Minibean wanna say something! Last week, I saw a random tweet which mentioned a contest and took a peek at it. I saw the number of participants and then thought the site was not quite getting any success through social media, neither much through other medium, if any. I saw the content of the contest and I was reminded of some day in mid 2008, and it wasn’t long before I found this cute little picture of Minibean. I saw the prizes of the contest and admittedly was attracted to them. Top 3 prizes and consolation prizes all cameras! Even consolation I also very happy! It wasn’t more than once last week when I had lamented how much I need to get myself a new camera cos the Canon Ixus was dying on me (can’t take with manual mode, somehow), and my 450D which had meant something to me, had long died-ed on me and since warranty was long passed, I was pretty worried how much the cost was going to turn out. So I put everything together, and was wondering whether to submit Minibean’s picture or a picture of *cough, shameless, cough* myself for the contest, in which Converse loves your smile. I decided I was too shy to post up mine, and decided on Minibean’s instead. I submitted but didn’t see Minibean’s picture for a couple of days, and decided the website was probably a dud. Today, I surfed in again and saw that it was finally up! Then I voted for myself. I secretly told someone about my cheapo-ness, and asked if it would be very shameless for me to pimp for votes, cos I used to find it quite turn-offish when I have MSN messages from people who would only message me when they need votes to be Mr Potato Chips with some badly photoshopped old-school saloon portraits or contests of such nature. Then between those few friends which my image had been tarnished beyond hope (so no fear of revealing my maturity in auntiedom), I started asking them to take a look, and told them they could vote, or they could also take part since there was only 5 participants, and there were 6 prizes to be won! I then went on to busy myself for the day, and at the end of the day, realised all my friends know no shame! They went all out to pimp the site on all the social media outlets they could (MSN, facebook, Plurk, Twitter), and before I knew it, they probably double the site’s visit with their influence. I think the gang bros out there wanna call for reinforcement (diao zui) also not so fast! Converse, if you need help with social media, we will be glad to be here for you. I am sure my contact can be spotted, giggles. Since my friends know no shame, this is for all of you who had… helped to pimp, and helped to vote. Minibean has something to say! I also don’t know what to say. I am grateful in the slightly emo way because I know it might not be a big help but then still people went out their way. Like, totally out of my expectations. And since my friends know no shame, my shamelessness shall know no boundaries too (since you guys would probably always like to say how shameless I am but ahem, it is so. not. true. I. insist. -bats eyelashes-) Here is the site, and you could take a look at my entry of Minibean’s picture here. Now I wonder if I should take my shamelessness to next level… and post my picture up…. maybe I should just post here for fun, when I find the dormant hiaoness in me. And I would encourage you guys to take part too, but leave at least consolation for me to win (I NEED A NEW CAMERA DESPERATELY, REMEMBER?! *emotional blackmail* Or else no pictures to post on this boring space of mine!), okay? The Expendables Thursday saw Minibean heading to Malacca in the morning, means the “handover” was done on late Wednesday evening. It begun 3 days of recuperating period, which I repaid all those sleep debts with plenty of quality rest. I woke up no earlier than 4pm for Thursday, Friday, and today. Which was also aided by the cough mixture, the bout of cold I got from Minibean, PMS on Thursday, and blood loss for these 2 days. I had the longest PMS EVER as my hormones went haywire. Nonetheless, it didn’t stop me from having quite some fruitful days, and it is just great to know that I will be all geared by Monday. *** Eileen dropped by on Thursday after her work to pass me 3 tickets to the zoo. Did I ever mention how blessed I am to be constantly surrounded by people who are such blessings. It was good to see my airbrush teacher, Dave, after so long. *** Nick then popped by so we could head down to an photography exhibition nearby, and knowing I did not have any food prior, he actually packed some home-cooked food for me, and it was even accompanied by lotus root soup! Sweetest meal ever. Honestly I was very touched as I munchmunchmunched at the foyer and gobbled most of it up before I made a mad dash to Jurong Point to get some tickets to watch The Expendables! We swiftly headed to Jurong Library for the exhibition (which marked my virgin trip to the library in eons!) and we bumped into Marco, and I invited him to join us for dinner at Jurong Point’s Hong Kong cafe. Dinner was short, but it was cosy to just sit around with the boys to catch up before we all rushed for the movie which I was eagerly anticipating! *** SPOILERS ALERT The boys were hyped after the show, so did I, and that pretty much sums up how The Expendables will send the testosterone and adrenalin into overdrive. I am aware about the mixed reviews out there, but honestly, HOW CAN ANYONE MISS SUCH AN AWESOME ENSEMBLE?! It was charged with actions, raining bullets, packed to the brim with nostalgia, and graced by all the biggest action legends. And judge me all you want, it is my first ever Sylvester Stallone movie. Yes. First. Ahem. If you guys are saying this guy is washed up, I better go dig up all those old movies and feed my movies trivia bank, cos boy, those fucking muscles! THAT GUY IS FREAKING RIPPED FOR HIS AGE! And his sense of humour and that slanted smile was probably passe, but I am all for nostalgia, and I bought it all. And yes, it too, is my FIRST EVER Jason Statham movie. What can I say? I had missed this good piece of sex for most part of my life, and I don’t know what Kelly Brook was thinking (if only her boobs could think!), but gee, I would have bald babies with this hottie anytime, anywhere, anyhow! And you got see how protective he was of his chick in the movie or not?!?!?!?!?! Awesomely MAN, I tell ya. And the way he flicked his knives. Scorching. The plot is probably as thin as Jason Statham’s hair for serious movies go-ers, but this movie is like a history you wouldn’t want to miss revisiting, and for that familiarity and old-school actions (CGI or body double free!).. it is enough to get your raring for more. I have to admit I totally go into fangirl mode when Arnie walked into the church like some holy action hero figure, cos one of the very first movies I ever watched, was Terminator 2, and it was one of the 2 LDs I had at home (besides Top Gun) that I kept replaying over and over. I bloody cried when I was a young girl watching Terminator 2 okay?! And it would also mean it was one of the 3 movies I ever watched with my parents. Anyway. I gasped. I squealed. And I swooned. I didn’t get the joke when everyone laughed at Bruce Willis’ appearance, and when everyone laughed louder when Arnold Schwarzenegger (one thing I have always been proud of, I can spell his name since primary school!) made his grand entrance, but I certainly enjoyed the time when everyone broke into applause when Arnie concluded his cameo with Stallone’s punchline. But the highlight of the movie gotta be Mickey Rourke. I have been wanting to catch The Wrestler for the longest time but I have yet to done so, and his screen time on The Expendables is definitely a motivation for me to watch it by next week. This man bloody stole the show, and deservingly so. The scene of him having a conversation with Sly, it was a shot of his reflection, and an emotional monologue delivered by him flawlessly.. with his lips trembling and his voice quivering. It slowed the movie almost to a standstill, you almost forgot why you were in the theatre for cos you were just lost in the moment Mickey Rourke had enveloped you in. Fuck! This guy owns it, absolutely! And it was a breather very much needed in the midst of all those actions. I LOVED THE GOODIES AND BIG BOYS TERRY CREWS WHIPPED OUT! It would just go into plenty of mindless explosions and things blowing up. WOOOHOOOOOO! Though my impression of him still stays with how he sang “A Thousand Miles” in White Chicks. Hahaha. I SIMPLY ADORE WATCHING JET LI! Who is probably my preferred Chinese action star amongst the others (unless you count Chow Yun Fatt as an action star!), and it was plenty of funnies! I also drooled watching the giant, Dolph Lundgren, and gasped, so hot when he appeared on screen. You know what’s the awesome thing? It seems like action heroes are better at treating their women right in real life than footballers. Whenever I read about these guys in real life and how they talk about their partners.. are they perfect or what (okay, not all of them, but, gee!), and Sly was saying the moral of the story is these guys deserve to be bashed up cos of how they treat ladies?! I think this post pretty much verifies that I have plenty of testosterone in me, which probably explains the not child-friendly languages and the endless gushings for the movie, and the prehistoric big boys in it. But it is gonna be a fun movie that will get you and your friends talking about the movies in the past and the memories they used to bring… … for the nostalgia they bring? Priceless Staying close In these months, there were days I would lament to people around me how tiring it is to be have my life revolving around Minibean and not having any adult interaction which I craved badly, or the freedom to just, do my usual stuff as and when I want to. She had just made a short trip to Malacca, and had gotten another set of kebaya, this time, one she can call her own, and in her love-st  colour – purple. Something in me ticked yesterday after a long day, when it was dead in the night and I was lulling myself to sleep. Something has changed. I realised how much I didn’t want Minibean to be not here me, even for a day, and a part of me is pretty fearful about how the next 2 weeks I probably wouldn’t get to see much of her. I usually have separation anxiety from her, but it was something I got used to but this time, the separation anxiety seems to come in multiple dosages. And I am just glad that I am spending this time of her growth with her, though I am wondering I might just slip into this comfortzone and not wanting to let go what we share. You see, savings might eventually run out, and thus, I’m not being realistic about being a staying home mum. Nonetheless, I am just enjoying this journey, and I must say, in these 8 months, I probably learn so much about everything, than I ever had in a long, long while. Merlanih’s article During my pregnancy in 2006, a mum from Flying Solo got in touch with me after finding out about my predicament. She then sent an email to me and another soon-to-be-mum. That was how I got to know an amazing, impossibly sexy, intelligent, strong-willed, yet utterly delicate lady, whose EDD was probably the same as mine (obviously some day in March was quite a popular day for babies making). I have perhaps introduced her in my older post Baby Fabes last year, when her 2nd son came into this world. It has been almost 4 years, and no, I still have yet to meet the lady, whose Fifi’s is 4 days older than Minibean. I still have yet to meet the lady who had exchanged late night stories about life and babies with me.. Someday, maybe. But I think we both might find it too awkward.. cos there is just some magic in those exchanges that might not be brought forth in real life. We are both INFPs for a reason, laughs. Here, I would like to share an article from Merlanih, which was printed on Singapore Child Magazine, which I would like to share with you guys And she probably did so much more than I did, some things which are probably what I always wanted to do, but lack serious balls to do. For that, I salute such an intriguing lady, and a thoroughly dedicated mum in a foreign land. Perhaps all the stories I have heard took form as I read her article, cos it was one that touched me greatly, though simple grazing of the story might just come to a naught for most of you guys out there. Mer, Fifi and Baby Fabes would be so proud of ya when they grow up. Here’s her article: From as far back as I can remember, I have always wanted children of my own.  Now wind the clock forwards by two decades or so, and I find myself on a little Caribbean island complete with two beautiful mixed race children.  A picturesque sight, I am often told by others to my glowing pride as I watch the elder, Fidel (three going on sixteen), frolicking on the beach, throwing rocks in a puddle, his brown locks catching the sun.  Yes, he is definitely evolving into a little boy (correction: “I a beeeg boy, Mama! Mama, don’t call me Fifi, my name is Fidel, F-I-D-E-L!”); poking his fingers into every crevice, fingernails blackened from his daily escapades, sweat matting down the hair on his temples.  And such a penchant for music too; the people here have a natural, uninhibited sense of rhythm and this cannot be displayed more clearly in him.  Put on the calypso and watch him swing to the beat in true Caribbean style.  And then Fabian (nine months going on three)!  Growing increasingly confident in his wheelie walker and who, I am certain, tries his absolute best to nip your toes off each time he whizzes by at speed.  The younger definitely learns quickly from the elder: he now raises an arm with his hand clenched into a fist, ready to give you a “bops” when he meets and greets.  Yes, children nourish the soul and fill your day with laughs (“black cows have black milk”) and life would be exceedingly dull without them. What is life like in the Caribbean?  Everyone urges to know.  Yes, it is a picture perfect place under the sun, complete with colourful boats dotting the horizon and miles of pristine beaches.  No, as much as I fantasise about it, I unfortunately do not lie idle in a hammock all day, rum punch in one hand, novel in the other (In any case, it would be virtually impossible to stay in a state of placidity for long without Fidel trying to turn me out of the hammock)  And yes, work is work; I am busy trying to carve out a successful career as a barrister while trying to achieve the status of supermum and ace DIY-er at the same time.  So the moral of the story for me at least, is that life goes on wherever the set is located.  Pierce through the idyllic beauty, and there are bills to be paid, work to be done, meals to be cooked, just like anywhere else in the world.  Daily life is a hectic routine of trying to spend as much quality time with Fidel, keeping Fabian’s development in check, holding the reins over the management of the home, dedicating time to the other half and last but definitely not the least, trying to make sure that the much-needed “me-time” does not escape what little remains of the 24 hours of the day. When night falls, the little ones have finally given up their valiant struggle against sleep, even their dad is crashed out on the bed, and the house is overcome by sudden calmness.  It is always at this point that I am filled with a sense of total, peaceful bliss.  Thank you God, another fruitful day we have spent together as a family.  Thank you for the strength to overcome all our challenges, and to help us to stay together as a unit.  It is so easy for relationships to fall apart if we are not careful, and I thank You for your continuing guidance to make tomorrow an even better day for all of us. Since taking on the role of a mother, I have never ever been as busy in my life, stretched in so many different directions.  Life would no doubt have been simpler had I decided to relocate back to Singapore: the support network of family to help nurture my children; a live-in domestic helper and babysitter rolled into one who would keep house and relieve me from my household duties; better amenities to cater to my needs.  Would I then consider moving back in time for the children to be schooled in Singapore?  This is a decision which I have been pondering over, so many factors needing to be considered.  Ultimately I enjoy the relative tranquility and closeness to nature which the Caribbean offers, and I do believe that my children are benefitting from it.  Yes, there are concerns about the quality of education available.  But how does one define “education”?  Personally it boils down to providing my children with the exposure and knowledge of different aspects of life: literary and mathematical literacy, oral proficiency, an appreciation for nature, music and other cultures, the ability to differentiate between right from wrong… I watch Fidel running on the beach after his dad, nimbly skipping over the waves as they come in while Fabian who is perched on my arm, tries to nosedive into the sand.  Yes, I think that I have made the right decision in staying put.  This is the place where I want my children to spend this present stage of their lives; free, being able to expand their inquisitive minds, feel the soil under their bare feet, watch the fowl nestle on the trees at sunset, and to express themselves without undue sanction.  Upon discovering my new role as a mother, I vowed that my children would be raised to become confident, well-read and properly-guided individuals with a strong sense of self identity.  These will be the guiding morals which will continue to govern every decision which I make as it relates to their welfare. And no, this does not mean keeping my children away from Singapore and their Asian roots.  Fidel has been to Singapore several times and we plan to be back every year or so.  Yesterday in the car, the little (read “beeeg”) precious says to me, “Mama, I want to be like my fadder, my fadder big and strong.  Mama, I have two fadders.  One in Angheeela, one in Shingapoh.”  In response to my requests for clarification, he says, “I have two mans. Papa and Gong-gong!” He also speaks animatedly about his toy collection back home; “Mama, I have a beeeg dinosaur in Shingapoh.  You know?”  They might have Afro-Caribbean, Chinese, Irish and Portuguese blood coursing through their veins, but they most definitely hold their Singapore connection very closely to their hearts. Now as my household continues their slumber, I flick on the Food Network Channel, sink into the sofa which is at last vacated by the significant other and turn to my expanding manicure collection with glee.  Which colour catcheth mine eyes this fair night?  Precious undisturbed minutes dedicated to some frivolous decision-making.  Finally, time for yours truly. Gag reflex No, it has NOTHING to do with what you guys are thinking, though coming from me, talking about gag reflex (*giggles*) without a cheeky raise of the brow is considered quite a rarity. And in true drama-mama fashion, I shall admit this post is an emo one (for me, that is!) more than anything. Minibean has not been turning up for nursery classes earlier this week due to an unfortunate bout of flu which skyrocketed her temperature, and exhausted her lungs from all those hard core coughing. There is one thing in the family about coughing. We never quite have minor coughs, but would often get those bouts that would inevitably give us abs. I actually enjoyed having some me-time with her keeping her away from school, and now I might have too much of what I wished for, cos her form teacher had called me up yesterday to inform me that the school would be closed till end of the month due to the outbreak of Hand Foot Mouth Disease, and the school would be closed for all necessary precautions and thorough sanitizing of the school compound. I thought it would be a good time for her to recuperate. Another thing about Minibean is that, if she didn’t get one thing from me, is the ability to control gag reflex. I was starting to be worried when some days she would throw up her first milk feed simply cos she was brushing her teeth. She tends to barf her meals out intentionally when she doesn’t want to eat (so that she can get to the dessert part you see) cos it was just so easy for her to do so that it might become a habit. She can’t take things of thick texture, like sweets, chocolate, jelly, ice-cream cos they would give her phlegm and the phlegm tends to make her throw up. Now I understand why some mothers are so strict about their children’s diet, because Minibean doesn’t usually get to enjoy the treats she is given, and unfortunately, being a parent also means you get to have first picks of your favourite chocolates have to finish the leftovers and that would make Mummy very displeased with the weight gain (DID I MENTION I GAIN 4 KG WITHOUT REALISING?!). Apparently, I have became one of those authoritarian parents, who can be rather strict with her liberty with the sweets, though if someone does offer, I would not decline because I feel impolite to do so. Sometimes, the grans might spoil her a little cos despite what I say, I don’t think the older generation takes suggestions very well, and will attributing it to her being too full and 1) stop feeding her proper food when she starts to gag simply cos she doesn’t want to eat particular food or 2) will repeat the vicious cycle the next time round. I was worried. I mean, the throwing up is stressing her digestive system, and she wouldn’t get much of the nutrition, she gets bulimic how?! But my daughter loves food too much to be bulimic (she does have a huge appetite for her petite size!), I was just worried that she would use it to get her way to the food she likes and ignore the other food she is made to eat. And the acid when she throws up wouldn’t do her system well either. These couple of days, she threw up more frequently, simply cos she is coughing so hard. I remember when she was 2 months old she had a cold too, and be it be then or now, hearing her coughing this bad really breaks my heart. I used to think people are exaggerating when they say they get “heartpain” when their kids get sick, cos c’mon, who doesn’t fall sick?! But then huh, really you know, her each cough can be tear-inducing, and you just don’t feel settled enough to want to go sleep. So. I decided to do something about it. The other day, when she was coughing, I told her she was coughing too hard, and if she continued, she might feel unwell and throw up again. So I taught her to control. Little did I know the effect till when I was brushing her teeth one morning, after she had rinsed her mouth, she beamed and said, “Look, Mummy! I controlled!“. I didn’t even realise she was controlling her gag reflexes if she didn’t tell me soon. I was beaming with pride. Cos she could even control it when she took her medication (which she would force it out of her throat cos she didn’t like the taste) when I distracted her with.. “CONTROL!! Don’t let it come out!“. It was kinda like a mini achievement that she has another uh, skill-set in life, and her throwing up incidents were cut down tremendously. Late last night, I was kept awake by her uncomfortable tossing and turning, feeling the squeeze on the heart whenever she broke into those gut-wrenching coughs. At the same time it was the inquisitive  me trying to eavesdrop on what she was saying in her sleep (she sleep talks quite a bit! She was saying she doesn’t want “7″ and she doesn’t want white colour, and that she wants to play. I blame Apple for this. Find out why in the next post!). Was trying to pat her chest to make her feel better, replenish the eucalyptus oil on the linens when I feel the smell was going off too soon, and constant tug of war with her as she kicked the blanket and me flustered-ly tucking her underneath it so to keep her warm. Before I knew it, it was few hours before I finally drifted off a little, and within 15 minutes, I heard a series of vigorous cough and that immediately shook me up. And then suddenly, I heard Minibean wailing… “Muuuuummmmmeeee…” And what she said next nearly made me cry. In her tone laced with misery and guilt, she whimpered, “… I cannot control…” I immediately got up and switched on the light, there she was, lying in her pool of vomit of phlegm and milk, and she was so tired that she wasn’t moving, and all she thought of was what I taught her and that she couldn’t do it. I changed her, worried she might catch a cold and realised she probably had to take my bed. Realising her medication was wearing off, I had tried to get her to take her medication for a more peaceful sleep for her. Alas, she refused and after I tucked her in, it was laundry time in the dead of the night, and I couldn’t sleep at all listening to her coughs, worried she might choke on her vomit (I know I am paranoid, but, I insist it was a very real worry!), so I ended up staying up till daylight, cos it was until then, after the laundry was all done and propped up, that I managed to feed her medication in her sleep. Hearing her breathing smoother and the coughing stopped, I made her bed which by then had dried, carried her up, sat there just to cradle her in my arms for a while, shifted her to her bed, and snuck under my duvet. I held her tiny hand and drifted off myself. I could hardly wake up this morning, finding myself under the weather. I was coughing harder than she is, and I felt her hovering above me, and stroke my face as I coughed. She let me rest a little before waking up, unlike how she would do so immediately everytime she wakes. I cannot explain how heartbreaking it was to hear her cough this hard. I cannot explain how real the fear of her choking on her vomit was. Most of all, I cannot explain how and why I wanna cry when I heard her whimpering in the middle of the night, and her first worry was how she didn’t manage to do what I taught her instead of telling me how bad she felt. And as I was kept awake till the morning light sept in, what was replaying in my head, was just her weak whimpers of how she didn’t manage to control, while controlling my urge not to cry. Being Monet Everyone who knows me would probably agree that it is unlikely that I would win “Mother of the Year” award anytime soon, or EVER, and it is more typical of me to be spouting something too dirty to be coming out of a mother’s mouth than to dispense wise, proper motherhood tips. Which was one of the reasons why I was pretty surprised when a friend suggested me to read her sister-in-law’s blog and said that I could just pop by whenever I am free (which was pretty swiftly cos even when I am not, I am a master of multi-tasking and busybodying hurhurhur) and give her some motherhood tips. I choked. Because scoffing and laughing really don’t go well together. You know, it probably is a miracle that I have not started spamming her sister-in-law’s email and sending out desperate SOS messages to beg for some help. I am trying. But like Oscar Wilde puts it best, am not young enough to know everything. I probably am as imperfect as the next person you see, and with different schools of thought on how bringing up children is like, I am really in no position to tell people what to do, especially when I am wearing shorts even my daughter would disapprove of, or finishing her candies when she ain’t looking (sweets are NOT good for her, I insist. Tolberones are wasted on her too!). I would even admit that there were 2 occasions when I accidentally let rip the unfortunate English word which is perhaps worse than Kanina, but miles better (in my opinion) than er, well, you know, the Hokkien term for twat in front of her when I dropped things (which happened so often with my clumsiness that cursing twice seems like tremendous control on my part). But having a child-like, and impossibly vast imagination (where do you think all that kinkiness in me come from?!) certainly does help in parenthood, for those times you need to recover from situations where your friends spew poetry of profanities cos she is just too tiny to be spotted, or the times with the onset of terrible 2s, terrible 3s.. and honestly it probably never stops from there onwards. So. It was with creativity that I started honing my art of distraction, and as minimal as possible, my art of deception. HELLLLL YEAAAHHHH, you are right. Hardships lay the eggs of creative geniuses! And hell ya, I should be frickin Monet by now too! I do not like deceiving Minibean to get my way, and I would not promise things that I cannot fulfill. If I cannot, I say I can’t. Even if I can, I would just loosely say I would try, in case anything crops up. So the expectation is managed, and it would be a bonus and she is happy when it gets fulfilled. I do not like to disappoint her with lies, cos I know how lousy it felt when I was younger, and with a memory that serves me since 3 years old (yes, unfortunately, I remember THAT far back), trust me, 3 years old children also got FEEEELING one. But I still do say those deceptive things like “CANNOT ANYHOW RUN LIKE THAT, WAIT GOT AHBUNEHNEH COME AND TAKE YOU AWAY.“, “CANNOT BE SO NOISY, WAIT POLICE CATCH!” (which we know is not true, or else with the amount of kiddos to catch, no one would ever join the police force) to the point that one day she saw the police and she thought they are all ahbunehnehs. Then I have to keep myself in check. Having said that, it was not being racist in anyway, but it was just how we were brought up when younger, and it became some sort of “traditional” thing to say, but to me, the image of ahbunehneh when I was younger would be those fluffy monsters (think the monster Stitch in Lilo and Stitch!) and not with relation to any race, cos the term is an affectionate one (sounds quite cute what?). So, with that failed examples, it was perhaps better to rely on the art of distraction and using some creativity to counter the very brilliant, may I add, overly brilliant mind of Minibean. You know what is more dangerous than driving under the influence of alcohol? I tell you. Driving under the influence of kiddos. They scream, they whine, they cry, and if you haven’t encountered it – I hope you never do – they might even throw a shoe or 2 at you when you are not there to reassure them or rubba their tummies, while driving with your elbows as you mix the milk powder into the hot bottle of water you had “kiap-ed” in between your thighs. They don’t take no for an answer, and NOW means NOW. Then some time ago, to get some peace, I started counting 1 – 30, restarting at 1 when I have to, just so to distract her, and perhaps she wouldn’t interrupt when I am talking. There was another time, I decided to change my tone, and then started to ask, “Hmmm Minibean, have you ever wonder….?” Wonder what, she asked. … instead of crying and making a fuss, you should just relax, slow your pace, and look at what is happening around you? The beautiful sun setting… handsome chaps walking out there, the differences between each tree.. and hey look, that tree has flowers. Look at that car driver and how rude he is, and have you ever thought why your mother is so awesome…? She went absolutely quiet. I turned to her and realised she had fell asleep. I felt pretty insulted but yet at the same time, it was as if I had found a diamond mine or something. I tried it again the next time, she didn’t fall asleep but ended up asking me why the sun setting, why the tree has flowers while the others don’t have and why is her mother awesome. I was glad to tell her why which means she wasn’t fussing or crying or throwing a shoe at me cos she was too focused on finding out the answers. It is interesting how over her growth, at different stages, more things are required out of me to deal with her infant years, the terrible years (I must tell all those people out there who can’t stand screaming kids and how kids misbehaving are parents’ fault, judge them until the terrible years have passed!), and now, transitioning to making sense of the world years.. Some of such creativity also means honing her creativity cos well, she has to counter us sometimes, isn’t it? She has successfully pulled a couple of “LOOK, IT’S A BIRD” (not exactly that, but you know what I mean) tricks, and stuffed couple of gourmet chocolates into her mouth while I had my sight diverted. It is constantly a game of chess. I remember on my flight back to Singapore from Sri Lanka, I was sitting next to a breastfeeding new mum, who had wrapped her daughter in winter gear (they were heading to Ozzy) when she had boarded the very packed and warm flight. Her child was hungry and covered in sweat, I can only imagine how uncomfortable it was for the baby. But she had no idea how to stop the child from crying. Of cos, she probably didn’t know how painful the pressure would cause the baby’s ears to be, so the baby probably need to suckle something. But I would think this part would be more of common sense than being creative cos your ears would have hurt too right? And now with Minibean (yes, I am jumping topic from topic randomly!) down with a fever and a bad, bad cough, another challenge would be keeping her medication down without her puking it out, if we manage to fool her into finishing her medication in the first place. The syringe method, the dilute with water method, the spike her milk method, the force it down her mouth method (done by the older folks but never by me), the bribery method (I really don’t like to use bribery methods for ANYTHING with Minibean), the coaxing method, the begging method, the make-it-look-damn-fun-and-I-challenge-you-to-do method…. you name it, I’ve done it. The spike her milk method was my favourite until it failed when one time, she told me that it was not her “normal milk” cos it tasted nothing like it and insisted I got it changed. This morning, I spiked her water, only difference was, she was asleep when I tickled the bottle teat to her mouth and she chomped up everything. So last night, the diluting method didn’t work when it worked wonderfully previous times when she fell sick. She had gotten so yucked out by the taste that she threw up right after she got to her fever medication. Eventually, I pretended to be really urgent when I asked her to pinch her nose “OH! QUICK QUICK QUICK!” in the kind of exaggerated, baby-tone voice you will see on kiddy channels too often. I told her to hold her breath, and she had to do it really fast. I put the medication on the spoon without diluting it, and quickly send it into her mouth, and immediately pop a blueberry into it. When she tasted the medication and wanted to barf, I pointed to this random chap on television and asked, “HEY, WHO IS THAT HANDSOME GUY? You think handsome or not?” Then, she suddenly forgot about the taste in her mouth and stopped gagging. And I am quite thankful she is a child who loves her greens, her fruits, her meat, her seafood and the occasion durian. Apparently, my dad started her with a sip of beer a week or 2 ago, before I realised that was also the age I had my first sip of beer. But I still do have some challenges when feeding her cos she could love long beans today, but she would not want them in her porridge the next. The “Aeroplane flying into your mouth” spoon trick no longer works, and my old bones are too old for running around to feed her. She didn’t want the greenies, and I had asked her to close her eyes, and tell me what she thinks is in the porridge. She did so, and she didn’t taste anything (which would be followed up by “HOW COULD IT BE? I give you one more chance, you try again and guess!“). It has been almost 2 months that during most meals she would be having her eyes closed, and those will be the days she would finish an entire massive bowl of rice/porridge. Sometimes I feel like I need more energy to keep up with the perpetual kiddy show I have to put up, or the exhausting scheming, and now with her reading up on ballet, I have to demo the moves to her when I am the last person she should be picking up graceful moves from. I shall end this post very abruptly cos she has just been knocked out by the very potent medication and I am now scoffing at the non-drowsy formula given by the same doctor the previous time which only made her more energetic, more restless, and Mummy more tired. Since she is now knocked out, pardon me that I have to treasure this break and catch some 40 winks for myself too. My mind has automatically shut off the moment I heard her soft, tiny snores, and my body just yearns to snuggle up close to her to enjoy her angelic moment, which of course, when she is all subdued, and not bombarding me with too many “Whys”. Awesome week It could almost be a perfect week if Minibean hadn’t been down with fever after being hit by a bout of flu. Her school has like 5 cases of HFMD, and with her immunity system down, am not too keen to let her go to school tomorrow. But other than that and her accompanied but very understandable crankiness, the past couple of weeks have been fabulous. Abundant blessings, excessive good food, plenty of awesome people… and more importantly, sweet opportunities to replenish the financial output. I was jokingly saying that maybe the new URL does bring me some sort of luck or something. And let’s hope it stays that way. Will be back tomorrow with more. If I haven’t been sucked in by the iPad, or the new book I purchased. Been a while since I last read. Get well soon my love, Mummy loves you. Very very much. The one about minishorts Many parents had discussed and asked about the tricky questions regarding raising a girl.. and I have to admit I have constantly worry myself to death about her impending teenagehood (hey, it is less than a decade to go, you know?!). Like, today, an aunt’s son was bringing friends over, and she quickly went to the maid and asked “the friend guy or girl?”. Suddenly an ominous vision came to mind.. that it would be my turn to ask the same question next time, and I would probably barge up to find out the answer for myself, yet trying to play it cool so, you know, I can play the “mole” to find out more…. And then, there are more worrying things at hands for me to worry about. Very worried in fact. While changing to head out today, Minibean and I were scouring through the basket for clothes. And this was how it went: “Aiyoooooooooooo why your shorts so tiny? So short!” “Niiiiiccceeeeeee what!” “NOOOOOOooOOOo! It is toooooooo short and too small for you! Don’t wear this!” “I don’t waaant! I want to wear!” “Cannotttt! It is too small, you are too fat to wear it!” And this sentence, prompted the never-say-die spirit, and it was a full-on effort to squeeze into the teenyweeny pair of shorts and then when the final button was done up.. “SEEEEEEEEEE! Can wear! I not too fat!” “Seeeee so short! Cannot! So short cannot go out like that!” “Don’t care, I want to wear this! Hmphffff.” “I don’t like it!” “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? MY MOTHER?!” So this conversation ended with me sashaying out of the room in my shorts, ignoring her protest. Sooner or later, your spawns will start playing parents to you, and more often than not, the day will come too soon. So yeap, my dear honey bunny Minibean, this episode will one day come back and bite you in the bumbum. And that’s with no pun intended. scarlet scandals Finally changed my hosting, and with new hosting, comes a new beginning. And it was all thanks to Jacki, who is always so busy that I didn’t dare to prod him to help me, and he fabulously informed me only after he had shifted everything and sorted out all the frills after 5 hours of hardwork. So, now, it is time to update your bookmark and tweak the link. Goodbye http://joewei.net and all the bad episodes of downtime. Hello http://www.scarletscandals.com, where the scandals are rarely red hot and scarlet these days, but who knows what the future holds? It will still redirect you guys from joewei.net for sometime during transitioning but it’s best to update the links and RSS feeds: http://www.scarletscandals.com/feed/ Feels a little morose about letting joewei.net lay to rest, but maybe it will bring a bout of awesome fortune and blessings? I can only pray and hope! Still need a bit of getting used to cos it is not as user-friendly yet. *Keeping fingers crossed* Passion Chiffonier + POCC night out! Yay to a Friday morning! Long weekend is hereeeeee! Yeeps Yeeps Yippee. I have great news. I have a new host, and it is going to be a transition hereonforth. What better way to celebrate my new site with a mega long ass post! I have no idea what’s in my food these days. I seem to be high on something these evenings. Like, perpetually high. Only in the evenings. Those at pole prac last night would probably attest to that. And then by the time in the morning, I would back to my listless, meek, subdued, demure old (keyword here is OLD) self. Don’t judge me, but I am now follow Lady Gaga’s dance steps in Telephone MTV via Youtube and literally bouncing as I am typing this. Sorry for the horrifying mental images I just scorched into your minds, giggles. This post would have seen daylight waaaaaayyy earlier (fresher!) if not for the hiccup I had earlier with my blog and the trip (still have so much spilling excitement from it.. *swoons*). I had promised to get this post up last week, and CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW LONG I HAVE DRAGGED? Tsk, so irresponsible right?! Nonetheless, everything happens for a reason I believe, and since it is gonna be a long weekend ahead, it would mean that this post would be PUUURRRRFEEECCCTT timing for those who had suffered a rough work week to slowly browse and cheer up to! Cos you guys are gonna be introduced to a brilliant new blogshop, and it would mean plenty of prettys to browse through, and a long weekend to get those fingers clicking for some retail therapy with the comfort at home! I mean.. imagine getting through the long weekend, with spare time to slow the pace, to pamper yourselves with some retail therapy. By the time the dreary work week started and you get a bit down with dragging yourself back to work, the purchase would have reached you in the midst of the week to tide the blues over and to have that something to look forward to will certainly suddenly perk the entire week up. Or at least that works for me! As I was saying! Pretty dresses and party pictures.. Just the awesome combination to get the party, chillax mood started. Gee. Honestly speaking, I don’t know where to start. I have drafted this post like a hundred times in my mind, and started on it a few times, but I kept punching on the backspace key, probably because I am supposed to write an advertorial, but over the course of the past couple of weeks, it actually started to feel like I have a certain expectations out of this post, because instead of the fact that I am being paid to do it, I HOPE dearly that something good will come out of it because it feels like I am helping a couple of incredibly nice friends to promote their startup. So with the expectations of myself, I actually found myself at a loss for words! I believe I mentioned in my previous advertorials that I am not one of those typical mainstream bloggers people look for to do advertorials, and sometimes it does puzzle me when people do approach me, like in the case of Jenn and Ling (*evil laughs* Too late for you girls to back out!). I actually took a long read back all the conversations I have had with the ladies who are behind Passion Chiffonier since contact was first established with all the formalities, before I was wondering if the person writing to me had split personalities (cos they had such obvious distinct characters that even came through their emails), until I realised they took turns to reply to me via the same email. At first they had offered 3 pieces of items for me to review, and as usual, I stated that I would not normally take all 3 pieces for the sake of taking if the stuff is not to my liking cos it would be unfair that if I essentially promote something I wouldn’t and don’t wear. They gave some background to the product of their efforts, and very delicately explained the little thoughts that went behind the concept of their blogshops, and what motivated them to start their own blogshops. It wasn’t one of those cut and paste mass-messaged PR statements, but it was just their casual remarks that make you realise how they cared about every details and seemed so happy to do so. This was what they told me: “…we thought that just solely selling individual pieces of clothes to customers was not enough. We wanted to present different styles of dressing with the clothes that we are going to sell (i.e. pair them up with different shoes, belts, accessories etc), create wearable looks that we both love.” In fact, the most amazing part is, besides allowing me to choose what normally appeals to me and is within my comfort zone, they did something that some other blogshop owners seldom do which really impressed me. They threw up suggestions for me based on their observations of my usual style, and they were spot on with my likes! I think that takes heaps of thoughtfulness and sweetness for people to take note of your likes (remember how we always coo about those guys who are have an attention for details?!). Not only that, they utilised their sharp senses of style and made recommendations of things I had never tried (cos they are observant enough to know!), and what they thought I could carry off, so I could step out of my comfort zone and at the same time, have a refreshed image! Then, I took a look at their site with their recommendations, and I took a long while to get back to them… because.. because.. I LIKE SO MANY THING AND I GOT GREEDY la! Don’t believe? Let’s take a look what they have: And this was from collection 1 onlyyyyy! (Sidetrack a bit, the model looks a bit like the Yang Jinhua from Bai Quan Nu Wang right?!) Thankfully I don’t need work clothes, cos I heart the mock wrap Peplum dress, which I saw Zoe Raymond carry the look off impeccably on her blog. I struggled badly with whether to get the ziippppbrraaa preens skirt or not cos I think the girls did a fabulous job of keeping true to making their pieces so versatile that I love how the skirt could look so casual (and look youthful!) and sophisticated at the same time. Nice right?! Alas, it was one piece I didn’t get and am kicking myself for it! And it comes in 2 sizes if you guys are interested in getting. The green romper is cute cute cute! And the black puffed sleeve tunic was another piece that caught my eyes! And of course, they were quick to spot the grey floral sweetheart bustier dress is something I would totally dig… and if you haven’t realised, it was the very piece I wore for my memorable time with the elephants in the previous post. Then they had to make my life more miserable by giving me an exclusive glimpse at their latest launch of Polka Dot Romance: I ended up liking EVERYTHING from this collection, which is a first cos I normally would only like SOME pieces when I browse blogshops, and it was the first time I actually like EVERYTHING from one collection. How to choose 3 pieces like that, you tell me?? During one of the conversations, they knew about my upcoming trip and with my indecisiveness, they actually allowed me to choose 4 pieces, and when they knew I have trouble pairing my accessories (yes, I am a fashion handicapped that way!), they put in another item to make my life easier! I love the black lace dress very much because I actually have something in my wardrobe that resembles it to the core which I paid much more for from overseas some time back: After I posted the pictures of the night out with my pole-mates on facebook, I actually had a few friends asking me where I got the dress from, and since I could no longer find it online, when I saw a similar one on Passion Chiffonier, I was quick to inform them they could get a similar one at only a fraction of the price! Since I have something similar, it could ease me from choosing that piece cos I was tempted to get the dress in blue but resisted against it so I can keep my options for others, and try out different things. Eventually, with the help from the lovely ladies who painstakingly answered my queries to all the dresses (they always replied with such details and passion that it wasn’t those one-size-fits-all replies), the material, my choices were finalised. As they knew I was heading for POCC event and going overseas, they offered to meet up and pass to me personally in between their busy dayjob schedules. So sweet! I was greeted by Ling’s bubbly and sweet smile, coupled by her girly dress sense… and she is one of those who looks gorgeous in white! She looks like she is in her teens and surely doesn’t look her age. And here is how sweet they are: And they paid me before I even wrote anything even when I threatened them that I might just leave the country (which I did) and then take their moolah and run away! Then like that HOW?! They didn’t even care It was later when Jenn added me on facebook that I finally got to see how she looks like, and I must say both ladies could very well model their own line! And it was the constant email exchanges of even the most mundane things (like my whines of my cornea cut, my trip, their work), that gave me more insights to their personalities and after putting faces to their names, I could so totally understand the concept behind their blogshop. Both of them are vibrant, youthful, fashionable and fun ladies who are in the corporate world, and thus their styles very much spell out who they are, adding a little playfulness and spice to the rigid corporate world, and yet let their characters shine through with the items they chose for Passion Chiffonier. In my personal opinion, they 2 of them represent different styles and that complement each other well, and give their collection a good range. At the same time, they understood very well how versatility and creativity could mean the same item would bring a different feel to everyone, and appropriately fits all occasions. When I brought the pieces to poledance lessons and were having supper with my polemates, I showed them the items and they were all gushing over the pieces and asked me for the site immediately. So it doesn’t matter if you are 16, or 36, you could wear the same piece and it would look like it fits you to a tee! So here are what I had chosen and my reviews of the item.. and plenty of camwhore pictures from my outings in the pwwwweeeeetttyy gears! *** Polka Dot Stretch Romper Surprise surprise! Yes, I actually decided to act cute and chose the polka dot romper! I was actually pretty apprehensive that I might look too act cute, but it was such a comfortable piece and I am very happy with the selection. The material was thicker and structured, which was fabulous cos it prevented the tube from sliding down, and hold the shorts’ shape prettily in place! Someone actually said “SO CUTEEEE” when saw me in it, and seriously, who will ever associate me with the word “cute”? I decided to wear it out on 24th July morning for the vaccination at Tampines! And it comes with a belt slot which you could go without a belt or in my case, I took a frilly lacey thingy and just tied it around. After the jab, Siren and I headed to Hougang to pick up some of her stuff, before I decided to lug along to her pole-prac session, where I saw some of the usual suspects doing aerial practice in the background. I am now advancing to Pole 5, and boy, has it been that long since I started taking up poledancing? And I was so in awe of the aerial’s grace that I decided to pick up Aerial too. YAY! As I was heading off to my holiday, I missed the first lesson, and Ming very sweetly allowed me to catch up with the lesson BEFORE the course started. And since I was in the studio, I took the chance to pick up what I would have missed. That is to do a.. uhm.. BEACH WHALE. Why poledancing got all the super stylomilo name but when it comes to hoop, so not sexy one? Then they told me it is also called “Front Lay” and I giggled silly. Mounting onto the hoop in the romper, feel very secure to even do everything (sheesh, now like promoting sanitary pad!). Celestine been saying how I always look constipated when I pole, so trying to smile as broadly as possible. And now… *drums roll* The beach whale! The thing with aerial is it is always quite hard to get a good picture cos I am always swinging. Me trying to look graceful but ended up looking silly. Was supposed to let go and pose.. Decided to brave the silk (which would be taught in later part of aerial classes), and here’s the amateurish pictures after I first mounted: And then… the amazon! All in my romper! I didn’t even need to adjust the romper after I landed back on solid ground cos the material held up very well There was a tiny episode when Celestine said she would be damn upset with me if I manage to do a flip she couldn’t do on the silk, I giggled and asked if she was challenging me. I kept trying and trying and suddenly, I managed to flip and she walked away saying she doesn’t like me that much. My expression was like I struck the toto, and punched my fist in the air. But the end result of the move? Bruises on my arms which are not so evident… Bloodshot red which became big patches of blueblack! But I laughed how it was all worth it cos I upset Celestine (cos her reaction was damn cute!). Oh, you can also see quite a close up of the romper here and its material Camwhoring outside the studio! Camwhoring when I got home before taking a nap for the evening at Zouk to come! *** Been a long while since I last went to Zouk, and this time is all for a good cause, to support Power Over Cervical Cancer, and also the Acro Polates girls were performing as well! And for the occasion, I was dressed in another Passion Chiffonier dress, which received compliments from some of the girls who asked me where I got it from! Fab Dotted Satin Dress When I first received it, it was the piece which material impressed me the most. Though they had told me it was made in light weight satin, what I like is that it wasn’t the kind of cheap, thin satin that are too shiny for daily use. It was a bit more matt than the usual satin, and you would definitely not feel overdressed in it even for a casual day out. It also comes with lining underneath. I actually felt girlier, sweeter, younger (ahem) and sexier in it. It also is thicker than the normal satin so the shape stays and not look limp. And you know what they say about the ruffles at the bustline.. ILLUSIONS, baybeh! Besides that, it comes with padding on top so you could cheat a little for that nice little cleavage, heh heh heh. And now.. pictures in my new dress and the night out in Zouk! Heading out. And the best part was that Jenn & Ling decided to throw in a Suede butterfly belt (which they also have on the site in Collection 2) so I could accessorise the dress! The belt is super easy to match with everything I found in my wardrobe! The pamphlet at the entrance echoed exactly what I have to say. Nikki and I arrived early and met at the entrance, getting ready to scream ourselves hoarse! She did the auntie thing to check out the goodie bag offers so that I didn’t have to! Jean, the closet kinky maiden with her stripper heels! I thought it is so adorable to have a cash slot at the transport heel… like so innocently kinky! Bumped into Nadnut who was at the event too, and you can see the patches of bruise on my arm! With Celestine and Jean, who were waiting to perform. Nikki, Miss Mango Trina, me and Jean. They put up such a fabulous show that night, and made us wonder when we would one day reach that level. *dreams* SO HOT RIGHT! Group picture of the girls from poledancing studio (and the pole wipers, hahaha)! Most of us were there to lend our support and voices and they were amazing! Back to her old self… she had inspired us to pick up the “reach out and pluck the rambutan gracefully” move. They requested it. Nikki and I with sexy Eunice, our instructor and motivator. I said must take full body view so can see my dress. Hahaha. Nikki looks damn chio here. The night ended with us heading for supper at River Valley Road before we gave Eunice a lift back and conveniently headed for another supper location. Tucked away in a quiet corner of Stagmont Ring, is this amazing dog-friendly place where we have been chilling quite often at. It has seating area for dog owners to have a beer or two, and their food is pretty decent and economically priced! An area for the dogs to run about, and the black fenced up area is actually a pool for the pups to have a dip! Absolutely sweet, sweet place. This is me and Tyson, a Bull Mastiff puppy. I wasn’t strangling him! Please don’t report me to SPCA! It was then I saw this lovely pup strolling around with staccato steps, revealing the leg problems it has. Fell in love with it and it was just so calm, and quiet, except when Tyson tried to kiss him. It was then the owner of the cafe told me how the boarding house has been a popular place for irresponsible owners to abandon their dogs. This pup (which I have since nicknamed him “my dog”) is old and has legs problem, and it was abandoned at the gate of the boarding house one day. He is just one of the many, including 3 labs which were sent over by the same owner, and he never came back for them. I got all teary just listening to the stories, and it perhaps explained why he always looked so… detached and morose. He looked on to the world with jaded eyes and he doesn’t get overly affectionate with anyone. It is because of him I keep returning. He is the only dog allowed to roam freely around the premises, and I always tell him he is very loved.. somehow that sounded silly.. but oh well. We left around 3am that night, and usually the cafe opens till 1ish am on weekdays. The address is No. 5 Stagmont Ring, further down the road from ten mile junction if anyone is interested in checking the place out! *** It was a beautiful Saturday, it indeed was *** The third piece I chose was obviously the grey floral bustier dress from the debut collection! It was made of light cotton and that was why I brought it with me for a hot day out during my trip! The material is very cooling and came with an inner lining too! And it also comes with the “secret” of padded bustier, that you can see lotsa.. uhm, illusions! Here’s some of the snippets of the trip (which I will do up a post soon!).. and everyone been asking me what’s that beautiful place, and the answer is.. It is Sri Lanka. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yah, I know, forsaking Sydney for Sri Lanka, many didn’t understand the logic behind my choice either, but I really liked what I saw, and decided to see them for myself. Again, you can see that I have paired it up with the butterfly belt that Jenn and Ling chose for me. I could even cross the river in it, heh. The dress comes in 3 colours and they have even shown different ways to wear it. I wore it to a nice dinner with a cropped jacket and it looks formal and presentable immediately. This was also the dress that when my pole mates saw, and unanimously liked *** Last but not least! casual embossed rose tank top I opted for this for its apparent simplicity but upon close up, you can see the nice gold trimming of the rose that gave it an unique texture. When I showed the pieces, many touched the material and complimented on its material. I would say it is damn sexy to wear without tights, but please only keep it in the bedrooms. With flash you can see the embossed rose more clearly. The material has a nice touch to it, and is really comfortable to wear. I wore it on the last day of the trip, and was looking forward to run about the trip and doing jumps in it, unfortunately we didn’t have the time to go down to the Colombo beach, and I only had time for a picture in the airport. Here, I coupled it with a pair of shorts, and it was the perfect thing to wear cos everyone had to be body searched at the airport, and I pretty much cleared without being touched much hahaha. *** The best part is Passion Chiffonier has plenty of tips on how to accessorise your outfits, that would decorate you from head to toe, so just pop over NOW to have a look at the brilliant goodies they have to offer! Simply go into the site, browse, and list your preferences in following format: Name: Email address: Item(s): Colour and Size (if applicable): And they will invoice you via email! That simple! Or leave a comment with your email and I am sure they would answer your queries promptly. If you can’t wait for their next launch like I do, just CLICK HERE to leave your email addresses to join their mailing list to be updated of the latest launches and get exclusive glimpses of the latest collections prior to launch. GO JOIN NOW NOW NOW! Like I said, I have grown to like the lovely duo, and I hope you guys can also show some support for the passionate duo by joining their mailing list, or their facebook page. And after spending 10 hours in front of my monitor punching backspace buttons, getting distracted, plus photoediting and shifting my site to a new host, I am now gonna nap for couple of hours! Happy shopping everyone, and have a great, great holiday weekend! Passion Chiffonier + POCC night out! Yay to a Friday morning! Long weekend is hereeeeee! Yeeps Yeeps Yippee. I have great news. I have a new host, and it is going to be a transition hereonforth. What better way to celebrate my new site with a mega long ass post! I have no idea what’s in my food these days. I seem to be high on something these evenings. Like, perpetually high. Only in the evenings. Those at pole prac last night would probably attest to that. And then by the time in the morning, I would back to my listless, meek, subdued, demure old (keyword here is OLD) self. Don’t judge me, but I am now follow Lady Gaga’s dance steps in Telephone MTV via Youtube and literally bouncing as I am typing this. Sorry for the horrifying mental images I just scorched into your minds, giggles. This post would have seen daylight waaaaaayyy earlier (fresher!) if not for the hiccup I had earlier with my blog and the trip (still have so much spilling excitement from it.. *swoons*). I had promised to get this post up last week, and CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW LONG I HAVE DRAGGED? Tsk, so irresponsible right?! Nonetheless, everything happens for a reason I believe, and since it is gonna be a long weekend ahead, it would mean that this post would be PUUURRRRFEEECCCTT timing for those who had suffered a rough work week to slowly browse and cheer up to! Cos you guys are gonna be introduced to a brilliant new blogshop, and it would mean plenty of prettys to browse through, and a long weekend to get those fingers clicking for some retail therapy with the comfort at home! I mean.. imagine getting through the long weekend, with spare time to slow the pace, to pamper yourselves with some retail therapy. By the time the dreary work week started and you get a bit down with dragging yourself back to work, the purchase would have reached you in the midst of the week to tide the blues over and to have that something to look forward to will certainly suddenly perk the entire week up. Or at least that works for me! As I was saying! Pretty dresses and party pictures.. Just the awesome combination to get the party, chillax mood started. Gee. Honestly speaking, I don’t know where to start. I have drafted this post like a hundred times in my mind, and started on it a few times, but I kept punching on the backspace key, probably because I am supposed to write an advertorial, but over the course of the past couple of weeks, it actually started to feel like I have a certain expectations out of this post, because instead of the fact that I am being paid to do it, I HOPE dearly that something good will come out of it because it feels like I am helping a couple of incredibly nice friends to promote their startup. So with the expectations of myself, I actually found myself at a loss for words! I believe I mentioned in my previous advertorials that I am not one of those typical mainstream bloggers people look for to do advertorials, and sometimes it does puzzle me when people do approach me, like in the case of Jenn and Ling (*evil laughs* Too late for you girls to back out!). I actually took a long read back all the conversations I have had with the ladies who are behind Passion Chiffonier since contact was first established with all the formalities, before I was wondering if the person writing to me had split personalities (cos they had such obvious distinct characters that even came through their emails), until I realised they took turns to reply to me via the same email. At first they had offered 3 pieces of items for me to review, and as usual, I stated that I would not normally take all 3 pieces for the sake of taking if the stuff is not to my liking cos it would be unfair that if I essentially promote something I wouldn’t and don’t wear. They gave some background to the product of their efforts, and very delicately explained the little thoughts that went behind the concept of their blogshops, and what motivated them to start their own blogshops. It wasn’t one of those cut and paste mass-messaged PR statements, but it was just their casual remarks that make you realise how they cared about every details and seemed so happy to do so. This was what they told me: “…we thought that just solely selling individual pieces of clothes to customers was not enough. We wanted to present different styles of dressing with the clothes that we are going to sell (i.e. pair them up with different shoes, belts, accessories etc), create wearable looks that we both love.” In fact, the most amazing part is, besides allowing me to choose what normally appeals to me and is within my comfort zone, they did something that some other blogshop owners seldom do which really impressed me. They threw up suggestions for me based on their observations of my usual style, and they were spot on with my likes! I think that takes heaps of thoughtfulness and sweetness for people to take note of your likes (remember how we always coo about those guys who are have an attention for details?!). Not only that, they utilised their sharp senses of style and made recommendations of things I had never tried (cos they are observant enough to know!), and what they thought I could carry off, so I could step out of my comfort zone and at the same time, have a refreshed image! Then, I took a look at their site with their recommendations, and I took a long while to get back to them… because.. because.. I LIKE SO MANY THING AND I GOT GREEDY la! Don’t believe? Let’s take a look what they have: And this was from collection 1 onlyyyyy! (Sidetrack a bit, the model looks a bit like the Yang Jinhua from Bai Quan Nu Wang right?!) Thankfully I don’t need work clothes, cos I heart the mock wrap Peplum dress, which I saw Zoe Raymond carry the look off impeccably on her blog. I struggled badly with whether to get the ziippppbrraaa preens skirt or not cos I think the girls did a fabulous job of keeping true to making their pieces so versatile that I love how the skirt could look so casual (and look youthful!) and sophisticated at the same time. Nice right?! Alas, it was one piece I didn’t get and am kicking myself for it! And it comes in 2 sizes if you guys are interested in getting. The green romper is cute cute cute! And the black puffed sleeve tunic was another piece that caught my eyes! And of course, they were quick to spot the grey floral sweetheart bustier dress is something I would totally dig… and if you haven’t realised, it was the very piece I wore for my memorable time with the elephants in the previous post. Then they had to make my life more miserable by giving me an exclusive glimpse at their latest launch of Polka Dot Romance: I ended up liking EVERYTHING from this collection, which is a first cos I normally would only like SOME pieces when I browse blogshops, and it was the first time I actually like EVERYTHING from one collection. How to choose 3 pieces like that, you tell me?? During one of the conversations, they knew about my upcoming trip and with my indecisiveness, they actually allowed me to choose 4 pieces, and when they knew I have trouble pairing my accessories (yes, I am a fashion handicapped that way!), they put in another item to make my life easier! I love the black lace dress very much because I actually have something in my wardrobe that resembles it to the core which I paid much more for from overseas some time back: After I posted the pictures of the night out with my pole-mates on facebook, I actually had a few friends asking me where I got the dress from, and since I could no longer find it online, when I saw a similar one on Passion Chiffonier, I was quick to inform them they could get a similar one at only a fraction of the price! Since I have something similar, it could ease me from choosing that piece cos I was tempted to get the dress in blue but resisted against it so I can keep my options for others, and try out different things. Eventually, with the help from the lovely ladies who painstakingly answered my queries to all the dresses (they always replied with such details and passion that it wasn’t those one-size-fits-all replies), the material, my choices were finalised. As they knew I was heading for POCC event and going overseas, they offered to meet up and pass to me personally in between their busy dayjob schedules. So sweet! I was greeted by Ling’s bubbly and sweet smile, coupled by her girly dress sense… and she is one of those who looks gorgeous in white! She looks like she is in her teens and surely doesn’t look her age. And here is how sweet they are: And they paid me before I even wrote anything even when I threatened them that I might just leave the country (which I did) and then take their moolah and run away! Then like that HOW?! They didn’t even care It was later when Jenn added me on facebook that I finally got to see how she looks like, and I must say both ladies could very well model their own line! And it was the constant email exchanges of even the most mundane things (like my whines of my cornea cut, my trip, their work), that gave me more insights to their personalities and after putting faces to their names, I could so totally understand the concept behind their blogshop. Both of them are vibrant, youthful, fashionable and fun ladies who are in the corporate world, and thus their styles very much spell out who they are, adding a little playfulness and spice to the rigid corporate world, and yet let their characters shine through with the items they chose for Passion Chiffonier. In my personal opinion, they 2 of them represent different styles and that complement each other well, and give their collection a good range. At the same time, they understood very well how versatility and creativity could mean the same item would bring a different feel to everyone, and appropriately fits all occasions. When I brought the pieces to poledance lessons and were having supper with my polemates, I showed them the items and they were all gushing over the pieces and asked me for the site immediately. So it doesn’t matter if you are 16, or 36, you could wear the same piece and it would look like it fits you to a tee! So here are what I had chosen and my reviews of the item.. and plenty of camwhore pictures from my outings in the pwwwweeeeetttyy gears! *** Polka Dot Stretch Romper Surprise surprise! Yes, I actually decided to act cute and chose the polka dot romper! I was actually pretty apprehensive that I might look too act cute, but it was such a comfortable piece and I am very happy with the selection. The material was thicker and structured, which was fabulous cos it prevented the tube from sliding down, and hold the shorts’ shape prettily in place! Someone actually said “SO CUTEEEE” when saw me in it, and seriously, who will ever associate me with the word “cute”? I decided to wear it out on 24th July morning for the vaccination at Tampines! And it comes with a belt slot which you could go without a belt or in my case, I took a frilly lacey thingy and just tied it around. After the jab, Siren and I headed to Hougang to pick up some of her stuff, before I decided to lug along to her pole-prac session, where I saw some of the usual suspects doing aerial practice in the background. I am now advancing to Pole 5, and boy, has it been that long since I started taking up poledancing? And I was so in awe of the aerial’s grace that I decided to pick up Aerial too. YAY! As I was heading off to my holiday, I missed the first lesson, and Ming very sweetly allowed me to catch up with the lesson BEFORE the course started. And since I was in the studio, I took the chance to pick up what I would have missed. That is to do a.. uhm.. BEACH WHALE. Why poledancing got all the super stylomilo name but when it comes to hoop, so not sexy one? Then they told me it is also called “Front Lay” and I giggled silly. Mounting onto the hoop in the romper, feel very secure to even do everything (sheesh, now like promoting sanitary pad!). Celestine been saying how I always look constipated when I pole, so trying to smile as broadly as possible. And now… *drums roll* The beach whale! The thing with aerial is it is always quite hard to get a good picture cos I am always swinging. Me trying to look graceful but ended up looking silly. Was supposed to let go and pose.. Decided to brave the silk (which would be taught in later part of aerial classes), and here’s the amateurish pictures after I first mounted: And then… the amazon! All in my romper! I didn’t even need to adjust the romper after I landed back on solid ground cos the material held up very well There was a tiny episode when Celestine said she would be damn upset with me if I manage to do a flip she couldn’t do on the silk, I giggled and asked if she was challenging me. I kept trying and trying and suddenly, I managed to flip and she walked away saying she doesn’t like me that much. My expression was like I struck the toto, and punched my fist in the air. But the end result of the move? Bruises on my arms which are not so evident… Bloodshot red which became big patches of blueblack! But I laughed how it was all worth it cos I upset Celestine (cos her reaction was damn cute!). Oh, you can also see quite a close up of the romper here and its material Camwhoring outside the studio! Camwhoring when I got home before taking a nap for the evening at Zouk to come! *** Been a long while since I last went to Zouk, and this time is all for a good cause, to support Power Over Cervical Cancer, and also the Acro Polates girls were performing as well! And for the occasion, I was dressed in another Passion Chiffonier dress, which received compliments from some of the girls who asked me where I got it from! Fab Dotted Satin Dress When I first received it, it was the piece which material impressed me the most. Though they had told me it was made in light weight satin, what I like is that it wasn’t the kind of cheap, thin satin that are too shiny for daily use. It was a bit more matt than the usual satin, and you would definitely not feel overdressed in it even for a casual day out. It also comes with lining underneath. I actually felt girlier, sweeter, younger (ahem) and sexier in it. It also is thicker than the normal satin so the shape stays and not look limp. And you know what they say about the ruffles at the bustline.. ILLUSIONS, baybeh! Besides that, it comes with padding on top so you could cheat a little for that nice little cleavage, heh heh heh. And now.. pictures in my new dress and the night out in Zouk! Heading out. And the best part was that Jenn & Ling decided to throw in a Suede butterfly belt (which they also have on the site in Collection 2) so I could accessorise the dress! The belt is super easy to match with everything I found in my wardrobe! The pamphlet at the entrance echoed exactly what I have to say. Nikki and I arrived early and met at the entrance, getting ready to scream ourselves hoarse! She did the auntie thing to check out the goodie bag offers so that I didn’t have to! Jean, the closet kinky maiden with her stripper heels! I thought it is so adorable to have a cash slot at the transport heel… like so innocently kinky! Bumped into Nadnut who was at the event too, and you can see the patches of bruise on my arm! With Celestine and Jean, who were waiting to perform. Nikki, Miss Mango Trina, me and Jean. They put up such a fabulous show that night, and made us wonder when we would one day reach that level. *dreams* SO HOT RIGHT! Group picture of the girls from poledancing studio (and the pole wipers, hahaha)! Most of us were there to lend our support and voices and they were amazing! Back to her old self… she had inspired us to pick up the “reach out and pluck the rambutan gracefully” move. They requested it. Nikki and I with sexy Eunice, our instructor and motivator. I said must take full body view so can see my dress. Hahaha. Nikki looks damn chio here. The night ended with us heading for supper at River Valley Road before we gave Eunice a lift back and conveniently headed for another supper location. Tucked away in a quiet corner of Stagmont Ring, is this amazing dog-friendly place where we have been chilling quite often at. It has seating area for dog owners to have a beer or two, and their food is pretty decent and economically priced! An area for the dogs to run about, and the black fenced up area is actually a pool for the pups to have a dip! Absolutely sweet, sweet place. This is me and Tyson, a Bull Mastiff puppy. I wasn’t strangling him! Please don’t report me to SPCA! It was then I saw this lovely pup strolling around with staccato steps, revealing the leg problems it has. Fell in love with it and it was just so calm, and quiet, except when Tyson tried to kiss him. It was then the owner of the cafe told me how the boarding house has been a popular place for irresponsible owners to abandon their dogs. This pup (which I have since nicknamed him “my dog”) is old and has legs problem, and it was abandoned at the gate of the boarding house one day. He is just one of the many, including 3 labs which were sent over by the same owner, and he never came back for them. I got all teary just listening to the stories, and it perhaps explained why he always looked so… detached and morose. He looked on to the world with jaded eyes and he doesn’t get overly affectionate with anyone. It is because of him I keep returning. He is the only dog allowed to roam freely around the premises, and I always tell him he is very loved.. somehow that sounded silly.. but oh well. We left around 3am that night, and usually the cafe opens till 1ish am on weekdays. The address is No. 5 Stagmont Ring, further down the road from ten mile junction if anyone is interested in checking the place out! *** It was a beautiful Saturday, it indeed was *** The third piece I chose was obviously the grey floral bustier dress from the debut collection! It was made of light cotton and that was why I brought it with me for a hot day out during my trip! The material is very cooling and came with an inner lining too! And it also comes with the “secret” of padded bustier, that you can see lotsa.. uhm, illusions! Here’s some of the snippets of the trip (which I will do up a post soon!).. and everyone been asking me what’s that beautiful place, and the answer is.. It is Sri Lanka. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yah, I know, forsaking Sydney for Sri Lanka, many didn’t understand the logic behind my choice either, but I really liked what I saw, and decided to see them for myself. Again, you can see that I have paired it up with the butterfly belt that Jenn and Ling chose for me. I could even cross the river in it, heh. The dress comes in 3 colours and they have even shown different ways to wear it. I wore it to a nice dinner with a cropped jacket and it looks formal and presentable immediately. This was also the dress that when my pole mates saw, and unanimously liked *** Last but not least! casual embossed rose tank top I opted for this for its apparent simplicity but upon close up, you can see the nice gold trimming of the rose that gave it an unique texture. When I showed the pieces, many touched the material and complimented on its material. I would say it is damn sexy to wear without tights, but please only keep it in the bedrooms. With flash you can see the embossed rose more clearly. The material has a nice touch to it, and is really comfortable to wear. I wore it on the last day of the trip, and was looking forward to run about the trip and doing jumps in it, unfortunately we didn’t have the time to go down to the Colombo beach, and I only had time for a picture in the airport. Here, I coupled it with a pair of shorts, and it was the perfect thing to wear cos everyone had to be body searched at the airport, and I pretty much cleared without being touched much hahaha. *** The best part is Passion Chiffonier has plenty of tips on how to accessorise your outfits, that would decorate you from head to toe, so just pop over NOW to have a look at the brilliant goodies they have to offer! Simply go into the site, browse, and list your preferences in following format: Name: Email address: Item(s): Colour and Size (if applicable): And they will invoice you via email! That simple! Or leave a comment with your email and I am sure they would answer your queries promptly. If you can’t wait for their next launch like I do, just CLICK HERE to leave your email addresses to join their mailing list to be updated of the latest launches and get exclusive glimpses of the latest collections prior to launch. GO JOIN NOW NOW NOW! Like I said, I have grown to like the lovely duo, and I hope you guys can also show some support for the passionate duo by joining their mailing list, or their facebook page. And after spending 10 hours in front of my monitor punching backspace buttons, getting distracted, plus photoediting and shifting my site to a new host, I am now gonna nap for couple of hours! Happy shopping everyone, and have a great, great holiday weekend! Exes I think I need a holiday again. Like, NOOOOOOWWW!!! I know it is pretty greedy thing to ask of, but  since touching down on late Sunday night, I was knocked right back into reality when motherhood beckoned on Monday morning… Tuesday.. Wednesday.. Thursday.. and more of it with the holidays since she wouldn’t be heading to school. Tuesday and Wednesday were late nights at the studio and by the time I got back, barely had time to breathe before having some sleep and woke up with little sleep to start the day’s routine. Somehow along the way, in my sleep, I had this bad muscle knot pain.. which I woke up being helped out of bed cos I couldn’t turn my head, else it would shoot a sharp, numbing pain up my head and down my back. It was perhaps from the long period of time sitting in front of the monitor, which sucks, cos it means the pain kept me away from the monitor even more! Fortunately, Nikki was an ultimate blessing and her magic finger magically dissipated the nerve-y pain, and the healing is now just the plenty of muscle aches which are more bearable. At least I can check blind spots now! Seriously, I THINK AGE IS CALLING ME. So depressing! *** Exes.. are about the married men in my life. Sounds rather dodgy but Miss Scarlett Ting here has such a mundane, bland life that the most exciting thing that happened today is listening to Lady Gaga’s Telephone and was just thankful I didn’t shake my head in absolute disapproval and tsk tsk tsk to the risque display (WOOHOOO I STILL HAVE IT IN ME METHINKS!). But my lunch time these days are just peppered with lunch “dates” with married men, that if I start charging (ahem, NOT in THAT way), I probably wouldn’t need to look for a full time job. Most of them are ex-classmates, ex-colleagues, and with plenty of spare time on hand, maybe cos of transition, or just simply cos of job nature. I consider my situation a hybrid of both of the above. Laughs. Which explains. There was always moments me and these “Exes” actually paused to muse how it feels so taitai-ish, except that, their wives are out there working and we were sipping tea somewhere.. and always discussing other unexplored places for the next lunch. Having said that, catching up with all the long-time friends have proved to be fattening. Thomson Plaza sushi this day, Peperoni another, Sixth Avenue some day, Sunset Way another, Bukit Timah… TELL ME HOW LIKE THAT?! *** Ex #1 – The ex-classmate had been trying to get me to convince his wife to bake one in the oven, and was suggesting to bring his wife to visit me and Minibean one of these days. I was trying to tell him how that had made some of my friends sworn off kids. The last I know, the trauma wasn’t over yet hahahaha. Catching up with the ex-classmate was totally random, as we hadn’t seen each other for almost a decade and he had bumped into me after I had a massage during one of those afternoons, in Orchard. It was outside Pepper Lunch in Shaw Lido when someone called out to me. And both of us are the kind that we know each other always somewhere there, and mentioned by mutual friends, but never took the initiative to stay in contact, and would probably not bother to if not for the coincidence. And he was certainly one of those friends I have known for the longest time. 22 going 23 years. So the merciless taunting still continued after all these years, he had given me a nickname of Xiaopanpan after I giggled my way through about some of the names of the crushes I had in school. Or some relationships that built on way into adulthood with people from the past. And he was like “PAN JIN LIAN“, which met with a “Kan nin na” from me. Yet he actually gives me hope that loving husbands and responsible, mature men do exist. Those who are faithful, sweet and every nice thing he came across, was a thought link to how his wife would totally love it. 10 years and never cheated and you should see how his face was like when he spoke of her and his views on marriage and his commitment to her. Where can buy ah? I want one also! *** Ex #2 – The ex-colleague. Much things have changed for us since few years back. But then even in my previous job, we have met up pretty often and he was always like a papa guiding me along. We had Korean food the other day, and met for Thai buffet today. UNTIL. I was telling him about my ex-schoolmates and career choices, and then he mentioned something along the line that, “How old is he? He should stand a good chance.” “My age lah..” “Then like that should stand a good chance what.. he is 35 thereabout, right?” WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I JUST WANTED TO FLIP THE TABLE. Someone stabs me please. But I shall take in comfort that I have been mistaken to be university students (year 1 somemore) once too often in recent months. What can I say…? YOU ALL BLIND AH?! *** Ex #3. The ex-crush. This one has nothing to do with people I met up with. Just a little. Was just randomly talking about Mr KG (for those uninformed, the guy I had a crush on when I was 14, which, yes, more than half my life time ago) while keeping him anonymous, and it was silly to look back how this ex-crush had been so special to me all these years, cos perhaps he reminded me of who I was, but yet who I could never be. He isn’t supposed to be in this post, but oh well… heh. And he isn’t one of those married. Not YET, that is. *** Ex #4 – The excoworkercummentorcumbitchingkaki One of the most blessed thing in one of my ex-companies, was this co-worker of mine. He stayed in touch (which I am incredibly grateful when someone does so cos I can hardly find it within me to do so) and messaged me over MSN some days back but was so busy that I only managed to get back to him some couple of nights ago. So much has changed. It brought some relief to me, definitely. Then ah. We were discussing the ladies in the companies and their strengths, honestly I can’t remember why I actually said something and he went… “Yah, you are right, cos the girls in our team are actually guys….” The dagger into the chest was.. “….. All flat one.” !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So I mentioned a name of someone else, who obviously isn’t. The wise sage said, “But she’s not hot.” And he continued with the only takeaway of the evening, “You, XXX, and YYY (the other 3 girls in the team) are considered hot, just no tits….“. “… But good lah, or else I cannot work. I am a tits man man!“. Mr Critical had implied we are hot. That’s all we need to hear, and that’s all I heard. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I am looking forward to more quips when we catch up… well you guess it, over lunch soon. Exes I think I need a holiday again. Like, NOOOOOOWWW!!! I know it is pretty greedy thing to ask of, but  since touching down on late Sunday night, I was knocked right back into reality when motherhood beckoned on Monday morning… Tuesday.. Wednesday.. Thursday.. and more of it with the holidays since she wouldn’t be heading to school. Tuesday and Wednesday were late nights at the studio and by the time I got back, barely had time to breathe before having some sleep and woke up with little sleep to start the day’s routine. Somehow along the way, in my sleep, I had this bad muscle knot pain.. which I woke up being helped out of bed cos I couldn’t turn my head, else it would shoot a sharp, numbing pain up my head and down my back. It was perhaps from the long period of time sitting in front of the monitor, which sucks, cos it means the pain kept me away from the monitor even more! Fortunately, Nikki was an ultimate blessing and her magic finger magically dissipated the nerve-y pain, and the healing is now just the plenty of muscle aches which are more bearable. At least I can check blind spots now! Seriously, I THINK AGE IS CALLING ME. So depressing! *** Exes.. are about the married men in my life. Sounds rather dodgy but Miss Scarlett Ting here has such a mundane, bland life that the most exciting thing that happened today is listening to Lady Gaga’s Telephone and was just thankful I didn’t shake my head in absolute disapproval and tsk tsk tsk to the risque display (WOOHOOO I STILL HAVE IT IN ME METHINKS!). But my lunch time these days are just peppered with lunch “dates” with married men, that if I start charging (ahem, NOT in THAT way), I probably wouldn’t need to look for a full time job. Most of them are ex-classmates, ex-colleagues, and with plenty of spare time on hand, maybe cos of transition, or just simply cos of job nature. I consider my situation a hybrid of both of the above. Laughs. Which explains. There was always moments me and these “Exes” actually paused to muse how it feels so taitai-ish, except that, their wives are out there working and we were sipping tea somewhere.. and always discussing other unexplored places for the next lunch. Having said that, catching up with all the long-time friends have proved to be fattening. Thomson Plaza sushi this day, Peperoni another, Sixth Avenue some day, Sunset Way another, Bukit Timah… TELL ME HOW LIKE THAT?! *** Ex #1 – The ex-classmate had been trying to get me to convince his wife to bake one in the oven, and was suggesting to bring his wife to visit me and Minibean one of these days. I was trying to tell him how that had made some of my friends sworn off kids. The last I know, the trauma wasn’t over yet hahahaha. Catching up with the ex-classmate was totally random, as we hadn’t seen each other for almost a decade and he had bumped into me after I had a massage during one of those afternoons, in Orchard. It was outside Pepper Lunch in Shaw Lido when someone called out to me. And both of us are the kind that we know each other always somewhere there, and mentioned by mutual friends, but never took the initiative to stay in contact, and would probably not bother to if not for the coincidence. And he was certainly one of those friends I have known for the longest time. 22 going 23 years. So the merciless taunting still continued after all these years, he had given me a nickname of Xiaopanpan after I giggled my way through about some of the names of the crushes I had in school. Or some relationships that built on way into adulthood with people from the past. And he was like “PAN JIN LIAN“, which met with a “Kan nin na” from me. Yet he actually gives me hope that loving husbands and responsible, mature men do exist. Those who are faithful, sweet and every nice thing he came across, was a thought link to how his wife would totally love it. 10 years and never cheated and you should see how his face was like when he spoke of her and his views on marriage and his commitment to her. Where can buy ah? I want one also! *** Ex #2 – The ex-colleague. Much things have changed for us since few years back. But then even in my previous job, we have met up pretty often and he was always like a papa guiding me along. We had Korean food the other day, and met for Thai buffet today. UNTIL. I was telling him about my ex-schoolmates and career choices, and then he mentioned something along the line that, “How old is he? He should stand a good chance.” “My age lah..” “Then like that should stand a good chance what.. he is 35 thereabout, right?” WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I JUST WANTED TO FLIP THE TABLE. Someone stabs me please. But I shall take in comfort that I have been mistaken to be university students (year 1 somemore) once too often in recent months. What can I say…? YOU ALL BLIND AH?! *** Ex #3. The ex-crush. This one has nothing to do with people I met up with. Just a little. Was just randomly talking about Mr KG (for those uninformed, the guy I had a crush on when I was 14, which, yes, more than half my life time ago) while keeping him anonymous, and it was silly to look back how this ex-crush had been so special to me all these years, cos perhaps he reminded me of who I was, but yet who I could never be. He isn’t supposed to be in this post, but oh well… heh. And he isn’t one of those married. Not YET, that is. *** Ex #4 – The excoworkercummentorcumbitchingkaki One of the most blessed thing in one of my ex-companies, was this co-worker of mine. He stayed in touch (which I am incredibly grateful when someone does so cos I can hardly find it within me to do so) and messaged me over MSN some days back but was so busy that I only managed to get back to him some couple of nights ago. So much has changed. It brought some relief to me, definitely. Then ah. We were discussing the ladies in the companies and their strengths, honestly I can’t remember why I actually said something and he went… “Yah, you are right, cos the girls in our team are actually guys….” The dagger into the chest was.. “….. All flat one.” !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So I mentioned a name of someone else, who obviously isn’t. The wise sage said, “But she’s not hot.” And he continued with the only takeaway of the evening, “You, XXX, and YYY (the other 3 girls in the team) are considered hot, just no tits….“. “… But good lah, or else I cannot work. I am a tits man man!“. Mr Critical had implied we are hot. That’s all we need to hear, and that’s all I heard. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I am looking forward to more quips when we catch up… well you guess it, over lunch soon. A land like no other It took a while since my unemployment for me to finally get out of the country. Many planned plans went down the drain, and it is often the burst of spontaneity that would materialise a trip finally. Like a day trip to Batam, my first trip to Batam earlier, and more significantly, the country I just came back from. I said I would pause to think about what I would say I wouldn’t do. So it was one of those decisions that I stopped to question, and then grew to love. It was Sydney skiing trip, or this. In the end. The sense of adventure in the wanderlust of me, chose this. And boy, was it one of the most excited trip I ever had. It could even rival my excitement for Rome. For a place I initially scoffed at, I am surprised how much I found myself falling for it, and bonded with it within a really short time. And so, within a week, with whirlwind planning, and last minute preparation and packing, off to Terminal 1, not before scooting off for my pole prac (such an addict). Been to the airport so many times in the past few months, but finally it would be me who was flying off. And thus, this “vast out there” tag could be dusted off and used again. The highlights of my trip? And those who follow me on Twitter, would already have a pretty good idea of where I went to cos I couldn’t stop raving, and lavishing praises on this land – a land like no other. For someone who braved the sun and got sunburnt when she is so much of a winter coat girl.. it must be somewhere special. It is so special that I can’t wait to spread the word and show the world its hidden beauty. Such a gem exists, but often overlooked. A land that made me smile again. A land that would make me, write again (if my host doesn’t fail me again, that is). A land like no other It took a while since my unemployment for me to finally get out of the country. Many planned plans went down the drain, and it is often the burst of spontaneity that would materialise a trip finally. Like a day trip to Batam, my first trip to Batam earlier, and more significantly, the country I just came back from. I said I would pause to think about what I would say I wouldn’t do. So it was one of those decisions that I stopped to question, and then grew to love. It was Sydney skiing trip, or this. In the end. The sense of adventure in the wanderlust of me, chose this. And boy, was it one of the most excited trip I ever had. It could even rival my excitement for Rome. For a place I initially scoffed at, I am surprised how much I found myself falling for it, and bonded with it within a really short time. And so, within a week, with whirlwind planning, and last minute preparation and packing, off to Terminal 1, not before scooting off for my pole prac (such an addict). Been to the airport so many times in the past few months, but finally it would be me who was flying off. And thus, this “vast out there” tag could be dusted off and used again. The highlights of my trip? And those who follow me on Twitter, would already have a pretty good idea of where I went to cos I couldn’t stop raving, and lavishing praises on this land – a land like no other. For someone who braved the sun and got sunburnt when she is so much of a winter coat girl.. it must be somewhere special. It is so special that I can’t wait to spread the word and show the world its hidden beauty. Such a gem exists, but often overlooked. A land that made me smile again. A land that would make me, write again (if my host doesn’t fail me again, that is). Recharged Wanted to blog a post last Wednesday, and before I knew it, the site is down again, such unreliable hosting is really getting on my nerves, and I would have blogged pretty plenty if I had it. So I didn’t have the chance to announce of my plans to go away for a rather impromptu trip on Wednesday night, and boy was I glad I made the trip. Will write more, cos now, is time for me to back up and go catch some sleep Recharged Wanted to blog a post last Wednesday, and before I knew it, the site is down again, such unreliable hosting is really getting on my nerves, and I would have blogged pretty plenty if I had it. So I didn’t have the chance to announce of my plans to go away for a rather impromptu trip on Wednesday night, and boy was I glad I made the trip. Will write more, cos now, is time for me to back up and go catch some sleep Cervical cancer – A story to share I am uncertain where to start. This is a story I had been meaning to write about, but never quite had enough within me to share, though the closest around me would have heard about it along the way. I am not sure why it actually takes quite a lot out of me to be revisiting it, that I procrastinated writing this post for the longest time, and even as I am doing it now, I could feel the nerves tangling themselves up in a bundle. I swear my heart rate is increasing and my breaths are getting shallower, and I know this is what I have been avoiding to experience again, that’s why I very nearly wanted to give up writing this. It was no big deal. It should be no biggie. But perhaps this episode in my life had had much more implications than just something that had came and went, especially when it had happened at a time when I was pretty lost, ignorant and scared. I will be the first to admit it, I have a fear for pap smears. BIG, MASSIVE FEAR. I get all worked up and defensive whenever I have to go for my pap smears, and it is an emotional thing for me to do so that I would be on the verge of bursting into tears whenever I have to do one. It is not painful, it is nothing scary and it has something to do with the psychological fear more than anything else which I have since learnt to deal with these couple of years. But it has everything to do with my first pap smear. That very first one. And I know, it is a story that has to be shared, with each and every lady out there. *** So where do I start, really? It was in 2003, when I was 22, and I had already started blogging, but somehow this only appeared in fragments of subtlety. I know no one really believes in the bull about intuition, or grace of God if you don’t share the same faith as me, but I really have no other explanation than this. It was a day when I woke up and nothing felt right. I started crying for no particular reason, and there was a nagging thought in me which I tried to wave away. I must be mad, I thought to myself (AHEM, I know some of you already think I am, but still…!), but the tears and uneasiness didn’t stop. I remember it was one of those time when I MSN-ed (or should I say IRC) quite a bit with Faith, and somehow I was feeling so thoroughly miserable that I decided to speak to her. I told her I just felt something wasn’t right with me, and I wanted to see a doctor. I told her I have this incredible urge to see a gynaecologist because I am just so freaking scared. I told her I couldn’t stop crying with this nagging feeling. I told her I couldn’t understand why I feel this way especially since I had never done even a basic body check up prior to that day, and I just wanted to get my vijayjay and its neighbours checked. I told her it was my intuition and that I know I sounded pretty crazy to be over-reacting with all the tears. I MEAN SERIOUSLY, WHERE GOT PEOPLE WAKE UP AND FEEL THIS WAY ONE?! Instead of assuming I was really out of my mind and close the chat window reassuring me and asking me to brush the thoughts aside, she actually told me if it was upsetting me this much, why not just go for a check up to buy myself some peace of mind? Er… where to go for check up huh? I asked. Then, I remembered couple of days before I was having meals at Jurong East central and remembered this clinic for women. I then did a search and found its number. I even asked Faith if I should really call, cos I wasn’t working and moolah had meant quite a bit to me. But then again, I didn’t know how it was going to work, so I didn’t know other channels to go through (I mean, I could have gone to a GP right?). I was feeling a tad shy, and I called to ask if they have a female doctor, which they told me they do, but she would only be at the clinic 2 days of the week. Since it was a specialist clinic, it would mean appointments were pretty packed and since I was pretty clueless, I just said I wanted to see a gynae. For what? I was asked. Don’t know, just basic check up. Pregnant? No, am not. I couldn’t possibly say I woke up crying and wanted a check up cos I scared my female bits give up on me right?! So anyway, I said I wanted an appointment soonest possible, and a date was given. After making the appointment, the uneasiness worn off, and I got a tad regretful for over-reacting the way I did. And I half expected that when the day passed, I would end up thinking how silly I was, and cancelled the appointment. As the day progressed, I was ready to give the appointment a miss, and a call came in from the clinic to tell me that they have a cancellation on that very day. It was very last minute, and they have only one slot, the final slot for the day, at 6pm. Since it was on the very day itself when I called, I actually jumped on the opportunity to say yes, instead of cancelling. So off to the clinic I went. When I got to see Dr Chua, she asked me what was my concern, and I just said I wanted to do a check up, and what would she suggest. She suggested a pap smear, some blood tests and ultrasound was done to look at my ovaries, which she spotted some cysts. I was told to open up my legs cos I was just too shy, half giggled my way through. I felt something cold, and as I was making small talk with my gynae asking what the procedure was for and if I really had to do it, and it was over before I knew it. And that, marked my first pap smear, and perhaps the only one that was the easiest for me. I could still joke and make small talk, you know?! Cysts were my prime concern and other than that, I was sent home pretty promptly without much stuff to be concerned about. I didn’t have any sort of pain, didn’t have any funky discharge nor abnormal bleeding, nor did I offer any boarding space for things like cauliflowers and mushrooms. So off I went, feeling pretty alright, and a slight pinch from the bill, booboo-ing my earlier outburst, crediting it to a bout of PMS, and everything was left long forgotten. *** A call came in one afternoon a few days later. The clinic. I almost forgot why they would call me. There was a slight urgency in the caller’s voice when she identified herself, and she had called to ask if I had recently did my check up with Dr Chua. My pap smear had turned out abnormal and I was told to return for another check up to make sure the report was accurate. This is where my memory starts to get a little fuzzy, cos it was perhaps the point in time I tried to bury the whole episode. I was not nervous, cos I simply didn’t understand what an abnormal pap smear meant, but thought I could speak to my gynae to ask what it was all about. I got to speak to her, and she tried to assure me it was just further tests to eliminate possibilities, and then arranged for me to go for a biopsy (didn’t know what it was either!) with a certain A/Prof Arunachalam Ilancheran at NUH. An appointment was already set for me. I was pretty uncomfortable with the arrangement, because I had wanted to female gynae all along, but I was told that, for the field it was related to, there was no female gynae she could refer me to. That got me puzzled, greatly. Still, I thought nothing of it, so reluctantly agreed. And then, I relied greatly on the power of internet search to find out what an abnormal pap smear had meant, and what a biopsy is about. THAT WAS WHEN INTERNET TOLD ME WHAT MY GYNAE DIDN’T WANT TO SAY. Biopsy is done when there is a suspicion of cancerous cells, and an abnormal pap smear is a major concern. Still, I tried to keep cool, and that it must have been some kind of mistake (tsk, denial, denial, denial!). I still wasn’t as worried, as I was more concerned with showing my vijayjay to another male. The alarm bells rang when I got to NUH, and realised what my gynae had meant when she said he was the ideal person in that field, gynaecology + oncology. Oncology.. wait a minute.. isn’t that.. CANCER? WTF?! My gynae was there too for the biopsy. And I had such mix of emotions that I was confused, afraid, and very much in a daze. My legs were propped up onto the stirrups, and it was the most unpleasant thing that was told to me, perhaps cos I was feeling so apprehensive and guarded. I was told they needed more sample for further tests, and the biopsy would be done pretty swiftly with little discomfort. It was when I was told how it was done that I had great discomfort. A colposcope with a bulb (NOT THE NORMAL LIGHT BULB OKAY, MY VIJAYJAY CANNOT FIT!), magnifier & a camera would be inserted to view the cervix and yes, I watched my you-know-where close up on the monitor next to me. Not. sexy. at. all. Vinegar was then applied onto the walls, and the abnormal cells would then turn white. He then snipped a part of the tissue (not kleenex, my poor cervix) for sample, which would cause some bleeding, and the discomfort was cleverly masked when he asked me to cough. Results were out in a couple of days and this time, I think my female gynae called me. Personally. I was told my condition was actually more severe than they originally thought it was, and they would immediately slot me a date to go for treatment. If it was mild dysplasia, CIN I, no treatment would be required and it would usually go away on its own. I was told I had severe dysplasia, and it was CIN III (Severe dysplasia that spans more than 2/3 of the epithelium, and may involve the full thickness. This lesion may sometimes also be referred to as cervical carcinoma in situ) also considered as stage 0 cancer and surgery was needed ASAP as it would very swiftly progressed to Stage 1 cancer if not treated. The call ended with me in a daze. HUH? Cancer? WHY?! HOW?! Bear in mind that I had absolutely NO symptoms except for that weird hunch. Questions I failed to ask, I got my answers via Friend Google and Friend Yahoo. I then got acquainted with the term HPV. I remember calling up asking my gynae why, how and all the questions that came flooding my mind. Do I have HPV? WHY DO I HAVE HPV? The dilemma, the frustrations, the hurt, and boy, did I even feel a tad of betrayal. And most of all, shame. *** Everything defied logic. And cos it is a STI, who the hell can I even relate it to, except my then boyfriend without being judged? The lack of education on the issue made me incredibly helpless, and pretty much, had no one to turn to. Even from brochures or even the POCC sites these are the risk factors you should consider: 1) All women who have ever been sexually active 2) First sexual intercourse at young age 3) Multiple sexual partners in their lifetime 4) Smokers 5) Suffered from STDs I was 1) of course. But I was a late bloomer, cough. I wasn’t a slut when I was younger (not that I am now… but that’s subjective you see. HAHAHA. JOKE, OKAY?) and I wasn’t that sexually experienced. I was with a boyfriend whom I loved dearly, and we see each other 24/7 and I didn’t even hang out with other guys cos he didn’t like it that if HPV was airborne, I was unlikely to catch it either. I never did smoke prior to that. No STDs, from my earlier checkup. So I had to get it from SOMEWHERE, right? SO. That left me with questions for my gynae, I remember she had asked me not read too much into things. But I was young, I was ignorant. Then the answer was supposedly clear. You see, even if you are monogamous, or you only have ONE sexual partner, the sexual history of your partner would play a big part. Say, your partner, only had one partner prior to you, and you are a virgin, what if the partner before you had 3 partners, and those 3 partners had had 8 partner each, and the number had just grown exponentially. HPV does not have any symptoms for guys and neither for girls, and since it has not much effect on guys, and many ladies might have caught it which the body immune system would have overcome that. Back then, I only felt shame, and I did feel a tad bitter that I have something like this, that I plunged badly into depression, and the relationship was dealt quite an enormous blow as well. I couldn’t get my head around it and I just kept crying, and I was frustrated cos I had no outlet. No support. *** When the day of the surgery came, I remember I was so fearful that I was in a daze. That very morning, my then partner brought me to the Science Centre McDee’s for a meal, and got me one of those The Dog cushion. It was because I needed some form of cheering up from all the built up anxiety. I felt so resentful of the whole process that I was so hostile to the doctors and nurses and just couldn’t find it within me to go through with it. I shall shamefully admit that I even had wanted to kick the doctor away cos I didn’t want him near me. I was trembling so much that I actually reached out for the assuring nurse (till today, I can’t thank you enough) and she held my hand throughout. The process was relatively uncomplicated, it was the same stirrups in the same room I had my biopsy, you don’t even need an operating theatre. This time, it was excruciating because of the psychological barrier I had. I was trying so hard not to cry. Local anaesthesia was administered, and then the horror played out like a movie on the screen as I smelt it happening. Laser treatment means that the bad cells were burnt off and the sound and smell of it, still deeply etched in my mind for what was an absolutely traumatic experience for me. When I walked out, I was pale, perhaps cos from the fright, and I actually remember walking from the building to NUH main lobby by this linkway which had these automatic doors, I just had to collapse and sit with my back to the wall to absorb whatever had happened. In absolute dramatic fashion, I was clutching to the report which stated that I had HPV strain 16 (if I remember correctly) that had caused the lesions. I was alone (technically I wasn’t cos I had walked out on my own in my state of trance, but still, with no one understanding it, I felt I was all alone). I was scared. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t think anyone would understand. So that actually brought on a bout of depression cos of the anxiety, fear, and like I mentioned, shame. I was told to return back for check up to make sure all cells were removed, and I remember I was so upset that I asked does it mean if all weren’t removed, I would have to go thru it all over again. I returned, and I was clear. I was told to return every half a year for a pap smear, compared to the recommended once every 1 – 3 years. But I know a part of me wasn’t the same anymore, because of the stigma of having HPV, a sexually transmitted infection, and this was 7 years ago before campaigns raised the awareness and gave us more learned information on this. It is believed that 75% to 90% of those who are sexually active have HPV at some point of their lives. It could easily be you, and that your immune system couldn’t cope and help you recover. And because I had no one to turn to, or to get support from, not even my family knows about this, I was reluctant to return for my pap smears. It was only until last year, in year 2009, 6 years after my surgery, that I had returned to do a pap smear. Only because I had wanted to get an insurance policy for Minibean. It was not an easy task for me, for all the emotional turmoil and attachment I had associated pap smear with, and thankfully for all the great, great friends I had (whom I had to SMS throughout the entire process so they could cheer me on), whom I had opened up to and did not judge me for it, I got through it despite being so afraid of it. It was 6 years too late, I know, but I am glad I finally got through with it, and it didn’t feel half as bad, it wasn’t even painful. This year, I had returned to do my pap smear with polyclinic and am set to make it a yearly affair. Though the reception I had the polyclinic was a little different, cos of the history of CIN III, a doctor had to do the procedure and I was told to return within half a year. I was so relieved and happy when the pap smear results turned out normal. But most importantly, with the recent Power Over Cervical Cancer campaigns, it has helped me to overcome my initial fear and liberate the emotional burden I had, and pushed me to be more conscientious with protecting myself, cos seriously, 6 years for my pap smear when I am high at risk? That’s stupidity for you. *** Here are some important facts that I hope to share with ladies out there, and if you belong to the gender with hanging bits between your groins, it is crucial for you to take note and share it with people you care dearly for. In Singapore, cervical cancer takes the life of one woman every 5 days. About 200 new cases are diagnosed every year, with 100 of them not surviving it. Cervical cancer is when the cells in the cervix change or grow abnormally, thus the need for pap smear to detect the abnormality. Almost all cervical cancer is caused by HPV a virus which is very common, but not as commonly understood or heard. It could take decades to develop and you need not have cancer in the family history to develop it. Early stages of cervical cancer have no symptoms, and only a pap smear can detect it like it did for me. It is evident why this is a cause I strongly support and believe in, because that ONE pap smear, saved my life, and I really would hate to see people around me have to go through with what I had went thru, or are not lucky enough to detect it as early as I did. That’s why when the campaign had started couple of months back, I was quick to pledge my support for the cause. With the recent campaigns, more ladies know how to protect themselves from this with regular pap smears, but there would be some who would think they do not have any need to do so because they are low at risk, but I hope my example would make you think twice, and get your pap smear done soon. LIKE NOW! Go make your appointment ASAP. You need kaki, I can go give you moral support! *** And if your pap smear is clear, prevention can reduce the risk of cervical cancer greatly too. And if you are NOT sexually active, the vaccination is perfect for you cos it is aimed at those who are NOT YET sexually active (9 – 26 years old) before HPV could even sneak up on you. It may even be a good idea to vaccinate your child against HPV. I am all for the vaccination despite already had previous history of HPV. In fact, though I know that the vaccination would not prevent me against the strain of HPV I already had (which you might not even know you have), I made the decision to go for the vaccination as it could still help me prevent against other strains of cancer-causing HPV strains, and I might still benefit from it. Thanks to Nadnut’s invitation, I had my vaccination done on last Saturday at Dr Leslie Tay (OMG, he is the man behind ieatishootipost! -fangirl mode on-)’s clinic. I have to admit that I had put it off for the longest time as the cost was of issue to me and I wasn’t sure if the jab was gonna make much difference, but with the special offer and Dr Tay’s responses to my queries, I decided to go ahead. Thus, I would like to encourage those who have had past experiences with CIN, to also consider going for the jab to protect yourself from other strains of HPV. The jab was done at Dr Leslie Tay’s Karri Family Clinic at Tampines, and I was pretty surprised to see some fellow bloggers whom I have not seen in a long, long while there as well. I was incredibly late (not an Easterner, lost my way and crashed lightly into the cashcard machine cos I was in too much a daze) and was the last one to have my jab. It was over in a flash, less than a second, and I think I would have been out of the room less than 10 seconds if not of the camwhoring! Here’s how it went: He said if I could go through child birth (luckily detected early right, or else how such bundle of brilliance could come out of my you-know-where?!), this should be nothing. I was sulking not because from the needle, but because I was just too sick from the long journey! The jab was painless! Only thing was, my plaster was placed on my blood mole mistaken for the jab hole… And I got free stickers from the quite cute Dr Tay which I brought home for Minibean (okay, yes, they are disney princesses.. uhm.. hmm..). We will be back in a month’s time for the 2nd dosage, and then in another 6 months for the booster. If anyone of you are interested in getting your vaccination, do let me know and let’s see we can get a bulk discount, alright? Suddenly getting all these off the chest is such liberation. Truthfully, even I, who had went thru a close shave with cervical cancer have so much to learn still. And if you think it couldn’t happen to you, neither did I think it could happen to me. But, my first pap smear (and that strange intuition) did save my life. I was 22. Way below the average age of women diagnosed with cervical cancer (which is 40s). I did not appear to be in the high risk group. It hit me when I least expected it. Well, the only certainty in life, is uncertainty, isn’t it? It boils down to how prepared you are for uncertainty. Wah super long post, and bear in mind my cornea is scratched and I have double vision and tearing while writing this post which wasn’t as emotionally draining as I had anticipated it to be. Well. If this could help even ONE of you, or convince ONE of you to take charge of this uncertainty, it will be all worthwhile. *** Power Over Cervical Cancer is a campaign that aims to make Singapore the country with the lowest incidence of Cervical Cancer and they need your help to spread the word. Pledge your support for this cause and protect those you care about by telling them about Cervical Cancer. Together, we have POWER Over Cervical Cancer. Click the button below to begin! Cervical cancer – A story to share I am uncertain where to start. This is a story I had been meaning to write about, but never quite had enough within me to share, though the closest around me would have heard about it along the way. I am not sure why it actually takes quite a lot out of me to be revisiting it, that I procrastinated writing this post for the longest time, and even as I am doing it now, I could feel the nerves tangling themselves up in a bundle. I swear my heart rate is increasing and my breaths are getting shallower, and I know this is what I have been avoiding to experience again, that’s why I very nearly wanted to give up writing this. It was no big deal. It should be no biggie. But perhaps this episode in my life had had much more implications than just something that had came and went, especially when it had happened at a time when I was pretty lost, ignorant and scared. I will be the first to admit it, I have a fear for pap smears. BIG, MASSIVE FEAR. I get all worked up and defensive whenever I have to go for my pap smears, and it is an emotional thing for me to do so that I would be on the verge of bursting into tears whenever I have to do one. It is not painful, it is nothing scary and it has something to do with the psychological fear more than anything else which I have since learnt to deal with these couple of years. But it has everything to do with my first pap smear. That very first one. And I know, it is a story that has to be shared, with each and every lady out there. *** So where do I start, really? It was in 2003, when I was 22, and I had already started blogging, but somehow this only appeared in fragments of subtlety. I know no one really believes in the bull about intuition, or grace of God if you don’t share the same faith as me, but I really have no other explanation than this. It was a day when I woke up and nothing felt right. I started crying for no particular reason, and there was a nagging thought in me which I tried to wave away. I must be mad, I thought to myself (AHEM, I know some of you already think I am, but still…!), but the tears and uneasiness didn’t stop. I remember it was one of those time when I MSN-ed (or should I say IRC) quite a bit with Faith, and somehow I was feeling so thoroughly miserable that I decided to speak to her. I told her I just felt something wasn’t right with me, and I wanted to see a doctor. I told her I have this incredible urge to see a gynaecologist because I am just so freaking scared. I told her I couldn’t stop crying with this nagging feeling. I told her I couldn’t understand why I feel this way especially since I had never done even a basic body check up prior to that day, and I just wanted to get my vijayjay and its neighbours checked. I told her it was my intuition and that I know I sounded pretty crazy to be over-reacting with all the tears. I MEAN SERIOUSLY, WHERE GOT PEOPLE WAKE UP AND FEEL THIS WAY ONE?! Instead of assuming I was really out of my mind and close the chat window reassuring me and asking me to brush the thoughts aside, she actually told me if it was upsetting me this much, why not just go for a check up to buy myself some peace of mind? Er… where to go for check up huh? I asked. Then, I remembered couple of days before I was having meals at Jurong East central and remembered this clinic for women. I then did a search and found its number. I even asked Faith if I should really call, cos I wasn’t working and moolah had meant quite a bit to me. But then again, I didn’t know how it was going to work, so I didn’t know other channels to go through (I mean, I could have gone to a GP right?). I was feeling a tad shy, and I called to ask if they have a female doctor, which they told me they do, but she would only be at the clinic 2 days of the week. Since it was a specialist clinic, it would mean appointments were pretty packed and since I was pretty clueless, I just said I wanted to see a gynae. For what? I was asked. Don’t know, just basic check up. Pregnant? No, am not. I couldn’t possibly say I woke up crying and wanted a check up cos I scared my female bits give up on me right?! So anyway, I said I wanted an appointment soonest possible, and a date was given. After making the appointment, the uneasiness worn off, and I got a tad regretful for over-reacting the way I did. And I half expected that when the day passed, I would end up thinking how silly I was, and cancelled the appointment. As the day progressed, I was ready to give the appointment a miss, and a call came in from the clinic to tell me that they have a cancellation on that very day. It was very last minute, and they have only one slot, the final slot for the day, at 6pm. Since it was on the very day itself when I called, I actually jumped on the opportunity to say yes, instead of cancelling. So off to the clinic I went. When I got to see Dr Chua, she asked me what was my concern, and I just said I wanted to do a check up, and what would she suggest. She suggested a pap smear, some blood tests and ultrasound was done to look at my ovaries, which she spotted some cysts. I was told to open up my legs cos I was just too shy, half giggled my way through. I felt something cold, and as I was making small talk with my gynae asking what the procedure was for and if I really had to do it, and it was over before I knew it. And that, marked my first pap smear, and perhaps the only one that was the easiest for me. I could still joke and make small talk, you know?! Cysts were my prime concern and other than that, I was sent home pretty promptly without much stuff to be concerned about. I didn’t have any sort of pain, didn’t have any funky discharge nor abnormal bleeding, nor did I offer any boarding space for things like cauliflowers and mushrooms. So off I went, feeling pretty alright, and a slight pinch from the bill, booboo-ing my earlier outburst, crediting it to a bout of PMS, and everything was left long forgotten. *** A call came in one afternoon a few days later. The clinic. I almost forgot why they would call me. There was a slight urgency in the caller’s voice when she identified herself, and she had called to ask if I had recently did my check up with Dr Chua. My pap smear had turned out abnormal and I was told to return for another check up to make sure the report was accurate. This is where my memory starts to get a little fuzzy, cos it was perhaps the point in time I tried to bury the whole episode. I was not nervous, cos I simply didn’t understand what an abnormal pap smear meant, but thought I could speak to my gynae to ask what it was all about. I got to speak to her, and she tried to assure me it was just further tests to eliminate possibilities, and then arranged for me to go for a biopsy (didn’t know what it was either!) with a certain A/Prof Arunachalam Ilancheran at NUH. An appointment was already set for me. I was pretty uncomfortable with the arrangement, because I had wanted to female gynae all along, but I was told that, for the field it was related to, there was no female gynae she could refer me to. That got me puzzled, greatly. Still, I thought nothing of it, so reluctantly agreed. And then, I relied greatly on the power of internet search to find out what an abnormal pap smear had meant, and what a biopsy is about. THAT WAS WHEN INTERNET TOLD ME WHAT MY GYNAE DIDN’T WANT TO SAY. Biopsy is done when there is a suspicion of cancerous cells, and an abnormal pap smear is a major concern. Still, I tried to keep cool, and that it must have been some kind of mistake (tsk, denial, denial, denial!). I still wasn’t as worried, as I was more concerned with showing my vijayjay to another male. The alarm bells rang when I got to NUH, and realised what my gynae had meant when she said he was the ideal person in that field, gynaecology + oncology. Oncology.. wait a minute.. isn’t that.. CANCER? WTF?! My gynae was there too for the biopsy. And I had such mix of emotions that I was confused, afraid, and very much in a daze. My legs were propped up onto the stirrups, and it was the most unpleasant thing that was told to me, perhaps cos I was feeling so apprehensive and guarded. I was told they needed more sample for further tests, and the biopsy would be done pretty swiftly with little discomfort. It was when I was told how it was done that I had great discomfort. A colposcope with a bulb (NOT THE NORMAL LIGHT BULB OKAY, MY VIJAYJAY CANNOT FIT!), magnifier & a camera would be inserted to view the cervix and yes, I watched my you-know-where close up on the monitor next to me. Not. sexy. at. all. Vinegar was then applied onto the walls, and the abnormal cells would then turn white. He then snipped a part of the tissue (not kleenex, my poor cervix) for sample, which would cause some bleeding, and the discomfort was cleverly masked when he asked me to cough. Results were out in a couple of days and this time, I think my female gynae called me. Personally. I was told my condition was actually more severe than they originally thought it was, and they would immediately slot me a date to go for treatment. If it was mild dysplasia, CIN I, no treatment would be required and it would usually go away on its own. I was told I had severe dysplasia, and it was CIN III (Severe dysplasia that spans more than 2/3 of the epithelium, and may involve the full thickness. This lesion may sometimes also be referred to as cervical carcinoma in situ) also considered as stage 0 cancer and surgery was needed ASAP as it would very swiftly progressed to Stage 1 cancer if not treated. The call ended with me in a daze. HUH? Cancer? WHY?! HOW?! Bear in mind that I had absolutely NO symptoms except for that weird hunch. Questions I failed to ask, I got my answers via Friend Google and Friend Yahoo. I then got acquainted with the term HPV. I remember calling up asking my gynae why, how and all the questions that came flooding my mind. Do I have HPV? WHY DO I HAVE HPV? The dilemma, the frustrations, the hurt, and boy, did I even feel a tad of betrayal. And most of all, shame. *** Everything defied logic. And cos it is a STI, who the hell can I even relate it to, except my then boyfriend without being judged? The lack of education on the issue made me incredibly helpless, and pretty much, had no one to turn to. Even from brochures or even the POCC sites these are the risk factors you should consider: 1) All women who have ever been sexually active 2) First sexual intercourse at young age 3) Multiple sexual partners in their lifetime 4) Smokers 5) Suffered from STDs I was 1) of course. But I was a late bloomer, cough. I wasn’t a slut when I was younger (not that I am now… but that’s subjective you see. HAHAHA. JOKE, OKAY?) and I wasn’t that sexually experienced. I was with a boyfriend whom I loved dearly, and we see each other 24/7 and I didn’t even hang out with other guys cos he didn’t like it that if HPV was airborne, I was unlikely to catch it either. I never did smoke prior to that. No STDs, from my earlier checkup. So I had to get it from SOMEWHERE, right? SO. That left me with questions for my gynae, I remember she had asked me not read too much into things. But I was young, I was ignorant. Then the answer was supposedly clear. You see, even if you are monogamous, or you only have ONE sexual partner, the sexual history of your partner would play a big part. Say, your partner, only had one partner prior to you, and you are a virgin, what if the partner before you had 3 partners, and those 3 partners had had 8 partner each, and the number had just grown exponentially. HPV does not have any symptoms for guys and neither for girls, and since it has not much effect on guys, and many ladies might have caught it which the body immune system would have overcome that. Back then, I only felt shame, and I did feel a tad bitter that I have something like this, that I plunged badly into depression, and the relationship was dealt quite an enormous blow as well. I couldn’t get my head around it and I just kept crying, and I was frustrated cos I had no outlet. No support. *** When the day of the surgery came, I remember I was so fearful that I was in a daze. That very morning, my then partner brought me to the Science Centre McDee’s for a meal, and got me one of those The Dog cushion. It was because I needed some form of cheering up from all the built up anxiety. I felt so resentful of the whole process that I was so hostile to the doctors and nurses and just couldn’t find it within me to go through with it. I shall shamefully admit that I even had wanted to kick the doctor away cos I didn’t want him near me. I was trembling so much that I actually reached out for the assuring nurse (till today, I can’t thank you enough) and she held my hand throughout. The process was relatively uncomplicated, it was the same stirrups in the same room I had my biopsy, you don’t even need an operating theatre. This time, it was excruciating because of the psychological barrier I had. I was trying so hard not to cry. Local anaesthesia was administered, and then the horror played out like a movie on the screen as I smelt it happening. Laser treatment means that the bad cells were burnt off and the sound and smell of it, still deeply etched in my mind for what was an absolutely traumatic experience for me. When I walked out, I was pale, perhaps cos from the fright, and I actually remember walking from the building to NUH main lobby by this linkway which had these automatic doors, I just had to collapse and sit with my back to the wall to absorb whatever had happened. In absolute dramatic fashion, I was clutching to the report which stated that I had HPV strain 16 (if I remember correctly) that had caused the lesions. I was alone (technically I wasn’t cos I had walked out on my own in my state of trance, but still, with no one understanding it, I felt I was all alone). I was scared. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t think anyone would understand. So that actually brought on a bout of depression cos of the anxiety, fear, and like I mentioned, shame. I was told to return back for check up to make sure all cells were removed, and I remember I was so upset that I asked does it mean if all weren’t removed, I would have to go thru it all over again. I returned, and I was clear. I was told to return every half a year for a pap smear, compared to the recommended once every 1 – 3 years. But I know a part of me wasn’t the same anymore, because of the stigma of having HPV, a sexually transmitted infection, and this was 7 years ago before campaigns raised the awareness and gave us more learned information on this. It is believed that 75% to 90% of those who are sexually active have HPV at some point of their lives. It could easily be you, and that your immune system couldn’t cope and help you recover. And because I had no one to turn to, or to get support from, not even my family knows about this, I was reluctant to return for my pap smears. It was only until last year, in year 2009, 6 years after my surgery, that I had returned to do a pap smear. Only because I had wanted to get an insurance policy for Minibean. It was not an easy task for me, for all the emotional turmoil and attachment I had associated pap smear with, and thankfully for all the great, great friends I had (whom I had to SMS throughout the entire process so they could cheer me on), whom I had opened up to and did not judge me for it, I got through it despite being so afraid of it. It was 6 years too late, I know, but I am glad I finally got through with it, and it didn’t feel half as bad, it wasn’t even painful. This year, I had returned to do my pap smear with polyclinic and am set to make it a yearly affair. Though the reception I had the polyclinic was a little different, cos of the history of CIN III, a doctor had to do the procedure and I was told to return within half a year. I was so relieved and happy when the pap smear results turned out normal. But most importantly, with the recent Power Over Cervical Cancer campaigns, it has helped me to overcome my initial fear and liberate the emotional burden I had, and pushed me to be more conscientious with protecting myself, cos seriously, 6 years for my pap smear when I am high at risk? That’s stupidity for you. *** Here are some important facts that I hope to share with ladies out there, and if you belong to the gender with hanging bits between your groins, it is crucial for you to take note and share it with people you care dearly for. In Singapore, cervical cancer takes the life of one woman every 5 days. About 200 new cases are diagnosed every year, with 100 of them not surviving it. Cervical cancer is when the cells in the cervix change or grow abnormally, thus the need for pap smear to detect the abnormality. Almost all cervical cancer is caused by HPV a virus which is very common, but not as commonly understood or heard. It could take decades to develop and you need not have cancer in the family history to develop it. Early stages of cervical cancer have no symptoms, and only a pap smear can detect it like it did for me. It is evident why this is a cause I strongly support and believe in, because that ONE pap smear, saved my life, and I really would hate to see people around me have to go through with what I had went thru, or are not lucky enough to detect it as early as I did. That’s why when the campaign had started couple of months back, I was quick to pledge my support for the cause. With the recent campaigns, more ladies know how to protect themselves from this with regular pap smears, but there would be some who would think they do not have any need to do so because they are low at risk, but I hope my example would make you think twice, and get your pap smear done soon. LIKE NOW! Go make your appointment ASAP. You need kaki, I can go give you moral support! *** And if your pap smear is clear, prevention can reduce the risk of cervical cancer greatly too. And if you are NOT sexually active, the vaccination is perfect for you cos it is aimed at those who are NOT YET sexually active (9 – 26 years old) before HPV could even sneak up on you. It may even be a good idea to vaccinate your child against HPV. I am all for the vaccination despite already had previous history of HPV. In fact, though I know that the vaccination would not prevent me against the strain of HPV I already had (which you might not even know you have), I made the decision to go for the vaccination as it could still help me prevent against other strains of cancer-causing HPV strains, and I might still benefit from it. Thanks to Nadnut’s invitation, I had my vaccination done on last Saturday at Dr Leslie Tay (OMG, he is the man behind ieatishootipost! -fangirl mode on-)’s clinic. I have to admit that I had put it off for the longest time as the cost was of issue to me and I wasn’t sure if the jab was gonna make much difference, but with the special offer and Dr Tay’s responses to my queries, I decided to go ahead. Thus, I would like to encourage those who have had past experiences with CIN, to also consider going for the jab to protect yourself from other strains of HPV. The jab was done at Dr Leslie Tay’s Karri Family Clinic at Tampines, and I was pretty surprised to see some fellow bloggers whom I have not seen in a long, long while there as well. I was incredibly late (not an Easterner, lost my way and crashed lightly into the cashcard machine cos I was in too much a daze) and was the last one to have my jab. It was over in a flash, less than a second, and I think I would have been out of the room less than 10 seconds if not of the camwhoring! Here’s how it went: He said if I could go through child birth (luckily detected early right, or else how such bundle of brilliance could come out of my you-know-where?!), this should be nothing. I was sulking not because from the needle, but because I was just too sick from the long journey! The jab was painless! Only thing was, my plaster was placed on my blood mole mistaken for the jab hole… And I got free stickers from the quite cute Dr Tay which I brought home for Minibean (okay, yes, they are disney princesses.. uhm.. hmm..). We will be back in a month’s time for the 2nd dosage, and then in another 6 months for the booster. If anyone of you are interested in getting your vaccination, do let me know and let’s see we can get a bulk discount, alright? Suddenly getting all these off the chest is such liberation. Truthfully, even I, who had went thru a close shave with cervical cancer have so much to learn still. And if you think it couldn’t happen to you, neither did I think it could happen to me. But, my first pap smear (and that strange intuition) did save my life. I was 22. Way below the average age of women diagnosed with cervical cancer (which is 40s). I did not appear to be in the high risk group. It hit me when I least expected it. Well, the only certainty in life, is uncertainty, isn’t it? It boils down to how prepared you are for uncertainty. Wah super long post, and bear in mind my cornea is scratched and I have double vision and tearing while writing this post which wasn’t as emotionally draining as I had anticipated it to be. Well. If this could help even ONE of you, or convince ONE of you to take charge of this uncertainty, it will be all worthwhile. *** Power Over Cervical Cancer is a campaign that aims to make Singapore the country with the lowest incidence of Cervical Cancer and they need your help to spread the word. Pledge your support for this cause and protect those you care about by telling them about Cervical Cancer. Together, we have POWER Over Cervical Cancer. Click the button below to begin! Deep It is evident that I have lost interest in words. All I have to do is to reach out.. to search through all those memories that had meant so much to me, to find those words again. I could feel the tiny frustrations building up as I just couldn’t emote the way I used to, or let my thoughts flow deftly through my fingertips. I know what’s wrong. But I can’t fix it. My reluctance to write has everything to do with my refusal to dig, search, pore deep within again. Simply because I am afraid of what I might find there, simply because I am scared that I might not come back from that limbo. Trying. And being extra careful not to tip the balance. *** I searched thoroughly just to look for something that meant much to me. Your presence was felt as I plunged into a whirlpool of history we shared. I held my breath as I barrier myself from the nostalgia of it all. Carefully, glazing over the words that once meant much, shut off every skip of heartbeat the moment certain words triggered.. something. Then I found it. The one thing that meant so much more to me than you would ever do, or you ever did. And the memory bank was locked up securely again. For good, I hope. *** Half a lifetime of memories. You shouldn’t matter. But how could you not, it was half a lifetime of memories, however vague. You were one memory I refused to lock up. I thought I must have done so somewhere along the way. Apparently, I had naively underestimated you and let you run loose. *** You defeated my confidence, but you showed me how I could ever love, abundantly and fearlessly, and on the other spectrum, fearfully. You showed me so many things though so many years had passed. I tried to remember how we first started, and it turned up a blur, and then did I realise how deep into the recesses I had locked you away into. Perhaps because, you had once meant everything to me. And made me realise, a snap of fingers is all it took for you to become someone I never knew. Wherever you are, be well, cos it just doesn’t make sense that someone I ever feel so much for can become such a stranger. Especially when I slowed my pace and reminisced, I remembered how I once felt. It felt real, though it probably is losing its shine in the jam packed boxes of memories. Then, I was reminded, of all the years I thought I had forgotten how it felt like, I felt it all over again. *** It was me, you said. I am in denial that I was the one who took you away, from me, from us. *** It is intimidating to know that I am feeling all those feelings I had kept hidden away. I am afraid the day the tsunami of the past will just claim me as a fatality. And it is scary to know that you can still feel for every of those people who had left an impact in your life, at the same time (oh gee, such a slut, hahaha), as if those feelings had never left you, and you conveniently forgot the bads, the hurts, the flaws that had made all of the above became stories of the impossible. Deep It is evident that I have lost interest in words. All I have to do is to reach out.. to search through all those memories that had meant so much to me, to find those words again. I could feel the tiny frustrations building up as I just couldn’t emote the way I used to, or let my thoughts flow deftly through my fingertips. I know what’s wrong. But I can’t fix it. My reluctance to write has everything to do with my refusal to dig, search, pore deep within again. Simply because I am afraid of what I might find there, simply because I am scared that I might not come back from that limbo. Trying. And being extra careful not to tip the balance. *** I searched thoroughly just to look for something that meant much to me. Your presence was felt as I plunged into a whirlpool of history we shared. I held my breath as I barrier myself from the nostalgia of it all. Carefully, glazing over the words that once meant much, shut off every skip of heartbeat the moment certain words triggered.. something. Then I found it. The one thing that meant so much more to me than you would ever do, or you ever did. And the memory bank was locked up securely again. For good, I hope. *** Half a lifetime of memories. You shouldn’t matter. But how could you not, it was half a lifetime of memories, however vague. You were one memory I refused to lock up. I thought I must have done so somewhere along the way. Apparently, I had naively underestimated you and let you run loose. *** You defeated my confidence, but you showed me how I could ever love, abundantly and fearlessly, and on the other spectrum, fearfully. You showed me so many things though so many years had passed. I tried to remember how we first started, and it turned up a blur, and then did I realise how deep into the recesses I had locked you away into. Perhaps because, you had once meant everything to me. And made me realise, a snap of fingers is all it took for you to become someone I never knew. Wherever you are, be well, cos it just doesn’t make sense that someone I ever feel so much for can become such a stranger. Especially when I slowed my pace and reminisced, I remembered how I once felt. It felt real, though it probably is losing its shine in the jam packed boxes of memories. Then, I was reminded, of all the years I thought I had forgotten how it felt like, I felt it all over again. *** It was me, you said. I am in denial that I was the one who took you away, from me, from us. *** It is intimidating to know that I am feeling all those feelings I had kept hidden away. I am afraid the day the tsunami of the past will just claim me as a fatality. And it is scary to know that you can still feel for every of those people who had left an impact in your life, at the same time (oh gee, such a slut, hahaha), as if those feelings had never left you, and you conveniently forgot the bads, the hurts, the flaws that had made all of the above became stories of the impossible. Wheelchair bound It has been a pretty terrible Sunday. I had prayed extensively since this noon when I woke up and thankfully as Sunday’s end is nigh, I am finally functioning enough to blog. Well, it was the result of too fabulous a Saturday. As always, you take some, you give some, and the trade off would mean waking up on a Sunday, barely able to open your right eye, and when you open your left eye, the pain on your right eye automatically weighs down your left. So. I couldn’t keep my eyes opened for more than 30 seconds, before my right eye would go into a teary mess. The teary mess in turn creates a stinging, burning sensation in the right eye… that brings on further discomfort, and more tearing.. and you think to yourself how this is certainly not the way you expect your dysfunctional tearducts to start working again. I tried to close each eye to survey the damage. I know I was in pretty big trouble when my right eye’s vision was a perpetual blur, even with the glasses on. I can be pressing my nose into my handphone screen and I still cannot make out the words on my phone. That’s how bad my vision is. When my vision was accessed, I had trouble even making out the finger numbering when the Medical Officer was just a meter from me. But besides the bad vision, the inability to open my eyes was what I was really worried about. I didn’t care if I was a fashion disaster, and I just grabbed whatever I could get my hands on to change and headed out. And with daylight at its full glory, my photosensitive eyes switched on the waterworks pretty swiftly. I sat in my car and knew I probably could keep my left eye opened for only 5 seconds before I had to close them to will the discomfort and pain away. Was sent to a nearby clinic to see a GP, one of the very few clinics opened on a Sunday (tsk! Of all days!). He said it could be contact lens infection and dispensed the usual SOP advises that if I could open my eyes when he was talking, he would probably see me rolling them. His advice was to go down to the A & E, simply cos it was a Sunday, no eye doctors around, and my eyes were impairing my daily routines, so much so that when I alighted at the carpark, I didn’t once open my eyes as I was helped to the clinic and my eyes still didn’t stop tearing. The blurred vision was giving me giddiness, and the sun was starting to make my photosensitive eyes too painful for me to handle. I thought I might just collapse. It didn’t make any sense to me cos I was just having a swollen, painful eye, but I didn’t understand how it was bringing me this much discomfort. Decided to head to A & E since it was a Sunday and I didn’t wanna sit on it till Monday cos I wanna know how serious it is and make necessary arrangements for Minibean’s school tomorrow, and as I am going on a trip on Wednesday, this eye issue really sets out to be the dampener of everything. I was dropped off at the entrance, and since it was too bright and my eyes were tearing constantly, I had to stagger a little and my hands were out in the air searching for the pillars and beams. The giddiness certainly wasn’t helping. Before I knew it, I heard someone’s voice, and I managed to peep out of my left eye (which perhaps due to the swollenness, despite it being okay, I could only open 1/3 of it, and I felt like I was fighting sleep) to see a paramedic came to me and insisting on helping me. I told him I was perfectly fine and it was nothing serious and he told me sternly to let him do his job, which perhaps involves him not letting anyone walk into any pillars/onto the paves of the ambulances and damaging the property in the process. So before I knew it, with total embarrassment, he had asked for a wheelchair and an assistant came to strap me into it. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No need so drama right?! My protests went unheard. I even shared that when I was in labour and my water broke, I didn’t even use a wheelchair. But I have to say throughout the process, I didn’t even quite open my eyes to see how they look like or even take down their names. I cannot even start saying how embarrassed I was. I cannot decide if I would be more embarrassed in a wheelchair or walking into the walls. I think at that point of time, sitting in a wheelchair was more embarrassing than anything else. And when I was supposed to take out my IC, I couldn’t see and I ended up taking out my MBS (cough, it means nothing, really) card. DUH. It was such a boring wait since I couldn’t see anything to read but I managed to have my little indulgences when I peeped out of my left eye to tweet within 30 seconds and then bear with the excruciating pain to my right eye it brought… cos boredom triumphs pain in my dictionary. That is my good eye you see in the picture, it was also swollen and opened to the max as it could. IMAGINE THE EYE THAT WAS BAD?! Superbly embarrassing to be “parked” at the wheelchair zone. The bruises on my arms and legs make it seem like I was more like an abuse victim than anything else, and my eyes probably looked like they were punched. Went to the Triage (would have taken pictures if I could see, a camwhore never changes her hiaoness) with help since I couldn’t see the numbers flashing, did some depressing tests to know my eyesight was pretty screwed, went to see another doctor who dripped some stinging iodine or something into my eye, before referring me to the eye doctor. The eye doctor then did some tests to show my cornea has quite a bit of a cut, asked me to stop using the solution given to me by the GP cos it was going to build more toxins in the eye, and then I was sent home after being charged with a hefty bill. I had to lie down throughout the journey home cos it was making me freaking unwell. Got home, skipped dinner and went straight to bed after making arrangements so that Minibean would be cared for by her grandparents over the next few days. I was pretty glad I did some housework yesterday so that I don’t have to struggle with the chores cos I don’t think it would be pretty if I walk into the walls. When I woke up, Minibean gave me a ready hug before I sent her off, feeling a bit morose cos I had wanted to spend the time with her this week, but I probably would be home bound for a while so I don’t become a safety hazard so that means no ferrying services. Bummer. Besides that, I would really weep if I miss the beauty of the place I am leaving for, so praying for speedy recovery. But thankfully, my eyes are good enough for me after the nap and medication to shut one eye and blog this post, and hopefully, I can finish 4 posts by tonight so I don’t have to fret over the limited time I have on hands. Another note, it is quite terrifying to go through the day without depending on my sight. It was as if I couldn’t hear as well, and eating without looking at my food was not as appetising as well. Had to sharpen other senses consciously so I could gain a bit of confidence going thru the motions today. I regret taking my sight for granted everytime I abuse my eyes with prolonged lens wearing, or when I get stingy over eye care (monthly lens become bimonthly, or simply the laziness of not changing the solution in the casing). But when I cannot see clearly, and the colours are not as vivid, it depresses me greatly. Even typing depends largely on “feeeeeeling” you know? Will promise to be good to my eyes after this episode. YI HOU BU GAN LE! *pulls my ears* (GASP! Just tried to select all + copy the entry like I always do in case you know, the internet screws me in the arse which happened once too many times. Then my vision caused me to select PASTE. And my post disappeared. Heart nearly wanna stopped, but thankfully the Undo button worked twice round! Yay!) Extra: I just took off my glasses to put my medication. I am actually wondering if the cut to my cornea is like, uh, lasik. My short sightedness is bad, and that means I normally can’t see things too far a distance away. Just now my injured eye actually managed to see some words 2 metres away though it is blur, it is still sharper than my left eye. Which is strange cos my right eye can’t see anything near, have I became long sighted in one eye?! On top of the pulled hamstring I have (which apparently I pulled the front muscle of the same left thigh, tsk), I think this week is really not my week. Hmphf. Wheelchair bound It has been a pretty terrible Sunday. I had prayed extensively since this noon when I woke up and thankfully as Sunday’s end is nigh, I am finally functioning enough to blog. Well, it was the result of too fabulous a Saturday. As always, you take some, you give some, and the trade off would mean waking up on a Sunday, barely able to open your right eye, and when you open your left eye, the pain on your right eye automatically weighs down your left. So. I couldn’t keep my eyes opened for more than 30 seconds, before my right eye would go into a teary mess. The teary mess in turn creates a stinging, burning sensation in the right eye… that brings on further discomfort, and more tearing.. and you think to yourself how this is certainly not the way you expect your dysfunctional tearducts to start working again. I tried to close each eye to survey the damage. I know I was in pretty big trouble when my right eye’s vision was a perpetual blur, even with the glasses on. I can be pressing my nose into my handphone screen and I still cannot make out the words on my phone. That’s how bad my vision is. When my vision was accessed, I had trouble even making out the finger numbering when the Medical Officer was just a meter from me. But besides the bad vision, the inability to open my eyes was what I was really worried about. I didn’t care if I was a fashion disaster, and I just grabbed whatever I could get my hands on to change and headed out. And with daylight at its full glory, my photosensitive eyes switched on the waterworks pretty swiftly. I sat in my car and knew I probably could keep my left eye opened for only 5 seconds before I had to close them to will the discomfort and pain away. Was sent to a nearby clinic to see a GP, one of the very few clinics opened on a Sunday (tsk! Of all days!). He said it could be contact lens infection and dispensed the usual SOP advises that if I could open my eyes when he was talking, he would probably see me rolling them. His advice was to go down to the A & E, simply cos it was a Sunday, no eye doctors around, and my eyes were impairing my daily routines, so much so that when I alighted at the carpark, I didn’t once open my eyes as I was helped to the clinic and my eyes still didn’t stop tearing. The blurred vision was giving me giddiness, and the sun was starting to make my photosensitive eyes too painful for me to handle. I thought I might just collapse. It didn’t make any sense to me cos I was just having a swollen, painful eye, but I didn’t understand how it was bringing me this much discomfort. Decided to head to A & E since it was a Sunday and I didn’t wanna sit on it till Monday cos I wanna know how serious it is and make necessary arrangements for Minibean’s school tomorrow, and as I am going on a trip on Wednesday, this eye issue really sets out to be the dampener of everything. I was dropped off at the entrance, and since it was too bright and my eyes were tearing constantly, I had to stagger a little and my hands were out in the air searching for the pillars and beams. The giddiness certainly wasn’t helping. Before I knew it, I heard someone’s voice, and I managed to peep out of my left eye (which perhaps due to the swollenness, despite it being okay, I could only open 1/3 of it, and I felt like I was fighting sleep) to see a paramedic came to me and insisting on helping me. I told him I was perfectly fine and it was nothing serious and he told me sternly to let him do his job, which perhaps involves him not letting anyone walk into any pillars/onto the paves of the ambulances and damaging the property in the process. So before I knew it, with total embarrassment, he had asked for a wheelchair and an assistant came to strap me into it. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No need so drama right?! My protests went unheard. I even shared that when I was in labour and my water broke, I didn’t even use a wheelchair. But I have to say throughout the process, I didn’t even quite open my eyes to see how they look like or even take down their names. I cannot even start saying how embarrassed I was. I cannot decide if I would be more embarrassed in a wheelchair or walking into the walls. I think at that point of time, sitting in a wheelchair was more embarrassing than anything else. And when I was supposed to take out my IC, I couldn’t see and I ended up taking out my MBS (cough, it means nothing, really) card. DUH. It was such a boring wait since I couldn’t see anything to read but I managed to have my little indulgences when I peeped out of my left eye to tweet within 30 seconds and then bear with the excruciating pain to my right eye it brought… cos boredom triumphs pain in my dictionary. That is my good eye you see in the picture, it was also swollen and opened to the max as it could. IMAGINE THE EYE THAT WAS BAD?! Superbly embarrassing to be “parked” at the wheelchair zone. The bruises on my arms and legs make it seem like I was more like an abuse victim than anything else, and my eyes probably looked like they were punched. Went to the Triage (would have taken pictures if I could see, a camwhore never changes her hiaoness) with help since I couldn’t see the numbers flashing, did some depressing tests to know my eyesight was pretty screwed, went to see another doctor who dripped some stinging iodine or something into my eye, before referring me to the eye doctor. The eye doctor then did some tests to show my cornea has quite a bit of a cut, asked me to stop using the solution given to me by the GP cos it was going to build more toxins in the eye, and then I was sent home after being charged with a hefty bill. I had to lie down throughout the journey home cos it was making me freaking unwell. Got home, skipped dinner and went straight to bed after making arrangements so that Minibean would be cared for by her grandparents over the next few days. I was pretty glad I did some housework yesterday so that I don’t have to struggle with the chores cos I don’t think it would be pretty if I walk into the walls. When I woke up, Minibean gave me a ready hug before I sent her off, feeling a bit morose cos I had wanted to spend the time with her this week, but I probably would be home bound for a while so I don’t become a safety hazard so that means no ferrying services. Bummer. Besides that, I would really weep if I miss the beauty of the place I am leaving for, so praying for speedy recovery. But thankfully, my eyes are good enough for me after the nap and medication to shut one eye and blog this post, and hopefully, I can finish 4 posts by tonight so I don’t have to fret over the limited time I have on hands. Another note, it is quite terrifying to go through the day without depending on my sight. It was as if I couldn’t hear as well, and eating without looking at my food was not as appetising as well. Had to sharpen other senses consciously so I could gain a bit of confidence going thru the motions today. I regret taking my sight for granted everytime I abuse my eyes with prolonged lens wearing, or when I get stingy over eye care (monthly lens become bimonthly, or simply the laziness of not changing the solution in the casing). But when I cannot see clearly, and the colours are not as vivid, it depresses me greatly. Even typing depends largely on “feeeeeeling” you know? Will promise to be good to my eyes after this episode. YI HOU BU GAN LE! *pulls my ears* (GASP! Just tried to select all + copy the entry like I always do in case you know, the internet screws me in the arse which happened once too many times. Then my vision caused me to select PASTE. And my post disappeared. Heart nearly wanna stopped, but thankfully the Undo button worked twice round! Yay!) Extra: I just took off my glasses to put my medication. I am actually wondering if the cut to my cornea is like, uh, lasik. My short sightedness is bad, and that means I normally can’t see things too far a distance away. Just now my injured eye actually managed to see some words 2 metres away though it is blur, it is still sharper than my left eye. Which is strange cos my right eye can’t see anything near, have I became long sighted in one eye?! On top of the pulled hamstring I have (which apparently I pulled the front muscle of the same left thigh, tsk), I think this week is really not my week. Hmphf. Fairytales Someone should have banned me from motherhood. While reading bed time story to Minibean today… Mummy, reading from the book, “… the seven dwarfs -sniggers- laid her -muffled laughs- in the glass coffin… wahahahahaha” Minibean: Mummy why you laughing? Why funny? “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, nothing you should know.” And then… as I read on, I added in things on my own. “The necrophile of a prince passed by Snow White’s glass coffin and fell in love with her beauty…..” Honestly, is it me or most children stories are so warped? Jack and the beanstalk glamourised a burglar, Goldilocks and her bad manners… the Ugly Ducklings speaks of the importance of looks (it says the moral is to learn to love your true self, but that’s only because it eventually became beautiful, or else what would become of it?!), Pied Piper and his mass child abduction, and many more others which I have came to learn through those children stories DVD and I wasn’t the only raising my eyebrows sometimes. Don’t even get me started on The Princess and the Pea – about a young woman whose royal identity is established by a test of her physical sensitivity. And it has nothing to do with the fact that we have been trying to locate that mysterious pea to test our physical sensitivity. But, the story is about a prince who wanted a real princess for a wife and refused to marry all those he was set up with. And he wanted to ascertain this girl is a real princess by placing a pea in the bedding. I mean, how shallow can he get? Must have real princess then can get married huh? So other ideal candidates with solid characters are being scoffed at for being a non-princess?! Then it doesn’t give hope to people who believe in Cinderellas (ahem, like yours truly). “…. that she endured a sleepless night, kept awake by something hard in the bed; which she is certain has bruised her. The prince rejoices. Only a real princess would have the sensitivity to feel a pea through such a quantity of bedding.” Sorry, my mind is just too deep down in the gutter. Or maybe, it was just the more subtle way of looking for a virgin bride. Fairytales Someone should have banned me from motherhood. While reading bed time story to Minibean today… Mummy, reading from the book, “… the seven dwarfs -sniggers- laid her -muffled laughs- in the glass coffin… wahahahahaha” Minibean: Mummy why you laughing? Why funny? “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, nothing you should know.” And then… as I read on, I added in things on my own. “The necrophile of a prince passed by Snow White’s glass coffin and fell in love with her beauty…..” Honestly, is it me or most children stories are so warped? Jack and the beanstalk glamourised a burglar, Goldilocks and her bad manners… the Ugly Ducklings speaks of the importance of looks (it says the moral is to learn to love your true self, but that’s only because it eventually became beautiful, or else what would become of it?!), Pied Piper and his mass child abduction, and many more others which I have came to learn through those children stories DVD and I wasn’t the only raising my eyebrows sometimes. Don’t even get me started on The Princess and the Pea – about a young woman whose royal identity is established by a test of her physical sensitivity. And it has nothing to do with the fact that we have been trying to locate that mysterious pea to test our physical sensitivity. But, the story is about a prince who wanted a real princess for a wife and refused to marry all those he was set up with. And he wanted to ascertain this girl is a real princess by placing a pea in the bedding. I mean, how shallow can he get? Must have real princess then can get married huh? So other ideal candidates with solid characters are being scoffed at for being a non-princess?! Then it doesn’t give hope to people who believe in Cinderellas (ahem, like yours truly). “…. that she endured a sleepless night, kept awake by something hard in the bed; which she is certain has bruised her. The prince rejoices. Only a real princess would have the sensitivity to feel a pea through such a quantity of bedding.” Sorry, my mind is just too deep down in the gutter. Or maybe, it was just the more subtle way of looking for a virgin bride. Inception This movie is definitely worthy of a post of its own. But well, spoilers are ahead and skip it if you don’t want anything to give the plot away. Had wanted to catch it at Gold Class after knowing the lengthiness of this film, but every seat was fully booked even though it was late afternoon when I had checked for the film schedules. Even the midnight shows were packed to the brim on the Saturday where a theme dinner took place that saw me struggled my way into a kebaya and hoping it wouldn’t drop to my ankles at any point of the night. Quickly changed into some common clothes, or else I would stick out like a sore thumb, as if I just walked off the set of Little Nonya or something. The other couple was there early to secure the seats, while other motherly duties, like buying milk powder at 11pm, took priority. Nonetheless, I was adamant about watching the movie the very day, and there was no compromise, simply cos the amount of tweets that had flooded my twitter about the show had piqued my interest, and I was brain-teased enough to want to satisfy that curiosity, and more importantly, didn’t want anyone else to spoil the mystery behind the show for me before I get to the theatres. And gee, was I glad to finally catch it, and it didn’t even matter that it wasn’t Gold Class, cos I certainly did not feel the time pass with such a mesmerising, amazing show. How do I even begin? Complex plot like what people had raved about, but Christopher Nolan’s brilliant cinematography and geniosity pretty much made sure that the common you, me, him, her are not lost in the twists to the point that the interest is lost. Is it as complicated as much of the others had said…? I think I must have lacked something up there that I had failed to dwell and think deeper to see much to be mind-fucked. I had pretty much enjoyed the show at literal value, and just let it led me emotionally. It wasn’t quite the physics of the dreams or the plot that made me feel that it was a good show. It was just that.. it was utterly provocative. Be it be mentally, or emotionally. I found myself drawn into the show sensually, because it was visually, emotionally, and just mentally stimulating, and you could feel it manipulating your senses, and for me, it was just so haunting that towards the end, I was in denial. Especially the ending. I chose to believe what I had wished for. And perhaps, this is the very thing the director had wanted to put it into our minds.. that the power of suggestion would very much stay on even after the show to cast the doubts in us. We would then trace every single step back, and even try to read into things that might not even mean to be anything.. just because. And it might really be nothing because.. we were guided step by step, weren’t we (maybe I am too slow and missed something here?)? Since I tried to watch it simply, and not over complicate it that might potentially smear a captivating movie, the only time I got mind-fucked (well, in ANOTHER way) was probably the time when Joseph Gordon-Levitt graced the screen and I was giggling away like a schoolgirl with my breath held. Sorry, where were we? Ah. The cast. The stellar cast… I am not sure if Leonardo DiCaprio’s Titanic reputation precedes him that much that no one seems to take him seriously. But can you think of a BAD LeoDi movie even if you are not a fan of his? Neither can I. There is always a certain depth to them (ironically, Titanic maybe is the one with most depth.. ocean, right? Wahahaha, lame joke.. shoot me please) and there is no way you can say he is a bad actor just because he is too much of a pretty boy. There is a parallel I could draw with Inception and Shutter Island, but Inception is a piece of art with the way the pieces are brought together while maintaining the film’s commericiality. But the cast was distinctive with the characters fleshed up by the people playing them. I enjoyed all their performances. The pace was impeccably timed for the concurrent 3 stories to run side by side, and everything was so amped up that I could not recall a lull in the movie. The idea of how vast our minds are while sleeping, and how it could liberate us from limits and boundaries. I know this is a bit off topic, but the most vivid dream I ever had, was one that was layered. Strange as it sounds, but it was a dream that freaked me out the most, ever, but the dream within the dream was the one that was the most realistic that my senses remembered for a very, very long time. Okay, I am no Christopher Nolan, so there is no way I could describe it creatively, and convincingly without sounding I am half a lunatic. Not that I think anyone want to steal my dreams, but if my dreams are ever intruded and Christopher Nolan wanna make a movie of it, it would be a meat fest of different yummy men and be rated child unfriendly. Nolan might need to venture into another film market which uhm, giggles, might work better with credit cards. Cough.. s… l… u.. t… cough. Why do I keep steering off topic?!?! Anyway. After watching the movie, I actually thought it is damn possible to transcend logic and venture into another world via our dreams, and the expansive imagination to engineer an original set for dreams to be set in.. WOW. Just wow. Wonderland wouldn’t have charmed me that much compared to a universe closer to reality created by the mind. It is very much the little things and all the elements that make this show works for me, though people might feel an extreme of if it was overhyped, too complicated, too simple, too commercial, too… overrated. Got action, got sci-fi, got romance, got friendship, got hot men, got mentor-ship, got family, got things being blown up, got hot men, got gun fight, got children (*sniff sniff*), got inner struggles, got hot men and everyone kinda survived. Did I mention Tom Hardy, Joseph Gordon Levitt, and Cillian Murphy? Nuff said. But it was refreshing from the usual plots, and it certainly worked for me to be one of the more enjoyable movies in a long, long while. Worth a watch, and if at the end of the movie, he didn’t care if the totem fall, perhaps I shouldn’t be too caught up with how I wished it did (and thus, ignoring all the other signs), and then it had became a dream come true for him. He’s happy, he has found what he had been looking for. So, regardless, so what if it was the reality or not? And that was how, the genius of a director had left us with a buzz to carry on guessing. The power of suggestion. The power of Inception, pun fully intended. Well, it is real, as long as you believe. Inception This movie is definitely worthy of a post of its own. But well, spoilers are ahead and skip it if you don’t want anything to give the plot away. Had wanted to catch it at Gold Class after knowing the lengthiness of this film, but every seat was fully booked even though it was late afternoon when I had checked for the film schedules. Even the midnight shows were packed to the brim on the Saturday where a theme dinner took place that saw me struggled my way into a kebaya and hoping it wouldn’t drop to my ankles at any point of the night. Quickly changed into some common clothes, or else I would stick out like a sore thumb, as if I just walked off the set of Little Nonya or something. The other couple was there early to secure the seats, while other motherly duties, like buying milk powder at 11pm, took priority. Nonetheless, I was adamant about watching the movie the very day, and there was no compromise, simply cos the amount of tweets that had flooded my twitter about the show had piqued my interest, and I was brain-teased enough to want to satisfy that curiosity, and more importantly, didn’t want anyone else to spoil the mystery behind the show for me before I get to the theatres. And gee, was I glad to finally catch it, and it didn’t even matter that it wasn’t Gold Class, cos I certainly did not feel the time pass with such a mesmerising, amazing show. How do I even begin? Complex plot like what people had raved about, but Christopher Nolan’s brilliant cinematography and geniosity pretty much made sure that the common you, me, him, her are not lost in the twists to the point that the interest is lost. Is it as complicated as much of the others had said…? I think I must have lacked something up there that I had failed to dwell and think deeper to see much to be mind-fucked. I had pretty much enjoyed the show at literal value, and just let it led me emotionally. It wasn’t quite the physics of the dreams or the plot that made me feel that it was a good show. It was just that.. it was utterly provocative. Be it be mentally, or emotionally. I found myself drawn into the show sensually, because it was visually, emotionally, and just mentally stimulating, and you could feel it manipulating your senses, and for me, it was just so haunting that towards the end, I was in denial. Especially the ending. I chose to believe what I had wished for. And perhaps, this is the very thing the director had wanted to put it into our minds.. that the power of suggestion would very much stay on even after the show to cast the doubts in us. We would then trace every single step back, and even try to read into things that might not even mean to be anything.. just because. And it might really be nothing because.. we were guided step by step, weren’t we (maybe I am too slow and missed something here?)? Since I tried to watch it simply, and not over complicate it that might potentially smear a captivating movie, the only time I got mind-fucked (well, in ANOTHER way) was probably the time when Joseph Gordon-Levitt graced the screen and I was giggling away like a schoolgirl with my breath held. Sorry, where were we? Ah. The cast. The stellar cast… I am not sure if Leonardo DiCaprio’s Titanic reputation precedes him that much that no one seems to take him seriously. But can you think of a BAD LeoDi movie even if you are not a fan of his? Neither can I. There is always a certain depth to them (ironically, Titanic maybe is the one with most depth.. ocean, right? Wahahaha, lame joke.. shoot me please) and there is no way you can say he is a bad actor just because he is too much of a pretty boy. There is a parallel I could draw with Inception and Shutter Island, but Inception is a piece of art with the way the pieces are brought together while maintaining the film’s commericiality. But the cast was distinctive with the characters fleshed up by the people playing them. I enjoyed all their performances. The pace was impeccably timed for the concurrent 3 stories to run side by side, and everything was so amped up that I could not recall a lull in the movie. The idea of how vast our minds are while sleeping, and how it could liberate us from limits and boundaries. I know this is a bit off topic, but the most vivid dream I ever had, was one that was layered. Strange as it sounds, but it was a dream that freaked me out the most, ever, but the dream within the dream was the one that was the most realistic that my senses remembered for a very, very long time. Okay, I am no Christopher Nolan, so there is no way I could describe it creatively, and convincingly without sounding I am half a lunatic. Not that I think anyone want to steal my dreams, but if my dreams are ever intruded and Christopher Nolan wanna make a movie of it, it would be a meat fest of different yummy men and be rated child unfriendly. Nolan might need to venture into another film market which uhm, giggles, might work better with credit cards. Cough.. s… l… u.. t… cough. Why do I keep steering off topic?!?! Anyway. After watching the movie, I actually thought it is damn possible to transcend logic and venture into another world via our dreams, and the expansive imagination to engineer an original set for dreams to be set in.. WOW. Just wow. Wonderland wouldn’t have charmed me that much compared to a universe closer to reality created by the mind. It is very much the little things and all the elements that make this show works for me, though people might feel an extreme of if it was overhyped, too complicated, too simple, too commercial, too… overrated. Got action, got sci-fi, got romance, got friendship, got hot men, got mentor-ship, got family, got things being blown up, got hot men, got gun fight, got children (*sniff sniff*), got inner struggles, got hot men and everyone kinda survived. Did I mention Tom Hardy, Joseph Gordon Levitt, and Cillian Murphy? Nuff said. But it was refreshing from the usual plots, and it certainly worked for me to be one of the more enjoyable movies in a long, long while. Worth a watch, and if at the end of the movie, he didn’t care if the totem fall, perhaps I shouldn’t be too caught up with how I wished it did (and thus, ignoring all the other signs), and then it had became a dream come true for him. He’s happy, he has found what he had been looking for. So, regardless, so what if it was the reality or not? And that was how, the genius of a director had left us with a buzz to carry on guessing. The power of suggestion. The power of Inception, pun fully intended. Well, it is real, as long as you believe. I would never Remember how I set out to make 2010 different? Oh boy, different it has been. Just a tad more and I would have pretty much what I had wanted to do during this period of time, and it has been pretty awesome, though at times the doubts set in pretty promptly, but faith has pretty much tide me through and brought opportunities I didn’t think possible. Lack of blogposts were contributed by poor hosting, a lack of motivation since I pretty much wall up quite a bit and doubt this space is still active, an inability to find words… and having major distractions like the yummy men running on the field playing the occasional fabulous games of football, or like how this post was halted in between to make milk, brush Minibean’s teeth, and washing her bum bum after she pooped. Sometime within the next few minutes, I have to change her and then get my chauffeur duties done, before a lunch date with an old, old chum of mine. You can say I have arrived at auntiedom, or that I am tai-let right now since there is nowhere I am near full blown taitaidom as savings are depleting faster than my energy level each day handling a toddler who is at her most active and curious stage. Without concentration to let words flow freely and abundantly, the reflective me-time I used to spend liberally has became a luxury. Only reminders of those things that happened in the past 7 months have taken forms in scattered drafts just to remind myself I would one day jot them down. Like.. the many things that happened or came to mind. Keeping fingers crossed that my ambitious target of 4 blogposts by the end of this week is not too impossible, especially since this month only saw me posting a miserable post, the lowest churn rate since this space kicked into operation 7 years ago. Now, they say about the 7 year itch. It seems very real now. *** Though I have not ventured onto fulfilling my bucket list during this time, but I thought what would be nice and different is to always pause to put things into another perspective whenever I make a decision. Like, many people would wanna do what they always set out to do. This time, I told myself I would do things that I thought I would never do. Like, public speaking, bungee jumping blarblarblar, things like that, and NOT along the lines of “I would never do John Terry and become a Chelsea fan”. So an impromptu trip was kicked into motion and though I had an option to go to somewhere cooler and more likely to be somewhere I would go… I immediately stopped to reconsider my other option which I had originally scoffed at. And all it took was half an hour for me to change my mind and decide to go to a new country, new city to explore a place I never thought I would go. The excitement and the anticipation is even greater than what I had felt when going to a place of familiarity. I think plunging into an unknown does bring me thrills. Can’t wait for the surprises (including those that might be unpleasant) await. Let’s just hope I survive. No land mines. No malaria. No… well, anything that would make this space permanently quiet. Heh. I would never Remember how I set out to make 2010 different? Oh boy, different it has been. Just a tad more and I would have pretty much what I had wanted to do during this period of time, and it has been pretty awesome, though at times the doubts set in pretty promptly, but faith has pretty much tide me through and brought opportunities I didn’t think possible. Lack of blogposts were contributed by poor hosting, a lack of motivation since I pretty much wall up quite a bit and doubt this space is still active, an inability to find words… and having major distractions like the yummy men running on the field playing the occasional fabulous games of football, or like how this post was halted in between to make milk, brush Minibean’s teeth, and washing her bum bum after she pooped. Sometime within the next few minutes, I have to change her and then get my chauffeur duties done, before a lunch date with an old, old chum of mine. You can say I have arrived at auntiedom, or that I am tai-let right now since there is nowhere I am near full blown taitaidom as savings are depleting faster than my energy level each day handling a toddler who is at her most active and curious stage. Without concentration to let words flow freely and abundantly, the reflective me-time I used to spend liberally has became a luxury. Only reminders of those things that happened in the past 7 months have taken forms in scattered drafts just to remind myself I would one day jot them down. Like.. the many things that happened or came to mind. Keeping fingers crossed that my ambitious target of 4 blogposts by the end of this week is not too impossible, especially since this month only saw me posting a miserable post, the lowest churn rate since this space kicked into operation 7 years ago. Now, they say about the 7 year itch. It seems very real now. *** Though I have not ventured onto fulfilling my bucket list during this time, but I thought what would be nice and different is to always pause to put things into another perspective whenever I make a decision. Like, many people would wanna do what they always set out to do. This time, I told myself I would do things that I thought I would never do. Like, public speaking, bungee jumping blarblarblar, things like that, and NOT along the lines of “I would never do John Terry and become a Chelsea fan”. So an impromptu trip was kicked into motion and though I had an option to go to somewhere cooler and more likely to be somewhere I would go… I immediately stopped to reconsider my other option which I had originally scoffed at. And all it took was half an hour for me to change my mind and decide to go to a new country, new city to explore a place I never thought I would go. The excitement and the anticipation is even greater than what I had felt when going to a place of familiarity. I think plunging into an unknown does bring me thrills. Can’t wait for the surprises (including those that might be unpleasant) await. Let’s just hope I survive. No land mines. No malaria. No… well, anything that would make this space permanently quiet. Heh. Siempre con nosotros I am an emotional mess. I am moved by such overwhelming joy, seeing Spain has come such a long way to make history tonight. When my Elvish Prince broke down in tears, I just felt the surge of emotions making their ways to the tear ducts and they were just uncontrollable. I just sat there and soaked in every single emotion displayed…. .. the unadulterated joy, the pure ecstasy to be top of the world… and the brilliance when the stadium was lit up by the fireworks, and marked the fairytale (well, at least to me, it was) ending. My heart went out to the Dutch as they sat there, despondent, yet with great sportsmanship, flanked the champions as they descended to the pitch with the prize in hands. Though I might have a word or 2 on the level and amount of fouling which tainted the game. They say it is only Mark van Bommel, but gee, he definitely isn’t alone! When Netherlands played Brazil, Brazil had commented that Netherlands play South American style football.. now we know why. I am now slightly apprehensive to wear Orange anytime soon, in case I become somewhat violent too. Cross me and I might just stamp you in your chest! I have been lucky that I didn’t get my heart broken so far with all the world cup finals, but I know the blow will be too hard to take that I kept repeating to myself how lower expectations will bring lesser pain with build up to the match. Especially with my Azzurri out of the competition, my hopes and happiness were hanging on the sometimes inconsistent Spain, which I prayed and wished for a night of splendor on the night it matters most. And with my kind of jinx, I tried very hard not to show too much blatant support to jinx the team I support. Not even the Oracle Octopus could buy me a peace of mind. Apparently, judging from the facebook and twitter responses, most people are actually not in favour of a Spanish win. Have to say that I was surprised to see Netherlands seemingly run out of steam towards the end, and the goal just killed them. They seemed to give up there and then and didn’t see the need to fight back. I was expected higher level of resistance from this team cos I did have very high expectations of them. I have so much to say but with so much emotions build up, I shall go savour this moment of glory by such a brilliant team, and ease the tension I put my mind and body through. You know, some moments call for clenching the butt cheeks quite often… I thought I was gonna have a heart attack or something and gonna die too soon as I waited for the final whistle with bated breath. And when it finally did, it was a fiesta! I have been waiting for the day my Elvish prince to shine and become King. And he finally did. A warm, thoughtful touch from the match winner of the night, was for the team mate who had passed on too immaturely at the prime of his life – Dani Jarque – siempre con nosotros. Always with us. And I believe, this team would like to dedicate this victory to him. Congrats Spain, all these years of emotional investment finally got some positive ROI, laughs. The moment of pride when they wore the scarlet tops with a star.. the men grinning like boys.. the bad singing from my Elvish King.. the instance the cup was lifted and the confetti rained. A virgin victory. One that holds so much meaning behind it. Etched into the history books. Unlike the last world cup when I am happy, laughing, jumping and screaming, this year’s world cup win is a much more emotional one, where it is lingering, and hauntingly so. If it was few days earlier, I might just empty an entire box of tissue. I might as well confess that I was so emotionally earlier this week that I was triggered by Waka waka MTV to actually break down and sob. I remember how silly and emotional that moment was. I mean, really, what the fuck right? To actually wanna break down just because of a fucking waka waka MTV?! Well, that’s hormones for you. Will write more when I am more coherant. I think I might just have sweet dreams of me on the pitch, part of the Spanish celebration You guys have come a long way, baybeh.