia Chin @ Thomson Plaza

Felicia Chin, best known for her character as "美人鱼" in the local drama series "同心圆" made a special appearance at Thomson Plaza on Sat, 28th Oct 2006. As the ambassador and poster girl of Vitagen, she wowed audiences with her wholesome smile and looked positively radiant in a puffy, red dress.














She made a tour around NTUC FairPrice and attracted many stares along the way. Anyway, there was this one guy who came up to her and requested for her signature. (Today everything is very fast, fast cars, fast food, and now we have...fast pictures!) Apparently, this guy had the photos of her shot at this event developed instantly and went up to her for an autograph, but was politely declined by the girl herself because she was supposedly (I heard) not allowed to sign anything that didn't have the "Vitagen" logo or the advertisement on it. Afterwards, I heard the guy complaining and muttering under his breath, "Wah lao! Sign a while only what!" To which, someone went up to him and politely explained the above, and that it was strictly management's decision.

I've chased so many stars and Felicia Chin is one of the, believe me, nicest nicest local celebrities around. She's so nice, that if it weren't her true nature, she would just be worn out with exasperation by trying. She readily posed for pictures with hordes of fans and signed autographs for the public.

This was what I witnessed: Even after several failed attempts on the part of her manager/bodyguard/NTUC officer who tried whisking her away from the crowd (they love her too much!), she stopped her manager/bodyguard/NTUC officer and this was what she said, "Wait a while. Can you just let me take one last photo with someone?"

Ok, apparently, this fan of hers had requested for a photo but some distractions came up...however, even after all the commotion, Felicia still remembered to take photo with that fan of hers, even when she wasn't obliged to. Really, how many celebs do that?

This JC student decided to engage in the new-tech way of taking photos - with his handphone's camera function.

Felicia Chin took an immediate liking to this cute, little toddler and couldn't stop gushing about how kawaii he was. She even took the opportunity to carry the toddler in her arms. Hmm, is her maternal instinct working its way into her conscious?

I followed Felicia Chin all the way to her car. See the two girls standing beside her in the first photo? I have no idea who they are, but they were around throughout the whole event and even got into the car with her. So, I guess that they are her minders? Very young, can, for a celebrity's personal assistant? I also want!!! No pay, also can!

Overheard...

Father: (looking at Felicia Chin while balancing his little kid on his shoulders) Who is she? Is she someone famous?
Son: Yeah.
Father: Did she appear on TV?
Son: Yeah.
Father: So, what show did she act in?
Son: She didn't act in any show.
Father: Oh, really? Then, who is she?
Son: She's the girl who drinks Yakult on TV.

Kind thoughts?

Me: Hey, did you see that brown colour blouse just now?

Friend: No, why?

Me: Nothing, I just wanted to ask your opinion,

whether it looks nice or auntie.

Friend: Oh, don't bother asking me. My taste is very lousy one.

Me: Isn't that better? So, if you like the blouse, then I shan't get it.

Friend: Oh, that's very kind of you to say that.

Love At First Sight Can Take Place Anywhere

When I was the young, naive child of yesteryear, I truly believed in love at first sight.

Call me cynical, but when I grew up, I stopped believing.

Because, like some others, I realized that love at first sight almost always came with a price tag - looks. Show me someone who had "love at first sight" with a fugly person, and I will kick and punch the bloody lying asshole.

Hence, I later came to the perception that love at first sight was simply superficial, because the instant attraction to a total stranger could almost and only come from the other party's appearance or image, since that is the only ingredient that is immediately apparent. Understanding character takes time. Instant gratification for infatuation or love may be the only formula for immediate attraction.

Love at first sight sometimes takes place when a certain feature of a stranger catches the eye of another and memerizes him or her thoroughly. This could be the person's hair, mouth, EYES, legs or figure. Usually, the feeling is not mutual, and one is usually cynical or suspicious of the motives of a stranger hitting on them (Could it be a dare from his friends?).

Well, my friend got hit on by a fellow schoolmate in the school canteen yesterday.

Apparently, he walked right up to her and introduced himself. One could have mistaken him for a guy who had just walked into an interview for his job application. Or a prospective son-in-law who was meeting his fiance's parents for the first time. He was rattling off details about his own personal info, and bugged my friend for reciprocation in the form of her name, telephone number etc.

I was immensely intrigued by the bravado of this total stranger. He looks pretty much like a decent chap to me, and I suspected this wasn't his normal routine of picking up girls.

After the brevity of their conversation, I was curious to find out more. So, I asked him,

"You like her?"

His immediate reply. "Yes."

"So, how long have you been noticing her?"

"A while. I've been noticing her for a while now."

Curiously, 'a while' could have meant two years or two minutes. I finally settled for the former, but my friends later duely informed me it seemed like the latter.

Gasp! Love at First Sight!

Apparently, it was love at first sight for my friend's parents as well. Her father had taken one look at her mum and decided she was the one he wanted to marry. So, he chatted her up, even though she wasn't very interested at that time.

"So, what do you like about her?" I further enquired him.

Without any hesitation (In fact, his reply was quite hasty and he seemed a little nervous but doing a pretty commedable job at concealing his frayed nerves), he replied,

"Her eyes. I like her eyes."

Thanks to this guy, I suddenly developed an interest in my friend's eyes for the first time in over two years. She has very long eyelashes, and when she talks, her eyes tend to crinkle and sparkle and takes on an animation form with a childlike innocence (Of course, I know otherwise).

I warned her to be careful because her eyes have now officially become her weapon or main attraction to guys. Obviously, this friend of mine who has broken a few hearts in her lifetime (She's 19, btw), has no qualms about carrying on this full-time hobby of hers and breaking a few more hearts along the way.

This guy liked her for an eternity, and guess what she told me?

"I just treat him as a very reliable friend".

Do you know what happens when you have liked a person forever, and he or she tells you "I just treat you as my very reliable friend"?

You have two options. 1) You can either carry on living your life with your dignity shred into pieces or; 2) You can consider treating her as your very "reliable friend" which unfortunately, in most cases, do not happen.

It's a good thing my friend choose to tell me, you know.

Of course, after chatting with this affable and loveable chap for approximately less than two minutes [It doesn't take long to form a (biased) opinion of someone], I felt very sorry that I had to be the bearer of bad news. But, since I am such a good friend (everyone knows that, btw), I had to drop the bombshell.

"I'm sorry, but she's attached."

Which was a total lie. However, I must emphasize that a white lie is always far better than the blatant truth.

So, my dear friend, please bear this in mind in case you ever have the urge to tell a guy who has a thing for you straight in the face "I just treat you as my very reliable friend".

If all else fails, you can always pretend that my ear is the guy's, and tell me instead. I'm such a sucker for peace.

So, guess what was his reply?

"It's alright, man! Just be friends, you know. I'm not asking her to marry me tomorrow!"

During less than 10 minutes which made up the entirety of the two-way (sometimes, three-way, me being the kaypoh lightbulb) conversation, he said this at least 3 to 4 times.

"I'm not going to ask you to marry me tomorrow!"

Which is a very curious thing to note, btw, because (AHEM) marriage was on his mind perhaps throughout the conversation.

He finally let my friend off after he got her MSN. Poor guy, I feel kinda sorry for him, you know. He probably has his face glued to the computer screen 24/7 a day, and my friend finds it fit not to go online. (Ok, to be fair, her computer at home is spoilt, but there's always the computer at school you know. And, my friend just loves finding excuses for herself.)

From Local to Global - Kelvin Tong & Royston Tan

On 14 October 2004, there was an exclusive filming seminar by two of Singapore's critically-acclaimed directors, Kelvin Tong and Royston Tan.

The seminar basically touched on the topic "From Local to Global" - since both directors, Kelvin Tong (Eating Air) and Royston Tan (4.30) have received accolades at international film festivals such as the Hong Kong and Berlin International Film Festival respectively.

When the inevitable question of compromising artistic integrity with the commercial success or viability of a film, Tong replied that he felt the both could co-exist mutually, and a film-maker did not necessarily have to sacrifice one for the other. After all, there are many examples in the film industry today that is evidence enough that both factors could be mutually exclusive.

Tong also mentioned during the seminar held at the National Library, that the most unique characteristic of Singapore was "the diversity in our race and religion". The clash of both Eastern and Western culture could be the ultimate source of inspiration local film-makers could seek to built their story ideas upon.

Tong, who expressed that he sought inspiration for his films from everyday life, felt that language was not a barrier when it came to film-making. Even though his well-received film Eating Air was sprinkled with dialects such as Hokkien and Cantonese, the core of his films could still reach out to our Western counterparts.

Tan jokingly added that "4.30 was the best, because it had no dialogue in the entire film, apart from a line or two." Even though 4.30 had close to zero dialogue, similarly, it managed to tug at the heartstrings of the audience. (Interesting point to note: 4.30 is the time where the highest number of people commit suicide, because it is neither day nor night.)

While many may feel that the young film-making industry of Singapore may be a major disadvantage, especially when coming up against our Hollywood counterparts, Tong is quick to note that there is an advantage to that.

"Since our industry is relatively young compared to say, Hollywood, that means there are many areas that we can explore, because not many story ideas has been exhausted. Whereas, if I were say in Hollywood, it would be really hard to come up with something new."

So, what advice do they have for aspiring budding film-makers out there?

He cited Ed Wood, the 'world's worst director' as a learning example. Despite his infamous reputation as the 'legendary director of awful movies', he still perservered on his passion while making films out of a shoestring budget.

"Don't be afraid to make a movie just because you fail the first time."

Whimsically Chicful - 昨夕的流逝

Sparingly hollow in within
existing in a single vacuum

Time is an indulgence
my meandering imagination
my random thoughts are painful
where pleasure ceases to exist

Funereal is the colour of my mood
melancholy is the rhythm of my pensive soul

Something stirs deep within
a riot of unadulterated dark emotions
swallowing me and;
I seek consolence from a mirthless soul

Laughter fades into oblivion
Blanketing gloomliness all around

I dread the prison I'm forced to return
Like the prisoners of the WWII
Where rules dictate their routine
No freedom! No democracy! No life!

I tip-toe around the swirling unknown with the same tentativeness
of a parent afraid of disturbing his sleeping child
I sink carelessly and thoughtlessly
When I should have been mindful of my boundaries

Forgive me while I put on back my mask
The very mask that when I remove
reveal volumes of naked emotions

Is the beginning the end
Or the end a superior start to a new chapter?

If life is a rat race
Where will you be?

Repetitive does nothing for creativity
freedom is just the state of mind
Cognitive thoughts caged in one's mind
like a snarling animal in within.

Will I ever be freed
from my muse?

Sigh. School is reopening.

The Niece from Hell

She's no god-given gift.

Adorable and cute at first sight, she's the ultimate devil and have no qualms at flexing her prowess for destruction.

She needs more attention that a lonely grandmother, and does not hesitate to converse her emotional needs and dependence for companionship by showing off her range of vocals which mostly consist of high decibels screams, combined with a penchant for making noise out of the most unexpected music instrument: her throat.

When she comes to visit, she expects the purple dinosaur to be showing on the telly at all times. If you were to attempt to switch channels other than Barney, she wouldn't think twice of showing off her talent of reaching that super high note.

You get so agitated that you wish you could kill the purple dinosaur and when he starts singing the familiar irritating tune of "I love you, you love me", you start feeling a whole lot of hatred feelings for the guy who created the purple dinosaur with the spare tyre.

She has a morbid obssession with Kentucky Fried Chicken. So much so that she's a member of the KFC Chicky Club, which promises to "spice up our programmes with a generous sprinkling of fun while still being educational."

I wonder how on earth can anything that has to do with a bunch of bawling kids, who shall turn on their vocal pipes anytime of the day like a time bomb, can the management termed "fun".

You may have heard of The Devil Wears Prada, but I'm damned sure that you are completely oblivious to The Devil Wears Diapers.

Well, it's a movie that plays whenever the 2-year-old niece is around.

Basically, it's a movie worth watching because not only do you get to see a devil prance around the living room in diapers, the devil takes on a special form of a 2-year-old child.

Sounds exciting, already?

Well, then go watch it.

If you've missed it, don't worry, there are re-runs every day.

*Ear plugs not provided.

6th Global Chinese Music Awards Press Conference

The press conference kick-started off with a slideshow presentation detailing the previous Global Chinese Music Awards (GCMA) held at various countries like China.

Apparently, Singapore has the honour of being host to over 30 singers around the world, the first ever GCMA to conjour a stellar constellation of such major proportions.

The 3th batch of attendees were also unveiled during the press conference held at the newly-opened pub, St James Power Station.

Names included homegrown artistes such as Jocie Guo, Project Superstar alum Chen Weilian; Beijing singer Jin Sha; and Andy Lau.

The purpose of this press conference was to unveil the trophy design for this year's GCMA, and they had the privilege of inviting Stephanie Sun to grace this very special event. Over 100 members of the music industry and businessmen, as well as screaming hysterical fans, bore witness to the unveiling of the trophy.

Stephanie Sun was the first ever artiste to earn bragging rights for having carried the trophy in her hands. She also revealed that many times, she was unaware of the whereabouts of the trophies she had won, as they are usually placed with the host country first, following which she failed to see them again.

Adoring fans of Stephanie Sun present her with a box full of mooncakes, then proceed to turn on their smiles for the flashing camera lens.

-------------------------

Some things I found out about Stephanie Sun's fans:

1) They are mostly female.

Perhaps, Sun's sun-kissed image does not go very well with male fans, who made up a very small portion of her fans who attended the event.

2) They come prepared. Too prepared.

They had their pens, customized notebooks boasting Sun's smiling mug on the covers, digital cameras and a gung-ho attitude with them. Immediately after the event, I saw a group of fans (mostly or all fan club members) gather around a mini-van which they presumed was the same van Sun came in. They hung around the van for about an hour or so, dealing with false alarms where security guards went into action opening doors for deliverymen, until finally...

THE VAN BELONGED TO SOMEONE ELSE!!!!

If you thought they were going to pack up and leave disappointedly, think again. Immediately, their paparazzi instincts came alive and they started accosting Yes933 DJs for the whereabouts of Sun. They got replies like a shake of the head and a "I have no idea, don't ask me."

3) When Stephanie Sun isn't around, they turn their camera lens on unsuspecting familiar faces.

The most immediate victims?

Yes933 DJs.

4) They are teenagers, therefore they have plenty of time to waste.

When it became apparently that the mini-van belonged to someone else other than Sun, they changed venue and continued waiting. What can I say? Most looked like they were below 17, and had a whole lifetime ahead of them. I'm positive senseless time-wasting is all part and parcel of growing up.

Afternote: The last thing I would like to say is that I was the only non-Stephanie Sun fan around. Which was probably why I seemed oddly out of place among the screaming hysterical fans.

God, to the unknowing stranger, I must have seemed like a rabid Stephanie-Sun obsessed fan who spent over an hour waiting for her idol. But, really no, I'm just an on-looker. And a celebrity-obsessed teenager.

Bad parenting – the human gene pool is at risk

If you think that this generation of kids are spoilt, self-centred and self-indulgent, worry. Because the next generation after Y is going to get worse.

If today’s kids under 12 are any indication at all, the human gene pool is in danger of turning into a whole mass of brawny, cry-to-get-your-way kids and ignorant, full-of-themselves adults.

*Korine is one such example. Currently in Primary 5, she has much more money in her wallet than most working adults.

For her, one monopoly set is never enough. If she sees fit, she buys a second one, a third one. Well-meaning strangers offer her words of advice, “Little girl, don’t waste your parents’ hard-earned money, think carefully before you spent, it’s better to save up for a rainy day” falls upon deaf, reluctant ears.

She throws tantrums and gets into bad fits whenever things doesn’t go her way or people refuse to act as instructed.

Once, she rang me up at 9pm, asking me if I wanted to meet up. When I rang her up again at 10.30pm, I fully expected her to be at home.

“I’m having supper with my auntie at Jack’s Place.”

“What?!! Eh..do you know what is the time now? So, after supper, you going home?”

“No..I’m going bowling later.”

“Huh? Your parents never ask you to go home meh?”

“Oh, my mother won’t be coming home tonight because she has work to do. So, I’ll be going home around 3am in the morning.”

What, you ask, is a 10-year-old kid doing out so late at night?

Korine is the perfect example of parents today who simply do not have time to spare for their kids, so they end up pampering them with cash. What they do not understand is that cash cannot make up for parental love, care, concern and time.

Her mother works in the governmental sector and her brother is paid approximately S$7K a month. They are her immediate ATMs, and both see more withdrawals than the average working adult.

It seems she has a vengeance to match her spending power. Once, she said to me:

“I wish all the people in this world will die! Except you.”

Taken aback by the graveness in her words, my immediate reaction was to ask, “Why?”

“Because they are all bad eggs!”

Boy, was she wrong! It was very well, bad parenting! Imagine what kind of environment she must have grew up in, to cause her to say those words so early in life. It was ignorance at its best and negligent at its worst.

Ok, let’s take another example.

*Alice is 2 years old. Her mother doesn’t really care much about her, and she’s usually being dumped at Granny’s house. Which led someone to ask: If she doesn’t even bother about the kid, why does she even bother giving birth in the first place?

It’s true, why for that one moment of pleasure, or for that desire to fulfil your maternal instincts, bring an innocent child on the path to destruction?

Alice is very, very spoilt. She usually cries to get her way, and as time goes by, it’s become her lethal weapon when things don’t go her way.

When she cries, her mother is more likely to blame the culprit, then the child herself for her stubbornness, never mind whose fault it is.

Unfortunately, Korine and Alice are just two examples of a growing problem of kids who are spoilt brats. This behaviour can go way beyond adulthood, thus affecting the quality of integrity that one should hold in life.

I dread to think about the terror that is going to wreck havoc on the future. No, not terrorists, but definitely a force to be reckoned with. Kids!

Imagine this: The world is going to be more globalized and the physical (I stress) distance among human beings is going to get shorter. Maybe, in the future, long-distance relationships may even pose little problem.

So, when technology advances, the diameter of the pile of workload on any average working adult’s desk is going to get higher. And, when it does, the time they reach home is going to get later. And, when that happens, they have less or no time for the kids.

And, if that occurs, they are going to use money to cover that gaping emotional hole. But, this is a very special hole. The more you feel it up, the more empty it becomes, the voider it is, the more meaningless it grows.

Why feed that hole?

That hole can only be filled up with parental love!

Anything else, and it is just a temporary solution to a growing social problem. If the tap leaks, you jolly well get it fixed by calling in a plumber. Scotch tape is never a permanent solution. And, when that tape bursts, the amount of water coming out of the tap is going to flood your house.

Similarly, you choose the easy option by feeding your kid with cash to make up for the lack of time spent with them. Like with all things material, the obsession just grows bigger and bigger. And, when their desire grows, their appetite can never be satisfied.

(By the way, this is also why Singaporeans emerge among the last in the running of the world’s happiest people, because they associate happiness with material satisfaction. The former is long-term, the latter, just the exact opposite. And, feeding the latter is like feeding bananas to the monkeys at the zoo, their appetite and reliance just grows into horrifying proportions.)

Today, it is the iPod.

Tomorrow, it is the Xbox 360.

At the end of it all, the child comes out of the whole material affair empty. Because, in his hasten, he forgot to feed his inner soul, but instead glossed the surface of it. All it creates is a thin lining or veneer, which evaporates with time.

Haiya, an affair with material goods is akin to having an affair with a mistress. At the end of the day, she will leave you. So, it’s better to nurture your relationship with your wife, because in the end, that’s all you have.

In the end, your soul and integrity is what you have to co-habit with.

Ironically, you see grown-ups complaining about the deterioration of the moral fabric of teenagers today. Aren’t the adults to be blame? Most often, the kids do not stray on their own, it’s the adults that set the moral standards and learning example for their kids.

A local columnist once grunted about how whenever he gives up his seat to a parent, more often than not, they are most likely to let their kid’s butt warm the seat instead. “What kind of values are these adults imparting to the young?” he laments.

Most adults are oblivious (intentionally or unintentionally) that their actions speak volumes that go way beyond their language. A mother is probably going to tell her kids not to lie, because lying is bad. And, if you lie Santa Claus is going to know about it, and during Christmas you are not going to get that Ultraman plastic figurine you’ve been salivating over.

And, then, he hears his mother telling the maid, “If you answer the phone, and it’s for me, say I’m not around.”

So, he grows up thinking that if Mummy does it, it must be the correct way.

Other times, such values are injected into a child’s moral system unknowingly.

So, he steals his classmate’s Ultraman plastic figurine and when the teacher asks if it was him, he denies it, emphasizing his innocence with a fierce vehemence.

So, the teacher searches his bag and finds Ultraman squashed in the right-hand pocket of his school bag, and immediately, the child who is at a loss for words, starts to cry for his Mummy.

So, Mummy comes into the office, and asks where the child learnt his bad behaviour from.

In this instance, who is to blame? Parents are surely going to deny full responsibility for the involvement they have in shaping a child’s values. If the kid were to say anything that vaguely hints that the parent was responsible for the child’s bad behaviour, the parent would probably go, “Rubbish!” or “Nonsense!”

No parent wants to be associated with a bad kid, because it says so much about them. Their kid is like a mirror, a reflection of the parent’s fruits of labour at parenting.

And, when their method of parenting is a failure and it shows, some then sink into a state of self-denial (or self-assurance).

They are probably going to point fingers at other external factors (i.e. beyond their control) such as the kid’s school, teachers, classmates, friends or the drinks stall vendor at the school canteen.

But, more often than not, the culprit is the parents.

And, the child?

The victim of bad parenting!

*Names have been changed to protect the privacies of the very innocent.

Forever 17 - 不想长大

I’m sure, if given the chance, every woman would want to remain Forever 17.

However, as this is not the Land of Peter Pan, it’s impossible.

Women just have to break out of the notion that they want to remain youthful forever. Anything else is deceiving themselves. And, when laugh wrinkles and MRT lines start to dominate their once smooth, supple skin, they will find it harder to accept that they are ageing.

Ageing. I’m sure that is a term no woman wants to be associated with. Ageing means old. And old means ugly. No woman wants to be ugly, hence the notion of growing old injects fear in their minds and hearts.

What about those who were once pretty? They will find it harder for themselves to come to terms with the fact that they are ageing. Take Zoe Tay, for instance. She’s ageing, she knows it, the public knows it. Hence, her recent “I Swallow” advertisement, which created a major furore among Singaporeans.

The common perception here is that she’s trying to act young even though she no longer is. To me, it seems like she has difficulty breaking out of her once young, beautiful self and accept that she is now officially auntie.

Can you imagine how hard it must be for Zoe Tay, who is under the public limelight, to grow old? The public is unrelentingly cruel when it comes to criticizing actors and actresses for their looks, mainly because of two factors.

One, their popularity is most probably built upon his or her looks. Hence, they are expected to look beautiful and handsome all the time. Anything short of great-looking and the public probably feels short-changed (eg. I buy the magazine to ogle over Brad Pitt’s well-defined cheekbones, so I fully expect it to be well-worth my US$5.99 bucks and not for it to be sagging, neither do I wish to see a single MRT line on his face).

Of course, today, this is a minor problem that Adobe Photoshop can solve.

Secondly, their popularity is most probably built upon his or her looks. Hence, the public now has the valuable opportunity to laugh at their sagging cheekbones and crow lines!

This is especially so in a society where most feel is unfair. How come two human beings who both have two eyes, one nose and one mouth can have so different destinies (one becomes a 9-5 clerk while another rises to super-star status) just because one is born more good-looking than the other?

Let’s take my mother, for instance. She’s in her 50s and terribly afraid of ageing. The mere thought of it haunts her like a wandering spirit with a restless soul. This is especially so when Chinese New Year is around the corner. She sighs and go, “One year past so fast.” Anyone who reads between the lines know exactly that she’s not referring to the time flying past, but the time which is showing on her face.

Hence, she’s an avid exerciser and health-nutritionist, all so as to prolong her life span. She stocks up on all kinds of expensive creams. To get rid of her wrinkles, blackheads, pimples. You name it, and she probably has it in that wardrobe of hers. She spreads thousands and thousands of dollars on facial treatments, laser treatments, and botox injections.

She refuses to acknowledge her age, and insists on one single candle on her birthday cake each year. Sometimes, I peek at her passport or see the age bracket she ticks whenever we go JB to remind myself of her age.

I know many girls in their early twenties who feel like old grannies. Almost every single girl, actually. The truth is, we often don’t appreciate what we have until we’ve lost it. Meaning only when these girls approach their 30s, do they look back and reminisce about their youth in the 20s, and the loss of it in their 30s. Same goes for those in their 40s who look back at their 30s. Often, we overlook our current state or situation, always desiring to be in a different phrase. Only when we’ve lost it, then do we spend time appreciate those lost moments.

My suggestion is, why not enjoy the moment? Enjoy the currency, wealth and opportunities of youth that you have now, and in the years ahead of you.

That’s not to say that when you are in your 30s, should you start forever living in the shadow of being 20!

I don’t understand why a 30-year-old woman would be considered old. This is again a perception of society, when everyone talks about it and believes in it, and then it becomes a social norm.

Same notion as any 30-year-old woman who isn’t married by that age is most probably:
1) unmarriageable
2) which makes her: less of a woman

This is why women rush to get married before they hit 30, otherwise relatives will start talking behind her back. They wouldn’t think that she’s a happy single woman, but probably one with eccentric thinking / fugly and that’s why no man wants her.

My point is that one does not grow old for nothing. When one is at a more mature age, one is more likely to be happier. Because you are no longer that insecure teenager, who worries about that pimple on her forehead and not having enough money to buy her favourite idol’s CD or fund her constant craving for designer coffee.

You are now a financially-independent, self-assured woman. And, then, you do not have to worry about not having enough money to finance your craving for Starbucks coffee, because now, you’re eyeing that Prada handbag you saw that day at Paragon. Hahaha!

Too many people live for the future.

To be truly happy, you must live for the moment.

致：无聊的女人

亲爱的朋友，

爱要有遗憾才美，你相信吗？

失恋了。

什么语言都是多余的吧，唯有自己静下心来安静思考。

我的字眼可能很单纯，但看得比较清澈，明白。

什么才叫做失恋？

朋友暗恋的男生，爱上了另外一个女孩，只好忍痛割爱，哭得死去活来。

可他们从来都没有在一起过，这种单方面的爱情，可以称得上失恋吗？

记得去年同班同学失恋了。

刚开始，与男友吵架，有一天把一张臭脸搬到课室来，整班同学都吓呆了。

后来，分手了。

失恋后的一段日子，她变得很纳闷，不怎么爱说话。

她在网上发泄一切。

天天以一双红肿肿的双眼来上课，很明显的哭了一整个晚上。

朋友看了都很心疼。

我要说的是: 可以失恋，但是万万不可失态！！

Happy 21st Birthday

HAPPY 21ST TO STEFFYA!!!

Friendster does -ve to my ego

I'm convinced. Friendster has a -ve impact on my ego.

As if I need any more evidence as to how much of a prude I am, there my ex-classmates are, frolicking under the Sentosa sun in their skimpy beachwear and short shorts, propped by their frail, anorexic frames. With their suggestive poses targeted at lesbianism (it's supposed to be cool, hunny), their lobster-coloured faces which hint of more than a pint of alcohol, their mascara-laden eyelashes and their skinny bodies weighted down by heavy, bulky jewellery.

Excuse me, is this what is supposed to be hot?

Then, sorry to disappoint you, I'm somewhat of a prude.

Have the young, giggly schoolgirls I've known during my secondary days matured into full-grown adults? All of them seem to sport the same sultry/slutty look, with the same 45-angle tilt of their heads to pose for the camera lens, the same drugged/drunked look, the same low-cut dresses and the same Rainie Yang pout. Some are beyond recognisable, you would have thought they have merged into someone different altogether.

Excuse me, have I been left way behind during the emergence of these camera whores?

I'm 18 (going on 19), for goodness sake! Then, why do I feel like a conservative, old granny with her ancient way of thinking lagging behind modern society, instead of the young, opinionated teenage lass I'm supposed to be?

Sigh, I'm suffering from the demise of my search for self-identity, and slowly conforming into the mould society has moulded for me. What if I don't fit in? Am I forever going to be known as the nerd with four eyes and always carrying a pile of books, topping the class with good grades and combined with a penchant for walking with her head facing the ground?

This is bad! I need to do something about my self-image, I don't want to always be known as the socially-awkward member of society.

I need to start wearing lipstick.
I need to start wearing ten-inch stilettos.
I need to find a boyfriend accessory.
I need to find friends who are perpetual camera whores.
I need to wear contact lenses.
I need to dye my hair brown.
I need to start being obsessed with my looks.
I need to start having self-praise for myself because I'm god-damned the most beautiful creature God every created. (Yeah, right)
I need to start failing my exams.
I need to start clubbing.
I need to start partying.
I need piercings/tattoos.
I need to start talking about plastic surgery. A lot. Oh, wait, I already am. Ok, I need to start talking about it in a positive light, then.

I need to lose some of my brains.
And, while I'm at that, I need to lose some weight as well.

Then, also hor, I have to re-set my blog settings such that when you right-click on any of my navigation links, the words "I'm Beautiful" will pop up. Sigh, there are so many things to do to revamp myself into plastic Barbie lar! I haven't even touched on the topic of Ken yet...(ok, later...maybe not)

I need to set up a wishlist on my sidebar, then I cannot write things like "The Da Vinci Code" or "Your Dummy's Guide to Physics" or like what I did the last time, "The Nightmare Before Christmas alarm clock". Instead, I must write things like "Prada handbag" or "Mac concealer" or "XX Brand moisturiser"...and then, of course, not forgetting the all-important priority -> PLASTIC SURGERY...aiyo, Barbie won't be complete without the plastic mah. What, you idiotic lah, you think Barbie made of Mattel human flesh ar ! Pfftph! Flesh will rot and sag, but plastic...nair mind...

Oh no! So many things to do, so little time!

[To my readers: Believe it or not, the above paragraph were all written with my fictional imagination, based on my own self-perception of people who chase beauty and material posessions and nothing else. The moment I turned my head, I surfed the web and chanced upon someone's blog which fulfilled all the criterion I've stated above. Yes, including plastic surgery at the age of 21. Heh..fiction versus reality, they may be closer than you think.]

Oh yeah, not to forget hor, I have to STOP writing this kind of articles in my blog. Instead, I have to talk about how beautiful I am, then take A LOT of pictures of myself and post them all over my blog. And, then, I have to blog 24/7 about my darhling Ken, and instead of dissing Bimbos, I have to lavish them with praise, because you see, even though I'm supposed to be Bimbotic but I have enough brains to know that I shouldn't diss my own alter ego, right anot? *rolls eyes conceitedly* I must have full confidence in myself, and must always remember to have self-praise for bimbos. Who cares about non-bimbos? They are just fugly people with low self-esteem.

And, then, not forgetting that I have to post pictures of myself with NO make-up on, and then proceed to brag to others how I still look like God Must Have Spent A Little More Time On My Face, EVEN with NO make-up on. Cannot cannot, sorry, if I really want to change myself hor, then I must STOP writing in proper English, after that no more credibility liao mah, ryt not...That girl really bitch man, I hate her. She think she so pretty, KNN, ask her go eat shit..Btw, I went Bugis with Sherlyn yesterday, ate at this Japanese restaurant (forgot wat is the name liao)...after tt went to buy b'dae present for Kathereen...ok, I gtg, bye!

Well, not to worry, the very first thing I need to do is start wearing lip gloss and STOP walking around with my grossly dry, cracked lips. Next, I need to start looking in the mirror more often (everywhere I go, my reflection in the MRT underground, glossy surfaces and outside exteriors of shops etc.). Then, I have to start practising the trademark pout -> which, basically, is to focus all the muscles around your mouth to one concentrated area: the peak of your lips. Easy, enough? Either that, or I have to start sticking out my tongue and blink one eye in every other photo-taking session. (Hey! All bimbos do that!) Next, I need to shed off my nerdy spectacles and replace it with supposedly cool shades that cover half of my face.

想要改变外在美，很难！

想要改善内在，难上加难！

For the sake of my self-image, I have to STOP looking like goody-two-shoes Hilary Duff and start transforming into the next lady tramp, Lindsay Lohan.

There's something I'm not very sure about though...I have no idea how to cool-speak. Do you say stuff like, "Yo, Mama!" or something? I have no idea...but I know I have to STOP typing 3/4 of my smses in full english.

"Kk...I have to see if I will be able to make it, will gif u a call tml."

have to become

"Kk...I c if i wil b able 2 mak it, gif u buzz tml."

I have a question here, who doesn't know that "give me a buzz" means "to ring up or give the other party a call"? The last time (ok, actually, 2 years ago) someone said to me to give her "a buzz"...and I went,

"I'm sorry, give you a what?"

"Give me a buzz."

I looked at her as though she were crazy, why would she want me to give her a bumblebee?

"A buzz." She repeated.

Images of bumblebees and mosquito bites remained in my mind.

Finally, she said, exasperated. "A call. Give me a call."

Oh! Ooi, please lah, want me to call you then just say the words C-A-L-L lah, what for buzz here buzz there, I have no idea what that means. (ok, now, I do.)

Ahh, so the true meaning of cool-speak is to speak in a language that no one can understand, to show that you are a cut above the rest because you lingo speak, and have so much linguistic talent in you ozzing out, like apple fillings ozzing out of a pie.

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After saying so much, everyone knows that I will still remain the nerd that I am, and whatever that is written above was in good humour. I have a friend who told me that she tried to shed off her geeky image by purposely failing her exams. She wanted to fit in. Who knows better than me how nerds and good grades will always be associated and misconstrued to fit into the same sentence?

Once, someone said in front of me to my friend that I was a nerd. (Not in a bad way, of course)

I asked her, "Why do you say I am a nerd?"

She replied, "Because you always get good grades mah."

Does being a food lover make you a glutton? Does being skinny make you an aneroxic? Does getting good grades make you a nerd?

Sadly, yes.

What we know as right or wrong are all perceptions or angles of reality that mass media and the public have craved out for us. Maybe, it's time to break out of that mould.

Oh, you sexy, young, (bimbotic) thing

They are young. They are sexy. They are bold.

They dress provocatively, showing off their flair for every female's instinct to want to look their best. They splash extravagant amounts of time and money on clothes with little thread, on skimpy skirts with mere inches that would make Paris Hilton proud, on gossip so deadly and venomous the snakes would hiss at the sight of it.

They are also what I term 'the bimbotic girls'.

Every once in a while, there is a new addition. The girls come and go, as the core members of the team remain. But, any girl who wishes to enter the team must fulfil one basic criteria: to dress provocatively or sexily. They have zero tolerance for prudes or conservativists, and are not afraid to show off their power by...whining to "Daddy Dearest". "Daddy Dearest" is a very flattering term for a short, fat, balding middle-aged man, isn't it?

Forget about quizing them on algebraic equations or the theory of mechanism. They are here for one sole purpose: to look good. They may be clueless about E=mc2, but are pro in manipulating the minds of the men around them, memerising them enough to be at their beck and call.

Never mind that they or their admirers are married or attached. Men hanker and lust after them. Einstein's theory of gravity would seem like a foreign language to them, and all you should expect in return are blank and clueless stares. They sprout out words of wisdom like, "Women were born to be pampered" and "Would it hurt to let your boyfriend wait for you? It's men duty to wait for women. And, as we all know, women need time to make-up. Do men need time to make-up? No."

As the width of their skirt gets shorter and shorter, they climb higher and higher up the corporate ladder.

They thrive on the sheer power of strength.
They feed on men's hunger and weakness.
They are the masters of the show.
And men are their puppets.

Like manufactured barbie dolls, they are the living species dominating the earth. And men's minds. They have a certain mould and standard to abide to, and they must always and only marry Ken. Ken = Dashing prince-charming, with lotsa of love (optional) and money to spare. Looks are optional, but the size of your wallet must be sufficient enough to fund their random shopping sprees and their never-ending quest for beauty, even way into their 30s.

Like Madonna, they are the material girls. I wonder why they spend S$700 on a skirt with so little cloth. Are there not enough Lindsay Lohans and her mini-skirts around?

The beauty of their youth is their currency. They have unadulterated lust and passion for money, and they exchange their time, affections and youth in return for money and to gratify their superficial chase for materialism.

They want money. Money and more money. To finance their facials, spas, salon visits, beauty products, etc etc. Anything to maintain their youthful looks and put time to a standstill, "not put time on their faces".

I quote a poem I once came across:

He's 61. And I'm 21.
He enjoys my company,
and I enjoy his.
I think it's called First World Bank.

In the office, Britney's "From the Bottom of My Broken Heart" is playing on their stereo on repeat mode. Talk about noise pollution, is this their idea of good music? I have no qualms about listening to Britney's crooning vocals, but I simply cannot stand the fact that these are the very people who complain that we turn the office into a fish market of sorts. Can they please orchestrate their thoughts and iron out the reasons behind their dissent before speaking out? Why aren't they practising what they preach?

While some (females) may find such an environment stifling, others (men) appreciate the eye-candies walking around an otherwise uninteresting office environment with females decked out in boring black suit pants.

It's a miracle, that as society progresses, human beings seem to have left their brains behind while on a wild goose chase after technological advances.