A Bore, A Broom & Abroad

It's Dec soon

2010-11-21T22:08:00.003+08:00

Hmm, it's been ages since I posted something. Not that I have a bunch of avid followers clamoring for updates. Sigh, wishful thinking indeed.

It'll be Dec soon, and I'm getting on in years. Yuck, I sound ancient. I DO feel ancient at work with the bratty & smart alecky people around me. I feel human only when it's 5.30pm and I'm running hell-bent to catch the bus leaving the company.

In order to deflect my precipitating depression of not having a hot date on my birthday, I've gone crazy and made impromptu flight bookings. For someone who's deprived of a vacation for 5 months, I've gone overboard and confirmed a short trip to Hong Kong and planning another trip to Turkey, all in Dec.

Yay, finally got the chance to wear my winter trench coat after moldering in the cupboard for close to 3 years.

D will be snuggled close to wife. No, I'm not jealous or sad. Simply accepting of the fact.

Well, on the other hand I've scented a potential trophy. A Korean guy who visited us 2 months back. Hmm, right age, smart, gentlemanly & shy.

Did I really hear him comparing me to dew? As in the morning dew? Or was he talking about the Jinro Chamisul soju? Chamisul is translated to dew in English.

Did I have too much to drink that night? Couldn't be cos he was careful not to let me drink too much after I made my absolutely-hopeless-alcohol-drinker status known.

I hope he comes to Singapore soon, or he makes a firm invitation to bring me around should I visit Korea again. I've been there twice and it has to be an irresistible offer before I spend my own money to fly over.

But then again, I can drop hints about the upcoming birthday and my absence from office for most of Dec and test the water.

Diabolical.

I Am Sylvie

2010-01-13T21:50:00.004+08:00

Bro has been asking my blog link. How could I give away this piece of myself?

This blog has been a haven; a place where I could pen thoughts and feelings that I could not share with my friends and family. There are always times when I need to unload these things of my chest and what better way to do it than in an anonymous blog?

How could I tell anyone of J & D? The only person who had inkling was my ex-boss and he didn't have a complete picture. As for D, there's always a connection between us even though he is married now.

If anyone happens to stumble into this blog, well, I hope he/she enjoys reading the posts and I wouldn't mind if he/she is laughing at the silliness/crappiness. That's the beauty of anonymous blogging.

I am Sylvie but Sylvie is not my name.. :)

I Love... And I Hate Updated

2010-01-13T20:58:00.013+08:00

I was looking through my older postings and this one caught my eye. I had written it in May 2009, and it's been six months and many changes later, it's really due for a quick update.

I love...
- Hayao Miyazaki's animated films. They made me smile, laughed and cried.
- smartly groomed men (Korean men's ruffled hairstyle optional).
- loved going on business trips.. I could ogle above-mentioned men without denting my pockets.
(Update: Disclaimer, this statement is true for almost all countries, except for China which I went to at least 5 times in 2009. Incidentally the Chinese men I saw were far from well groomed. Sigh, no eye candies in Land of Thousand Swines)
- angelic voices from unexpected faces.. faces people deemed not pretty enough. Bravo to Susan Boyle.
- Cantonese-speaking Hong Kong dramas & movies.
- kooky dance-and-sing sequences.
(Update: Yay to the Single Ladies parody by Justin Timberlake in SNL. Watch it here)
- to complain. J called me the Complaint Queen. *shrug*
(Update: J is married. 2x *shrug*)
- men who can take my grouchy no-talk persona in the morning before I have coffee.
- men who listen to my complaints without any complaints.
(Update: OK, I shall not expect most men to be patient saints and will accept their own grumblings and complaints about moi)
- men who just shrug when I spat out Ribena just a centimeter away from their sleeves.
(Update: OK, I was referring to Doraemon originally. D is married and I gave him a fricking big angpow. That guy broke my heart and made me bust my piggy bank)
- men who drag me off to coffee breaks when I was depressed & frustrated with imbecilic colleagues.
- men who invite me along for business trips and feel immeasurably guilty when he can't spend time with me on the weekends.
(Update: OK, enough about D already. Even though he is still asking me to visit when he's on business trips. Loyalty to your oaths, D!)
- men who share my love for Hong Kong and distaste for Taiwan.
(Update: Erm, OK, this is actually harder to find than a $50 note lying on the floor)
- men who chat me with on MSN while he's sitting just in front on me.
- it when people say "go to Sylvie, she'll know what to do.."
(Update: Yes, I'm egoistic that way)
- watching people dance. Sadly I have 3 left feet.
- sweating toxins out of the body in Hot Yoga.
(Update: I'd been off Yoga for more than 3 years. Have just started Beginner Hatha Yoga with a volunteer group. I find this more fulfilling than the commercialised yoga centres)
- buying skincare products. My bank balance is sighing in disgust.
- to travel, and travel.
(Update: Got a 10year visit pass to US. Yay!)
- knowing that I can put on a thick layer of skin and ask for favours. Previously I was always the party granting favours. Not that, you idiot. Get your mind out of the gutter.
- knowing that my friends have faith in me, that I will pull though this period of darkness (read: unemployment) and land an ideal job.
- knowing what my friends are doing, even though there's no verbal or written communication. Facebook is good for pulling back friends I've known since childhood.
- listening to Tsai Chin's melodious voice.
- being able to find a song title simply from the first verse of the song and its singer.

I hate...
- watching Hong Kong movies in Singapore. They are all dubbed in atrocious Mandarin!
- going to highly rated eateries cos Singaporeans' tastes inevitably suck.
- people who go to sleep the second they see heavily pregnant women/elderly folks/ parents with kids boarding the train. Karma, people.
- bossy people who think they know everything. Hello, I got tested with Mensa, OK? No numb brains here, and I don't claim to know a lot of stuff myself.
- people who just spew things they read/hear on the way to work to sound knowledgeable. They sound too desperate instead.
- colleagues who acted blur and pushed their responsibilities. WTH, I joined the company two years ago and you're still saying "we're still learning" after the 10th year in the company. Dun make me laugh and puke at the same time.
- men who took off their shoes and rub their feet at my cubicle. WTF?
- men who dig around their shoes sole for (hidden) nuggets of gold. WTF?? With our European counterpart looking on in bewilderment.
- people who come looking me to me to solve their problems. WTF? Am I your boss? Or your mother??
- people who expect me to catch every bloody mistake other people make only 10days before all my new product launches. WTF? Aren't they supposed to be their own job? Since when was my job scope include validating GLOBAL business unit & REGIONAL marketing stuff? The last I heard, I'm in the engineering department.
- people exhorting me to agree to a 5% pay cut when they themselves are getting 10-400x monthly bonuses at year end while I get a measly half-month bonus.
- it when people say "go to Sylvie, she'll know what to do" every hour of the 5 working days. Use your blain, people or they'll rot.
- being tickled in the waist. Even by the best friend. I specifically TOLD her not to do it.
- people who acts blur and refuse to pay up their debts. Karma, people.
- drinking latter with milk. Euuww.
- owing people money.
(Update: I aim to shorten the list of hates by end of 2010. Till then, I shall not add more angst to it.)

I'm A Guy Mentally

2010-01-12T00:00:00.005+08:00

One of my brothers just confirmed this for me: I'm a guy mentally.

Point in case: a female friend was talking about Kate Spade leather bags costing approximately $3K. My eyes glazed over; with $3K I could get a good plasma TV and Bose sound system, I didn't want a bag costing four figures.

I love F1, prefer action movies (yay, Transformers) rather than dreary rom-coms.

I love Harold & Kumar for their crappiness and Borat for his lime green mankini (bro told me it's called a Wicked Weasel and the Japanese babes love to wear it).

Sigh. Thanks, bro.

AB

2010-01-06T12:25:00.008+08:00

Does our blood type really have such a big impact?

I'm an AB+, in fact I am the only one in the family with AB, with only 5% of the world's population sharing the characteristics.

The Japanese & Koreans believe we are what our blood group is. In short, we are severely affected by our blood group; what we need to eat to stay healthy and our personality do hark back to the presence or lack of some antigens on the red blood cells.

Yes, the AB+ people are of a small group. But what is there to complain when we are the Universal Acceptors? My ex-boss accused me of being selfish. I think he was quite envious.

Second Time Leaving

2009-11-19T12:03:00.002+08:00

Last week, I joined a farewell lunch organised for a few people who are leaving the company due to "redeployment". I am one of them.

This will be my second and final time leaving the company. And I cannot be an employee again unless approved by the VP. Well, since I have anticipated this when I volunteered myself for redeployment, I'm not exactly crying buckets of tears.

Wish me luck as I leave the mothership (again). There are new colonies to be discovered.

:)

I Love.. And I Hate..

2009-05-01T16:45:00.004+08:00

I love...
- Hayao Miyazaki's animated films. They made me smile, laughed and cried.
- smartly groomed men (Korean men's ruffled hairstyle optional).
- loved going on business trips.. I could ogle above-mentioned men without denting my pockets.
- angelic voices from unexpected faces.. faces people deemed not pretty enough. Bravo to Susan Boyle.
- Cantonese-speaking Hong Kong dramas & movies.
- kooky dance-and-sing sequences.
- to complain. J called me the Complaint Queen. *shrug*
- men who can take my grouchy no-talk persona in the morning before I have coffee.
- men who listen to my complaints without any complaints.
- men who just shrug when I spat out Ribena just a centimeter away from their sleeves.
- men who drag me off to coffee breaks when I was depressed & frustrated with imbecilic colleagues.
- men who invite me along for business trips and feel immeasurably guilty when he can't spend time with me on the weekends.
- men who share my love for Hong Kong and distaste for Taiwan.
- men who chat me with on MSN while he's sitting hust in front on me.
- it when people say "go to Sylvie, she'll know what to do.."
- watching people dance. Sadly I have 3 left feet.
- sweating toxins out of the body in Hot Yoga.
- buying skincare products. My bank balance is sighing in disgust.
- to travel, and travel.

I hate...
- watching Hong Kong movies in Singapore. They are all dubbed in atrocious Mandarin!
- going to highly rated eateries cos Singaporeans' tastes inevitably suck.
- people who go to sleep the second they see heavily pregnant women/elderly folks/ parents with kids boarding the train. Karma, people.
- bossy people who think they know everything. Hello, I got tested with Mensa, OK? No numb brains here, and I don't claim to know a lot of stuff myself.
- people who just spew things they read/hear on the way to work to sound knowledgeful. They sound too desperate instead.
- colleagues who acted blur and pushed their responsibilities. WTH, I joined the company two years ago and you're still saying "we're still learning" after the 10th year in the company. Dun make me laugh and puke at the same time.
- men who took off their shoes and rub their feet at my cubicle. WTF?
- men who dig around their shoes sole for (hidden) nuggets of gold. WTF?? With our European counterpart looking on in bewilderment.
- people who come looking me to me to solve their problems. WTF? Am I your boss? Or your mother??
- people who expect me to catch every bloody mistake other people make only 10days before all my new product launches. WTF? Aren't they supposed to be their own job? Since when was my job scope include validating GLOBAL business unit & REGIONAL marketing stuff? The last I heard, I'm in the engineering department.
- people exhorting me to agree to a 5% pay cut when they themselves are getting 10-400x monthly bonuses at year end while I get a measly half-month bonus.
- it when people say "go to Sylvie, she'll know what to do" every hour of the 5 working days. Use your blain, people or they'll rot.
- being tickled in the waist. Even by the best friend. I specifically TOLD her not to do it.
- people who acts blur and refuse to pay up their debts. Karma, people.
- drinking latter with milk. Euuww.
- owing people money.

My Authentic Japanese Name

2009-01-31T12:13:00.003+08:00

Tried a Japanese name generator, and voila, my name turns out to be.. erm Stone Well Blessed with Love.

Sounded more like a Native American name rather than a Japanese one. Oh well.. pretty accurate I guess. My family can readily concur that I'm quite stone-headed.

My authentic Japanese name is 石井 Ishii (stone well) 愛恵 Itoe (bless with love).

Take your real japanese name generator! today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Name Generator Generator.

When Can We See This in Singapore

2009-01-30T23:31:00.004+08:00

What would you get when you put a train station + creative brains + great songs to shake your bon-bon to?

Ta-da... T-Mobile's advert, shot at Liverpool Street station.

Read & watch this great ad here.

This is a challenge to the big telco companies out there and the ad people (assuming my great blog is being read by more than yours truly):

Outdance the Brits! And do it at the great Dhoby Ghaut interchange station where the soaring escalators would look smashing on TV like the stairs at Liverpool Street station (but pls stop the escalators from moving else you'll have people stumbling all).

And who said the Brits are staid??

p/s: Drop me a note if this is going to happen, I wanna dance. Or even if I failed the audition, I want to be there to jig along!

I Need A Life Outside Work

2008-08-25T21:45:00.002+08:00

Stop calling and messaging me when I'd said I was on MC. How did anyone expect me to be coherent when I was doped up to my gills?!

Need a new job... STAT!

Irony

2008-08-08T21:45:00.002+08:00

It came back a full circle, my relationship with J.

We met in the course of work in 2003, I left the company in 2004 and we lost contact in 2005.

The astrologer was bloody definitely wrong. I'm still a singleton.

Move forward to 2008, I'm back at the company. And last week I was informed that J would be the engineering manager supporting our work. Since the bulk of my products are being manufactured in his company, I can't see the way out.

Face the music, the voice whispered.

Easier said than done, when I barely have the idea what happened a few years ago.

Three months ago, I was at this company for a new line qualification. I was waiting at the lobby when he walked past. His glance passed over me, he did not pause in his stride and moved on.

Fine, if that is the way to be.

I will smooth my face into perfect blankness the next time we meet.

The weapons are engaged.

Indifference.

Smooth Ride

2008-07-28T22:19:00.002+08:00

It was after a colleague's wedding dinner, another colleague offered to drive me & another girl home. Of course we jumped at the chance of taking a ride in his BMW 335.

Wait, wait, we're not that highly paid, it's just him whom is loaded to have bought this BMW 335 after selling his Mercedes Benz SLK.

As we cruised on the CTE/SLE and back to SLE after dropping the girl, my colleague asked me, "Have you met anyone interesting in the office? What kind of guys are you looking for? There are so many single guys around, you girls have your pick!"

I considered his questions, and gave some glib answers:
- presentable (don't have to be movie star handsome; nice-looking enough for me to consider waking up to his face everyday in the morning for the rest of my life)
- intelligent (smarter or at least as smart as I am)
- confident (enough self assurance to withstand/accept my stubborness/frankness/bluntness)
- humurous (won't get mad if I laugh at him, able to laugh at himself and other mundane things in life)
- kind (won't treat people like bugs, the crush-you-like-a-cockroach mentality would only turn me off and make me nasty)

Of course, the words in brackets were left unsaid but I thought he understood them.

"Singapore guys not geniuses but they are not brick dumb either. Not looking for a rich guy? You really haven't met anyone whom fulfills your criteria?"

I laughed, "If he's smart, he'll be rich if he's not already rich right now. Too bad you're married with a kid. I really like your car."

:)

Super Klutz Girl is Back

2008-07-28T22:14:00.002+08:00

I'm back.

Fresh off getting a brand new handset, I was impatient to slide in the battery & SIM card and plug it to the charger and happily explore the 5MP camera.

Yet, 8 hours later, I sat stumped on the bed. With scratched/cracked nails. And the back cover that stayed stubbornly immobile.

WTH?

I gotta ask Doraemon to help uncover it. His sister got a similar set not so long ago.

Klutzy klutzy Sylvie...

Feeling Like Death Warmed Over

2008-06-16T21:22:00.002+08:00

I've been known to have bouts of coughing/flu frequently. But this time it really dragged on for weeks.

Last week, after I visited the good doctor for the THIRD time in two weeks for the same sickness, my colleague pulled me off to cafeteria for a quick break.

Turned out my colleague was dying to tell me something. Her relationship with her second boyfriend ended six years ago, yet they still continue to live together in the same flat as her sisters. There was no closure, and even though she went on to meet other guys and is going steady with someone right now, she was still holding a torch for her ex/flatmate.

And she was dealt a hard blow when her ex dived into a serious relationship three weeks ago. Every mention of the other girl, every time he was late coming home and every weekend he was spending her was torturing her.

There's no going back to the past, they have to move on, yet the fact that it's the turning point for them breaks her heart.

She could only move forward, and give her blessings to her ex. She wants to retain the friendship that has lasted more than two decades, and cherish the good memories.

She was saying she admired me for being very clear on Doraemon, and hoped that she could do the same for her ex.

I tried to excuse myself when I felt my eyes getting wet by blaming it on the indefatigable bug. Yet I knew better. Hadn't the scene be played between Doraemon and I? We aren't flatmates, we just live nearby each other and got on so famously well that many thought we were a dating couple.

But there's no denying the same heavy squeezing which I'd felt when I knew that there were no way we could move beyond friendship. I just hope that the process wouldn't be too hard for her.

I was really feeling like death warmed over, both physically and emotionally.

-_-

Let's Go Get Something from Tiffany

2008-05-20T21:38:00.010+08:00

I got ping'ed on MSN 30mins ago by one of my brothers.

Bro: ask u somthng
Bro: assume a guy wants to bring u to tiffany's to buy u smthng.
Bro: u would ask why rite?
Bro: as in whatz e occasion
Sylvie: yup
Bro: n if he says no particular reason, would u think he likes u?
Sylvie: if he's buying something for me, ya lor
Sylvie: no meh?
Bro: n if the gal has no clue at all, does it make her really "dumb?
Sylvie: erm... blur la
Bro: wah lanz
Sylvie: what?

(Have I failed some "stoopid" test or what?)

Bro: dunno if she acts blur or IS blur
Sylvie: hoho... u brought someone to tiffany ah?
Bro: but if she can't figure it out, this gal is not worth it
Sylvie: some girls need to be told straight to their face
Bro: maybe she never expected it fr me
Sylvie: what did u get for her?
Bro: i wanted to bring her there to choose
Bro: but she's like damnnnn sotong
Sylvie: haha...
Bro: i guess she always saw me as a bro
Sylvie: give her another chance la
Sylvie: hmm... well, drop some hints la
Bro: isnt it obvious tt i m bringin her to tiff's?
Bro: which bro brings a sister to tiff's
Bro: tt would be "incest" lol
Bro: i dunno what to do now
Bro: if she doesnt get it, i will drop e ball
Sylvie: another try la
Sylvie: if u really like her, give it another whirl
Bro: u think what? bewitched ar
Bro: it's SO obvious lor
Bro: tell her want to bring her to tiff's
Bro: then she still can't figure it out
Sylvie: haha.. dun be so proud lei.. it's your future 'appiness
Bro: wth

(5 mins later.. )

Sylvie: Bro, did we ever go to Tiffany together?
Bro: NO!!!

Haha, freaked him out good. Did I ace the "stoopid" test or what?

;-)

Sad

2008-04-29T23:14:00.005+08:00

Sad.

My maternal grandma passed away on 28 Apr, in Malaysia. I feel sad, but am really more sad at myself because till now, I am not able to shed any tears.

Nothing is wrong with my tear ducts; I'd wept copiously at the funeral wakes of my uncle and aunt. And I get tears in my eyes whenever I watch a sad/touching show or read some sappy stories.

Guess the subject matter is really the dominant factor. Mom said I didn't have to go to the wake.

Love is earned, it is NOT present by default just because of blood relationship.

Lunchtime Escapade - Ogling the Nissan Skyline GT-R

2008-04-23T21:19:00.004+08:00

Today, for a lark, we went to Turf City for lunch.

For the uninitiated, Turf City used to be a horse racing track in Singapore before the Kranji race track was up and running. Now, Turf City has turned into a used/new-car mart with a plethora of seafood restaurants and a Giant, amongst many other smaller shops.

And wow, I was blown away by a Nissan Skyline GT-R.

Pheweet!

Even a non-driver-with-a-driving-license covets this car. You hear that, Doraemon?

;-)

Klutzy Sylvie's Adventure on Bike

2008-04-15T21:28:00.013+08:00

Two years ago, I wrote about my disasters with my contact lenses. Now, I've confirmed that it's not a biennial anomaly, but rather an ingrained trait.

Yeah, I admit it, I'm the biggest klutz in the family. And probably in my department, heck, division, even.

See, two weeks ago, I went cycling with my colleagues at the East Coast Park. Every Singapore resident would know that the cycling paths in East Coast Park are among the best, maybe regionally.

Smoothly tarred blacktop that can accommodate 2 cyclists side by side comfortably. Not that we were cycling side by side, forming a roadblock, but you get the picture.

I last cycled two maybe 3 years ago, and my colleague was rather wobbly on her bike. The other two were holding their own.

Then I got the momentum going, and we happily pedalled to Changi Beach via the park connector. Or tried to.

3km to Changi Beach, we stopped to admire the planes on the Changi Airport runway. And I fiddled with the gears.

Our target was to cycle all the way to Changi Beach in one hour, but since we were 3km away from the target and yet busted half of the bike rental period, we decided to turn back. We'd reach Changi Beach another day.

Actually aching butt/thighs/calves were the main reason we turned back.

Halfway back, I was enjoying the brisk sea air when the bike drifted left towards the barrier. The water on the other side of the barrier flows into the sea. And the chain slipped.

Argh. The handlebar crashed to the barrier and it threw me up off to the right.

As I tumbled off the bike, I was thinking, "Thank God I'm not wearing shorts."

Must. Protect. Face. Argh. Blacktop.

Said blacktop was burning my elbow when I sat up and tried to get off the road. Skinned elbow was oozing blood.

Jeez, I could feel a serious bruise forming on my knee, courtesy of the handlebar.

My colleague (the one who wobbled) ran back and helped me up. Another came back to fix the bike chain.

Well, I'm klutzy but lucky too. Other than skinned elbow, giant bruise on knee and multiple smaller bruises on my legs, I was able to laugh it off.

Until I got home and elbow, knee, legs, thighs, butt, calves started to protest in earnest. And the next day was Monday!

My older sister offered to give me a massage, and proceeded to pound me for half and hour, with me screaming/laughing like a banshee. The baby (my 8 month old niece) sat looking at us in baffled delight at the new loud game.

The aches disappeared the next day (except for the raw elbow), but my knee was sporting a huge blue potato chip-like discoloration, which fascinated the baby endlessly.

We're planning another cycling joint this weekend, hopefully we'd go further than the last time.

And hopefully my klutziness has been expanded for a long, long time and becomes dormant.

P/S: Doraemon said he was not surprised I fell & showed no sympathy. OK, the next regional business trip, I'm going alone.

Smack In The Middle of The Jungle, Yet...

2008-03-25T22:31:00.003+08:00

I work in a MNC, in an engineering/manufacturing environment that about 75% of my colleagues are males. And I have a lot of male counterparts who are working closely with me in the States, China & EU.

And yet every time my childhood friends back in KL ask about my status, I'd shrug and say, "Nothing."

They couldn't believe that out of so many male colleagues, none of them managed to hit off with me. Well, I stand corrected. There is a bunch of (ex) colleagues that clicked so well with me that I've become an honorary sister to them. Haha.

My boss often despairs at our unmarried status (there are 4 of us girls in the team), and yet he couldn't lament too much or we'd shoot him back with "If we're all married, who would slog for you har?"

Work-life balance is easily said, yet so miserably unachievable, especially when the company goes overdrive into cost-reduction mode 75% of the financial year, every year.

Bangkok Weekend Trip

2008-03-22T20:28:00.009+08:00

Two weeks after the trip to Shanghai, I followed my colleague to Bangkok. She was there on business, I was there to take advantage of free hotel room.

Well, almost free, since we paid for a night's stay from our own pockets. $100 per person for a stay in the Intercontinental Hotel was really not to scoff at.

Plus, since I bought the cheapest air tickets on promotion, and yet got upgraded to Business and First Class, the trip was one of the best I've had.

I drank a glass of Billecart-Salmon Brut Champagne, and got delightfully tipsy. Too bad it was just a short 1hr 50min flight, I couldn't really doze off on champagne-induced drowsiness.

P/S: My lousy 2MP camera phone was not able to capture the string of bubbles that rose to the surface. You know what they said about the champagne bubbles; the smaller they are, the better the quality.

:-)

I 'Heart' Cathay Pacific

2008-03-21T21:44:00.004+08:00

My company's travel policy stated that whenever we travel on business needs, we are to take Singapore Airlines (SQ) except if we travel to the States, in which case we're to take United Airlines. I'm not so sure about the latter part since the engineers like myself do not get the chance to travel to the US.

Personally, I have nothing against SQ but I'd prefer to fly with Cathay Pacific (CX). Why?

CX stewardess are more warm compared to SQ girls. SQ girls can execute 180deg attitude change between Caucasian & local/Asian travellers so fast that they give me whiplash.
CX's scarlet uniform is smarter than SQ's blue kebaya. Also if a SQ Girl's butt is less than perky, the kebaya really shows it off to the whole plane. I've seen a number of sagging bums.
Blue eyeshadow is so passe. And so is gigantic big hair.
CX in flight meal is underrated. I personally prefer their Asian cuisine much better than SQ's.
I've been upgraded 3 out of 4 times I flew with CX. Even when I'd bought the cheapest air ticket on promotion, I'd sat in First Class section upstairs away from the mass of tourists, where I can see the Captain's balding head from my individually partitioned seat.
See (5). No other reason is more important.

I'll still fly with SQ on business, after all, the pricey air tickets are being paid by the company. But CX will be the first airline I'd choose on any personal journeys.

I heart CX.

6D5N Shanghai-Suzhou-Wuxi-Shanghai (Day 6)

2008-03-21T14:45:00.003+08:00

Flying back to Singapore.

Argh, back to work the next day. 2 more new products launching in the same week.

Back to brutal reality.

Doraemon said he'll join me the next business trip to Shanghai, which should be sometime in May/Jun period.

:-)

Read about Day 5
Read about Day 4
Read about Day 3
Read about Day 2
Read about Day 1

6D5N Shanghai-Suzhou-Wuxi-Shanghai (Day 5)

2008-03-21T13:34:00.007+08:00

The only day I didn't have to work and was free to explore the much touted Shanghai.

My collegaue brought me to Cheng Huan temple, and the nearby Yu Garden.

The Chinese New Year was officially over for 2008, yet the locals were not done celebrating. They were out in droves.

Favourite shot of the trip, the gaily red lanterns swinging against the sky.

All I managed was shoved-pushed-take-pictures-as-fast-as-possible as the mass of people pushed their way through the Yu Garden.

The Bund.

Read about Day 4
Read about Day 3
Read about Day 2
Read about Day 1

6D5N Shanghai-Suzhou-Wuxi-Shanghai (Day 4)

2008-03-21T13:16:00.005+08:00

Went to Wuxi, which was 45mins away from Suzhou. If we'd left from Shanghai, it'll be another 2 hours drive.

Instead of local food, we were brought to a restaurant serving Malaysian/Singaporean cuisine. Sigh, can't complain too much when people went out on their way to be hospitable.

The curry chicken was delicious, although the sinchew beehoon tasted very unlike what we have in Singapore. Oh well, some things have been localised to suit the local taste buds.

The drive back to Shanghai took 3 excruciating hours, and my colleague was stricken by gastric pains. Back to Hilton Shanghai again. This time they got the bed right.

Read about Day 3
Read about Day 2
Read about Day 1

6D5N Shanghai-Suzhou-Wuxi-Shanghai (Day 3)

2008-03-21T13:05:00.005+08:00

Still at Suzhou, and it happened to be the 15th of the Chinese New Year. Merry-making was all around us as we went out of the hotel for dinner. Rather than staying inside the hotel for room service, I asked my colleague to bring me about.

The American had left for Pudong to catch another flight to Bangkok. (What the heck is such travel policy that allowed him to go to Bangkok and work in the hotel room without going to the factory?? Such double standards.)

We had a big plate of celery (least favourite food of mine, but it tasted surprisingly good), stewed pig trotters and a huge bowl of soup. And something else I'd forgotten.

My colleague ate two bowls of rice (wow!), while I could hardly finished mine. And she polished off the gooey pig trotters (double wow!).

Then it was back to the hotel as we need to depart for Wuxi the next day.

Midnight, wokened up by a dazzling display of fireworks, right outside my bedroom window.

Read about Day 2
Read about Day 1

Sick

2008-03-09T22:38:00.006+08:00

Why is that after 24hours of the last round of medications, I am feeling woozy and as if (I hate to say this) I am going to topple off the chair very soon?

Gosh, I am so sick of being sick. Sick of working so hard that I'm incurring so much injuries and damages to my system. Sick of the cough that refused to go away completely after 2 years.

Sick of being a one-stop-service centre for people whom should know their work better.

Sick of the daily Oh-I-dunno-about-this-let's-run-this-by-Sylvie-and-let-her-settle-this load of crap from people earning at least 1.5x my salary.

Stop sleepwalking in your job and earn your pay!

Am not a social worker nor you mother!

Funny World

2008-03-02T00:14:00.007+08:00

When Doraemon told me one of the supervisors whom we worked with in the same program had manged to get a job with a logistics company, I was happy for him.

But when I heard what position he got, I nearly dropped the mug of coffee onto my notebook.

Yikes!

From Production Supervisor to Logistics Manager in less than 2 years? And his pay got increased by 300%?

Even Doraemon was a bit dazed and flabbergasted. I definitely was.

I think both of us may be earning less than what the ex-supervisor-now-manager is drawing.

Sad, sad day...

6D5N Shanghai-Suzhou-Wuxi-Shanghai (Day 2)

2008-02-27T20:15:00.007+08:00

The American was 6ft tall. That's my first impression when we met at the 21st floor lift lobby. He'd go back to the States with a crick in the neck (or back pains) as we Orientals are really not that tall. Haha.

Made him eat a tea-boiled egg. At least I didn't force a century egg down his throat, seeing how Fear Factor puts it in the gross food challenge.

It's confirmed, the American was a bit mad to be wearing just a cotton shirt, waiting outside for our pickup. In a 5 degC day. I was comfortably dressed in thermal wear, thick sweater AND a long knee length trench coat.

After stamping our feet for quite some time (the American finally succumbed and pulled on a sweater), our transport finally arrived and I got to meet the 2 Shanghainese girls I'd been emailing & calling for the first time. One of them said I looked more like I came from Hong Kong instead of Singapore.

The American asked conspiratorally, "Is that good or bad?" Haha.

Whatever, I shall take it positively.

Suzhou was much colder than Shanghai. 2 degC, and the wind was blowing madly. We could see lumps of snow on the pavements, still melting away. At least we did not come during the storm.

At 6.30pm, we left the factory to check into Holiday Inn Jasmine.

Plasma TV!

And the bathroom was much nicer than that of Hilton's. Suzhou is much more affordable after all.

Had local food for dinner, and we chatted over dinner till 9.30pm.

Read about Day 1

6D5N Shanghai-Suzhou-Wuxi-Shanghai (Day 1)

2008-02-27T19:56:00.006+08:00

Shanghai, at 12 degC was refreshing. It was like being slapped on the face with an icy cold wet towel. I huddled into my jacket and tried desperately not to duck behind behemoth trucks/buses as I trooped along the driver to get to his MPV.

I was given a twin bed deluxe room at the Hilton. Oh well, another place to dump the jacket/bag/whatever things dumpable.

It was only 6.30pm but I was trying desperately to keep my eyes open and from falling face-front into the room service trolley. The 6.45am flight to KL had really tuckered me out.

Dinner: Grilled unagi, with charming pussy willow branches on the side. Non-edible:charming pussy willow branches in clear glass.

Dessert: Lemon yogurt in mousse (or was it yogurt in lemon mousse?).

The night traffic as seen from the room.

After making an appointment to meet a US colleague for breakfast the next morning (having declined to have dinner with him, breakfast was the graceful way to go), I fell asleep watching "The Mummy".

Tomorrow will be a 2hr ride to Suzhou, with 3 of my Shanghai collegues. Another bum ride.

Sigh

Flying to Shanghai in Less than 48 Hours

2008-02-17T14:46:00.005+08:00

After my company travel agent f*cked up (again!) and left me uninformed about a previously-confirmed-turned-non-operational-flight to Shanghai, I am now to depart on Tuesday instead, 2 days later than originally planned.

At an ungodly 6.45am flight to KL, then to Shanghai. I'm expected to touch down at Pudong at 2.30pm.

Well, beggars can't be picky, not when all SQ flights are fully booked for days and the other alternative is flying on a China Eatern flight. Meals are not included in the CE flight. WTH? No wonder there are empty seats for ALL CE flights I've checked.

Another point was a question my bro asked me, "You wanna put your life on risk for the company?" Nasty, but very succintly put.

I'm not sure I'd even turn up at the Shanghai office on Tues, I'm scared of turning into an ice block the moment I step out of any solid, protective, enclosed buildings.

So it's Shanghai, Suzhou, Wuxi and back to Shanghai lugging my luggage, notebook backpack and 1kg of BBQ meat (for the China colleagues & CM) where I'd spend two nights before flying back to Singapore. And the week after, 2 days will be spent in Johor Bahru for pilot runs.

Too bad there's no FFP for the JB trips, or I'd be able to claim a free flight to the States anytime.

I desperately need a break from work.

What Is He Up To?

2008-02-04T20:46:00.000+08:00

When my collegeau found out that Doraemon planned to tag along on my Shanghai trip, she did a double take.

I could see how hard it was for her to keep the questions from tumbling from her mouth as we were having lunch outside. After all, it's a silent agreement that only a few people know about my relationship (or lack thereof) with Doraemon. And my junior colleague was not one of them.

Then after lunch, she dropped by my cubicle, and sort of squatted down, munching a pineapple tart.

"Wanna be kaypoh a bit, what is the PM up to?"

I was stumped (after 3 hours of department meeting and non-stop calls), and was about to ask which PM (since at any one time, I'm working with at least 5 PMs), when it dawned that we refer to only Doraemon as the PM.

"I dunno, he's just taking an advantage of my trip to stay at a good hotel."

"But he has a girlfriend, right?"

Well, I'm not entirely sure about that as everytime I asked him about her, he'd hedge and change the topic.

"Seriously, I don't know."

Yeah, what's a 33 year old guy up to when he wants to tag along on a female's friend business trip, sharing the same hotel room?

And he has asked me a couple of times to go on business trip with him.

Am I mistaking friendship for something more? Or taking something else as friendship?

Sigh..

Are The Quizes Legit?

2008-02-02T23:14:00.000+08:00

Holy crap, how do I get labeled as promiscuous??

* It looks better on a white background, but I can't be bothered..

:)

Crazy Bros

2008-02-02T22:02:00.000+08:00

At work, I got along so well with a bunch of guys that they proclaim themselves to be my brothers. It all stemmed from from the years of working together and shopping for DVDs on our weekly working trips to the JB factories.

The 3 of them have moved out to a different business unit, but we are still occupying the same office complex. Thus tea breaks are always hilarious times where we trade insults and gossips, and a bewildering time for anyone not familiar with the trio.

Gosh, I love them, my bitchy brothers.

They bring levity into my monotonous, dreary working hours, and much needed pointers on my career directions.

Thanks, bros.

Shanghai Shanghai

2008-02-02T21:54:00.000+08:00

I'll be flying off to Shanghai on 17th Feb for a week long business trip. While I'm excited about the chance of going off on company expenses (SIA, Hilton!), I dread the cold weather I'm about to brave.

Heck, the last time I was in China, it was -3deg C and my snot froze disgustingly. My fingers were aching and it was bloody misery anyone from a tropical country could encounter. I still remember the 5 layers of clothing I put on during the day and times I almost got burnt by the electric blanket at night.

Gosh, I hope the moisturiser wouldn't freeze in the tube or I'll crack.. all over.

Sigh.

A Better Year Ahead?

2008-01-24T21:32:00.000+08:00

My friend Dor, is a closet fengshui junkie. After understudying a Feng Shui master for $20K, she goes around dispensing nuggets of wisdom to select few.

Moi am one of the few who'd get fengshui advice all year round, totally FOC.

Though I normally take all these with a pinch of salt, well, sometimes it's hard not to burst out laughing or smacking Dor silly.

The Year of the Rat is a good one for the Dragons.

(1) Career-wise, it'll be of leaps and bounds of progress and recognition.

Moi: Har? Means more work?! I'm already doing a whole year's worth of my colleagues programs in just 4 months!
Dor: The bosses will give you recognition lor.
Moi: Sheeeeet... Means more work la... Got 100% increment or not?
Dor: %^&*(

(2) Romance will bloom and you'll likely get married this year.

Moi: Married? Marrying who?
Dor: Aiyah, your future hubby has appeared la... You've known him for sometime...
Moi: Are you sure? [wracking my head, trying to think of possible hubby candidates..]
Dor: Wait a minute.. [grabbing my palm and turning it one way or another]
Dor: You're two-timing him!
Moi: Who the bloody hell am I two-timing?!
Dor: Yi jiao ta liang chuan (in pin yin)!
Moi: Who are the bloody boats?
Dor: And you'll get pregnant before tying the knot.
* faint

I just want to say on record, I am a traditional Chinese girl properly raised by her conservative parents.

So getting preggers before tying the knot is strictly not my POR.

POR = company lingo for Plan of Record

Less Than 6 Months.... But It Feels Like 5 Years

2008-01-22T23:07:00.000+08:00

My colleague and I were at the office pantry at 6.30pm. She just nuked a bento set someone passed to her and I was snacking on Chipsmore cookies.

The night shift cleaners came in to clear the rubbish and do general cleaning.

"Why are we the only ones here?" I asked around a mouthful of cookies.

She shrugged. "Cos we're dumb lor, taking on so many things. We're the unappreciated s***cleaner in the operations. "

We got to talk about members of a supporting team whom had not exactly performed in their jobs. We were constantly chasing and checking on them that it was causing some unhappiness amongst many people.

"But there are expectations, you see, when you're in the job for more than a year. Those guys joined a year ago, at least. But the girl who came in just 9 months ago is more settled and steady in the job."

That certainly cut to the chase.

She asked me, "How long have you joined the company?"

"Less than 6 months, recently."

"It certainly feels like 5 years."

I laughed. "Cos when you joined 4.5 years ago, I was one of those people who were pounding stuff into your head. That's how you arrive at 5 years."

Gosh, I gotta look for something else before all the headcounts go to China.

The Garden

2007-12-24T21:55:00.000+08:00

I grew up in a corner house, where there was a lawn spacious enough for us to play badminton. My parents grew bougainvilleas and other flowers, flooding the lawn with vivid colorful blooms which the envy of the neighbours.

Then the three of us came to Singapore to study, and settled down with our careers. My elder sister married a Singaporean, and virtually gave up her Malaysian citizenship. I worked in a high-tech industry where there were limited openings in Malaysia.

It came sooner than expected.

My parents started to talk about living with us in Singapore. We were glad that they were willing to leave their home for so many years to join us, yet sad that our home would need to be sold.

There was no way my parents could have held onto the houses (the corner house, and another spacious, airy double-storey house in the same estate) when they were in Singapore. They decided to sell.

So two large properties were sold, and the amount of money could barely buy a 4-room flat in Singapore. And to purchase a landed property here, well, you'll need a gazillion dollars.

Sigh.

I miss walking out to the lawn to enjoy the flowers.

One Week of Laziness

2007-12-24T21:46:00.000+08:00

Today marks the start of the one week Christmas shutdown my company effects every year.

One week during which I could sleep until awaken naturally, not by the annoying tinny beeps by the hand phone.

So what are my plans? I don't plan to join the exodus out of the country. Furthermore it's crazy to travel in this period, what with the screaming kids/brats on school holiday and absurd peak period surcharges.

The year I went to Taiwan, I paid a large sum of money to spend 60% of the journey riding the bus, 30% being dragged through local shopping outlets so that the tour guide could get fat on commissions.

So I'm going to while away the week, reading and drinking tea when it rains, binging on DVDs and visit the Louvre exhibits on loan in the National Museum of Singapore.

Sounds good, no?

Hugh Grant Sings!

2007-12-22T11:42:00.000+08:00

I first heard of "Way Back Into Love" in a karaoke session with my karaoke-mad colleagues.

"Eh, that sound like Fish Leong & Ping Guan," someone remarked when we were busily keying our prefered songs into the system.

Yup, it sure was. And it was a jaunty, sweet song too.

Although we did think that the title was a bit weird.

A Google search turned up interesting information, such as "Hugh Grant"!

Wow, didn't know he could sing.

My eyes are getting misty, damn.

Enjoy the original version of "Way Back Into Love" by Hugh Grant & Haley Bennet.

Moonlight In The City

2007-12-22T11:29:00.000+08:00

I've always liked Mavis Hee's Moonlight In The City.

Her ethereal voice really conveyed the regret and longing of lost lovers.

But it never really blew me away till last night, when I came across this music video.

Any song/video that can make me cry deserves a space here.
Kudos to Kinetic-core for sharing this mind-blowing work.

Enjoy.

I Apologise (2 Years Too Late)

2007-12-11T23:54:00.000+08:00

When I was under the employment of a US MNC (one of the biggest one in the world), I got to know a host of interesting people, my seniors from Thailand, Philippines and Malaysia who were ever willing to teach me the tools of the trade.

One of the people sharing the same office was a Field Service Engineer who was from another department. Let me call him C.

C was a quiet guy, and kind of shy. Yet he would be happy to chat whenever I walked past his cubicle.

He also dressed in a funny manner, wearing shirts instead of polo t-shirts that other engineers were wont to wear. His shirt would have charming floral patterns at the edge, sort of like those you'd see local big shots wear to community functions.

The draughtsman remarked one day, "This C always dresses like a Datuk's son."

I nudged him, "Don't say that C dresses like an uncle leh, that's very unkind of you."

Draughtsman blinked at ne and laughed, "C is really a Datuk's son."

"No!"

"He is. His car has this crest, that's why he always covers it with the tarp."

Oops! So it was actually me saying C dressed like an uncle.

For those unfamiliar with this term, the "Datuk" or "Dato" is an honorary title given by the Malaysian state or federal leaders to outstanding citizens. Hong Kong drama serials are particularly fond of depicting Malaysian Datuks as arrogantly rich men being chaufered around in Rolls-Royce.

I'd like to apologise to C (even though it's unlikely he'll ever read this, or even if he does, he wouldn't know he IS C), for knowingly or unknowingly making fun of him. And not responding to his invitations for dinner.

For not having the patience to get to know him better.

Sorry.

Birthday

2007-12-11T23:12:00.000+08:00

My birthday arrived and left without much fanfare this year.

Which is exactly the way I like it.

Coincidentally, the company's, or rather business group's, Dinner & Dance was being held on the same day. Drat.

I sweated buckets for days at the thought of my colleagues announcing it to the world and ensuring that I get dragged up to stage for an impromptu monkey-jig.

As Someone Higher Up would have it, I managed to landmyself a stomacache, just in the nick of time, 3 hours before I was scheduled to leave for the hotel.

Yipee... was I lucky or what? Or I could be psychic (as if) as I'd been wishing for something similar to happen.

My colleague, upon receiving my message notifying her of my high chance of absentism, yelled at me, "Stop your nonsense lah."

Oh my.

Instead of a ten-course Chinese dinner in a 5-star hotel, I sat down to dinner with my family. My birthday feast... two hard-boiled eggs stewed in Chinese herbs.

Life is good.

Maslow's Hierarchy - Which Level Am I At Now?

2007-12-06T23:52:00.000+08:00

Maslow's hierarchy of needs is one of the many ways I look at myself.

Where am I currently? Where was I ten years ago, and where will I be twenty years later?

Will I be climbing up the pyramid at the speed of a starving nail? Or slipping down the slippery slope as the middle-agers are wont to do in the fiercely competitive Red Dot, faster than the grease-slicked water luge?

I hope to be able to say that I am at level 4 now (green), but I've got only one foot in, and another foot hovering in the air.

I've skipped level 3 altogether? WTH?!

My Knees Are The Pits

2007-12-05T22:37:00.000+08:00

I'm getting old, I'll admit.

I was in Korea in late June for a few days due to urgent business escalations from the local folks. We were up to our armpits in boxes and pallets of cargo, checking through to see if any of our products were salvageable for customer shipment.

Pull container into warehouse (figuratively);
Pull out pallets;
Open boxes;
Take a sniff and do a quick check;

I was squatting up and getting up multiple times the first day we touched down. And stayed on until 2am the next morning. When I walked into the hotel, I was already walking stiff-legged, trying not to limp. My colleagues were ready to support me to my room.

A long soak in the hot bath didn't help. So I spent the remaining of my stay in Korean in a stiff-legged mode.

No siree, no squatting for Sylvie.

The one hour of torture where I sat through the traditional Korean meal (we were all sitting on the floor) nearly killed me.

That was almost as bad as the condom wrapper I found in the Korean guy's car when he picked us up at the hotel.

But that was another story altogether.

:P

Anonymity is Preferred, Thank You Very Much

2007-10-09T22:33:00.000+08:00

I've been reading some blogs quite regularly, and I do salute those who choose to put their real name and face onto their blog.

For me, this blog serves as an alternative avenue for thoughts/feelings I couldn't bear to share with those who know me. I have too much pride, and for me to put my face to these postings is really unbearable.

What if I got slammed for my non-existent wit, or dry sarcasm. Or worse, being pitied for my crush on Doraemon? The WORST will be if Doraemon stumbled upon this and knew I have the hots for him!

Argh.

Pride is a hard thing to swallow, and I'm not much good at swallowing anyway. Pills tend to come rushing back out of my mouth, and I really don't fancy "dead cats", which I regularly get at work.

So, yes, I'm choosing to remain anonymous.. to be known as Sylvie until the foreseeable future.

Or until I got over this affliction (aka silly crush).

Ca va!

Climb Further Up The Ivory Tower

2007-10-09T22:22:00.000+08:00

I attended a wedding dinner last weekend in KL. My secondary school classmate was getting married.

I had not seen her for the past 11 years when she left for Australia to study, and got her PhD 2 years ago, but she still looked the same; pretty, dainty and a bloody BRAINIAC.

The most poignant moment during the groom's speech was when he said, "... J***, you can't climbed further up the ivory tower..."

And I added silently to myself, ".. where else to go?"

Where else can I go? Cos I am only one step behind her...

* name changed to protect the innocent

My Yahoo! Photos Gone Kaput

2007-10-09T22:11:00.000+08:00

I know, I know, the migration process is still ongoing.

Meanwhile, I can't even log into Yahoo! Photos.. and my Flickr Pro (since when did I sign up for this Pro account??) has been threatening to expire on me in a week. And my Europe photos, I'll have to dig up the moldy disk I saved them into!

Argh.

Jeez, when the Big eats Small, there are debris all around.

And moi, is a professional s*** cleaner. I repeat, professional, ok!

Looks like it's high time to venture beyond Yahoooooooooooooooooooo

Hong Kong, Hong Kong

2007-06-10T17:37:00.000+08:00

2 weeks before starting work in my new position, I went to Hong Kong for a much needed break.
Why Hong Kong, you may ask, when there are so many other places I could visit?

Well, after Doraemon gave me the talkaround I just dragged the nearest friend who was also desperate for a break. More accurately a shopping-and-eating trip.

Hong Kong was our top choice as I wanted to shop till drop in Esprit factory outlets, and my friend wanted to pray at the Big Buddha at Lantau Island.

The clothes were fabulous, the food fantastic... the air, er, shockingly polluted. At Causeway Bay, I was coughing non-stop and constantly wiping my watery eyes.

The again, did I mention that the food was absolutely fantastic?!

I love Hong Kong...

The Prodigal Daughter Returns

2007-06-10T17:17:00.000+08:00

I'm back to where I was in 2003-2004, career-wise.

Then why did I leave in the first place? When one is young and opportunity knocks with the right terms, one jumps and asks immediately "When can I start?"

There I was, burning the midnight oil with my equally frustrated colleague, working with difficult customers & indifferent supporting teams when a headhunter called.

"Are you interested to pursue this opportunity?"

It's the 5th biggest company in the world (then) and I was pretty flattered that I was in their radar. Indeed, I was rather smug about it. So I left, determine to see more of the world and experience more.

Fast forward 6 months later, I was handing in my resignation later. I saw the path I was being steered to very much different from what I was promised and expected during my interview sessions. Well, no pint trying to file my sharp edges to fit into a neat, nice hole.

Then I was hired to ramp up a major operation with a mobile phone manufacturer. This job took the heaviest toll on me, within the first 3months of production ramp, I'd lost 3 kg and was hoisting up my jeans at work. I worked 14 hours daily for the first 3 months and suffered from chronic gastric pains.

But I would not have traded this experience for anything. This was where I met Doraemon, where I discover how tough and persevering I could and can be. This was the place where I found my true value, when my pay increased by 30% from the previous year.

If I had not made any jump, I doubt I could be drawing the same salary as I am currently doing, unless I was rated "indispensable" by my bosses and given a raise of 10% annually. Then again, that's very unlikely. Being such a huge MNC, it's mired in countless red-tapes & guidelines.

So it's a circle after all, my leaving and coming back.

I see this as a way of gaining experience & exposure, sort of like what the rich kids would do before helming their father's company.

After all, how could you make your bosses appreciate your effectiveness if you are always there putting out fires even before they catch a whiff of the smoke?

:)

Where Do You Want To Go?

2007-04-14T23:15:00.000+08:00

"Let's go to Hong Kong! You can bring me around the good makan places."

I was already rubbing my hands in glee, imagining myself chomping down the famous YungKee roasted goose, and the marvelous dim sum. And cafe valencia in Starbucks!

"Erm, where else you want to go?"

An open-ended question. Boy, could I answer him well enough.

"A lot of places. Santorini for one!"

"Too far. Somewhere regional lar."

"Hong Kong lor. Bangkok is OK too."

"You like Bangkok so much?"

"Cos I can eat a lot of cheap and good Japanese food, and walk around."

"Stock market is not doing so well. Pick somewhere nearer."

I frowned. What a spoilsport, I didn't ask that he paid for my share.

"Bangkok is near enough, " I told him.

"What about Bintan or Batam?"

Er... "And do what there?"

"Relax in the resort. Sleep and rejuvenate yourself."

How would I put in politely: that I think it would be impossible to just "sleep" in the room with him, anything above the 8 hours of REM would be a trial. These are couple places, for godsake.

And since we're at that ambiguous are-we-couple-friend-or-what stage, it's better not to muddy up the water any further.

"I prefer to go walk around, take in the local sights. Unless you want to go Genting or KL?"

"Genting is too far for a drive and the bus journey is too long, KL is too confusing to drive in."

Wait a minute, didn't he offer to let me drive his car to KL a few months back?

"Sigh.. you can't go on leave with me, can you?"

"The problem is, I don't know when I can take off. It's the RFQ I'm working on..."

I pouted for a few hours after that. Why made me go through a list of places when he could not make it in the first place?!

I really wished there was a BIG longkang nearby. Or a really tall building I could kick him off.

Bleargh

2007-04-14T23:07:00.000+08:00

All these mixed signals are driving me crazy.

Is he or is he not attached?

Several ex-colleagues whom I am still chatting with told me that he has a girlfriend.

One bumped into them while shopping but the girl walked away when she approached them.

Another was told that he has known this girl for 3 years, no more heady first-love feelings anymore.

But when I asked him point-blank, he denied it. He said they misunderstood him.

I feel like pushing him into the blardy longkang!

Weekend at Chattuchak

2007-03-21T13:51:00.000+08:00

I have a love-hate relationship with shopping.

While most of my female friends can shop till they drop with armloads of bags, most of the time I will be the only one going home without the spoils of "war".

Take my last trip to Bangkok, where I bunked with a friend who was there on business trip. With another friend who was working in Bangkok then, the few of us trooped to the famed weekend market at Chattuchak.

It was sweltering, with our clothes plastered to our sweaty bodies AND scurrying through narrow, endlessly cramped alleys, my shopping mood was shot to hell.

But not my friend. Every few minutes, she could find things that she liked and collected one plastic bag after another, until things got too heavy and we ended up splitting her loot among the few of us.

I think my friend hauled 5kg of goods back to the hotel.

I managed to get only 2 t-shirts from the dreadful 5 hours. And they were too tight to be comfortable.

What Now?

2007-01-22T00:19:00.000+08:00

The fact that I am writing this on a Monday morning bugs me to no end.

The show I just watched on the TV disturbed me, its title was "Yesterday Once More". It told of a couple who loved each other so much that the husband hatched an elaborate scheme to keep his wife from knowing that he was dying/dead from a terminal disease.

It was supposed to be a romantic comedy, yet I've mopped up my leaking eyes countless times and ended up with a punch-drunk look. My expensive eye cream is useless.

Jeez, is there even such thing as love?

There must be, the Hong Kong movie industry is half sustaining itself on this concept.

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

"So, what now?" My friend asked.

Sigh, I wish I knew the answer.

"How are things between the two of you?"

I shrugged. "We're friends."

My friend knew me well and long enough to read into my response.

"Hmm, he slow or what?"

Maybe to him I'm just a friend.

"Well, it's clear to you he's more than that. You're always defending and helping him."

Sigh, I hung my head. Because I don't want to mistake friendship for something more, and leave nothing for us in the end.

"But surely there are signs from him, right?"

I think he thinks of me as a loyal sidekick.

"Sidekick my ass. He trusts you, right?"

Yup, enough to offer to let me drive his brand new car into Malaysia even though he knows I've not driven in more than 10 years. Although I haven't mustered enough nerve to do it yet.

"See?! See?! This guy I'm going out with, he asks me to close his car door with ONE finger. A gentle push. Don't even talk about letting me drive his precious baby."

Err, your friend is weird lor.

"Hei, surely there must be other stuff that you can tell whether he likes you or not."

Well, he belives that I won't treat him in a funny manner.

"Like how funny?"

A colleague showed me a BMW catalogue on his desk. I flipped through and pasted a Post-It note on a page showing a coupe, saying I wanted it. When he found the note, he accused my colleague of playing with his things. When she said it was me, he said "Sylvie won't treat me like that, it must be you". Ha ha ha.

"You are both weird. Suitable for each other."

Yes, we are, aren't we. I must have killed him or done something horrible in my previous life. Now karma is working on me, like I owe him big time.

"Ha ha, I've always thought love is a form of karma."

Ha ha ha. To think I passed on the rich Datuk's son. THAT is karma.

"Hey, we Sagittarians may be sarcastic, fun and enjoy the good stuff in life, but we are also not materialistic."

Make that die-hard romantics as well.

So, what now?

We've Only Just Begun

2007-01-22T00:09:00.000+08:00

A friend has returned from her Bangkok posting to KL to start her own business.

Another has just celebrated her 1st anniversary with her husband in Melbourne, after dating for 10 years.

Two other close friends have gotten married and moved away from the hometown.

Gosh, I miss them so much.

"We've only just begun to live..." I've always loved this song by the Carpenters for its wistful and melancholic lyrics.

Yet it described accurately our journeys in life at the age of 30.

When is it going to be my turn?

And I Jumped... Again

2007-01-14T20:42:00.000+08:00

My friend used to drag me to movies, particularly spine-chilling ones. And I would be whining and pouting before we entered the darkened hall with family-size combo, 2 tall Cokes and a box of popcorn.

"Well, who would want to pay money to be scared?" I whined, "I'll have nightmares for weeks."

"Well, for the past 3 weeks, you've dragged me to every silly comedy, or cartons that you can find," she stated calmly. "So, now it's my turn to choose the movie."

Deciding that opposition was useless (kinda like Spore, ha ha), I kept quiet and looked at her soulfully.

She was merciless. "Until you can say you're watching a horror movie with your boyfriend, you're watching horror movies with me."

"I'll have cramped hands," I tried.

She dragged me along. She paid for the tickets, drinks and popcorn.

The movie started, and I put up my hands an inch from my face, peering at the screen through the tiny slits between fingers.

(That's how I get cramped hands from watching horror movies, my hands would be fixed in that position for 90 minutes at least.)

The show proved quite tame (Haunted Castle), and I lowered my hands slightly.

Big, big silly mistake.

A transparent ghost oozing blood jumped out at the screen. The split second it did, I jerked in my seat, causing evil friend and those sitting around us to have quite a start. Popcorn showered within 1 metre of my hand.

Damn, no place to hide as people turned around and gigled. My friend was brushing popcorn off her hair and laughing at me.

S***. Lost 1/2 bucket of popcorn already. And it was only 15 minutes into the show.

That's why my friend liked to watch horror movies with me, I gave the movie extra kick. Gave her bigger scares than the movie itself.

My friend is evil. Just kill me already.

And I Jumped

2007-01-14T18:17:00.000+08:00

I jump... at the slightest sounds or sights that I catch from the corner of my eyes.

Hell, I also jump when things happen right in front of my eyes.

Imagine this, you (imagine Doraemon) are driving a colleague (imagine me) to get some bird nests and chicken broth (we are fabulous colleagues, just need the right occasion to demonstrate it) before driving to the hospital. We even left the office early for this particular mission.

Anyway getting back to the subject proper...

The radio was playing some maudlin sentimental songs about love (it was close to 14th February, after all).

Doraemon turned on the thing-that-caused-soapy-water-to-squirt-from-cartop-onto-windshield and I jumped 3 inches off the seat, next to him. I think a faint "eep" came out.

"What? What's wrong?!"

I was mortified, and couldn't stop laughing, clutching at my pounding heart. "The water, it was aiming right at my eyes!"

"Jeez, you gave me a bloody scare! I just wanted to clean the windshield."

I was still snuffling/gigling in horror.

15 minutes later, after his blood pressure went down to the normal rates (ha ha..), he turned to look at me.

"I'm turning on the water again. Don't scare me like that anymore."

It's Almost V-Day

2007-01-14T17:55:00.000+08:00

The few days leading to 14th February 2006, I kept hearing the uZap advertisement on the radio.

Something to the line "... want your other half to be as slim/svelte as (celebrity name), get this for the woman in your life.."

When Doraemon drove us to the NUH to visit a colleague who just had an operation, the ad came on air again.

I chuckled. "Ha ha, don't ever get it for your girlfriend, or you'll be dog meat."

Doraemon smiled. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"Well, not for your mom or sis or friends too. Unless they specifically asked for it."

He was puzzled. Man...

"Why not?"

I turned to look at him in indignant righteousness. "Cos you'll be saying they need it. That they're fat. It's BAD for you."

(Not that I was hinting anything at that time. Or that I needed uZap, cos I was already wearing Polo Jeans Kids then...)

He laughed at that.

"And don't get appliances like kettle, blender or vacumn cleaner." Boy, was I on the roll that day.

"Why not?"

"Cos you'll be telling them they should stay at home and just make up the house. It's crazy to give a woman such things. UNLESS SHE ASKED FOR IT EXPLICITLY."

Doraemon was quiet for a while. "So hard to get a woman a gift..."

"Well, get her something fanciful or special, don't have to be expensive. Special."

He nodded, deep in thought.

"Of course, diamonds ALWAYS work, he he.."

(Women everywhere should thank me for educating another clueless male.)

"For 2M I want a BMW3.."

2007-01-14T16:57:00.000+08:00

Give somebody a yard, he'll want a mile..

That's how bad Doraemon is with me... he's not above haggling and shameless requests for fancy toys; the latest was a BMW3.

What, you think Sylvie mass prints the greenbacks is it?

First he bargained the Ipod to measly $250. I gave in cos it was molding away in the drawer anyway and the prices had dropped since I got it. I'd have some cash on hand in return for the brick.

Then to sweeten the deal (I was sulking because of the Ipod deal), he gave me a Bluetooth headset.

As a birthday present. 3 weeks after the day.

Which he got FOC in an underhanded way (I know of all his underhanded ways, since I helped out a bit, ha ha).

But the unit was deader than a doornail; even when fully charged after 8 hours, it was still undetectable.

On MSN Messenger:
--------------------------------------------

Me (yelling): "You gave me Invisible Bluetooth!"
Doraemon: "Did you charge? Did you turn it on?"
Me: "Whaddaya think I'm stupid?"

(He was smart enough not to answer that question.)

Doraemon: "I'm more inclined to think you're not familiar with it."
Me: "I want to RMA it. And this gift doesn't count."
Doraemon: "Hey, it counts."
Me: "Doesn't work. Invisible things dun count for me."
Doraemon: *sigh*

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

When I said I got him something funny (a notebook brush - FOC)
for Christmas, he said "no need".

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

Me: "Really? Good!"
Doraemon: "I meant, if it's gonna be a cheap gift, no need"
Me: "Christmas is more fun when you receive cheap & fun gifts, what?!."
Doraemon: "Dowan."
Me: "OK lah, then your birthday lah. What do you want for your birthday? We can go eat at this super expensive restaurant (name changed to protect the innocents)."
Doraemon: "I want a mobile phone :)"
Me *spluttering*: "What?"
Doraemon: "N80 Internet Edition. Hmm, better still, make it N95."
Me: "Hey, N95 is not even in the market yet!"
Doraemon: "It's OK, you can give me Nokia vouchers."
Me: "Well if it's for my bf (I don't have one) it's not an issue lah..."
Doraemon: "..."

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

So the poor churchmouse (Sylvie) popped into a MoneyMaking Den (Singapore Pools outlet) when she happened to pass it by several days later. Bought a lottery ticket that promised $2M as top prize. With 2M, sure, N95 wouldn't be a problem... I'd even get a condo for myself.

*evil laughter*

One week later:

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

Me: "No N95 for you. $2M hope dashed.."
Doraemon: "For 2M, I want a BMW3..."
Me *spluttering, again*: "Oi, you turned super greedy at the top liao."
Doraemon: "Ha ha.."
Me: "You'll sell yourself into slavery for a BMW3?!"
Doraemon: "Hmm... what kind of slavery?"
Me: "Life-long..."
Doraemon: "Hmm..."

(Hey, if he could ask for a BMW, I also wanted something..)

Me: "Well what would you get me if you win 2M?"
Doraemon: "What do you want?"
Me: "A BMW6 series!"
Doraemon: "I'd be your driver then.."
Me: "Can? Can!"
Doraemon: "Replica..."
Me: "One that runs on road."
Doraemon: "Replica..."
Me: "Then I get some batteries for your BMW3 also lor.."
Doraemon: "Dun be like that leh..."

See what kind of a fiend I'm dealing with??

Too bad I like him.

New Friends Needed

2007-01-14T16:14:00.000+08:00

Or to be more accurate, new friends-who-won't-fly-kite/planes needed.

Here I was, surfing the web for amusing reads, waiting for a friend's call. I'd suggested a steamboat lunch today to ease the aching joints due to the cold.

Only that lunch time was long past and it was creeping to dinner time. And not a single peep from this friend-who-flies-greatest-kite.

When she finally logged to MSN, she told me she woke up late and was in fact working in the office.

Bleargh... I so need new friends.

The 12 Signs

2006-12-30T21:53:00.000+08:00

The Chinese have their 12 animals, the Westerners have their own 12 celestial signs.

I'm talking about horoscope, which according to Merriam-Webster is "... a diagram of the relative positions of planets and signs of the zodiac at a specific time (as at one's birth) for use by astrologers in inferring individual character and personality traits and in foretelling events of a person's life..."

I have friends who swear by their daily horoscope readings, and will not make a move without consulting the horoscope page, be it for business or romantic issues.

I'm not a cynical person, and I do believe in some of the traits as detailed by my horoscope (I'm a Sagittarius, by the way). But should we let this amorphous field of study to rule our lives?

We can make full use of the information and choose to employ them to our advantages. But to reject someone based on the flimsy reason of "our horoscopes don't match" leave a bitter feeling in my mouth. When I got this remark from a very good friend "... Tigers and Dragons don't match, they're too competitive and strong for each other...", I was flabbergasted to say the least.

Shouldn't we make and choose friends and mates based on their individualistic traits, strengths and weaknesses?

I will not want to go around asking people for their birth data. Instead I will listen and observe with an open mind and a belief that every one is intrinsically a good person. And everyone is worth knowing beyond their date of birth.

My Very Own Ninja Text

2006-10-03T18:17:00.000+08:00

I saw this on Lancerlord's, thought it would be cool (sic: cute) to put it on my blog, right at the bottom of the page (footer).

Then I saw how the little Ninja wrote "B", and I cracked up. Heehee..

This is too good to keep to myself, so go get your own Ninja text.

An Offer I Could Not Accept

2006-09-06T15:43:00.000+08:00

A few weeks ago, after being clued in by my fabulous ex-colleagues about an opening in a MNC that happens to work for my previous company (such convoluted relationships :-P), I almost got a job offer.

Only, I chose not to pursue and negotiate for the job.

OK, let me tell you something about the work I used to do for my previous company: it is one of the biggest corporations in the industry, if not in the world. When you work for such a company which is constantly being courted by partners, suppliers, contractors and subcontractors, you hold much power in your tiny hands.

* cue evil laughter *

Not that I was evil back then (I was the spirit of niceness, my colleagues used to tell me, much to my disgust), but I did my part in making our subcons/suppliers work their collective butts off to meet our targets and expectations.

And I expected that if I make the career switch to the subcons' camp, I would have been welcomed because of my insider's knowledge and also, well, payback time.

The 1st subcon company I joined offered me a job in the within the hour of the interview session, without looking at my resume and agreed to pay me the equivalent of a senior ranking's salary in my previous company. Alas, they treated me so well that I was almost in charge of the operations, more of a manager than just an engineer but without the load of people management.

Anyway, back to this latest job offer. It was to be in a port at Johor, Malaysia. Port of Tanjung Pelepas (PTP), to be exact, for a new production place they are ramping up.

I am residing in Singapore, and believe it when I say that Tuas is the furthest I've worked in and I will work in. The 2-hour journey on public transportation is no laughing matter.

The whole idea of commuting daily from centre of Singapore to PTP is off-putting, not to mention that within a few months, I'd need to fork out another RM600 for a brand new passport.

Did the company offer:

a means of transportation? Car, bus, transport claims, etc?
overtime allowances? I foresee 18-hour workdays, 7 days a week, especially for the first few months of operations. I've paid my dues in my first job, where I worked on night shifts and public holidays. I'm not doing all these again without some form of compensations.
fully armed bodyguards?? We're talking abouth Johor, not exactly the safest town around. My friend just had his car windscreen shattered in a parking spot next to a major road in the broad daylight. With a horde of people watching and doing nothing but waiting for his return so that they can tell him "someone smashed your glass in". What, they think he is blind?

Nope, to all points raised above.

Needless to say, I wasn't desperate enough to take up any job offer that comes with crappy benefits.

A Most Insincere Almost-Proposal

2006-09-05T21:52:00.000+08:00

My friend, who is living the expatriate life in Bangkok confided recently that she got an almost-proposal.

A what?

An almost-proposal is what I defined as a what-if-I-propose-to-you-with-a-diamond-ring proposal, from a man who is standing/sitting/kneeling more than 1 meter away.

In my friend's case, he said it through MSN, and in a different time zone in the USA, thousands of miles away.

WTF.

If he's serious/sincere, he'll jolly well get his butt of his chair, fly over and ask to HER FACE the question.

If I ever get such a question without even being in the same room as the lucky guy, I'll be popping his chops, literally and figuratively.

:-)

The New Service Byword

2006-08-20T14:30:00.000+08:00

In a few more weeks, let us welcome the IMF big guns with the new service byword I recently discovered: chee**e

WTF is wrong with the service people in Singapore, anyway?

Do they get constipation and have their intestines clogged up with such toxic waste that I need to hear TWO bloody sales assistant said the new byword in clearly enunciated Hokkien curses? In a span of less than a single minute?!

Wake up, you bloody SAs manning the perfume counters in Isetan Scotts.

First you talk on your handphone when customers are standing right in front of you. Said customers are not midgets or invisible.

Then you have the temerity to go on yakking and saying the shockingly crude and nasty swear word, knowing bloody well customers are not deaf and will recognize the almost-universal swear word.

Have some respect for other people in the planet (especially your mothers) if not yourself.

* Tight slap *
* Sack their collective sorry asses *

The Malaysian Look & Accent

2006-08-08T14:59:00.000+08:00

My friends and colleagues were frequently surprised when I told them I'm not a Singaporean.

"You're not?!" With bug eye surprise and open mouth.

"Nope. I'm a Malaysian."

"But you don't look like a Malaysian. And you don't have the accent."

"Hmm... is there a Malaysian look? And what accent are you referring to?"

They'd look at each other and try to be diplomatic.

"Well, you dress like us. The Malaysians normally dress differently. You speak Mandarin like us too."

Frankly I was and am still surprised that most people think that they can spot a Malaysian a mile away, from the way they're dressed and their manner of speech.

Are all Malaysians dowdy dressers? Do they go gambolling around Orchard Road in huge T-shirts and baggy jeans? Do they speak in stilted Mandarin?

I think it's a bit unfair to pigeon hole people with all these stereotypes. Just because a minority few do spot these traits, it would be unjust to paint all with such a broad brush.

What would the Singaporeans say if Malaysians classify them as "high maintenance and kiasu"?

They'd be braying for blood!

No BOMB

2006-08-08T14:46:00.000+08:00

One of my planners came up to me with a weird face.

"Er... I thought the new night Production Supervisor has experience doing what we're doing?" he asked.

The said Production Supervisor had just joined our team recently, after we asked the previous one to leave due to bad performance.

"Yeah... I'm told he was an Inventory Controller for about 7 years in the company. Why?"

Planner led me to a pallet of cartons, with stretch film wrapped around them to keep them from toppling over.

He pointed at an A4-size paper pasted on the mound, spotting only two words: NO BOMB

"You can call off the cops or the bomb squad now. We need to teach our supervisor how to spell."

We doubled up laughing. When we were done, we called the Program Manager down for a lark.

He suggested we turn our supervisor loose in Changi Airport with his printout.

****************

For the uninitiated, the correct term to be used is BOM, which stands for Bill of Material.

Sold: A Slice of My Childhood

2006-08-07T21:37:00.000+08:00

I'd been dreading it, yet it was inevitable from the word go.

My home in Malaysia had been sold. We need to handover to the buyer by end of Aug 2006.

It was bittersweet when my parents told us that they had received an offer for the house. They could continue living in the house for a few more years to go, but since my siblings and I are firmly rooted in Singapore, it'd be more practical for them to uproot and join us here.

Yet the sadness lingers... I would not be able to stay in the place where I've grown up in. Where I had spent many mornings climbing the 6-foot high gate when I encountered the locked padlock, with the keys inside the locked house. Other kids climbed trees in Malaysia, I climbed gates and was quite good at it.

I'd miss the huge lawn where we used to play badminton; it was large enough to allow singles games. It was also there where I spotted golf-size bruises on my shin practicing hockey with my elder sister.

Most of all, I'd miss sitting on the grass and enjoying the evening breeze under the shady bougainvillea trees with riotous colors.

Sold. Gone.

Dumb and Dumber

2006-08-06T16:11:00.000+08:00

When I was Secondary 3 in Malaysia, I joined a Mensa testing group.

In fact, most of the Secondary students joined the test.

The results: I was tested to have an IQ of 138, which propelled me to top percentile of the population.

Hurray. But wait a minute.

The same test showed that 3 of my classmates scored perfectly in the test, which like made them to be Albert Einsteins. And many of us were said to be in the top percentile.

3 Alberts Einsteins in a single school? What gives?

My disbelief got the better of me and I chucked the letter of invitation to join Mensa, and the results sheet into the dustbin.

Today, I feel stupid.

After graduating as one of the top students in my cohort and a Master degree to boot, I couldn't answer correctly about 50% of the Mensa workout.

Me, getting dumb and dumber in the workforce. Arghh...

I Am Jobless

2006-08-01T23:51:00.000+08:00

There, I've said it.

I've been saying the phrase for the past month. With a sardonic twist, and sometimes with a bit of variety:

I'm taking a looooooooooong break after working like a crazed monkey for the past year;
I'm one of the statistics. Which one? Oh, the unemployment statistics;
Heck, it's time to leave the place anyway.

I sure hope I won't be saying these words much longer.

Unemployment sure crimps the lifestyle, when one cannot simply splurge on say... a LV bag, or an impromptu trip to Hong Kong; especially not after an Eastern Europe trip with the family, and just 2 weeks ago, a short trip in Bangkok where I went on a Japanese food rampage.

* Sulk *

My Story

2006-07-28T14:57:00.000+08:00

I've always been told that I am good at writing stories. That I should try writing as a career.

Before I take that extraordinary leap of faith, let's just start the ball rolling with a simple story.

Mine.

Thus I've created a story-blog just for this purpose.

Because at the ripe age of 29, I think I've met the person I'd like to grow old with. Someone with whom I feel the connection is strong enough to grow on.

I've nicknamed him Doraemon, as I feel that if things do not work out the way I wish, he should be left anonymous to live his life.

You can also click on the My Story link on the right side bar of this blog. It'll bring you directly to the story-blog.

Have fun reading & wish me luck.

26 June 2006

2006-07-25T23:30:00.000+08:00

26 June 2006... I had thought this would be the day I leave the world, never mind the what the astrologer had told me that I would live till 77 years old.

I was on the way back to Singapore, having spent the previous 10 days in Eastern Europe. We flew from Berlin, in the midst of the World Cup revelry, via Doha, Qatar.

Over the Indian Ocean, I had thought that the plane would go down.

Turbulence had hit us almost from the time we left the airport. The seat belt sign was turned on throughout the flight and the air stewardesses were buckled down in their seats, leaving the aisles deserted.

For more than 3 hours, we endured stomach-churning drops. My mom, seated beside me, threw up more than 5 times.

It was during this hair-raising journey that I really confronted my mortality. That I could die and no one in Singapore or Malaysia would know about it until a few days later. My whole family had gone on the trip, and we had not left our flight details with anyone.

With the nervous chatter of passengers around me, I thought of my life so far and I was depressed.

I had not bought any travel insurance since (ha ha) I sort of believed that I would live till the old age of 77. No one would be able to collect compensation from my death as I had not named any beneficiaries for my CPF monies.

But what really saddened me was that no one would grieve for me should the plane go down that day. Oh, I have some really close friends whom I know cherish our friendship enough to shed tears for me and keep me in their memories.

But there would not be any man who would break down in tears and imagine that he could no longer carry on without me by his side.

There would be no one waiting for my plane to land and engulf me in a warm embrace.

No one to share my travel tales. No one to plan future trips with. No one to charm an LV bag from.

There had been no one to whom I said those 3 words, whom had cared enough to prompt me to say them.

And it broke my heart that I had isolated myself so much that I had been alone for most of my life, even when I was surrounded by family and friends.

I have come to care for some men; although nothing more serious developed from those friendships, these are the kind of man that I would like to spend the rest of my life and grow old with: gentlemanly, funny and protective.

Gentlemanly enough to hold doors open for me. Secure enough in his masculinity not to be threatened by my various degrees.

Has a kooky sense of humor and accepts that I laugh at anything and everything, including myself or the man on the pavement who has just slipped on a banana skin. Cracks jokes and laughs with me at small, silly things like ghost stories. Smiles and doesn't talk to me in the morning until I have my cup of coffee. Knows that a Sagittarian is a clumsy creature even though they look like a million bucks to keep a good grip on my hand (Sagittarians will find every crack on the pavement and bump on the road and stumble over them).

Protects me from threats. Gets angry enough when I am upset and close to tears to upbraid the problem makers. Warns me not to wander in street alleys unaccompanied in Bangkok.

I want so much to say those words, to look forward to sharing the day with someone who cares. I promise to cook chili crab for him, as long as he cuts & cleans the crabs...

What Does Love Look Like

2006-07-25T15:50:00.000+08:00

I saw this question:

"I'd like to know the answer to the age old question "If love is blind, deaf, mute, insane, stupid, and lame, what does it look like?" I'd like to know so I can turn and run the other way."

Ha ha... so true. Excuse me while I hunt for my running shoes...

My Things!

2006-07-25T14:33:00.000+08:00

End of June, the team was packing up their personal items. Since the project had been terminated, there were no more reasons for staying back in the company.

I've always been a no-toys person since fluffy toys make my nose go haywire. So I had only two bags of stuff to cart home.

Doraemon: You can leave your things in my car. I'll send them to your place later.
Me: *pleasantly surprised* Oh, ok then.

Later in the evening:

Doraemon: Er, I'm not going home straight, so I'll have to pass your things to you later.
Me: No problem. Just gimme a call when you plan to do that.

One week later on SMS:

Me: If something gooey and smell of rum flow out, you better throw those away.
Doraemon: * no response *

Mid July on MSN:

Me: Eh, have you thrown out the chocolates? They might stink up your car.
Doraemon: Err... Ate them liao.
Me: Huh?
Doraemon: I was hungry, then remembered I have some food in the car. So I ate them.
Me: Oh.... OK, as long as they're not wasted.
Doraemon: * no response *

On a friend's birthday dinner 20th July:

Friend: So have you gotten your stuff back from Doraemon?
Me: Nope.
Friend: Aiyah, no hope lah. The fat pig probably ate all your food.
Me: Hei, he's your boss leh, how can you still call him "pig"?
Friend: Aiyah, ex-boss now. Maybe even watched your DVDs as well.
Me: Hmm...

Later the same evening

Friend: Hey, you don't plan to return her stuff meh? Ate all her chocolates is it?
Doraemon: Not bad leh, so many different kinds of food inside the bags.
Doraemon: Chocolates, marshmallows, cookies... Who bought the marshmallows, by the way?
Friend: Wa lau, you eat everything?? She * pointed at me * bought all those stuff.
Me: * speechless *
Friend: So now there's no food in the bag?? You used her tissues also, I bet?
Doraemon: Yeah, I need one for my new office.
Doraemon: The blue one, since the other pack is already opened... and it's PINK.
Me: Alamak, my tissues too?
Friend: Wa lau, you pig. You better send her home tonight and return all her stuff.
Doraemon: Heh. I'm not going home straight tonight.
Me: Ngo mou ngan tai (I no-eye-see in Cantonese)

Later that night on MSN:

Me: You can have everything in the bags except the Tupperware containers.
Doraemon: Ha ha... I'll return your things lah.
Doraemon: I ate those cos I dun want them to turn bad, cos my car in the sun a lot.
Me: It's OK, as long as no wastage lor.
Me: But ignore what she said about replacing the chocolates. Normally I don't eat them.
Doraemon: I dunno where she got the idea. Never planned to replace the chocolates...
Me: Wah....
Doraemon: Ha ha... I meant I know you don't eat chocolates. I dun mind giving you treats...
Doraemon: But won't buy you chocolates lor.
Me: If you do, I'll kick you.

Tally of items consumed by Doraemon:

3 pack of plum-in-rum chocolates from Germany ("taste like that only lor......")
2 big packs of orange and apple marshmallows ("the marshmallows are quite nice leh...")
5 packs of wheat-and-raisins cookies
3 packs of chewing gum from Hong Kong

Items to be returned to moi:

2 Tupperware containers
1 liter plastic bottle
1 DVD set of Hayao Miyazaki anime movies
1 stainless steel teaspoon
1 pack of tissue paper (opened... and PINK)

The last 2 items may be in danger of being consumed by Doraemon, too. Mou ngan tai anymore.

Dislaimer: Names have been changed to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent parties involved.

You Light Up My Life

2006-07-09T13:53:00.000+08:00

I love the various chandeliers/lights I saw in old churches & cathedral in Eastern Europe.

But I love this the best; for its simplicity and uniqueness.

You light up my life, in many simple & glorious ways.

After A Good Sleep

2006-07-05T15:20:00.000+08:00

It's a wonder what a good bout of sleep could do...

- erases the panda rings around the eyes
- relieves the various aches and soreness I sustained from a yoga class
- lessen my pique with him
- lifted my spirit as Italy scored 2-0 against German (he supports Italy)

In the bright day, my pique last night (after trying to stay up for 22 hours) was pretty childish.

I've expected too much from someone whom have always counted on me as a good friend & supportive colleague in the hellish project.

I've too much pride to hanker after someone who could not see us as more than good friends.

So that's what we will be, just friends.

I shall not mistake friendship for anything more.

I Wouldn't

2006-07-05T01:24:00.000+08:00

I would not

... mistake friendship for love.
... like taciturn men anymore
... sniffle thinking about aforementioned men
... initiate SMS/online chats with aforementioned men
... wait for their replies
... stinge on myself

I would

... go to yoga class 3 times a week
... tone my body
... enjoy (2)
... eat healthy food
... spend more time with my family & girlfriends
... allocate 10% of my time for male acquaintances
... get on with my life
... treat myself better

*sniff*

Cursed

2006-07-05T00:36:00.001+08:00

I am jinxed.

I have so many male acquaintances, most have become good friends.

And I happen to have the supreme bad luck of liking (more than friends) two guys who have the absolute capability to annoy me. By ignoring me. Won't reply to my messages or email.... said nothing on the online chat tool.

Me, a masochist for liking bloody taciturn men, when I could have married rich and retired from the rat race.

So I'm ignoring him.

*sigh*

Every Morning

2006-05-27T16:07:00.000+08:00

Every morning, I trudge to the bus stop at 6am.

I feel like a school kid again, surrounded by various uniforms on the way up the bus steps.

I reach the office at the ungodly hour of 7.30am.

Massage my neck that has a developed a persistent crick from sleeping at a weird angle on the bus. Sleepwalk to the freezing office.

Open the pedestal to take out my notebook and boot it up.

Dump bag into pedestal.

Make a mug of Nescafe 3-in-1.

More colleagues troop in. I snooze with eyes fixed on the notebook screen.

MS Outlook automatically moving my mails to specified folders.

8.30am - my seat jerk, I jump & glared at my manager walking in behind my cubicle. He grins.

I kick him across the cubicle divider. He laughs on the MSN Messenger.

Jeez... I get a kick on my seat every morning to jump start my day.

There has better be good reasons why I put up with all this...

Dude, Where's My IC?

2006-05-12T16:04:00.000+08:00

Singapore, although a tiny dot on the world map, is big on campaigns, from subjects on spitting, courtesy to speak Mandarin instead of dialects.

The latest to hit the sunshine island is GEMS, which stands for Go the Extra Mile for Service, a national movement that aims to improve service levels.

To me, courtesy should be bred through character building (not bandied about on television, and newspapers) and for lifetimes (not specifically for the Great Singapore Sale period).

Well intentioned though the powers to be, the very fact that courtesy should be campaigned for smack of the Third World mentality Singapore residents have.

I've had my share of bad service encounters to populate another blog, but I prefer to think that I'm gracious enough to focus on other pleasant things (such as food & romance) and let a small population of Singapore to suffer the umbrage from unhappy shoppers/customers.

However, I draw the line at unrepentant stuck up service staff.

Days of yore before I had my own PC and broadband, I was frequenting an Internet gaming outlet, right smack in the middle of Orchard Road. I don't like to name names but this joint is in Orchard Cineleisure.

It was the practice to hand over the IC/school ID/driving license while the patron was surfing/gaming, lest some less than upright people tried to sneak off without paying.

Having graduated ages ago and without a driving license, I had to hand in my IC, and collect it after making the payment for use of their facilities.

One day, the staff was looking at me in a funny way AFTER I paid her and asked for my IC.

A sinking sensation settled in my stomach when she hemmed and hawed.

"Don't tell me you lost my IC," I said.

"Er..."

I was flabbergasted. I thought such travesty happen only in some backward seedy joints, not this high tech gaming outlet.

It turned out that my IC was given away to someone whom had the similar blue IC.

"Well, did she looked like my mirror image?"

"Actually she didn't look like the person in the photo." She smiled at me.

I was shocked. "And you still handed my IC over to someone who didn't look like the IC owner. Did she say she was in my station?"

"Er, no."

I was speechless.

"This happens all the time. Don't worry, she'll return your IC when she discovers it's not hers," she said blithely.

I was almost bursting my blood vessels with fury at this irresponsible "aw shuck" routine, and demanded to see the manager.

He was not in, only a senior staff will see me.

I've recreated to the best of my ability to recall, the conversation that transpired subsequently.

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

Senior staff: *brusque tone* What do you want?

(At this particularly gracious phrase, all my good intentions flew out the window.)

Furious customer (me): *equally brusque tone* My IC.

Senior staff conferred with junior staff. Junior staff hovered uncertainly behind him.

Senior staff: We'll return it when the other customer brings it back.
Sylvie: That is not a cat that will return home. Do you have the girl who took my IC's contact number?
Senior staff: No, we don't keep such records.
Sylvie: Then how would you know if she'll return here?
Senior staff: *patronizing tone* She's a regular customer, she'll return. This has happened before.

Some curious school boys had gathered at the counter, obviously trying to catch the conversation. I did not lower my voice, since I did nothing wrong. Except to patronize this joint.

Sylvie: Then how could you let it happen again if it's happened before?
Senior staff: *bored tone* A lot of students here took somebody's IC. They return it later.
Sylvie: Obviously there's something very wrong with the system & process here if such things are common. You should have learnt & corrected what was wrong. My identity could be stolen because of this.
Senior staff: *petulant tone* What do you want us to do?

Boy, I was impressed I did not smack him on the spot.

Sylvie: I will make a police report tomorrow if my IC is not returned.
Senior staff: Hmm
Sylvie: Until then I want you to write a note to acknowledge this incident. Anything happens, I hand the note to the police.
Senior staff: Sorry, we can't do that.
Sylvie: *eyes red* No, you can't write a note. But you definitely can give out ICs to the wrong owners.
Senior staff: ....
Sylvie: I'll write that note and you sign & acknowledge it.
Senior staff: ....

He handed a notebook. I made him write his name, IC number and stamped the company logo on the note for acknowledgement.

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

I managed to get back my IC the next day.

Needless to say, the outlet did not have me as a customer since then.

Oh, I said earlier that I don't name names. But what the heck, I'll make allowances for such a trying encounter:

E-Games Interactive Pte Ltd
8 Grange Road #03-03
Cathay Cineleisure Orchard
Singapore 239695
Tel: 68208833 Fax: 68208834

Do You Want To Be A Trophy or Hunter?

2006-05-12T14:39:00.000+08:00

"Do you want to be a trophy or hunter?"

My friend posed that question to me last week, when we met up with her two siblings in tow to catch M:i:III. After 2 hours of Ethan Hunt in glorious lighting, we adjourned to dinner.

3 pairs of laughing eyes met mine as I squirmed in my seat. The noisy restaurant faded into the background as I tried to come up with a glib answer.

"Trophy lah..."

Her older sister said: "No, no... you should be a hunter. Then you'd get whatever you want, elephant, tigers, buffalo... whatever you want."

I laughed.

"If you wanna be a trophy, you'd be waiting till your teeth drop. Singapore men just cannot make it lah... " chimed the younger brother. *

"Can I be both at the same time?" I asked them.

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

Which woman would not want to be wooed and pursued? Most of us like the feeling of being wanted, appreciated & cherished.

And in this age where women and men occupy the same rung of financial & economic powers, are we still a throwback to the Middle Ages when we profess our preference for the men to do the pursuing?

Of course I want to be pursued.

I like knowing that someone likes me enough to spend time with me and want to do it again & again.

I like the feeling I get when I'm asked "Have you eaten your lunch?", and "What do you want to eat today?" Although we were seldom alone during our lunch breaks, the decision of lunch venue was always up to me, and my colleagues have come to know it, too.

I enjoyed seeing an empty Tupperware container on my desk with a bright yellow Post It note stuck on it. "Mission accomplished" was written below my earlier "Help me to finish the cookies :)". He liked the pineapple tarts enough to finish them in one go... and appreciative enough to offer to wash the container when he saw it at the same location 2 days later.

We traded jokes and ghost tales: I told him how when I was watching a horror comedy, I got shocked so badly that I jumped and the popcorn in my hand showered down. I had lost half the popcorn in the first 15 minutes of the show. He told me how he once saw a skinny guy being possessed by something and had the strength to throw 5 grown men off.

We both laughed at my story of staying in a 5-star hotel for 2 weeks: the 1st week I was sleeping like a baby. The 2nd week, I turned on all the lights in the room, dresser and bathroom. I had turned on the TV as well, but images of Sadako crawling out of the screen plagued me so much that I had turned the TV off almost immediately.

The day when we were involved in an accident, he was fast in checking if we were injured, and tried to lift our gloomy spirits by making 4D jokes, although his own shoulder was in pain.

He trusts me enough to let me do my work in my own space, knowing that I wouldn't need or appreciate close supervision. He has one area of work that doesn't need constant checking & monitoring because he trusts my ability & knowledge.

He lets me claim reimbursement for taxi rides since taking public transportation would mean an arduous 2-hour journey for me, especially on weekends when the company bus does not operate for my area, while he insists on other employees to take the normal company buses.

He pouts when I forget his birthday, or when I am away on medical leave.

He cares, and that is enough for me.

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

I've found my hunter and I'm smart enough to know that in our current situation, he's putting his career on high priority. He has the brains & savvy to go far, and easy-going smile and offbeat sense of humor would definitely aid him.

Being in the same department poses some challenges for us to develop further. Would the management look at us in askance when we go for late lunches, or would we compromise the operations by placing too much trust in each other?

Although I report to the same manager as he is, we are managing different aspects of the operation. I was his unofficial backup when he's away from the office.

So am I the trophy? I hope to be.

And I am smart enough to know I have to play the part of the hunter sometimes, so that he would feel appreciated as well.

Well, pick up your gun and let's go hunting. I've sighted my prey.

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

* Disclaimer: the Singaporean men comment was not of the author's opinion, but that of a smart, smooth talking Malaysian alpha-male. My 'hunter' is a true blue Singaporean.

Little White Flower

2006-04-23T12:46:00.000+08:00

I tested my new Canon Ixus 6S at my garden, where there are several flowering bougainvellas to act as subject.

But the best picture turned out to be from a small kafir lime plant my mom had planted.

It's A Crabby Life

2006-04-23T12:29:00.000+08:00

I love crabs, particularly the whole process of eating them, where messy fingers encrusted with chili gravy dig for flakes of yummy flesh.

My ex-colleague decided to give me a treat by volunteering to cook chili crabs... yummy, too good to pass up, I volunteered to slice & dice the ginger, chili padi (tiny critters that set volcanoes exploding in the mouth) & garlic.

4 crabs for 5 hungry people... with only 2 people doing the cooking and 3 lazing about waiting to be fed (see what friends I have..)

The wok heated up, we tossed in the mountain of garlic, ginger and chili padi I had diligently chopped to tiny bits... and promptly ran from the kitchen... coughing, sneezing & choking from the chili fume.

Jeez.

The only male among us could not run away like a girl (ha ha)and manfully had to help to tackle the bubbling volcano in the wok, while the host wrapped a towel around her nostrils and mouth with tears running down her face.

The end result, tadah... presenting chili crabs more delicious than the one I had one week later in Northport, Port Klang.

My manager told me he wanted to eat my version of chili crab (particularly since I had terrible stomach ache the next day) and get MC. I said no problem, as long as he slaughters the crabs, clean them, chop up the chili padi and fry it.

Eastern Europe

2006-04-01T14:34:00.000+08:00

Finally, I am able to enjoy a holiday with my whole family. I'm going to Europe!!

Yup, the exotic Eastern Europe... where medieval castles stood and ghosts of WWII still linger...

Can't wait till June, when I'll be able to forget work for 11 glorious days and soak in the Europe air.

Now the challenge is keeping myself sane till then

Prague...here I come.

Some Greens on the Table

2006-04-01T14:20:00.000+08:00

I don't know what disturbs me more: the fact that fungus (or is it fungi?) is growing on the table (the side where the wood is left exposed); or that I am periodically cataloguing its growth (spread)?

Whatever it is, my colleagues said I shouldn't work so long hours anymore... haha.

IKEA has a lot of explaining to do.

The Beginning of the End

2006-02-18T23:21:00.000+08:00

I should not have been surprised when one of my colleagues told me that he had tendered his resignation to the Program Manager (PM) whom had done a marvelous job of keeping it from me.

What surprised me was that before he was injured, admitted to the hospital, operated on, and subsequently spent 50 days in unpaid medical leave, he had tried to resign 3 times, but had been persuaded to stay on.

3 times, in the 1.5 months he joined us before he performed a foolhardy DIY blister-puncture that landed him in the hospital with infection.

This is the beginning of the end, as I see more and more people leaving.

I dread the day when I'd be told to support production, when I am already the sole person in charge of engineering and quality for the project.

My PM is MSN'ing me everyday, to say he is bored and frustrated out of his mind, with the management's directions and demands, when he is not supported by them.

Sigh, I've promised him that I'd would not leave him in the lurch should I find a new job, but it seems as if an invisible race has started between us.

Who'll leave first?

Jelly Legs

2006-01-24T21:55:00.000+08:00

Yesterday just before lunch, my legs turned to jelly.

Not due to hunger but I believe it happens fairly common when one was in an accident involving 2 cars.

Four of us were happily planning our lunch ("can eat duck rice", "duck rice again?", "ok, non-duck rice food"), when we were about to turn right into the junction. A streak of silver flashed right from the corner of my eyes and before I knew it, my manager was muttering "shit, shit", there was a loud bang and the car skidded and wobbled.

After a very long 10 seconds of staring at a car that was suddenly TOO NEAR, too big, (I still remember how the other driver had looked at us in panic), the car stopped wobbling.

"Are you all right?" my manager was asking each of us. Too stunned to speak, we could only nod our head and stumbled out of the car with legs that had turned to jelly.

By then, a small crowd had gathered around to watch: 2 cars at 45 degrees angle, one with busted front, bumper and bonnet, the other had dented passenger door on its left.

We stood looking at the cars, trying nervously to cheer each other up, and saw the other car's passenger (pregnant) crying into the driver's arms.

Our car had slowed down in order to make a turn. If we had been traveling at higher speed, I'd shudder to think of what could have happened to the woman. Obviously she was thinking the same thing by the way she was clutching at the man.

It turned out that the other driver was in a hurry to send his sick son to the clinic. But in his haste, he made a massive mistake trying to overtake us on the right, when we were turning RIGHT.

Our car hit his, the force of the impact drove both cars to the incoming lane and onto the grassy curb. Luck was on our side when there was not many cars driving from another direction.

Does being concerned excuse his lack of logical judgment? Did it warrant him risking the lives of six people?

The police will be the judge of that. If it really comes to criminal charges being pressed, I might be called upon as a witness.

Wah liau.

Uncle Lim Gave Me Some Pocket Money

2005-12-25T17:12:00.000+08:00

Dor is a Gambling Queen.

She likes to go to Genting Highlands for some thrills in Monte Carlo casino, and her favourite companion for such jaunts is moi, as according to her ba zhi calculations, I'd not bring her bad luck, and therefore, allowed to accompany on her money-making quests.

On one of such trips, two of my colleagues tagged along. One is a closet photographer, the other a gambling king-wannabe and hope that Dor's unbelievable luck will rub off him by osmosis.

In the end, Dor took home 5-figure winnings, and myself, a grand. My colleague sulked the whole trip and refused to speak to me, so I could only guess he lost quite a fair bit. Asshat.

The photographer very generously shared his winnings here, with his Canon SLR:

The cable cars shrouded in the mist

Sunset

Night lights of Kuala Lumpur. On the right is the Petronas Twin Towers

Pictures by Ken.

My Friends

2005-12-25T15:15:00.000+08:00

I have several bunches of friends that I've collected through the various stages of my life so far:

Primary & Seconday Classmates
We were the cream of the crop, the high achievers of the best in the district that later went on the Cambridge, Oxford, etc, to become doctors, lawyers, researchers, businesswomen, etc. But what I remembered clearly was when we were in Secondary 5 in Malaysia, when the whole class was punished by the furious headmistress for playing truant en-masse. We stood on the stools in Science lab, while the junior students peered from the windows in horrified fascination.

A friend M whose mother was a beauty queen, swung from a 4-storey high window to holler "oooooooohoooooooo" Tarzan-style.

And we were in an all-girls school.

Pre-University Classmates
The first time I studied together with male classmates, and found that they were not so manly after all.

However, for 2 years we ate lunch in the classroom since it was on top of the hill and the journey to/from the canteen would have left us with no time to actually eat.

University mates
Not as much fun as the pre-u lunatics, but this was where I pitted my brains among the best scholars.

The most memorable incident was that of residential hall orientation, where we were made to walk through 3 cemeteries at midnight and some seniors dressed up as ghosts/vampires to scare the bejesus out of us. I turned to one and said "Hi" before walking away nonchalantly, while he burst out laughing. I had earlier caught a glimpse of a suspicious "thing" behind a tree before he could approach.

1st job colleagues
I experienced the dreaded bunny suit, and worked like donkey, on Christmas, New Year, etc. My paycheck rivaled that of a manager's but I received a gleeful letter from the IRS, for a 4 figure tax sum. Drats.

I met interesting people from many departments (a guy who could not stop farting, a Machiavellian director, an ineffective leader who could not define a problem for 2 whole months, etc), but the most important person was Dor, whom have become my friend, confidante, flatmate, and now mother of my godson.

My male colleague who entertain me with his sharp observations of women and to whom I taught French pick up lines.

2nd job colleagues
The only 3 girls in the Engineering department were known as Charlie's Angel. We went to lunch, dinner, karaoke and gossiped together. Laughed at our team leader together, in front of him.

With our birthdays only 2 months apart, we were closer than sisters.

Postgraduate studies classmate
The 3 of us from different countries, grouping together to complete endless assignments. One later went back to Indonesia to start her business venture, another got married and started a family. My salute for saving me from failing Java programming.

3rd job colleagues
Met the person who introduced Japanese anime to me. We played victims in the corporate conspiracy theory and I quit to end the game. She went to Netherlands for 1 month for training and collected X-rated dollar notes.

4th job colleagues
The 4 of us, including the manager, started the program from scratch. Now we're churning out at more than 200% of our calculated capacity. Our Dec shipments hit 1 million units, as compared to the August when we first started, we shipped 5000 units a day.

3 months into the job, 3 of them submitted their letters of resignation but were persuaded to stay on.

My manager and I couldn't talk freely in the office, so we used MSN Messenger to chat/complain/bitch about the project. Bleeding red ever since it started, both of us see the futility in continuing, as management is losing focus and instead of solving the root cause, tried to treat the symptoms. He is working even today, 7 days a week, 12 hours each day.

I feel guilty for not putting in similar work hours, but my MC tally has been high since I started this project, and my bandwidth has all been exhausted taking care of 2 aspects of the project. I am the sole engineer, while there are 2 program managers in this project. An inverted pyramid, anomaly to the normal corporate structure.

Come 2006, I would be the 1st person to hand in the letter, after all, I already have the template from him in my hard disk. My health has been seriously compromised by the long working hours and the dusty environment, and my family is very concerned by the fact that I've been coughing for more than 3 months.

I wish to pay tribute to my friends, including colleagues who've been promoted to the friend category.

I hope and will make the effort to stay in touch & involved, and may my future friends are similarly smart, gracious, steadfast and delightfully loony as all of you are.

Bunny Suits

2005-12-25T14:39:00.000+08:00

My first job after graduation was as an engineer in a wafer fabrication company.

I had to wear bunny suits whenever I stepped into the production floor, where minuscule chips were being made in the super-clean, high tech environment.

The ensemble:

Hair net. Bad hair day, every working day.
Surgical mask over mouth. Don't ever wear lipstick if you have to wear those mask. No makeup was allowed.
Knee-high Nylon booties.
Nylon bunny suit, that zipped up from below the crotch to neck.
Safety goggles.

Look ma, I'm an astronaut/bunny. Wait till I put on the goggles! I can out-cycle Lance Amstrong.

If you think that is funny, imagine an large-size Caucasian guy in a similar attire with stomach upset in this hilarious account of the bunny-men.

The first week, I almost passed out in a faint due to the oppressive pressure, and slightly stilted air. I had to grab hold of one of the rackings to stop myself from toppling face-down onto the platform, while my mentor was looking at me strangely.

I hated the bunny suit with a vengeance, vowing never to wear another pair as I left after 2 years of bad hair days.

Someone up there must have heard that and decided to be a prankster.

My next job's compulsory attire: steel-toes safety boots & fire retardant Nomex® jumpsuit.

Something Is Wrong

2005-12-24T23:33:00.000+08:00

Something is seriously wrong with the layout of the index page.

Seriously, I have no idea why the sidebar is so down the page. You'd have to practically scroll all the way dowwwwwwnnnnnnn just to see my profile, archives, etc.

My HTML, CSS coding knowledge have deserted me, so I can't figure out what's wrong with the formatting.

Eh, what's going on?

Merry Christmas Y'all

2005-12-24T22:07:00.000+08:00

I'm probably posting this for a lone soul's reading, moi. Nevertheless...

Merry Christmas
Joyeux Noël
Xing Dan Quai Le
Selamat Hari Natal

Someone stop me before I massacre more languages. Hohoho!

Is He The One?

2005-11-20T16:02:00.000+08:00

I am a spiritual person, I believe in karma (what you give/do, comes around - I suspect Newton got one of his Laws from the concept of karma), thus I was willingly dragged along by my friend Dor when she first visited a astrologer two years ago. Feeling particularly generous with the world (I had just struck 4D 2nd prize the previous week), I shelled out $100 for a 1 hour reading.

What the master told us intrigued me - based on my birth data:

"You are very intelligent" - I was in the Dean's List, got a scholarship in my final year, completed my Master's degree by the time I was 26.
"You are spiritual" - duh, that's why I was meeting him, right?
"You don't get on well with your younger sister" - dead on.
"You are destined to be well off, well, not a millionaire, but you'll always have enough money" - that's a comfort, since I tend to be a slacker & a weekend shopaholic.
"Your future husband will be of equal intelligence" - whew, that's another relief, since I can't stand mental slowpokes. Yeah, I'm an intellectual snob, so skewer me.
"You may get married in 2006, it looks pretty good that year" - shit, I'd be 30+ then!
"You actually met someone in 2003" - wait a minute, you mean it could be him?!

Dor could barely concealed a snicker when she heard the last bit. "Eh, so did you meet someone in 2003?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
The reading was in 1994, when I joined a MNC right after my Master's degree in 2002.

It was also then I thought the first time lightning had hit me.

We met barely 2 months into my new job. His company was one of our subcons in JB, and my team would be managing them remotely. The two of us were working closely to establish the process before we let other team members take over.

When he sauntered into the production floor where the action was, I was struck. How do I describe the feeling of speechlessness melded with shyness? My senior, who introduced us, noticed it straight away and wasted no time in blatant matchmaking.

Outside working hours, we SMS'ed regularly, with him sending witty jokes and observations and making me laughed outloud. He made me think of things I had never thought of.

Him: How many boyfriends have you had?
Me: Er, no one. Why the question?
Him: Just curious. Why not?

It took me an hour to reply, as I pondered his questions? It's not like I didn't have male friends, I was always more comfortable with guys with their frank ways. We were more like 'brothers', than anything else.

Me: I guess I wasn't interested in anyone before, not that way. No click.
Him: And now?
Me: Maybe. I dunno.

It made me uncomfortable, that he struck so close to the truth. Yes, I was interested at that moment, but it'd take me a visit to the dentist, before I confessed that to the object of my interest, never mind that he was trying to sound me out first.

When I was needed to stay in JB to oversee a project, he picked me up at my hotel and drove me to the my work place, which happened to be next to his, for 2 weeks. He teased me about requesting a deluxe room (I was so tiny enough to sleep in a single bed) and wasting company money, and I pouted till he ordered huge amount of food.

Every morning when he picked me up, he'd asked "Have your coffee already?" He learnt I was a coffee addict when the first time he picked me up, I clammed up shut and grunted only "coffee" when he tried to talk to me.

The one time he was late in picking me, he requested morning call. I was confused.

"Huh? The hotel doesn't give morning calls to non-guests".
"Not them, dummy. I mean you. Give me a morning call at 6.30am every morning."
"Hmm. Even though I sound like a frog in the morning?"
He grinned. "You sound more like a tiger in the morning, without your coffee."

The 2 weeks were like an eating journey for me, every night for dinner, he'd find some new place for me to try out. I'd complained about food in Singapore - "so bland and yucky", that he was seeking out places that were not "so bland and yucky" and "no chili" (my decree, when he suggested we went for curry).

It was his mission to fatten me up, he claimed, since I had lost some weight working for the project.

Once, I followed another collegue to the city centre, who ended up driving up and down the same stretch of road getting lost, I called him for help.

"Help."
"Where are you? Who are you with?"
"With a colleague. I think we're lost. Can you meet me somewhere and pick me up? I'm down with stomache, need to go back to hotel."
"If you're at highway, go to the hypermart & wait at the McDonald's there. I'm leaving the office soon."
"Ok, hurry up."

When I emerged from the washroom, he was outside waiting in his car, my colleague accompanied me to the parking lot on account that I was a "foreigner" in JB (my hometown is near KL, I live and work in Spore now).

"What? You were in McDonalds and you did not order anything for me?" He exclaimed when I buckled my seat belt.
"Er, you haven't had dinner yet? We can turn back and I'll get something for you."
"No need. I'll ask my Mom to heat up things for me. Mom loves me best," he said.
I was shame-faced. After all, he had been my dinner companion for the past days. "Sorry. My stomach was not feeling good, I think it was the fries I ate."
"Haha, serves you right for didn't buying me anything when you were there," he teased.

The two weeks of 14-hours work turned out bearable as he was there to provide company. I shuddered to think how it could turn out the other way.

Although he soon handed over his responsibilities to a coworker, we still met up for lunches if I happened to visit his company with my colleagues. The many conversations we had regarding lunch were hilarious.

Him: "So what do you all want to eat?"
L: "Anything."
V: "No duck."
Me: "Let's have western food, I want to eat chicken chop."
Him: "You're coughing like hell and you want to eat western food?!"
Me: "OK, la. No chicken."
Him: "No beef."
Me: "No vegetarian. We're left with only pork."
Him: "Bak kut teh."

The SMS banters I enjoyed so much slowly dwindled over time.

For every 5 SMS I sent, he'd only reply twice. It became once a month conversation, then nothing for 2, 3 months.

My birthdays were forgotten, and I sent him brief birthday messages when his came, as he shared the same birthdate as my Dad. His reply - "thank you".

I still remembered when he oh, so casually mentioned his birthday.

Me: "My dad has the same birthdate as you."
Him: "Then he must be a swell guy."

What happened to us? What went wrong? Was it the rat race that is taking so much from us? My senior who introduced us, still poked fun at me regarding him. I smiled serenely everytime, although a small corner of my heart was sad and yearning.

I've met countless of new people since then, some pretty eligible guys. One was rich enough for me to fulfill my tai-tai fantasy, but sadly, there was no spark.

I still think of him sometimes, of what might have been, and I'd feel melancholy.

Still, I'd know in 2006, if the astrologer is right.

Those Messages That I Archived

2005-11-20T14:51:00.000+08:00

5 Aug 2003 (10.55pm)
Me: I want to become tai-tai, do nothing but enjoy life.
J: Then you have to marry some rich guy lor.
Me: Any recommendations?
J: Tom Cruise
Me: Wah lau, he is prettier than me, how can?
J: oic, Tom Cruise not ok? me lor, hahaha.
* this took place just after Cruise-Kidman breakup*

16 Aug 2003 (01.09am)
(Message in Mandarin, roughly translated to English)

A person who cares about you
Will ask how you are and share your troubles
A person who loves you
Will not ask how you are
But try and hep to solve your troubles
Soothe your pain
And hold your hand when the going is rough
Look amongst your friends
And find the person who loves you

Me: Hey what does your message say? Can't read Chinese la.
J: Ask your friend to translate to you.

9 Jan 2004 (6.45pm)
Me: Today Marketing gave us a treat. Japanese BBQ buffet at Goodwood Park Hotel. Wah lau, I smell like char siew now.
J: hahaha... today very bz on the built. no time to reply ur mail. piggy char siew

9 Jan 2004 (8.53pm)
Me: What does a 28-year-old guy like that is less than 10 bucks?
J: like a engr
Me: What? You saying I am cheap! Seriously, be truthful le. I gotta get a gift for this guy.
J: get wat gift? 4 wat? actually also dun get wat u mean in ur last sms. juz reply oni.
Me: i have to get a gift for a 28-year-old guy for his birthday. What to get him?
J: kiss
Me: Wah, my kiss so cheap meh?
J: :-)

The Rat Race

2005-11-20T13:47:00.000+08:00

Spore - synonymous with "rat race". The whole country joins in the fun, resulting in the one of the lowest sex frequency (73) in the world. Good, we beat only Japan. After all, we strive to be the Numero Uno at every imaginable contests, good or bad immaterial.

Why is it that I get calls in the middle of the night, on dates with my girlfriends and basically all day long, when most people are able to enjoy the off-days/hours in peace? That I would once mistaken 12.30 midnight as 6am, brushed my teeth & changed to working clothes and almost left my house to go to work? At 12.30 midnight?

I thought I had left the race 4 years ago, when I quit a well-paying job (bi-annual increments, 4-figure tax dollars) to study something I never thought I would be interested in - IT.

The world of IT calmed my feverish my mind. Far from the frantic demands of my job, where I was the principal trouble-shooter for one of the semiconductor processes, my mind hungrily absorbed the systematic IT principals.

Two years later, with my mind refreshed, I joined an MNC. Life quickly turned into a never-ending routine:

0830 - Time in
0900-0930 - breakfast with colleagues (the most important meal, didn't anyone tell you??)
0940-1200 - Cleared inbox. 150 emails. Replied emails demanding urgent attention - 150 bloody emails.
1215-1330 - lunch (greasiest & most calorie-ridden dishes we could find)
1345-1730 - Cleared inbox. 200 emails. Replied emails demanding urgent attention - 200 bloody emails...
1730 - 2130 - Went home (worked feverishly at the computer, firing emails to US, Brazil, China - urgent attention emails). Barked at suppliers/sub-cons who dared to leave the office at 5pm - why should the customer works longer hours if there are subcons??!
0830 - 1200 (Sat) - Cleared inbox. 150 emails from USBrazilpeoplewhoneversleepandwillchewassonMondayifIdon'treplytheirf*kingemails.

Two years of cleaning up after inept colleagues/counterparts/stupid people, I left to join another conglomerate, where I dressed up in fire-retardant NOMEX® jumpsuits, ear-plugs, steel toes safety boots & climbed turbins.

It was fun, but after too many times setting off the metal detector alarms (I remember the hilarious look on the security guards' faces at KLCC lobby, where I strode in in my boots), dodging the rain on unsheltered platform, and chased by stray dogs every morning on the way to our office, I gave up. It was not calming to have mongrels pouncing at your person when they were taller on all four.

6 months break, one of the best times in my life, when I could sleep, drink coffee, read and basically just bum about as and when I wanted.

I am now back in the rat race again, where the phone does not stop ringing, where "We have to work this Sunday, again" is spoken every Saturday evening. I have panda-style eye rings that looked tattooedd in, my cough is still lingering around after 3 months. I've lost 3kg in 3 months, which was pretty awful since my weight was only 45kg to begin with.

I have a friend who left his post as a manager to take over his family business - selling wan ton nooddle in a hawker centre. And he is not regretting his decision since he is taking control of his life.

I shudder to think how I've sacrificed my personal life to the race; how I've never had a long term relationship, and how my heart clenches painfully whenever I receive news/pictures of my friends who are getting married/expecting babies.

How I always have a melancholy look when I see a new couple walking down the aisle and desperately wishing that it was me behind the veil.

How I would snuggle & kiss babies/toddlers, and wish that I have some of my own to cherish.

How I always peer into my phone, and read archived SMSs of playful banter from someone I cared for (and still am).

How I am now writing this blog on a Sunday afternoon, with tears clouding my eyes, and wishing desperately for a call from him.

Contact Lens Fiasco - Part Troix

2005-09-28T22:47:00.001+08:00

This is another classic where I dropped the right lens (again) into the basin. And down it went to the U-bend.

It was 11pm at night, I was getting ready for bed, and the last one up.

Well, what could I do? I unscrewed the U-bend and, euw, poured out the contents to check for the missing lens.

Yuck, all the mucking around, 10 minutes later, I had to conclude that it really went down the drain.

I had to tell the whole sordid story to my disbelieving parents, and endured sniggers from my classmates who said they were almost hypnotised by the giant whirlpools on my face. 'Nuf said.

Part Deux
Part One

Contact Lens Fiasco - Part Deux

2005-09-28T22:45:00.001+08:00

Part 2 happened in China, where I was with my parents and younger sister.

We were looking at lugagges, when my eye itched.Yup, the proverbial right eye. And yup, I gave it a rub (I seriously believed Fiasco 1 would not repeat itself - I was right, kind of).Instantly my right eye went blur.

My mum went, "Oh no, not again." We looked at the ground.

Voila, right by my sneaker was the offending clear thingy. I quickly picked it up before some unsuspecting stranger (I was actually terrified it would be me) stepped on it and squished it to oblivion.

I had 50% vision, and in a foreign country where I could speak, but not read its language (shame on me, a banana Chinese). We were 1km away from the hotel, and the temperature was freezing cold at 5 degC. My lens was quickly shrivelling into a tight bud in my palm.

My dad took charge, telling my mum & sister to go back to the hotel with the rest of the tour group, pulled my arm and together we ran back to the hotel.

My distressed lens recovered after a night of good soak.That was a really, really minor thing compared to one where a tour member had his shoe sole dropped out during breakfast, but that was another story.

Part Troix
Part One

Contact Lens Fiasco

2005-09-28T22:41:00.001+08:00

I've split my 3-in-1 tales into separate entities, I nearly crossed my eyes when I revisit the earlier posting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been wearing contact lens since pre-U, my myopia made conventional glasses too uncomfortable to wear for long periods of time (not to mention I'd look like I have two gigantic whirlpools on my face, those who've seen high powered glasses would know what I'm trying to say here).

I've always known that somehow, I've managed to monopolize all the klutzy genes my parents have to endow on me and two sisters.

Witness this:
The second day I started wearing my first pair of lenses, I managed to lose one of it. I had given my right eye a slight rub during a tuition class. Then I was having double visions: good on the left one, half blind on my right eye. I squinted at the white board, couldn't make out the words with my right eye. I covered my right eye, everything was clear.

I repeated the squint-peer-cover-peer on my tutor, he looked at me worriedly.

I checked my eye at the mirror in the washroom, and could not see the clear lens on my right eyeball. I panicked and ran back to the class. For the rest of the hour, I was squinting at the floor, trying to find the elusive lens.

When the class ended, I leapt up and forbid everyone to stand up and walked around. "I think my contact lens is on the floor, but I can't see it." Everyone obediently lifted the feet while I scouted around, to no result.

My mum looked at me in disgust when I told her about it. My dad just sighed and mumbled away, no doubt mourning the $100 down the drain.

Then voila, when I was showering, I found the missing contact lens. It was, unbelievably, tucked under my right upper eyelid, folded in half. I had felt something (thought it was another errant eyelash) under my lid and had lifted it to peer under carefully, and there it was!

Part Troix
Part Duex

My First ... Comment

2005-09-27T22:31:00.000+08:00

I had thought that my blog would languish in the dirty, moldy corner of the blog-dom, with nary a reader save myself (perhaps shouldn't count myself, boohoo). After all, it's been months since I started posting, and I could clearly see I had a HUGE fan base, not.

Then I saw that one of my entries had a comment... wooha! It was like striking lottery. Well, not exactly.

Alas, I am resigned to my original thought... (the moldy corner, la) when I read the comment. I don't think someone actually read that, just some sneaky tech geek (or who paid said geek) who used a bot to post *flattering* remarks & entice people to CLICK on the stupid links... online dating agency, my smelly size-3 foot!

Buster, you get paid per click, issit? Get a life!

Robbed at Knife Point - Oily Men With Towel-Wrapped Heads (Finally Updated - 3 Dec 05)

2005-09-26T23:03:00.000+08:00

This happened almost twenty years ago (guess my age now ;0) when my family & cousins went on a beach outing. And it took me almost as long to remember every details... but I'm nursing a cough that threatening to render me voiceless. The cough medicine is knocking me out even now, so will have to wait a while before I'm coherent enough. Hopefully it won't be another 20 years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the year-end school holidays, when cousins from far & near had rowdy gatherings. We booked a private bungalow at Port Dickson, a seaside town in Malaysia. The old folks wanted to avoid the public at KM8 (if I remember correctly), so we went to KM12 instead, which was more of private residential properties.

So there were 3 families; 5 adults, 1 maid, 5 teenagers & 11 kids (including yours truly here).

The first night, the teenagers stayed up to trade ghost stories (a perpetual past time that I hated till now), with the adults admonishing them to "lock up".

At 2am, I heard a knock on our bedroom door. I had a direct view since I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor, right at the door. Dad stumbled out of bed, opened door & slammed it shut a second later.

Me: ?? Why slam door on cousin J? (I managed to see who was knocking)
Dad: Robbery!
Me, younger sis, mom, older sis & cousin sat up bugged eye.

*Knock, knock*

Dad ran over to the window and looked around, we were surrounded by darkness, no chance of neighbours to our rescue.

* Knock, knock*

Left with no other choice but face the robber holding a screwdriver to J's neck, he walked back to the door, but not before slipping a wad of cash on beneath my mattress.

J was pushed onto the bunk bed, the robber pointed the screwdriver at my dad. He (the robber, not Dad) was topless, his shoulders and chest shiny with oil greased onto his body. I recognized one of our beach towels wrapped around his head.

Robber: Gimme money or I strip the girls (pointing to my older sister & another cousin, who were huddled together in terror). What are you looking at boy? (Poked screwdriver into cousin's neck until a bit of blood welled up.)

My Dad told him of the cash underneath the mattress.

Robber 1 was joined by another turban-wrapped oily man, Robber 2, who had been skulking in another room, with my Uncle in tow. My auntie was left behind their room, with promise to keep their young kids asleep/quiet.

Our hands were tied. My younger sister, at 3 years of age, thought it was another game, gamely offered her tiny hands to be tied. Stupid kid.

Robber 3 appeared in our room, they were using the room as their command centre.

After half an hour of relieving us of cash & valuables, they left through the kitchen. It was only ten minutes later, that we left the room we were holed up in, to check on the others.

My family lost all cash, including the rent for the bungalow.

My Uncle lost cash, watch and his camera. He actually asked the film to be given back, since he just came back from an overseas trip. The robbers ignored him.

After telling each other our sides of the story, we managed to come up with a plausible "storyline".

Earlier in the day, my aunts had actually wandered over to the nearby fishing village to buy seafood fresh from the fishermen's nets.

Aunt A had diamonds dripping on her ears & fingers. Having lived in Singapore with a super efficient police force, she thought nothing of flashing her sparklies, which was a pretty stupid thing to do.

The sparklies certainly caught some attention. That night the robbers came.

After waiting behind the kitchen for more 3 hours (the teenagers were sharing ghost stories), they got their lucky break when the teenagers finally trooped to the bedrooms & left the kitchen door unlatched.

Snagging the numerous towels hanging out to dry, they wrapped their head, leaving only their eyes uncovered. Armed with skinny screwdrivers, they slithered down the dark hall to test the bedroom doorknobs.

Bingo. The master bedroom was unlocked, where cousin J was sleeping with his siblings, 5 cousins, Filipino maid & mother, all over the floor. Seeing so many kids in various stages of sleep, Robber 1 tried to prod the maid awake, and avoid possibly a whole bunch of howling kids.

Urmgh, the maid muttered & turned the other way, still oblivious to the menace in towel turban glowering down at her.

Robber 1 quickly lost patience with the stubbornly slumbering maid. He tip-toed to cousin J & pushed him awake, screwdriver at the ready.

At the sight of the glinting steel, J knew what was going on.

Robber 1 had his arm around J's neck & dragged him out of the bedroom, leaving the kids & stubborn maid (get the drift? The maid was faking sleep. She knew something was wrong) still sleeping. My aunt the diamond model, by that time, was already awake, seeing her son being dragged away to our room, yet torn by the sight of so many innocent faces sleeping, chose to stay behind with the other children, only to be dragged to our room later.

After stripping us of valuables, they left. We were left tied up in the room, looking at each other, wondering how to free ourselves when voila, some older kids from the master bedroom turned up with scissors (thought they were asleep! Master actors, all of them).

It turned out that some of them had actually woken up and pretended to be asleep when Robber 1 was in their room. When the robber had left with my aunt and cousin, the whole bunch had gathered at the door and tried to listen through the keyhole. Only when the robbers had left that they had dared to come out and help.

Morning saw us sitting listlessly, talking about the robbery as if it was a dream.

When the landlady turned up early, to our surprise, we told her that we were robbed and would not be able to pay rent. Imagine our disgust when she sheepishly said that at 3am, she actually saw some shadows moving about in the hall, but thought nothing of it.

We left disgruntled, our holiday turned to nightmare.

My aunt commented that I had actually foresaw it, somehow (I didn't know I was a psychic!), when on the way to the bungalow, I pointed out a huge snake that was just disappearing into the bushes beside the road. And when my curious fingers lifted up the postbox flap, a green snake coiled inside the cavity hissed at me.

The Chinese believed (or my aunt did) that snakes are signs of bad things, thus the fact that I discovered 2 snakes within an hour, did not bring good fortune to the bunch.

But my Dad was more rational: "The diamonds caused this, not the bloody snakes."

Gosh, I love my dad.

Of X-X and X-Y Chromosomes & Comfort Women

2005-07-30T20:11:00.000+08:00

I am an avid follower of the Japan Hour show on Channel NewsAsia (CNA), I drool at the sight of the delicious food featured (oishi!) and the onsens (hot springs). The cult anime Inuyasha shown on Arts Central every Wed to Fri has kept me glued to the screen. I love the story, and the hilarious byplays between the 4 human leads.

But it seems like the Japanese is facing a great crisis, as reported on the papers, that has prompted a look into possible amendment to the constitution. That will allow a female to ascend the Chrysanthemum throne, namely Princess Aiko, currently the only child of the Crown Prince and Crown Princess.

The Crown Princess is said to be under enormous pressure to produce a male child.

Hello, am I missing something here? A child is produced from the fertilization of an egg by a sperm, is it not? Then why is the Princess being pressured when it's the male sperm that controls the sex of the baby conceived? The FreeDictionary.com defines sex chromosome as: "...usually designated X or Y, in the germ cells of most animals and some plants, that combine to determine the sex and sex-linked characteristics of an individual, with XX resulting in a female and XY in a male in mammals."

By this a male sperm would carry both X- and Y-chromosomes, while the female egg carries only X-chromosomes, thus sex of the baby would be determined 100% by the father, not the mother.

Give them biology lessons, bro, and while they're it, some basic statistical theory as well. Poor Princess Masako has suffered unnecessarily for some old coots' ignorance or just plain stupidity.

Another classic example of Japanese males' idiotic stubbornness was their rigid hold to their bloody military past where was the thousands of women treated abominably as "comfort women". To these women, "comfort" was not exactly what they felt when they were held as sex slaves, pandering to the sadistic whims by the Japanese Army. And to use a very white-washed version of history for school children's history lessons, this smacks of disrespect to the thousands who lost their lives, akin to spitting on the graves of the dead. And they still smacked their heads in confusion and complained when China, Korea voiced their dissatisfaction when the PM planned to visit the Yasakuni war shrine, that glorified among them, some Class A war criminals that had participated actively in the countless massacres. Like what someone said, respect has to be earned, and so is forgiveness. Japan cannot expect to turn a blind eye to their past deeds by the simple phrase "it was in the past", and disrespect the countries that had suffered. They should have what I'd call "History Attachment" with Germany, who's earned forgiveness and subsequently respect, for their actions in regretting their past WW2 atrocities, and atonement.