Sometimes I can’t begin to articulate how disgusted I am by cattiness, envy or jealousy that I sense in some women. (Yes, women. The men probably go, good for you! And move on.)

For example, they read my post about the ring Big gave me, promptly skim past my joy, happiness and feelings of blessedness, take away everything that is beautiful about the post, and manifest it as ugliness. There are those who question Big about how much he paid for it, is it fake, is it cubic zirconia (oh how my palms itch!) etc. Would it make you feel better if he told you it was whatever you wish it to be?

And what’s the fascination with my or his salary? How so does it affect you how much moolah we are pulling in? He and I can afford our indulgences like my shopping, my walk in wardrobe, his gadgets, our new house, my jewellery, whatever, thank you very much. Whatever I blog about, it’s pretty much what I am comfortable with my general readers knowing. If it is not on my or his blog, please have the courtesy of not querying us about such intimate or personal details. If you are a close friend, you would have known without being such a nosyparker. If you are not, well, you are not.

And if your purpose of knowing is to live up with the Joneses and for the sake of comparison, here’s a few things to note.

We are hardly the Joneses, or the yardstick to measure up to. We are just simple folks with a few select indulgences and pleasures in life. There is no need to match us/ me in everything we do. It freaks me out a little ala Single White Female style.

Why the need to compare or to live beyond your means? If you can afford a certain lifestyle, you can. If you can’t, you can’t. I am just being very pragmatic about these things. Why ask about things that are out of reach and make yourself miserable? And if you are living a lifestyle that you can’t afford, struggling to make ends meet every month, well it’s your choice or no one else’s. And if you are living a lifestyle you can well afford, we are not the kind of folks you should be comparing to.

Some might call it human nature for humans to be envious/ jealous or covetious, I will beg to differ. I don’t bother to be envious or jealous about others’ possession. Simply because if I want something, I work towards it. What the hell is there to be envious/ jealous of? And pardon me if I sound harsh but you are the type to be envious or jealous just because I seemingly shop all the time (I DON’T), seemingly have good things in life all the time (there is something called hard work), you will be forever the envious and jealous one pining after others’ lives and achievements because you are simply too busy indulging in negative time wasting emotions, instead of working your way there.

And then there are those who simply cannot stomach the idea of others being headhunted or getting a better package. If you had felt catty or jealous about anyone reaching a certain milestone in life, you are a loser. That’s right. I am of the belief that people who are jealous of other people’s achievements and waste time continuing being so are losers. But if you had felt spurred on or encouraged by what the person had achieved, then KUDOS and more power to you.

And a bit of common sense here. If it pains you/ embitters you/ fills you with so much ugliness when you read my blog, which is my shrine of happy memories, please stop reading my blog. It makes me hold my hand when I want to blog sometimes, and this kind of nonsense pisses me off.

Really.

I don’t need people like that to feed off my blog and make everything about it that is beautiful, ugly.

So, I reiterate. This is a blog that contains my happy memories, where I make good of things in my life, make lemonade out of lemons that life deals me. In short, it is a HAPPY place. If you find that this blog makes you 1. envious 2. jealous 3. angry (?!) 4. sad (?!!) 5. any other negative emotion, I don’t need to tell you again..

I am tired like a dog, no, worse than a log.. and this entry is going to be super short. The new place has turned out to be much more gorgeous, and sleeker than we had visualized and we can’t be happier campers.

There is much more to be done though and already, I have to remind myself not to love this place too much as we are moving again in another 18 months!

Such “exciting” lives we lead.

So we packed the kids off to swim/soccer camp. June and December are months where the equivalent amount of a third world country’s GDP is spent on camps, holiday activities and what nots for the children. This June we are not going away on a long holiday… as… we will be moving to a new place.

The.packing.and.moving.is.stressing.me.out.

I don’t know about you, but I hate moving. Sure, I love the moving to a bigger and nicer place part, but I dread the packing, wrapping, labelling, unpacking and sorting. It’s only with the finished unpacking and sorting out, and when everything is neat and organized again, that I breathe easier. Woe is the Type A personality.

Anyway, the new place is all spiffed up and chemically cleaned and all ready for new memories. What I love about the place is that it is a quiet, serene and scenic environment and most importantly, it is very child friendly. Lots of space and paths for the children to ride their bicycles and roller blade, three pools, BBQ pits, basketball court, tennis courts and a clean, cushioned playground. And for the claustrophobic me, there are only four families on each floor and our neighbours seem quiet and peaceful during the few times we went. Happyness is me.

And hmm, no, wedding bells are not ringing; we are happy the way we are now. I am not commitment phobic or anything like that. We have a healthy happy monogamous relationship together, and we don’t need a paper or a ring to seal the deal (I can hear him protesting already :P). The real deal is, I am still having issues. Of course it is no fault of his at all, and there is nothing he can do more (already as it is, he is treating me like a Queen and Empress Dowager juxtaposed). But as it already is, I have done the move in together thing. So, a step at a time..

And I am happy. I guess it sounds very corny and disgusting even, but we are soulmates. Like, really. We can talk about anything and everything and most importantly, we agree in terms of values, principles and beliefs. In personality, we are different, but we complement each other in our difference. What is uncanny is that, he always seems to know what I am thinking. One expression, one gesture or one look, he can guess what I am thinking or what I am going to say. It’s quite freaky sometimes.

The parents approve of him too (and if I might say, my mum adores him *rolls eyes*) Even my aunt, who is a tough broad to win over, think he’s the bee’s knees, one of the reasons being that he gave me a very pretty bangle for Mother’s Day which made everyone go awwwww *rolls eyes again*. And everyone seems to think that I “bully” him (FALSE) and that he spoils me rotten (ok, true). I AM STATING FOR THE RECORD THAT I AM A VERY DOCILE WOMAN AND NEVER EVAR BULLY MY MAN. *glares* *smiles sweetly*

And so, since we have already established that I can’t go back to my “niang jia” should we ever have our first quarrel (I think my parents will call him and rat on me), I decided that my only comfort is to

.

.

.

finally have my own walk in wardrobe!!! *happy dance*

.

.

.

Yeah, totally unrelated, but there you go. Now you know why even I think I bully him sometimes I think he spoils me rotten. I think it started when we went for the Sex and the City movie and when Mr Big opened the door to Carrie’s new walk in wardrobe and my hand involuntarily flew to my mouth and my eyes even watered slightly, that he decided that, yes, one room in the new house shall be converted into my new walk in wardrobe.

And so, it sounds really disgusting but I am really happy (I know I’ve said this a thousand times, but I really am!) The children are healthy, well-adjusted and good kids. My own health has improved by leaps and bounds, thanks to a better job, investing in food supplements and dancing (and of course, with Big being a big help). On the job front, it’s not as crazy as before and they are fully sponsoring me for my studies (which means more online shopping I have more liquidity). It is not as stressful as before, and yet the package is much better, and for that I feel very blessed and thankful. I have the financial freedom to do whatever I want, and to give my children whatever I think is good for them. I have fun during the weekends doing bellydance (and if I might quote my coach, am pretty sinuous and graceful at it! :D) The shop is also doing very well, and I had even been featured in Vanilla. I am still as fat as ever and I can’t complain or whine about it as I stuff my face merrily as they come.. But I think I don’t look half bad and am proud that I am well groomed and carry myself well. Of course it helps that despite the fat face (and everything else, hah!) the man still thinks I am this Venus or Aphrodite or something. He is, of course deeply prejudiced, but tis a good thing for me.

So really, it’s all good in my life. Of course, it helps that I choose not to think about the small little things that make me angry or upset, and sweep those out of my mind as fast as I can. People or things that are toxic to our lives, or who try to ruin the happiness we work so hard for, I mentally eliminate them swiftly and completely. It is rather ruthless to a certain extent, but hey, life is short you know. And God knows I have been through enough unhappiness and hardship to last me several lifetimes.

So. Make a choice. BE HAPPY.

**

PS: We went to Ikea just now to shop for new furniture, and as usual, we did our ogle and share act. He tells me when he spots a gorgeous or busty babe, and I do so similarly. And of course we giggle a little (ok, I giggled a little) at those whose fashion sense are hmm a little skewed (I am being very kind here). Something along the lines of this. And then we popped over to Anchorpoint where I picked up a superly gorgeous Banana Republic eyelet wrap blouse at freaking S$25 (!!!!!!!) which retail price is S$189 (!!!!!!!) and which size tag reads XS (!!!!!) you can imagine my shallow euphoria. LOL. Don’t get me started about my spoils at Flea.Fly.Flo.Fun on Saturday, shopping from Target, Victoria’s Secret, Silk Naturals, TSS, Lumiere, La Senza ..ok I should really shaddap.. (next post, I promise).

And of course we had to go to the Hong Kong Cafe on the first floor to pig out on sinful comfort food and drinks like Egg Noodles with Luncheon Meat and Fried Egg, Iced Macau Coffee and Iced “Yuan Yang”. I think I laughed a little too much by acting out my “please don’t leave me, I really want to have this baby” act. Yes, we I have sadistic fun by acting out impossibly drama situations and laughing till we tear.

Don’t ask.

And hor, someone was very thick skinned ok.. We applied for the Hong Kong Cafe card which cost $30, and which came with $25 worth of vouchers, 10% discount with every visit, a one for one coupon and a free drink (Hahaha, very auntie right?! LOL) Then this someone went and filled in “married with kids” wor..

Ahem. AHEM.

Yes I know. It is going to be launched here soon and people are waiting with baited breath and excitement. Some, I heard, have even booked their phones!

I am feeling nothing but increasing sadness and irritation (for Apple lah, not the people buying).

Very soon, everyone is going to be carrying the same phone when it is launched. I hate that (yes, very nb of me). I am using the iphone now and apart from the fact that it is a truly gorgeous gadget, I also adore it because you don’t see it everywhere. In other words, there is a certain exclusivity and I am the kind of person who don’t like mass market clothes, accessories, jewellery, gadgets, mass anything. That’s why I only bring in a limited amount of quantities for my clothing site, and that’s why I seldom buy mainstream labels and prefer to shop from exclusive or overseas sites and vintage stores.

So, I am getting very upset as the whole world and their grandma is getting an iphone with the impending launch.

I might just use an old school 大哥大just to be “individualistic”. LOL.

Yesterday Big and I went to the coffeeshop in Geylang Lorong 3 for Claypot Frog Legs Porridge and Sambal Potato Leaves. It was good. But sorry, I forgot to take pictures because I was too busy stuffing my face while looking around at hostesses being “bao” out by their customers for dinner/ supper.

And a certain someone ever told me that the first time she saw me, she was struck by how much I look like a mamasan. I hope she meant I look like a filthy rich woman.

But back to what I was distracted by.

I always wondered how a woman can work in that kind of environment, where woman’s rights go right out the window, and be fair game for any Tom, Dick or Harry. I am not being snobbish or judgmental here; if one wants to earn money by sleeping around, it’s certainly no business of mine. But I wonder. I wonder how on earth can she bear to be groped every night by any Tom, Dick or Harry who has some dollars, never mind how he looks. *shudders* I can’t bear to think of it. I feel irritated even when people brush up against me, much less dare to grope me.

But looking from the article, mamasans these days seem to be *gasp* like working professionals. They “speak English”, they are “young, well-educated and articulate”.

I think I can see myself being a mamasan. I am an evil capitalist and would be a great advocate of making use of others’ assets to earn money for self. So yes, you, you and you go sit with Mr Piggy Boss, while you and you go and entertain those nasty humsup Japanese men over there.

Bwahahahahaa!!!! Wasted talent!!

Don’t know what’s up this week, but it’s just been ridiculous.

On Monday, I scolded a Korean man in the office lift for staring at my chest. It was not a look, not a glance, but a very prolonged STARE. And in case, you are thinking I was proudly showcasing them in some cleavage flaunting top, I was in a button down business shirt buttoned to the collar bone. And that ass had the audacity to smile after I told him off. I think the idiot probably did not understand English (not highly possible, as expatriate Koreans here speak passable English). In any case, I don’t suffer fools or idiots. And too bad I didn’t take any pictures of myself in the shirt I wore. You would agree with me that it is so ridiculous and desperate of this idiot to stare.

On Wednesday, when I walked to Circular Road to meet Big for lunch (yeah, we are that kind of couple, see each other everyday, still not enough, must meet for lunch too. *snigger*), this dude (Chinese, mid 30s or so) stopped me (tapped me actually, cos I was listening to music on my iphone) and asked for freaking directions to dunno what atm. I told him I didn’t know, put back my earphones and walked on. He tagged along and continued talking to me about dunno what where I am going for lunch, why alone and that shit. I pretended I couldn’t hear him due to the music and walked on. Another idiot. I was wearing this:

Picture taken as part of my Doing the Karen Cheng project. Demure white Zara shell and Knit linen shrug (known to induce idiotic pick up lines, apparently)

Today, I am wearing my Nonya kebaya top with Zara inner shell and dark jeans

After coming back from lunch, I saw the same freaking Korean idiot man going into the lift. I ignored him. HE FREAKING SAY HELLO TO ME!!!

See my atas face??!! Which part of my atas face says I am interested?!!!

PTUI PTUI PTUI!!!!!!!!

I have always enjoyed reading Karen’s blog for her light hearted and honest entries about her life as a stay home mum and snippets about her two boys and husband. I love how she derives joy from the little things around her. I also love perving on her pictures. LOL.

And now she has started a group on Facebook extolling the virtues of her famous Karen Cheng pose (taking pictures into the mirror, with that slight head tilt). And of course, when I got the invitation to join the group, I gladly contributed a few DTKC pics of my own..

Last Sunday we went to Jalan Berseh Food Centre for some local sinful treats. Thanks to C who very kindly shared with me about this location after she found out that I love Braised pig trotters with vinegar. Thanks C!

Yeah, Braised pig trotters with vinegar. And not any ole vinegar, mind you. For the authentic taste, only Chan Kong Chye “Bulldog” brand vinegar will do.

And ooh, was it thick and richly fragrant with vinegar. And it brings to mind good memories. There was a period of time when I could not have this without breaking down. My grandma had made this for me during my confinement, and after she passed away, I just couldn’t eat this without thinking of her. Sigh.

.

.

Yam rice which was done quite well. Very fluffy, fragrant and tasty. I used to really dislike yam rice, and always wondered why on earth my mum and grandma loved such an unpleasant tasting dish. Very strangely as years go by, I started to develop a taste for it.

.

.

Roast duck! Will you look at that sinful shine? Damn, I “hate” blogging about food. I always feel horrendously hungry, even after a meal.

.

Oh, oh, oh!!

More sinful stuff

And guess who we saw making the obligatory rounds with the obligatory orchid garland.

.

.

**

And lunch, we strolled down slowly to Sim Lim Tower where he proceeded to check out his techy stuff and I proceeded to have a splitting headache. It was not because of the lack of interest in the techy stuff, I swear. I think I might be allergic to sunlight, esp the afternoon sun. It sounds idiotic, I know, but I would always get a splitting headache when I am exposed to the afternoon sun for more than a few minutes. Very strange, I know.

In any case, I felt better by the time we got to Albert OG (retail therapy?) and I managed to get some very funky health foods like organic beetroot oatmilk, eight treasures rose tea and five grain powder. I figure that since we are such horrid hawker food fans, we had better balance out with some healthy grub.

And of course, after the purchase of such virtuous foods, we figured it wouldn’t hurt all that much to indulge a teensy weensy more..

Homemade Pumpkin Cake. It’s really to die for.

Popiah!

And that’s not all. Every Sunday, we’ve been making it a point to go out on our “few-hours-couply-dates” when the kids are having class. And apart from exploring the museums, going for walks etc, we have been having fun trying the different hi teas in town. Shall post the pics of that when I can bring myself to take pics in a nice posh environment. I really don’t know how the food bloggers can do it, especially in a Michelin restaurant or in a fine dining establishment. It already seems rather gauche in a hotel setting.

And as you can see, I have no problems taking pictures merrily away in hawker centres, coffee shops or little eateries. Not being a snob, but it’s just something that holds me back otherwise.

Watched this with the kids on Saturday.. Was quite funny. Good family entertainment and comes with the usual feel good values (good guys win, hard work will reap great rewards etc.) I like movies where xie bu sheng zheng. Yeah, yeah, fuddy duddy.

Yeah, I guess we will catch this too. Ah, it’s easy to earn parents’ money. LOL.

Yeah, Gean is all pink, as usual. This one is denitely much more “gu niang” than the jiejie.

Gean trying to look kungfu-ish but still hopelessly “gu niang”! LOL!!

People kept thinking Ger is a boy. I don’t blame them.. Sigh, don’t know how to “feminize” this girl of mine.

The vainpot mum. Details for fellow vainpots: Zara white sun dress and the custom made black/ white shrug from Turkey.

Seriously, people like these should be censored from parenthood. I am the last person to dare claim to be a perfect mum, but…. SERIOUSLY. Idiots should not be allowed to propagate.