OK the spa scrub and massage I had last night was absolutely out of this world.. The therapist, Min, is sooo good! She has many years of experience in massage and treating sports injuries so she knew where I was aching (upper shoulder and neck) just by feeling my muscles. Fantastic. And she made my aches and pain all melt away like magic. It’s quite an upmarket and elegantly fitted out place, so all the staff are properly trained (no disgusting ah lians/ Malaysia accented Chinese too, phew). And they really pamper their customers with little things like specially blended essential oils, organic ginger tea, different bathrobes after scrub and after bath etc.

The most important thing is, I walked like I was floating after the massage and I slept like the dead last night.

At S$280.00 per pop, it’s not cheap. The sales manager tried to make me sign up for a package at a cheaper rate, saying that it’s only valid if I sign immediately. But I don’t like rash decisions like that, or being pressurised like that. So I didn’t… And man, I must say she is rather creative with different sales pitches..

Honestly, I think the timeline thing is just a sales tactic, and I can still purchase the package at that price for my next appointment.

So……. am going to sign up for it after all.

Come on, I work so hard ok!

OK hardworking me is going home to cook dinner now..

Ok I am off to The Ultimate Penthouse Spa in less than half an hour… Am so looking forward to the body polish and message pampering… And it’s free too! My boss was given this voucher that is only given to Solitaire (some upppity, by invitation only thingy) status passengers and he gave it to me! Whoppee!

If the view is anything to go by the picture on the voucher, it’s picturesquely breathtaking! And the copy says it’s a Mandilulur Retreat that’s 90 minutes and worth $250.00..

I think my boss is quite sweet. Sometimes.

I missed out something… something very important.

I abhor parents who smoke near their kids. Especially so for the mothers. Especially so if they are pregnant. These people will get the tallest of the coldest of the dirtiest looks from me. Look, you want to die, by all means. Just don’t foist it on your innocent helpless kids. And don’t even think about smoking near my kids. Go smoke inside your cute little yellow square. Your life is cheap. Theirs aren‘t.

And drug addicts who endanger their kids with their zoned out state, or worse still force their kids to buy drugs for them under cover; they are way down there with the pedophiles and child abusers.

I despise these people. I’d spit on them if it wasn’t such a blatant waste of my elitist spittle.

If you have been observant, you would have realized that of late, I am not as inclined towards as many political nonsensical commentaries as before, the honorary mention on Intelligent Singaporean notwithstanding.

Why not?

I think the question should really be, why?

Why do bloggers get themselves into tight knickers just because they do not agree on certain issues? Why do they bother blogging (and in some cases, whining) about it but take no action whatsoever?

Before you point an accusing finger at me and suspect I have defected to the PAP camp of “join politics if you want to criticize”, that’s really not true. I am merely wondering at the futility of it all, to have so much angst and spend so much time talking about issues. How many bloggers do in fact, take the time out to do something about it, apart from blogging out their unhappiness?

You know what? I am not going to bother that much anymore. I do realize that no matter how much I analyse and dissert the political stupidity, the political unfairness and the political imbalance, things are going to remain very much status quo.

Ho Ching is still there isn’t she, despite the Shincorp scandal?

Lim Hwee Hwa is still there and even promoted isn’t she, despite the NKF disgrace, of which she failed to uncover the discrepancies even in the course of her Finance Minister portfolio. And she should really zip it about juggling family and work. No big deal, you did it with like with, how many maids?? How many Singaporean women can afford to have maids while juggling work? Making herself out to be the role model of Singaporean women… yucks. I sure as hell will not take her as my role model. Claire Chiang, former NMP and head of Banyan Tree Resorts, maybe. At least she was honest about needing three maids to deal with household affairs and her kids, and not make out to be like a know-it-all do-it-all superwoman. But sure as hell not Lim Hwee Hwa. And at least one other man feels the same way. Like what Kaffein-nated says oh so aptly, he does NOT wish for her to be a role model for his wife, and BE HUMBLE.

The day you truly juggle your kids, housework, managing a household, cook, monitor their studies and manage a full time career all by YOURSELF and without maids/ help from anyone else, then you talk ok? And I’ll respect that. Till then, SHUT UP. And for the record, I DO.

And the ridiculous scale of ministerial salaries is still existing… no, the last I heard they are looking to increase the salaries. Unbelievable.

No, no life is simply too short for all these nonsense and angst and talking. You could 1) be like the wonderful people of Talkingcock and be satirical about it, humour does make it a little less painful.. (Check this out! It’s hilarious and full of sly insinuations and puns…)

Or 2) you could write astutely, thoughtfully and passionately (I use the word loosely for Rockson’s case, hah!) about issues but realise that there is nothing you could do about it anyway, and decide to stop.

Or 3) you could continue to write with angst, whine, complain, bitch, whatever. And I am just so sick of the bickering and sniping between bloggers or blogsites.

Or 4) So, what is a helpless Singaporean to do, after realizing that all that talking, blogging, anger and disappointment will not do a thing to tip the scales in your favour?

You could migrate to fairer pastures.

The grass always looks greener on the other side, you may say.

But at least you can decide which field to go to and whether you want to eat the grass.

Choices, exercise of thought and freedom, possibly very foreign concepts to the good people of Singapore.

Or the last option:

5. You can stay for the country you love, for the people you love, for the memories, for the culture, for the passion and trudge on.

I am definitely not one, by anybody’s standards. I can eat at hawker centres or coffeeshops. I love “tai pai” stalls (roadside stalls). I love local hawker fare as much as I love the fine french cuisine of Le Jardin.

I don’t believe in a full designer wardrobe or couture, and neither can I afford to. Instead, I prefer high street brands like Zara, Mango, Bebe, Topshop and Dorothy Perkins; and the quirky labels from one off shops in Bangkok and Hong Kong. However I do have an incurable weakness for designer bags and shoes, particularly leather totes and three inch killers. I love Cartier and Omega watches, preferably with diamonds. And I do so love diamonds. Am wildly allergic to zirconia. It’s a dirty word in my dictionary.

As for friends, I only have a handful. No, I can count them on one hand, that’s pushing it already. Clearly I believe in quality and not quantity. Sometimes I think I am a little anti-social, preferring to be alone most of the times. And I have a very wide personal space; I hate crowds and people touching me on public transport, especially when there is ample space to move. I am fiercely loyal to my friends and I expect the same in return. Only two things I cannot forgive and that is; tittering behind my back (that means you CAN bitch to my face, I’d appreciate that more) and betrayal.

I had a best friend of twelve years (since age 4!) and she threw it all away for a man. She stole my very first boyfriend, can you believe it. Needless to say, I axed both dead weights out of my life. Goodness if you have friends like that, who needs enemies? I don’t forgive. Yes, that’s a sin, but whatever. And the sweetest thing in this mini saga was that I met him again when I was flying and looking the most fabulous ever (read: size 8 and young, hah!) and he was wriggling back into my life. Be it suffice to say that I milked him nicely of expensive fancy dinners, designer bags and shoes, ridiculously expensive concert tickets, then told him “it’s not working out darling”. Ah, revenge is evil… but sweet. As for said ex best friend, the last I heard was she was rapidly being known as someone who can be had for a song. A note, rather. Not that I care.

As for reading material, I really prefer writers like Murakami, Philip Roth, Naomi Wolf and Zadie Smith to the likes of Nora Roberts and Victoria Holt. You get the drift. I do so not like romance or girly novels. But having said that, I did vastly enjoy Lauren Weisberger’s The Devil Wears Prada but only because it centres mainly on fashion.. I tried the Shopaholic series by Sophie Kinsella. No offense to her fans, but I was extremely irritated by the unbelievably bimbotic ways and stupidity of her protagonist. So, I guess I am a little of a book snob. Well, life’s really too short for bad books…

And crass people do so get on my nerves! Just the other day at the Wheelock Nokia care centre where I brought my N70 to be diagnosed, there was this Indian man who looked very pleasant and educated. That is, until he opened his mouth. And oh boy, was it foul. The poor customer service girl was berated with the harshest words which she definitely did not deserve. The air was thick with sentences like ” Your two hours are not the same worth of my two hours”, “Why do I have to come at least once a week to see your face” and the clincher, “You are not in charge of Nokia. You are only working for them and at a minion level too. Get your manager to see me now!”

And he had the cheek to turn to me and smile! The nerve! What, did he think that I would be impressed by his “fluent” outburst? I shot him a glacier stare, and that’s that.

Yes, I could be a snob to such people. And speaking of a foul mouth, I am reminded by this person I know. Actually I was warned by several friends that she “has a stinking mouth”. But I always believe in making my own decisions and in not pre-judging people before giving a chance to disprove any rumour, so I did go out with her on a group social occasion. And foul mouth she has. The entire evening had her sniping, gossiping snarkily and making negative remarks about all and sundry. Don’t get me wrong, I am not against the occasional bitching and sniping that is soooo good for the soul. But, to deliberately suss out others’ faults and gloat over them, and to constantly harp on negativities… That’s really too off putting for me. Didn’t your mum teach you?

IF YOU HAVE NOTHING GOOD TO SAY, SOMETIMES IT’S BETTER TO JUST ZIP IT.

So yes, I am a bit of a snob too when it comes to friends. None of that Ms Popularity for me where you have friends everywhere and everyone’s your best friend. No sirree. Life’s too short for such nonsense.

Oh, I am also a bit of a snob when it comes to education. I believe that Ivy League colleges are superior to our local university. I believe that getting an education overseas that nurtures forces you to think, rather than the moddly spoonfeeding “only one answer is correct” style of teaching here. I also found that 9 out of 10 of every NUS graduate that I have met in the course of my work for the past twelve years are unresourceful, uninspired and sadly dependent creatures. So, if you are that 1 person, don’t get too fidgety ok? You should be very proud, as all 9 of your fellow cohort are idiots.

I also cannot stand sad stupid people who feel the need to assert their superiority in pouring liquor down their throats. What, very gung ho and macho is it? Why waste good liquor and pollute the air further with your cigarette smoke and the nonsense you sprout when dead drunk? Slow poisoning is sooo boring, and you burden the people when you get liver cancer and start begging for charity.. Best to buy a bottle of bleach and get it over and done with. But don’t die in inconvenient places, like MRT stations, bus stops or what nots ok? Go to some quiet corner where you will not be missed.

Don’t get me wrong again, I love my Irish cream, my champagne and my red wine. But I do so like to take it at a slow pace… and enjoy the taste and the relaxation, as opposed to raucously downing said liquor and announcing to the whole world “Hey, I am drinking! I am doing a bottoms-up!” *rolls eyes* (think of the ah bengs shouting, “tah ah!!!” *shudder*)

Same goes for sad sad men who feel emasculated without a trophy model on their arms or a trophy car in the parking lot. Why, feel like a wimp without a sports car to validate your worth is it? It’s so sad! No, it’s not sad, it’s amusing.

Same for braggarts who looooooove to brag about their culinary/ whatever/ insert boring activity skills or riches to people like me who really really don’t care. A most recent example: a fellow colleague who also joined as a PA, felt very strongly validated to let me know within the first hour of our acquaintance, the amount of S$12,000 she spent on her wedding photography and wedding dresses (all 12 of them and custom made), her husband loves to buy diamonds and designer watches for her, they have a condo somewhere in the east of Singapore and her husband dotes on her so much that he must drive her to and from work. It’s all good and merry…. But… HOW SO IS IT ANY OF MY BUSINESS?!

I would normally ignore such people but seeing as such that I cannot for this case in the context of work, I keep it simple and professional with her. I try to cut her off gently when she starts, with the pretext (and sometimes genuine!) of urgent work to be done.

Having said all that, I am not and can never be, a snob to others who are not on par in terms of economic comfort. In my last trip to Bangkok, I was very deeply affected by women begging by the roadside with their young daughters. One in particular, looked as young as Geanyne and my heart really went out to her. And she was so obedient too, just standing patiently beside her mother on the road. The first thing I thought of was, why is the mother not working?! But the very next second, it struck me that not everyone is as blessed as I am to have received an education, or even have the “luxury” of a job. The little girl may not, and most probably will not have the luxury of an education and may have to walk in the path of her mother’s life, or much worse. Then I felt the futility of it all and couldn’t help but tear up. I still do, every now and then when I think of that little girl standing by the road, it’s like her small self against the whole world.

Anyway, I hate talking and no action, so we’ve agreed that for our next trip back there, we are going to buy some stuff for her, that is, if she’s still there. You can’t save them all, but at least you can make a difference, no matter how small, in one little life.

Knowing how much I love things of simple chic, this beauty made me fall in love.

Where can I buy these besides Amazon…

****

This baby is also a stunner. Please feel free to ignore the model. She has hair that even my grand aunt wouldn’t be caught in. I could just see myself wearing this and accessorizing it with the Chanel 2.55 and red Christian Louboutin stilettos for a hot night out with the darling man. Ooh, sizzling hot!

One thing I don’t get about the fashion industry is the incontrollable urge to use models who are stick thin and have no curves whatsoever. Come on, this dress clearly requires one with enough bosom to fill it out, for chrissake! Picture Marilyn Monroe in this.. you don’t get women like that anymore.. *nostalgia kicking in* *** Metallics have also been in for the last few seasons and they are another trend that don’t catch on with me. I don’t follow fashion blindly; think leggings/ bubble hems/ boxy dresses etc. *shudder*

In fact, I’d be hard pressed to define my style as strictly classic or romantic. I think I am more like a juxtaposition of classic/ simple chic/ sexy sophistication.

I could wear a white shirt (but never the usual boring style, more likely a corset style, think Bebe) and a black pencil gaberdine skirt and accessorize it with my red skinny belt, big black pearls and black patent peeptoe heels. Or a blood red tube dress with black shrug and my darling black knee length calf leather boots and ponyhair/ red giraffe pendant (both of which my darling splurged on for me)

Of course, working in the straitlaced banking and finance industry, I never had a chance to exercise my fashion creativity… until now. I absolutely love going to work every day now… it’s like creative licence for fashion interpretation!

It’s truly unforgivable. It’s been TWO WHOLE MONTHS since I last blogged! No wonder my readership is dwindling down to nothing.

But a new year, a fresh start. I wish all my readers (yes, all 2.3 left of you) a very Happy New Year and all your resolutions/ wishes/ lahlahlah come true.

It’s been a fantastic 2006 for me. Lost some major baggage, went through major trauma and emerged a much stronger person. Also, got to know a certain someone who is xxx and xxx (hey, this is family-friendly blog, ok!) I’d like to think it’s all good. And as always, even though I am so undeserving, missed church worship, forgot to pray or say grace, God had been and is always good to me. Many an incident I could think of where things could have gone wrong on that very brink but they did not. He kept my girls in good hands; they may be very naughty girls but they have a good heart and love their mummy and that’s all that matters.

I opened 2007 with so much fun! Went to Bangkok for a most fabulous buying trip and I also stuffed my face so much it’s a surprise to me I am not back to size 16. And speaking of size, am feeling humongously FAT as have started work in the cattiest most fantabulous, airkissing, backstabbing industry……*drumroll*…………the fashion industry! Am absolutely thrilled when I got the “job that a million girls would die for”. Hah, that is so “Devil wears Prada” I know and I should know, I absolutely adore the movie and the book. The wardrobe for Anne Hathaway! I would die kill for those clothes.

I had to go through three rounds of interviews (ok, not the most as went through 5 rounds for SQ..) but the anxiety! The anticipation! and I even had to go through a freaking test with the big man himself (which I obviously passed… and then… I got it!!!!! Plus a 6% increment… I am the happiest woman alive. Hahaha evidently it does not take the moon and the stars to make me happy.

And my boss is truly Miranda Priestley in the flesh. No, he is more Italian (read: temper and tantrums in the highest order, thankfully not towards me though) and more demanding (number crunching for a turnover and pl extrapolation report, and an urgent presentation report; both to be done NOW) and more impatient (how long do I have wait for him, Rachel can you tell him I need it NOW) than Miranda could ever be.

So far, I have my little ways of pacifying him when he flies off the handle. Not in that way ok, as I think sleeping or flirting with the boss is the lowest you could go as a personal assistant. *shudder* Although he does call me “my dear” and I do “manja” a bit. Let’s just say that I have my little ways ok? *winks*

I also had to totally revamp my wardrobe. Jacket suits are so NOT the way to go. I wore one of my usual banking and finance uniforms (one out of the 13,245 suits I have) and this stylish creature in accessories licensing department went “office attire?” while wrinkling his chiselled nose. Hahahaha. Just love his cutting sarcasm and sense of humour and yes, he IS gay (so cliched hah!). So yes, I had to do a major haul of the wardrobe, which is not exactly unwelcoming anyway. Another excuse for more shopping! And did I mention that I get a dressing allowance…. *swoon* *sigh*

OK snapping out of my bimbotic state of mind, I want to talk about something else that displeased me. I have always believed in being nice and gracious to service staff, and that runs the gamut from retail people to cab drivers. Thus, when I am being trampled upon due to my good nature, that’s when my cattiness and razor sarcasm take over. My darling boss does not have the habit of keeping his credit card bills. So when the bill arrives and I have to do the expense reports for him, that’s when the stuffy accounts people give me problems. As one track minded people, they MUST have the bill receipt and they MUST have ALL the black and white documentations. *rolls eyes* So, a call to the said restaurant is in place. To cut a long story short, their accounts girl claimed that she could not find the receipt or billing history of the information I gave her. I gave her three days to find it but she does not return my calls, as she must think I am this nice PA who is a doormat.

That is the very moment I stopped being nice and told her that if I don’t get it by 5pm of that day, I will void the bill and make a complaint to Amex for fraudulent billing.

And I did get it by 5pm that day.

Another incident: I was on the line in my office room when this creature decides to just saunter in without knocking and just started interrupting my phone conversation! The nerve! Again, I shed my usual nice demeanor and shot a glacier stare her way. With the requisite raised eyebrow. She got the message and scooted out.

Tell me, is being bitchy the only way to get things done these days? Probably in the context of Singapore? and especially so if you are dealing with people in the civil service. It’s an oxymoron because you end up being very uncivil when you decide that waiting two weeks to one month for a simple approval is simply not acceptable for a “First Class government and its organization”. Talk about being world class standards. Shall not elaborate more on this as certain details are classified. Be it suffice to say that I am so not impressed with work flow and organizational style of the government agencies.

On a sidenote, I do like Sulian Tan though. If you are wondering, who ON EARTH is this sulian creature, please, you need to read more besides my illustrious blog. She is the Director, Service Quality of Singapore Tourism Board, with whom we work closely due to the retail/ tourism relationship. She is fabulously stylish and rich (of course) and she is very intelligent, an anomaly to the usual government body people. And I met quite a few tai tais, as they are personal friends of my boss and some of them are really nice and humble ladies, quite contrary to public opinion. Of course, there are always a handful who think they are too snooty to talk to mere PAs like myself, but honestly, what do they possess besides a stick thin figure and a rich husband? Nothing, zilch. Put them out to pasture to earn their own living, they will perish in less than 24 hours.

So, as you can see, I am trying to explain (to a certain extent) why I had not been able to update my blog as frequently as I did, though I do solemnly promise that all this will change, as I just got a new zippy little laptop and mobile broadband connection. That means, I can blog at home too! Dumped my home pc as it has finally breathed it last breath and went to pc heaven. Really so much has been happening in my life that I feel it’s been a whirlwind of blessings and excitement.

Just last weekend, we went for a getaway weekend trip to Turi Resort with the kids and had tonnes of fun. It’s not exactly cheap as everything is in Singapore dollars (it’s truly a Singapore colony there) but to chill out and do nothing except eat and swim and eat some more is truly bliss. Managed to steal some time with Germaine alone as we went for walks along the beach and out to the pier bridge, and did a spot of sand drooling and shell collecting.

It’s truly all good.

Of course, there are bits that are not so pleasant in my life, like toxic people whom I weed out, and the ex husband who still tries to “get back together”. But my memory weeds out this out and chooses to retain only the beautiful memories.

This week I will not be so busy at work, as my Miranda is out of town in Paris for Fashion week (the lucky beast! so might be able to blog at work too… Normally IMPOSSIBLE to do anything else when he is in town as with the work I have to do for him, the coffees I have to brew for him, the errands I need to run for him, it’s a surprise I even have time for a toilet or coffee break. No more leisurely lattes in the morning as in my previous jobs in banking and finance!

But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

OK yesterday I was good.

Only bought two 50s looking shrugs in walnut brown (versatile colour) and dramatic blood red (which is like, my favourite colour now), three bottles of Nubar nail polish, which I love for its quick drying and lasting quality) and a caramel swing dress with white polka dots with V neck wrap front.

I really have to buy a black tube (mine died on me, the elastic couldn’t take the weight of the two tyrants anymore, hah!) for the Marciano halter neck ruffled black blouse I bought the other day. It’s really gorgeous… just that as usual I could not button the top four buttons and the next bigger size is floating around on my waist.

So, the hunt for the perfect black tube that will not make a dumpling out of my bosom continues…