Best PA of the Year Award goes to...

SHAN!!!

I have have HAVE to blog about this because Shan is really truly the best personal assistant you can find.

She jumps up to help me over my every whim, no matter how trivial.

When I'm crazy busy and my cell phone beeps indicating an incoming text..

F: FUCKKKKK the hell is my phone?!!!
Shan: I'll help you find.

She's there when I need someone to print stuff. She's there to do damage control when my own teammates malfunction and fail to exercise any sense of urgency or are so jittery they'll put gancheong spiders to shame.

She does all my calculations. She scours for articles I need when it's not even her job. She volunteers to tell the journos stuff I need to tell them but I'm too fucking lazy to walk over.

She cancelled her plans so she could hang with me when I needed to get out from getting together with this rather persistent erm, being. She drafts my replies for the said persistent person because I refused to devote any part of my brains to invent creative excuses. Unworthy of my time really.

She adjusts my bra strap when it falls off my shoulder (when I'm wearing bra). She provides me tape to prevent any potential zhao geng ie, exposure of them boobs (when I'm not wearing bra).

She listens as I whine, groan and moan about my misfortunes and celebrate with me when I've got reasons for joy.

She plays the angel and is my voice of reason and sense when I demonstrate unhealthy inclinations.

She tests food that I think looks too dubious to be popped into my own mouth, and finish up food I no longer feel like having.

She developes distaste for the peeps I detest in the office and makes up nicknames for them so we can bitch happily without giving anything away.

She helps me plan frivolous office parties, remembering every single crazy details I conjure up out of nowhere.

She is FABULOUS. No doubt about it.

Better still, she's my friend and I heart her.

Question is, what am I to do when she packs her bag for her stint as a foreign worker in New Jersey sometime in June later?!!

Die la.

(11:53 PM)

ADDICTED

It has come to a point where being at work feels like being a sobered-up alcoholic working in a bar.

Yes, another liquor-related analogy / simile / metaphor whathaveyous. Forgot my literary terminologies ler.

A constant battle of an addiction.

The perpertual need to summon strength to resist the temptation.

Like a junkie, I sometimes managed to walk away triumphantly. Other times, I weakened and caved to that pint-sized addiction that is responsible for other addictions. In between, drama fills the gap/s.

Self-destruction is like a concurrent theme in my life. It's pathetic. And I feel pathetic.

It doesn't help that ONE, the astrology webby I patronise very regularly for my daily dose of star-sign reading is cocked up. I clicked "next" for tomorrow's prediction and it brought me to December 31, 1969. It's been freaking 2 days.

Creepy. And not to mention, tragically frustrating.

TWO, thursday party theme is Rock and I seem to have misplaced my eyeliner. How to rock the rock-chic look you tell me?!

Some of us have real problems indeedth.

On a positive note, someone once told me being an addict is not all that bad. In a world where everybody is waiting for some bline, random disaster, or some sudden disease, the addict has the comfort of knowing what will most likely wait for him down the road. He's taken some control over his ultimate fate, and his addiction keeps the cause of death from being a total surprise.

Hmmmm ponder, ponder.

p/s: In case you're worried, no I'm not an alcoholic nor am I hooked on any illegal substance.

(11:07 PM)

I BREATHE, therefore I WHINE

f says (22:20):
jane asked me whats my cereal brand

f says (22:20):
then now she got one container of it on her desk also

f says (22:20):
copy cat

shan says (22:20):
HAHAHAHA

shan says (22:20):
i'm going to hop onto the bandwagon

shan says (22:20):
i'll bring one pack of it tml too!

f says (22:21):
hahhaha

f says (22:21):
kok

f says (22:21):
u nevermind

f says (22:21):
u're my fren

shan says (22:21):
thanks!

shan says (22:22):
she wants to be included la

f says (22:22):
no fun

f says (22:23):
then later ppl think we like the same cereal

f says (22:23):
this is my favourite lei

f says (22:23):
boo

shan says (22:23):
wat to do

shan says (22:23):
ban her from eating meh?

shan says (22:24):
at least she's not copying ur dressing style u noe

shan says (22:24):
IMAGINE JANE BRALESS

f says (22:24):
LOL

f says (22:24):
U MADE ME LOL

f says (22:24):
like literally

shan says (22:24):
hahahaa

f says (22:25):
this is funny

f says (22:25):
this goes into the blog

shan says (22:25):
YES I MADE IT

shan says (22:26):
hahahahaha

f says (22:26):
hahaha

You would have gathered three things from that convo. One, F is childish. Two, F is biased when it comes to her friends, they can get away with anything really. But if non-friends attempt the same thing, F would want to bite their heads off. And three, F's "dressing style" = No bra.

Hahaha!!!

Not all the time okay! But yes, if I can get away with it, I'd much rather do without it.

(10:38 AM)

You know you are in dire need of a haircut when you start feeling like a walking talking HIPPIE.

It's sad. My hair. It's like annoyingly long but I still want it longer. The fringe is so fugly. The whole thing has no shape whatsover. I don't know what the hell to do with it in the morning, this dark mass of lumpy stringy things atop my head. Urgh.

I NEED a haircut!!!

Stat.

And I want Shane McCutcheon to chop my locks.

(12:26 AM)

B goes to ITALY

The thing that gets to me about blogging, okay before that, I know what you're thinking. I've only barely rekindled the passion, I should not be too hasty to put out the flame.

But no, see, I'm that girl who wants to pour out everything out of her and overflow this blogpost but at the same time, I need to exercise discretion less someone uninvited stumble upon my entries.

Therefore, by some perverted logic, to make my blog unsearchable on Google or whatever other (lousy-why-do-you-even-bother-compete-with-Google) search engines there is, I cannot mention certain organizations and certain people. There can only be so many Xiaxue-s in this world can.

So I have to resort to give my friends fake names or simply assign them acronyms ala Gossip Girl.

Plan A is too time-consuming because I would be staring blankly at my screen thinking hard of names that would suit my friends. And I'm crazy anal so the names have to fit them perfectly, which means that by the time I come up with something that matches their looks AND personalities, I'll be too tired to remember what was it I wanted to blog about in the first place!

Plan B is great and very trendy thanks to a hit TV series BUT alot of my peeps share the same fucking first letter!

Like for instance, I've got 2 Ms, 2 Rs and like so many Bs in my life okay, one of whom I don't even speak to anymore. So if I use the letter B in reference to someone else, wouldn't my readers get all confused?! Ah it's a pain.

Thus, I have to include an expository paragraph before I begin my story, something kinda like this:

My good friend at work, B, also the papers' photojournalist has left for Italy for a good three weeks for his holidays. Three fucking weeks! He was gone for two for his reservist and I was already moaning and groaning about his absence.

But what bites the cake is that I was supposed to be on this trip too if not for the shiteous fact that Emily is no longer with us, Jane can't be depended on to save her own life, so I can't take leave! Yes, I need to hurl profanities in all languages here.

Me: We should do dinner outside on Sunday when we work since u'll be gone for so long after.

B: How to get out? We don't have a car, who's gonna drive us out?

Me: Take cab lor. Or we borrow Kim's bike. Haha.

B: LOL. Then both of us end up pushing it.

Me: Ehy sorry, you can push! I'll be on the bike.

B: Ok I try my best.

The man-boy has been fretting his black hair white over the trip I want to smack him sometimes. But I guess I can't blame him. Having been attacked once by a gang of skinhead punks in broad daylight will do that to you.

B (and this was after many going back-and-forth contemplating): Ok ok I think I'll take u up on the backpack. Can I pls borrow?

Me: Pls don't make me bring to work. U can come over and collect..

B: Ya I'll drop by weekend.

Me: Ok.

B: I'm worried!

Me: About ur trip? I shld go with u right. U'll be alot calmer. Haha

B: Ya I certainly will.

But alas. Next year my friend, next year; when I celebrate my coming into a quarter of a century. Have fun as you traispe the streets of Rome/Milan with your "cool" neck wallet! Hahahaha!!!

Okay don't hate me.

And because he's such a woman, giving himself a 7pm curfew for fear of being mugged by Italian mafias, he still comes online.

B says (15:47):
ciao bella

f says (15:47):
ciao whatever-the-male-version-of-bella-is

B says (15:47):
uomo

B says (15:47):
that means hunk

B says (15:47):
lol

f says (15:48):
ew, go away

f says (15:48):
have fun

f says (15:48):
haha

B says (15:48):
i will!

Argh, I want be in Italy right this minute too. But no, I got to go to work and cover my boss's 3-page-long duties cos she's busy shopping for annoying bo liao cutesy stuff in Japan. Pui.

Shite I'm gonna be late again! Laters peepz.

(11:02 AM)

This is what FRIENDS are for, amongst many other things.

f says (21:34):
dun talk to me. im busy

f says (21:34):
i was about to switch off my comp

f says (21:34):
when Liz the sub

f says (21:34):
gave me back Jane's page

f says (21:34):
cos she brilliantly covered the ad with her story

f says (21:35):
KNNCCB

f says (21:35):
so i kena rejig

f says (21:35):
AND

f says (21:35):
cannot even edit her stories cos she left them in her OWN basket

f says (21:35):
i called P to complain

f says (21:35):
cannot tahan ler

Em says (21:36):
wtf!!!!!!!

Em says (21:36):
why are stories in HER basket

Em says (21:36):
it's all to be in fucking Plus basket what

Em says (21:37):
chibai fuck

Em says (21:37):
stupid fucking bitch

Em says (21:37):
bloody stupid cunt

f says (21:39):
YA

Em says (21:40):
why

Em says (21:40):
someone kill her please

Yup, friends get bull-raging mad at the subject/source of your distress. Haha. With that, I want to make a shout out to all my friends, some I see most than others but I want to say to those I haven't spent enough time with, that despite everything, I heart you guys so effing much.

Especially Lontong and Mary. I miss yous. It's due time for some F and Lontong time; and F and Mary time. *sniffs*

Lontong, I'll tag along while you go about doing your one million and one errands and help you carry your shit. I don't care as long as I get to finally see that person I can be completely honest with, who shares my kok sense of humour and chronically lame remarks.

Mary, I'm always scolding you cos you're like so effing blur! But you do know you got to meet me soon to de-stress cos I'm funny, fun and I love you like that. *flicks hair* Plus you need to bitch about your boss, who's sucking the life out of you. So yeah. You know my digits.

Okay, I'm cheesy, but I really really HEART my friends many much!

(11:35 PM)

So I'm on a rampant quest for a CAREER SWITCH.

Guerilla-style baby.

Okay not a switch per se cos it doesn't have to be a completely different industry altogether. It's not like I'm suddenly going into enginnering or anything like that, don't worry. Never an option.

Haiya, I just want out la can.

I know a lot of my friends think I shouldn't cos my job gives me my free time, has its perks, and I'm lucky cos my colleagues are my friends.

But I swear if u see me at work, as Shan my dear friend and also personal assistant has, you'll know I owe it to myself to get another gig, and get that gig fast.

I'm losing drive, I'm losing edge, I'm losing grip, I'm losing heart. Oh and I'm also losing a fraction of my pay thanks to the economy.

To execute the plan towards the goal, I've decided to swing by the job fair happening this weekend. Of course I'm sure it's not the most original plan considering the whole cohort of fresh grads will also be taking up viable space in the exhibition halls, sharing my freaking oxygen.

Being the anal biatch that I am, I went online to check out the list of positions/companies involved in the fair. Yunno to see if it's worth getting my boobs squashed inwards amidst the crowd.

Before I poured over the 50-pages worth of list, I even made an excel sheet with three columns, which reads: Positions; Company Names; and Booth Number.

Yes, paranormal display of initiative from moi there.

But it makes perfect sense. Once I'm there I can make a beeline for the things I want to apply for, no need to sieve through the chaos of a haystack.

There were 2454 positions available. Two thousand, four hundred and fifty-four effing positions open. (Yes go buy lottery now, shoo!)

Out of that many, only two (TWO!!) made it into my list of potentials.

I didn't go to the job fair and spent my weekend swimming with my nephew, went for a run, did yoga and pilates instead. But most of all, I vegetated.

Bleah.

I need to get a purpose. Seriously.

(9:22 PM)

#%&@$!!!

I'm already not the most verbally refined person as it is. But hanging with my beloved colleagues doesn’t help filter the profanities out of my potty mouth either.

Emily and I were discussing our upcoming dinner party plans at Oosters and who we will invite for the soiree.

emily says (10:52):
XW ah

emily says (10:53):
then his bengness can come to light

f says (10:54):
okay ah-beng lor

f says (10:54):
when he gets drunk… scary

f says (10:54):
then he'll lan jiao here

f says (10:54):
lan jiao there

emily says (10:54):
muahahahah

emily says (10:54):
yaaaaaa

emily says (10:54):
then u chibai here chibai there

emily says (10:54):
gathering of the vulgars

The newsroom, especially approaching offstone time, is a hotbed of filthy, spitting, swear words. Even the biggest of bosses wouldn’t flinch when someone's "FUCK" echoes through the office.

You'd think nothing can be any more obscene than that but try witnessing my colleagues in their glorious state of inebriation. Angels die just walking pass a hearing distance from them. It's true. Haha.

It's amazing really how all these otherwise eloquent, articulated and grammatically-correct news-peeps slip in and out of their bengs/lians punkster personas.

Oh how I heart them, my fellow comrades, so.

(3:48 PM)

You know that all-consuming, mind-blowing, heart-shattering, euphoric feeling of like/love? The kinda feeling that sends you straight down the path of self-destruction?

Ya THAT. Is. NOT. Good.

I've always been one who wouldn't settle for something less than a high when it comes to the laws of attraction. I see no point in wasting time going into something that isn't like downing a Flaming Lamborghini.

The kind of falling that is exactly that, a fall. A hard one that makes you kinda giddy afterwards. The kind of feeling that blurs your sensibilities and fizzles out your inhibitions.

You don't have to be a shrink to be able to recognize that THAT is a huge-ass problem. It's plain stupid. Like I might as well walk into a room full of the Jonas Brothers' fan-girls and viciously spurt, "The Jonas are a bunch of juvenile whinies who don't deserve to share the stage with Stevie Wonder." I will be mauled alive for sure.

I'm beginning to think that I need a major paradigm shift of the mind here and tell myself that boring is best. Boring is not gonna break your heart. Boring is not gonna mindfuck you upside down.

My dear friend, FZ, is dating this guy she feels absolutely no chemistry with. But he's a nice guy. And he seems to like her and is making all these gestures that point all ten fingers in that direction. She sat across from him at the table over dinner and thought, "Damn I'm not into him."

If I'm being the stupid and suicidal me, I'd say, "Get out of there, bitch. Why even bother?"

But I'm starting to see the trend here. The relationship that lasts through time is not those boiling with passion over the flame, spilling water out from the pot kind. Heck it doesn't even simmer sometimes!

But those, THOSE are the relationships that will keep you safe and warm and secure and dare I say, content.

So darling FZ, I say you sit through this one and let this fella bowl you over. Let him move you cos hell, do you deserve it!

Heart!

And meanwhile I will work on not being Jenny in Season One who would say things like, "I don't know what to do. Every time I look at you I feel so completely dismantled."

I'm not gonna be Jenny, the screwed-up, fucked-up kuku that she is. Hell no.

(11:44 PM)

F is for FAGGING

I suddenly felt like it at work just now. I'm swarmed shit you wouldn't even believe it.

f says (19:57):
how many sticks in one pack ah

f says (19:57):
i will pay my colleague for one

f says (19:57):
hahaha

R says (19:58):
20

f says (19:59):
so 12 divide by 20 right

R says (19:59):
hhahahaah

f says (19:59):
60 cents per stick?

R says (19:59):
YES

f says (19:59):
wah piang

R says (19:59):
yes

R says (20:00):
just pay if you wanna smoke

f says (20:00):
yes yes i will

R says (20:00):
or else, don't pay. don't smoke,

R says (20:00):
cold turkey

f says (20:00):
i will effing pay

f says (20:00):
i havent had one since mambo can!

R says (20:01):
WAHhhhhhhhhh

R says (20:01):
you...

R says (20:01):
can tahan so long??

R says (20:01):
i guess you not as stressed as i am

R says (20:01):
so it's ok

f (20:01):
im not addicted yet what

R says (20:02):
i gtg sleep liao

R says (20:03):
awake since... i suspect... 2am. started doing work from 3.30am.

R says (20:03):
it's mad.

R says (20:03):
u pay your 60cents ciggie

R says (20:03):
hahaha

R says (20:03):
tata

f says (20:03):
OK

f says (20:03):
wish u're here

f says (20:03):
to fag wimme

R says (20:03):
so we can fag tog?

R says (20:04):
haha

R says (20:04):
you make me laugh and sigh all the time

f says (20:04):
haha

f says (20:04):
OKAY BYE

And fag I did. Bumped a ciggy from a colleague. She refused to take my 60 cents though. God bless her soul. And no Maddy, I'm not making it a habit. I'm barely even having one fag a week.

R, come home quick.

(11:29 PM)

I MISSED blogging.

My blog nazis, you can put your mind to rest. Quit prodding me now, cos I am back in the virtual stratosphere.

I present to you, my utterly boring and dull blogart. So insensate you'd have no choice but to devote all your eyes on my words.

Muahaha.

SO MUCH has happened since I've last let this space go into a coma. And in the efforts of still keeping friends in the loop, I've called, met up, sent episodic instalment of my life via email, IM-ed so fervently I almost sent the keyboard flying across the newsroom etc.

It has been fun but let's now come back to one portal so I will no longer have to repeat myself so many goddamn times. I love you to bits but there's only so much a girl can regale the same fucking narrative.

I look forward to you voyuering as I self-indulge.

Thank you for your patience.

(2:52 AM)