Restructure- on your own terms

2012-01-26T00:27:00.001+11:00

I love Billie Holiday's version the best.

Solitude lyrics
Songwriters: Delange, Eddie; Mills, Irving; Ellington, Edward;

In my solitude
You haunt me
With dreadful ease
Of days gone by

In my solitude
You taunt me
With memories
That never die

I sit in my chair
And filled with despair
There's no one could be so sad
With gloom everywhere
I sit and I stare
I know that I'll soon go mad

In my solitude
I'm afraid
Dear Lord above
Send back my love

I sit in my chair
And filled with despair
There's no one could be so sad
With gloom everywhere
I sit and I stare
I know that I'll soon go mad

In my solitude
I'm afraid
Dear Lord above
Send me back my love

© MILLS MUSIC INC; FAMOUS MUSIC CORP;

2012-01-16T22:53:00.003+11:00

2012

My first entry of the year.

Wow, it's already 2012.

I spent my new year on the road travelling from Sydney back to Sad Town after our week long trip in Port Vila, Vanuatu.

Tucked away in this beautiful island staying in one of those traditional thatched bungalows called fares, I did not have any air-conditioning, TV or internet. Surprisingly, for the first time in many years, my sinuses cleared up.

The seas were beautiful as was the people and its surroundings.

DL and I made a few expat business people friends and being the opportunistic me, I took the opportunity to find out more about the property prices, view a couple of plots of land about to be cleared for development, living costs and labour costs. I can see ourselves living there in the future, with some careful planning.

Each night, DL and I turned in relatively early. Him before myself and I lay on the day bed taking stock of how I have spent Christmas and New Year in the last few years. Each time my thoughts moved back to December 2007 where I felt I had the best time of my twenty something years where V and I were swinging bachelorettes (both of us recently single.) It was the last of my happy days- it was a wild summer- I finally met the Old Boy, had an awesome time with boys with V and then V met her current husband...

Anyway first forward to 2012 and how things have transited and moved on.

So here I was in Vanuatu. I had always wanted to visit the South Pacific Islands. The clear blue seas was as I have imagined. I beached bummed a bit, drank lots of kava (what is so "disgusting" about it? I thought it tasted just like Chinese medicine), ate lots of food and fruit (for once) and indulged in lots of different activities ranging from zorbing (scary for someone with a phobia for water) to basket weaving.

We came back to Australia thinking we might do some serious due dilligence regarding a subdivided plot of land due to be developed into a golf course. But the following weekend, I found a deal too hard to resist on the property market in Sad Town. We put down a deposit for a one bedroom apartment with the lake view on a private residence island in the yuppie part of Sad Town with a half a million dollar price tag. So the Vanuatu opportunity will have to wait. As one happily retired and wealthy expat we met advised us " Invest here when you are ready and not when they (the developer) are ready".

*****

I felt an impending sense of excitement for 2012. I don't know why but I did.

Perhaps it is a year to really get things done.

Whilst I am still trying to find myself at nearly turning 33 years young, I received the tragic news from B yesterday that one of our classmates (whom I used to be rather chummy with) has passed away suddenly leaving her young daughter and husband behind in America. She was suddenly diagnosed with cancer in her brain. The tumour was as big as a tennis ball and could have been removed. But she got a heart seizure and it took her. It seemed like it all happened so suddenly. A few weeks ago, her facebook status said she was trying to make chicken rice and then now dead. Gone.

So suddenly. So young.

At the start of the year, I had asked Someone Up There/ Universe to open up doors for me. Doors for opportunities and a way to go to fashion school without breaking my bank account. Then the opportunity came where I suddenly was inspired to re-visit a particular school online for further information. Voila! There it had everything I needed- old school European sewing techniques, part-time courses, a manageable and affordable payment plan and an excellent mentor.

So yes, I start next week. The principal and teacher is a master couturier with extensive experience in Paris and Italy and whom used to dress the darlings of Sydney's high societies and Australian prime ministers' wives. I cannot wait as it has been a long time coming.

My ex-classmate's untimely death reinforces the need for me to cherish life and live it like it may well end and most importantly, to take care of my body and health. I will be travelling to Sydney every weekend to study and back, whilst working on expanding our business.

I am looking forward to a fulfilling life ahead. 2012 will be a challenging but interesting year.

I say, bring it on!

2011-12-20T17:15:00.002+11:00

Le Pamplemouse

I was just checking out the menu of a famous restaurant in Port Vila that I have booked dinner for two on Boxing Day.

Given that there is limited service during the festive week, I thought it is best that I get myself organised and pre-order my dinner. Freshly caught lobsters from the nearby beach are definitely a must for mains. I heard that the souffle is another highly rated dessert in that dining establishment. Now I just needed to look for two entrees and another dessert.

I came across a dessert that says pamplemouse served with vodka and ice-cream. Not knowing what a "pamplemouse" is, I did a quick google for a definition.

The first one that came up from Urban Dictionary. The definition is " to suck all of a woman's clitoral and labial flesh into ones mouth then bite it."

Hmmm... I thought. That couldn't be it. Not on a restaurant menu. I looked further and found another more likely definition of the object in question. It is a grapefruit.

Is it just me being outdated?

Or does anyone actually is aware that le pamplemouse meant the act of that?

I must be getting old already.

2011-12-12T20:32:00.012+11:00

Looking for Updates?

Yes, I am still alive.

What can I say?

Life is so far so good. I have been back in our business for the past three weeks and loving it.

I am loving it for the hours- I work a lot less and we make heaps more.

I have more time for our not so newly adopted pooch, Rusty. She has plumped up heaps and her fur is as soft as her late sister's. People at the dog park commented on how soft her fur is and how good looking she is. Little did they know how sheddy and rough her fur used to be.

I watch with pride and contentment at how DL and I could transform an abandoned senior dog who came to us in relatively poor condition into such a beautiful and responsive beauty. She no longer greets us with her blank stare in her pet bed but is always promptly waiting to meet and greet us eagerly at the door when she hears the remote control garage door open up despite her weak hind legs.

What the secret formula, you might ask? Lots of love with lots of organic food and bones and tons of Chinese herbs, homeopathy and accupunture I would say. No expenses spared. We sent her bloods to America for testing and anything the holistic vet advised for us to do in order for her to do her job well so as to help nourish Rusty back to health. Plus Rusty gets lots of socialisation with the other dogs in the dog park.

I marvel each day at how wonderful it had been for us to have met our Rusty and how we could have missed her if not for the fact that our local pet rescue had saved her from death row at a pound in Sydney at the eleventh hour. How could anyone haved ditch their pet of 8 to 10 years at the pound? We couldn't have imagined doing that to a new pet let alone one that has been with us for almost a decade. We often wonder about humanity...

Rusty knows she has found her forever home. Recently, DL has updated his own views of the world's most beautiful dogs - "Fluffball and Rusty". It used to be just the Fluffball and privately, he didn't rate Rusty well due to her "Dr Evil" stares. He would compare her eyes to that of Fluffball and how no one could replace the Fluffball in his heart (to an extent, it is still true). Now that Rusty is in the good books of DL, she gets treated to his inventory of Wagyu beef he stocks up regularly in return for having to be subjected to my healthy meals sprinkled with "horrible" tasting Chinese medicine and homeopathy concoctions.

******

In other news, as some of you might have been aware of, I have stopped shopping for clothes for awhile due to my ethical and environmentally conscious view of shopping for fashion forward fashion.

But as someone who appreciates fine style and quality fabric, I cannot resist a good sale.

So two weekends ago, I was shopping for work boots. Yes, you heard me. Work boots of the redback variety since I work as a blue collared tradesperson these days in our business.

I walked past the Alannah Hill shop and lo and behold, they have a further 50% sale on marked down prices. I excused myself from DL and asked for him to hand over his bankcard as a back up in case my credit card with only a $1000 monthly limit is exceeded as it is a card used to pay for bills. We have recently paid off all our credit card debts from our failed business and I have cut up all the old cards.

Two hours on, I was still in the shop. I tried on 19 pieces of garments and with my point of elimination, narrowed must have outfits to 8 pieces, mostly girly frocks, typical of my signature look. One gotta love an Alannah Hill frock! I was glad I had DL's bankcard on me. I bombed a week's worth of mortgage on frocks.

I hadn't quite spent money quite frivously like this since my headhunting post bonus days. My adrenalin was pumping, I was experiencing a high from such serendipity but one other part of that financially pragmatic me conditioned from my poor days in recent times left me with rapid heart palpitations.

Prior to this chance sighting of the Alannah Hill sale, DL and I had gone to the picture framer to sort out our framing situation of 4 antique botanical illustration prints given to me by the older sibling. I have procrastinated the framing to close to a year due to the prohibitive costs of framing. My last financial damage in February, which was nonetheless highly satisfying was A$500 where my US$30 Cuban painting bought eight years ago finally found its perfect frame. But now it was bothering me since our long overdue house warming party was imminent and I had to get our house ready. The decor has to match so we spent a good hour choosing frames and discussing frames, settings, measurements, border colour shades and glass options with the professional frame-maker. We were advised the "true view" glass pane was the best but dearest option to preserve our antique prints. Upon comparing the various glass pane options, DL decided the "true view" indeed looked the most aesthetically pleasing and we should just get the best. I had to agree with him. But are you sure? I asked him again since he was the one paying for it and I have grown somewhat financially prudent. Yes, just go for it, he said. He doesn't like to be indecisive or bothered over one off matters like this. Besides, deep down, I know it will bother or haunt me more for years to come if I had picked a more inferior glass pane when I stare at those pictures and dwell on its imperfections. So I was glad with DL's affirmation. We paid another week and a half worth of mortgage on four small picture frames. Nowadays, I look at those pictures and feel this warm, fuzzy feeling and marvel at the precised worksmanship of the framer and how he had successfully brought the pictures' best. He has the best eye for the minutest detail. I have come to appreciate the work of a picture as it takes a perfectionist with a strong sense of mathematical precision balanced with a neck for aesthetics to bring the best out of a picture. I gues it's like the indispensable visual merchandiser or fashion stylist to bring out the best of a fashion designer's creation or art. Or even a great pattern-maker to a fashion designer.

Well, the story of my excessive weekend shopping spree didn't stop here. After all, that was only Saturday. I spent that night strutting my stuff before DL on the new outfits he has (involuntarily) "bought" me. DL liked them and said those outfits were worth very cent and besides, I hardly buy clothes. I took the opportunity to mention I didn't finish shopping since I didn't have my phone on me that day, there was a long queue in the fitting room and I knew he was going to get irritated thinking I have wandered off somewhere else if he couldn't find me, not anticipating I would be in one shop within for so long. I have always been a decisive shopper and I never shop incessantly in one store. The sale was to last till that very next day.

DL, being that generous person that he has always been with me, popped the question that we should head off to the Alannah Hill shop at the earliest the next day or else I was going to miss out on finding the right sizes for my outfits. I was delighted with his generosity and promised that I would limit my spending.

Of course, I didn't. As they say, the early bird catches the best worms. Being one of the earliest birds, I noticed in my bid to jostle amongst the crowd the previous day, I did not cover as much ground as I thought I did- horrors of horrors! In one fell sweep, I started piling my arms with frocks and more frocks like they were free for grabs- another middled aged Asian lady decked in designer wear was doing the same and I overheard the sales assistant mention something about this lady's shopping spree from the previous day. So we were of the kindred spirit and for the first hour, the both of us ruled the shop.

19 is my magic number. Again, I had taken 19 outfits. This time round the strike rate was higher. After hmm-ing and ha-ing, I could not eliminate anymore outfits and was down to 11. More than 50% strike rate. I had decided that I needed to ring my banker (I remembered my phone this time) a.k.a DL to come and check me out, hopefully dissuade me with some pieces since he does have a critical eye like I do and then pay up. He found no fault in the outfits, was pleased and asked if I would like the check out the matching handbags.

The salegirl saw me step out of the changing room and tried to sweet talk me into buying those outfit and kept complementing how lovely I looked in those frocks. I got to ask the banker, I told her jokingly and pointed at DL. Oh please say yes, she said to him sweetly. I always say yes, DL replied in his usual quiet way. Therein lies the problem, I said to the salesgirl.

Naturally, the salesgirl was pleased and cheerfully chirped in on how envious she was and wonder if I could also find her a generous husband who would buy anything she want.

She is right. Indeed I feel I am a lucky girl. I would hate to be with a man who is tight with money. Which girl wouldn't right? But it is the generosity from his heart and always putting me before his own needs that has always touched me. The perceived generosity of a financially wealthy man is nothing but that from a not so financially well off man is usually a sign of sincerity.

As DL joined the long queue to pay up for my new wear, I chanced upon a nice pair of heels and gestured wildly in his direction if I was allowed to throw that in the mix, he nodded but I could tell his attention span was getting a little short at this stage and he would like me to conclude my shopping fairly soon to get the hell out and have some lunch (as he is a very cranky man once he feels the discomfort of hunger pangs) so he still has half a day ahead to himself for other actitivities such as taking the dog to the dog park, reading car magazines and then playing his xbox 360 before yet another new work week begins.

So yes, I got his cue, threw that last pair of heels into the mix and concluded my shopping spree. Another week's worth of mortgage on clothes. I think that would do me for the next six to twelve months.

Feels like my highlight for 2011 and oh, our impending trip to Vanuatu in less than two weeks.

Life, at the moment feels good.

2011-11-15T12:57:00.001+11:00

Can't Wait

I have tendered my resignation on Friday after making two deals in one day. I placed a husband and wife- the first in the company's history.

My last day is next Thursday and I cannot wait.

We will be spending our Christmas in Vanuatu.

Long time coming and for a while, I thought we won't be able to make it there.

What can I say?

I can't wait.

Good things are coming our way.

2011-09-26T17:43:00.003+10:00

Bash...

I am in the midst of preparing for a surprise 36th birthday bash for DL in November.

It will be a catered function in an award winning French bistro and fine dining restaurant he mentioned he would like to go try out.

Since we haven't got deep pockets to shout the entire group of friends in the restaurant, I have done a catered thing instead in their courtyard where my guests will get served French inspired cuisine canapes and some alcohol and drinks to go around. It should be nice weather by then and the day will be much lighter by then.

The invitations have been sent out and most of his friends have RSVPed.

It is the first time I have planned anything of a surprise for DL in all our years together so it will be awesome to pull it all together and see his expression on the day itself.

I can't wait.

I thought I might as well do something a little bit more adventurous to spice up our rather stagnated relationship.

After all, he might well be the partner in crime for the rest of my life!:)

2011-09-26T17:36:00.003+10:00

Memories, memories...

They always take me to a special place and I feel the rush of excitement in my heart and a smile always appears on my face...

I have long suspect my fear of marriage and childbirth have something to with my fear of growing old.

Not in age but in heart and spirit.

I love being one adventure after another.

Who will be my next partner in crime as the numbers dwindle and having more friends settled down?

2011-09-23T00:22:00.003+10:00

Blast from the Past...

I must really thank Facebook. Today has been a somewhat lovely day despite a few serious issues and legally precarious situation I am in at work.

I found my old friend AM. Even better news is that AM and DS are now friends. The last I have spoken to DS 3 years ago, the two were not talking.

Anyway, AM has recently got married and lots have happened in his life. Like me, he had lived many times over with the ups and downs in his business ventures and personal lives.

It was nice to catch up. I haven't seen him since that faithful night sometime in 2000 when he came to my house drunk late one night to confess that he was in love with me all this time.

So we started talking and he mentioned he remembered that night and he wasn't drunk. He asked me the same question again as he did that same faithful night- did I remember what I promise him before I left for Australia?

We quickly warmed up chatting like the way we did. He said he remembered the first day we met. That was some 15 years ago and I must say I too remember what I wore and that night.

AM has recently got married and he asked me when it would be my turn and if DL was good to me. Funny he said I am not an easy person to handle and DL must have been a patient man. It's strange coming from an old friend who used to like me. The thing about me being difficult sounded all too familiar. I have heard that from DL, the Old Boy and perhaps some other guy that I had a thing going with. But coming from someone from the past, it starts to make me wonder if there is something fundamentally flawed in my personality.

AM went on to write and wonder aloud if he could still remember my voice. He said I had a unique voice that can be quite irritating when I whined. I was highly amused with his candidness and served him a tongue-in-cheek comeback- "that's why the boys love and hate me!:p" He replied hahahahha... I can be super dramatic queen, like I meant to be a caricature of myself. B used to get the goose bumps when she heard me whine on the phone to DL so I knew what AM meant he said it was "irritating". I didn't know he could remember so much about me.

AM said he wished I never went to Australia and said I changed after that. Which part, I asked? I am still childish and whiney at age 32. He said I just changed.

Have I, really?

But in his mind, P is always that really sweet girl.

He thought I would have bee a tai-tai by now. Obviously not, still struggling and the usual, I laughed.

He said I left an impact in his life when we got to know each other.

How, I asked? He didn't answer.

Tonight, having re-connected with AM gave me a sense of hope.

I don't know what it meant but it took me down to a happy place in my life. Perhaps that innocent, young-at-heart place I once was. That place where I was once in my element or at my prime.

AM remembered me as a super energiser. I don't see that in me now.

It seems like once upon a time, I had that magic touch with friends and people.

For the past few years, I haven't feel so, especially of late. Work puts me down and I often find salaried employment having a draining effect of me. It doesn't help that trouble is brewing at work for me due to an error of judgement I made a while ago that can snowball to something quite consequential. I hold my breath each day I get into work.

The other day, the psychologist who works a few rooms away from me bummed into each other at the kitchen. She invited me to her office to have a friendly chat. I confided in her about my job and funnily, she suggested I should quit it as she felt it wasn't for me. "Your energy comes across as someone bubbly and personable. DOn't let work get you down and make you doubt yourself. I have seen a lot of people coming through to see me with a similar situation with work..."

It was a nice conversation and she gave me some good pragmatic advice to think things through...

I am trying to go along with the signs...

Let's see where all this takes me since it must not be so coincidental that AM and I got in touch again.

It was like some Divine Intervention needed me to continue believing in myself and go back to that happy place...

2011-09-19T13:18:00.004+10:00

Spring...

Growing up in humid Singapore, I have been brought up to avoid the sun like a plague.

It's sunny at the moment on a Spring day in Sad Town. I am on a lunch break sitting out in the sun. It's strange. It's the first time I notice so many people out at about sitting on park benches or on the grass admiring what the Caucasians would deem a lovely day ( and my mum deem an awful day best to stay indoors and keep out the heat to stay fair).

So like the rest, I sit out here to admire the day and take a little respite from the mundaneness of a salaried life and contemplate about next steps as my deadline for myself to resign from work draws closer. With the advancement of modern technology, I am out here plugged into my iPhone with music whilst I typed away. Ah the wonders of modern technology.

Funny I never saw this coming in me if I had continued to live in Singapore.

It's time to put up our pool in our backyard and get ready for a hot summer.

I am feeling a little more upbeat today.

2011-09-13T21:33:00.009+10:00

Last Weekend

So how was your weekend?

Mine was somewhat interesting.

Talk about blast from the past- it felt like there was some cross interference of telephone lines which led me to feel there is so strange divine intervention at play, except Somewhat Up There must have got it a little mixed up...

On the weekend, DL, Rusty and I made a trip to Sydney. DL had booked into a savoury pie baking class held in a pastry school.

On our drive to Sydney, I decided to send Dope a text to see if we could catch up for coffee since I would have about four hours to kill.

I haven't seen Dope in two years and being the star crossed lovers (and now friends for that matter) that we once were, we always miss each other by the mere second due to mis-matched travelling schedules or simply bad timing. I didn't travel as much and when he does ever rarely return to Sad Town, for some strange reason, I would be out of town.

So I figured I might try my luck and see if we could catch up to see how things are travelling for him. Knowing that he will probably be paying his sleep debt on the weekend whilst he is back in Sydney and not jet setting to be closing the next mining deal, I thought my chances were slim but still worth the go.

Strange things do happen in my life and I have since learnt to follow the signs.

Here we were, DL, Rusty on leash and myself at 1pm, standing outside the pastry school with other eager students, the door to the baking school remained locked. Having nothing better to do and not much in the way of cafes, shops and real estate signs showing open house in this quiet part of the Eastern suburbs, my faithful dog and I waited to see DL into class before we figure out where we could both go next.

The class looked like it was running late and one lady took the initiative to ring the big telephone sign that hung outside the baking school.

To cut the long story short, the baking instructor has got into a car accident an hour before and as such, the class was cancelled. What are the odds, really? To think we travelled inter-state for this on a precious weekend and cancelled one of our business appointments only to have come in vain.

The strange thing though was that I did not "feel" as we were travelling to Sydney that the baking class was going to eventuate and that I was going to savour a pie made by DL. Somehow I felt we were both going to have heaps of spare time to kill in Sydney. It was like I knew I was not going to be left alone with nothing to do in this quiet part of the city.

So I was glad that Dope did not respond to my text.

With the rest of the afternoon free, DL and I took Rusty to a nearby park to roam freely whilst we read the newspapers sitting on the grass, with the nearby church bells tolling away relentlessly on a sunny but windy Spring afternoon. Then we decided to drive back into the city for a Thai massage. For some strange reason, we made a wrong turn whilst being in the city and ended up crossing the Sydney Harbour Bridge paying toll and what not in the direction of the fancy Lower North Shore where my older sibling lives. Ironically, this weekend would have been the ONLY weekend that we would not have to cross the Harbour Bridge given that my older sibling had left the country that morning for overseas on a medical mission.

We were getting a little frustrated and as usual, DL cursed and reiterated the reason why he hated living and driving in Sydney since every wrong turn can result in a costly toll fee. With such short notice, the Thai massage salons in the Lower North Shore vicinity were unable to accomodate us, we headed back into the city centre.

Just as we arrived, I heard the beeping of my phone. Thinking it was the Dope responding to my text, I took out my phone and was ready to respond something along the lines of "Looks like we'll have to catch up another time. DL's class was cancelled."

I was greeted by the text.

"Hey P, how's it going? How's your new work? When are you next back in Sydney?"

It was sent by the Man.

I told him I happen to be in Sydney, how strange. I asked him how his family were and where he was living now.

He replied to say his family is good and has gone back to India for a few months and he said he lived in the suburb in the lower North shore where DL and I had just came from.

How coincidental.

Strange thing is that this hasn't been the first time the Man would text me with such accurate timing.

In the most recent instances, I would be in Sydney when it happens. The thing is I am not even in Sydney that often.

My past comes back to greet me every so often.

Like I said, I have learnt to follow the signs. Somehow I get the sense that some strange cosmic or divine intervention was at play. As some say, there is no real coincidences in this world. I don't know what to make of it and have learnt not to read too deeply into it.

But I do notice a strange phenomenon. There are a few instances where I was meant to catch up with the Man and the Dope on separate occasions in Sydney.

Those rare few times where both our timings matched, I fell into such deep sleep that I had missed all the appointments despite the loud persistent phone calls.

For an insomniac like me who gets awaken from the slightest noise or light, that would be quite the feat. It was like I had fallen into a coma for some incredible reason.

The other ironic thing is leading up to the meeting, there is usually some form of anticipation or excitement building up for both parties, both of the platonic or scintillating (just the mere possibility) kind.

So I have come to terms with the fact that some things are just not meant to be.

There will never be a good enough time.

That just wasn't in the cards.

2011-09-06T20:51:00.007+10:00

At Age 32...

It has dawned on me that I am ready to throw in the towel.

To work, that is.

Each day, I feel the dread going to work, especially since my nasty defeat last week where my boss came into town and grinded all the efforts I have garnered into dust particles. I feel like I have taken two steps forwards but thrown four steps backwards.

I felt beaten to the ground.

It was not the nicest scene to be witnessing the near interrogation session about my performance.

Apparently being in bonus territory is not enough for me to achieve my revenue targets. I have been improving my revenue numbers but still it's not good enough.

With clenched fists(mentally) and teeth (almost visibly) and my anger waiting to boil over any minute (apparent in the deep breath I took), I had a bit of an exchange with my boss, whilst trying not to sound too argumentative. I had to stand my ground.

*****

I actually felt wronged for a big part- 80%, I would say. I felt boiling angry to say the least.

Somehow it reminded me of my days as a headhunter where I was such a bloody yes man. I was stressed, unhappy and tired. Most importantly, I felt underappreciated.

I was determined not to be put down unjustly this time.

This time round, I am not going to take anything lying down.

It didn't help that I became aware that my boss had logged onto my server and email remotely and reading my email in my inbox of which I haven't opened.

The great news is your truly rarely writes personal emails at work, with only 2 persons with access to it- Gof and the Dopey Dope. My communication with these two guys are limited to literally one or two-liners, happening on an ad hoc basis, just to either arrange for lunch together with the former and to check that the latter is still alive and not buried under work. So really, there isn't anything too scintillating to find.

All this accumulated dissatisfaction only served to stir up my temper. I feel like a walking time bomb waiting to explode.

****

The truth is I hate working for people. I mean it.

Perhaps being my own boss for the past few years have given me a surge of self confidence and assurance. I wasn't going to let anyone push me around.

The stress levels I have experienced as a salaried employee is a good ten times that of being a struggling self-employed person.

I feel rather out of control and trapped.

So here I am back in the drawing board, finding ways to get out of my predicament.

Solutions, solutions.

I have come out with one.

With the arrival of Spring and summer to come, DL and I need to step up our game with his business, which is tracking along fine. As usual, we can always do better.

I now need to set up another business to complement what we currently do. It was something that we used to do, made good money but it was too labour intensive and physically demanding for us both. With our trusted casual employee long gone back to his home country, I need a fit and able bodied man to do the job.

Instead of me doing the physical hard work, I am going to get someone to do the job, split the money with that someone and then collect the earnings by doing nothing, except the initial marketing and client liason. Still, I should make more than I do slogging away at work.

This way, DL and I can use more of our brains than our limbs and grow our business exponentially. The freaking business we lost good money to did taught us a good thing or two. I will not allow myself to have spent $400k in vain.

I have been spending all weekend thinking of a solution to get out of my employment misery. And there it is. What perfect timing given the time of the year!

I have posted ads to look for potential hires but already have someone in mind. So far, I got 2 CVs. One looks promising but I am not 100% sure.

Tomorrow I will be meeting someone I have in mind. We'll see how it goes.

If I can strike up an arrangement, I would really love to quit my job by the end of this month. Heck waiting for the bonus to get into my bank account. After all, my clients can be such bad payers and I don't get paid until they freaking pay up. I haven't the time to wait for a pittance of my quarterly bonus which I can easily make in my own business within a day or two. But still, I have grown prudent with age and will need to play by ear and access the situation as I go along. Well, at least I would give myself another 2 months or so with the job.

At age 32, I figure life is too short to be stressed over nothing. Really, I don't need any old job to survive. I can survive alright by creating my own job, thank you very much.

DL and I have been down in dumps before, so how much deeper can a shithole get, really?

Just the other day, we realised we have been in business for nearly 2 years now.

I haven't regretted it one bit despite more downs than ups.

Maybe it's a sign that I am finally growing up and feeling a little more sensible?

I stop having the drive I used to have or the competitive edge so to speak.

I now understand why B always wanted a simple life and didn't care for the career advancement. I guess the only thing I can never understand is why she whinges about how she hates each mediocre government job she has downscaled her salary for from the corporate world but continues hopping from one "simple" job to another, feeling unfulfilled and uninspired so many times over. I have lost track of where she works.

I would rather not work in that case. I must say she is someone who has the option to do so since she is married to someone who is established and doing well in his career. Having a child and another on the way is a GREAT excuse or shall I say, valid reason not to work. Morning sickness and work does not go hand in hand. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. I certainly would love to know I don't have to clock into a day job should I so be interested to fall pregnant and have a baby. I do have that old school mentality that a child should never be too far from his or her mother, especially between the age of 0 and 5. What good is there for someone to want a family without being able to spend time with the family he or she creates?

I mean life is too short. Too short to fade into nothingness and inertia or rather, unfulfilment of any kind.

Surely there must be something more to life apart from work and survival for a female aged 30 and beyond even if one has the adult responsibility of family duties?

Well, at least my take is that life 30 and beyond for me, a female is more than just that. It's a time to slowly de-stress and unwind and simply play whilst I work. The wisdom and savviness gained from the foolishness of my youth will serve as my strength in reserve. I will learn my lesson well and aim to spend more time playing than physically working and mentally stressing.

Plus the reason why a lady gets married, to put it in a sexist way, is so one can have someone to depend on in hard time, isn't it? I recalled a socialite in Manila once said to me on marriage, "Choose well." Wise words indeed. I am of that believer that if you cannot make anything out of your own capabilities or haven't the fortune to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth, the good news for woman (again sexist but conventional view) is there is that OPTION to choose a suitable life partner to make the rest of your life a lot easier when you come of age from 18 onwards. But the word of caution is "Choose Wisely".

I often wondered if I have grown to feel defeated with life, given my declining competitiveness. But I realise my love for life is still there, except it's for the simpler things in life. I find myself being more competitive within myself and having a more mellow exterior.

Well, perhaps that's where the term "toned down" comes from. Having said that, I guess with the right company, I am still ready to rock and roll, make merry and party. But for the most part, I feel very comfortable in my skin.

So yup,that's my take on how I should live at age 32 and beyond.

Life can only be better with more time for me to do the things I want. After all, I am probably less than two-thirds closer to death. If I don't play now and do the things I aim to do before I die, when I will get round to ticking off my checklist?

I aim for my eulogy to read something like "I have lived larger than life. Cheers to the good life."

2011-09-06T20:41:00.003+10:00

Update

I started my first hand yarn spinning lesson last night.

I sat in between 2 ladies who must be in their late fifties or early sixties.

I had fun.

Now I am muscle training my right feet on the peddle of my spinning wheel as I type this.

If only life can be this simple and blissful everyday...

2011-08-04T16:58:00.002+10:00

Change

I have just rung up to find out more about a role advertised for six Linen/ Laundry workers.

The recruiter has left for the day and back tomorrow.

Hopefully, I will be fit for the job.

2011-08-01T15:59:00.002+10:00

Mt. Kailash...

is where I am thinking of going next.

After all, I have seen the great, almightly Mount Everest.

Mountains have an invigorating and life changing aura about them that leaves one in awe for a long time.

I get the sense this is where I need to go at some stage.

Then there is also Hunza, the Shangri-lah of the world and walking the Silk Road...

At some stage, some day...

2011-08-01T12:08:00.001+10:00

Winding down- a sign of growing older…

Aged 30 in today’s modern world must be the new 40 that heralds the dawn of mid life crisis.

I read somewhere awhile ago that there are more and more early 30s females like myself who wakes up one day and feels an increasing inertia to get up to work and slowly sink into some form of depression as they struggle to find themselves.
Well, I have had a bit of an early start and have suffered this malady since my late twenties, which saw my frail nerves (a combination of my personal life spilled over to my uninspiring stressful work life) being precariously juggled to preserve my sanity. I was that train wreck waiting to happen.

Of late, I have been increasingly unhappy in my life and my base line mood has been down. Work hasn’t been going well of late (last minute failed deals and below average reviews about my work from the boss as a result) and that always have a debilitating effect on my entire life. I was once again reminded of my sad time in the corporate work in Sydney.

On the home front, things are as usual at status quo. I haven’t had sex in what must be eight months. I must admit I don’t miss it either. DL goes about doing his own thing, in a slightly moody way and we often get into heated arguments about our business and our differing outlooks in life. On weekends, we try to get out of the house as much as possible with the dog and anywhere we can wreck our brains to go to whale away the time and forget our woes that are lurking privately in our separate minds. We try to make the best of our weekends and enjoy each other’s company. Our well travelled cat-like dogs also tie in well with our lifestyle of silence.

We haven’t much of a social life and even when there are attempts made by friends to catch up, we would mostly cite busy-ness or some excuses we can think of in order NOT to have spend time with anyone, except for maybe Teddy or Soci (but he is more my friend). As a rule of thumb, I never pick up my phone unless they are people whom I feel like speaking to and inviting over to join us for a meal at our house or out. There are no more than 3 people at any one time in my recluse life in Sad Town that I care to meet and greet. We are a bit recluse and private this way and perhaps we just cherish our ME time a little more. DL has a disdain for chatty people with too many opinions as his idea of winding down is not to have to talk or speak- a nice meal and wine in hand is the way with like minded company who appreciates the sound of silence. One of my friends has pretty much got into his bad books (unbeknownst to her) for being too voluble and coming up with too many smart ass comments. For a while, I too found her to be most energy sapping from that one experience where we took her out in the country with us. I thought I was the most voluble person, she beat me by 100 times. After that day trip in the country, I effectively avoided her for two months to re-charge myself from that experience before I could bring myself to meet up with her again.

DL and I enjoy the quiet company of each other for the most parts, especially when we have long drives into the country or we would go to the farmers markets to buy fresh produce and come home and cook a nice meal and drink wine in our courtyard. Lately, we have a fondness for Alaskan king crabs and have stuffed ourselves silly one weekend with it, together with oysters and wine until we have decided to take a break from such indulgence that was fast becoming too rich. Living in Sad Town and growing somewhat older has a way of mellowing one down. These days, I feel like one of my best friend, B- always quiet, a little anti-social and not feeling great about work and have little career ambition except to do work, make some money to survive and lead a peaceful life.

In our separate ways, DL and I privately suffered our constant low-grade depressed states and wonder when we will ever stop feeling unhappy about our financial situation. Ideally for us to survive comfortably and happily, we should be bringing home a joint income of $200 grand per annum. We are probably at 60% of our on target earnings and in our tired and low baseline mood mental and emotional states, no one is interested or motivated to do more work and try harder. If we could help it, we would like to run away from our grown up duties.

So the last few weeks, I have been trying to find ways to get out of my emotionally unhealthy situation with regards to work. Before I can bite the bullet, I needed to know my options. I trawled through the job sites and find most jobs uninspiring. I no longer have any interest in sales or performance driven work (very unlike the once dynamic P), weekend work in retail is a no for me since I treasure my work-life balance and an admin job seems impossible for me given that I have never been technically savvy and my Microsoft Office skills will be in the below average range. Seriously, I had lived my life like a charlatan and I marvel at how long I have survived without any real skills and once upon a time, I actually made good money out of knowing nothing. The only job that seemed somewhat do-able was that of a customer service representative for an international bank- a part time 32 hr/ week job that suits me fine. I should expect to get paid half of what I currently make but that might still work and pay for the entire month’s mortgage.

I am beginning to understand why some Singaporean girls aspire to marry a rich man and not do anything but shop and have high tea with their lady friends. At age 32, I feel my life is over before it has begun. I feel tired by an uninspiring life and wish I could sit at home all day (I don’t need the high tea and idle chitter chatter, thank you very much) with my dog to write, sketch and drape and not worry about the rest of the world and bills, bills, bills. My friend, Janine whom I used to go to university with is currently a housewife with 2 kids. She was a smart futures dealer who didn’t enjoy her working life, married a decent chap who brings in ok money as a legal counsel, and now that she has 2 kids and little family help, she has that fine excuse of staying home. I have no interest in having children so I wonder what is my excuse to sit on my fat ass these days?

In the business that we own, DL is privy to a lot of personal information of the clients we have. Recently, DL chanced upon the income tax assessment for one particular such client who makes $27m a year. Just in a year. It’s the equivalent of striking one big lottery once in a lifetime. We would be happy having just that and then stop working and focus on doing the things we like- writing and designing for me and cooking and driving for DL. Imagine that for these clients- $27m a year for the rest of your life- where would that take you?

Realistically, I would be happy if I have $2m at the moment. That would put DL and my life right, pay off the debts we have and then growing the rest to keep us somewhat happy. Maybe DL and I might even decide to make love for a change and make one or two babies out of that to enliven our quiet lives!;)

2011-07-20T00:23:00.002+10:00

Late in the night...

where here I am sitting on my couch, my laptop on my lap.

I feel a deep anxiety arising like my days in Sydney.

I don't fancy going to work the next day.

I have been falling sick for quite a bit and judging from me being at work for only 7 months, I have taken sick leave for at least 4 days.

The anxiety is unbearable and I feel trapped again once more.

Trapped,stifled, restless and wanting to break free.

This is how I feel NOW.

I fear the dawn of a new work day.

The anxiety is more delibitating than the time I was trapped in my financial woes from a failing business.

I can't explain why although it is illogical.

At least, I did not experience that feeling-like-a-train-wreck anxiety that I feel at the moment.

Tomorrow is the day that never ends where we are made to work for a good 11 hours with no extra pay of course. Doesn't help that the boss is in town to talk about targets and reviews.

With or without the boss, life as a salaried employee sucks for me. I live for the weekends.

Life shouldn't be all about weekends, shouldn't it? I long for the day where everyday is going to be a GREAT day and I know what a GREAT day looks like for me.

I wake up, walk my dog, jump straight into work of the creative sort in my PJs. I never have to leave my home unless I feel like it. I play music as I work and sometimes I work in solitude with my dog at my feet. I stop to take a break whenever I want or not. I throw myself into what I love- I breathe and live my work. Work becomes play. Play becomes work.

Once upon a time when I was dealing with my failing business, I did a lot of that when I wasn't out doing presentations. And I liked that bit about my life. Yes, I did work round the clock but I still had some control over my mobility. I wore a uniform too in that business so I never had to worry about what to wear to work because I am a lazy dresser. I don't see the need to dress unless I am socialising. I hate all outfits relating to office work. That isn't my true style and I loathe the thought that my wadrobe is filled out with oufits that isn't true to my individualism and choking up my limited storage space.

So there...

Am feeling a little repressed for a while and since I have been a recluse for a long while, I have even lost my writing voice and have accumulated this inertia to write and vent.

I figured I must as well download it here on the blog in one breath in this small window of opportunity which I can so much move my fingers a bit longer to type.

Do drop me a line or two you all, it can be quite lonely here in Sad Town (am down to 2 friends whom I hardly meet)...

2011-07-19T22:59:00.011+10:00

Thoughts & Update

Feeling mentally trapped at the moment... trapped by the banality of life as a salaried worker... I feel stifled.

My only form of enjoyment are design books. I try to escape to the public library during lunch time to request for more and more fashion design books to keep myself going. Whenever I am in Sydney, I head off to Kinokuniya to splurge on more books... there are piles of sustainable/eco/ethical fashion and fibre books everywhere around my tiny house- in the living room, by my bedside...

I live for the day where my vexation will end and my money problems will stop. Damn those credit card bills from our last failed business... and then there was the Fluffball's passing... life has never been quite the same... DL still talks to her on a daily basis and sheds a number of tears in private... her unwashed bed and blankets lying in the house, her smelly jumper hanging on DL's side of the bedhead where he takes great delight in sniffing and searching for her dog scent... We have been counting down the days since she departed. It was 7 weeks or 49 days last Friday and in our culture, the dead is meant to return to bid his/her final farewell before moving on to the next reincarnation or journey. We waited and waited but nothing happen- no sign whatsoever.

Well, a strange phenomen has been observed then again. Rusty has stopped trying to sleep in the Fluffball's bed since her passing which she was previously ever so fond of. BUT since last weekend after the Fluffball's 49th day, she has re-adopted her old habit of going to sleep in the Fluffball's bed; in fact, she is sleeping in her dead sister's bed as I type. So have the Fluffball been at home all this while unbeknownst to DL and me, I wonder? After all, it is said that dogs are very spiritual animals and they do see "things" of the supernatural kind...

****

In other news, I was in Sydney some 2 weekends ago and met up with M for the first time in 5.5 years. It was a surreal feeling- we had breakfast, was civil and caught up with what we have been up to. Perhaps the lack of sex or interest in all things sexual leave me with little desire for this beautiful looking guy whom I was so in love with many moons ago. He asked if I was married, still with the same guy, how my family was and all the pleasantries and curious yet polite questions that an old love would ask. Perhaps because he didn't know what to say initially, he also kept asking me the same question on how exactly I was. I answered him honestly and as I could.

Don't think I will ever get married now, I said with a laugh. Why, he asked. Cos I am too old to do so now, I laughed. I meant it- marriage is for the somewhat newly met and dating in my opinion, something of a bit of a whirlwind. DL and I have passed that stage- there isn't the so called next step to look forward to- we've been there and done that- in Australian common law, we are as good as married so what good is that piece of paper to legalise it really?

Similarly, M has been with the same China girl for the past 3.5 years- so I reckon it must be rather serious, I said. Thoughts about marriage, I asked with a smile. Not really, he said. She had wanted it them to get married in the first 1.5 years of their relationship but now she has grown used to his idea of non-marriage, he said.

He is now based in KL now, having been based in Singapore the whole of last year. But you never came home, he said. So we never met and hung out. I was busy fighting fires with the business, I confessed.

We talked about our old friends in Paris, Random George (who always reminded me of Nano in aloofness and aura- both with the aura of old Spanish wealth) whom I randomly fucked and how they are still in touch since they went to the same school in Chile. He updated me that they caught up again when they both attended Wharton Business school in Pennsylvania last year. Random George's family owns one of the oldest investment banks in their country in Latin America and the licensing for an American investment bank and so RG would be working in the family business back home once he is done with his MBA. Prior, he was working in New York in the affliated American investment bank for a good number of years.

So M and I spent a good 2.5 hours over breakfast and strolling along the Circular Quay with the Sydney Opera House in the backdrop and back to his hotel room at the Intercontinental Hotel where he had to do his last minute packing. Nothing happened and I reckon no one had any thoughts or expectations for things to happen. At the end, DL and the older sibling rang to pick me up and was parking at an awkward spot so I had to run. We hugged hastily to say goodbye, him embracing me more than I did reciprocate (me having morphed into a recluse and uncomfortble with the human touch of an embrace from both male and female.

I was feeling alright and my emotions were even during the meeting. But after the parting, I felt something strange and unsettling for the rest of the weekend.

*****

In other news, more baby news from close friends. I texted B to wish her a happy birthday last week and she announced that she is pregnant with baby number 2. Time flies- I haven't even seen baby number 1 yet.

Then a month or so ago, I was supposed to catch up with The Man whilst I was in Sydney for work. He cancelled last minute on me due to a "family emergency". What emergency I wonder as he has no family here except his wife. I soon learnt that his 10 month old baby fell down and broke her leg. I have yet to tell my tale about his visit to Sad Town last year in June- like he meant to have some form of closure with me. Counting back as to when the baby was born, it seemed like his visit to Sad Town was a deliberate attempt as he left his heavily pregnant wife at home in Sydney. He came to Sad Town with a purpose and strangely enough to pop a questio to me. I thought only females want answers. After all, this was the dude that was about to get married in 3 weeks when we did the dirty. Surely, he would have moved on faster than I did....

On 11th June, Nano got married. To an ex-girlfriend from his youth. Obviously, I wasn't invited. It was a massive wedding at a well known country club in Manila. He told me there were over 600 guests and they didn't get to sit down at all during the night. I remember feeling strange that Saturday morning I woke up knowing that he was getting married and that in the Philippines, there is no such thing in its law as a divorce. The only other eligible guy that I would realistically consider having a go with for obvious and not so obvious reasons. Taken. To be honest, I felt somewhat sad and I didn't even know why I should be feeling this way. Maybe we should both get married if we didn't end up with anyone, he once said. But then again, how could someone like Nano NOT ever get married right? Someone of his social statute. I recalled that day where he learnt that I was back with DL in late 2008. He was surprised (just as the Old Boy was) and asked if I was happy and I said yes. Then he said he was happy for me then, really. I noted his disappointment but I remembered most about his graciousness as he always is as a person- a true pedigree for someone of his class. So I put ME aside on his special day and sent him a text to wish him the very best in the new chapter of his life and domestic bliss to his new wife. Within 30 minutes, he replied with a "Thanks. Just got out of mass:)" So it was sealed, lock, stock and barrel.

Other news, I learnt on Facebook that Big M had baby no.2 in Dec last year. In a span of 1.5 years, two baby girls he had. No wonder a few weeks ago when he wrote me a 2-liner out of the blue and I asked if baby no. 2 is coming along anytime soon (bearing in mind he turns a big 4"O" this year and his wife is only a year younger with a biological clock ticking), I got no reply thereafter.

More news from the omnipotent Facebook! Dr. Jekyll and Hyde finally tied the knot with his girlfriend whom I met at my buddy, Harry's solemnisation party 2 years ago. The girl who sat opposite me and was friendly with me. Little did she know about my history with her current husband...

Ah well, c'est la vie.

What can I say? Time flies.

Can't believe I am in my 30s and still, my mental restlessness continues to torment me...

I can't find face another day at work tomorrow- the banality of a salaried employee is killing me.

2011-06-26T22:38:00.003+10:00

Love...

Some of you must be wondering what I have been up to lately. I have been all quiet on my blog.

Whilst the world continue to evolve, changes follow. My friends have continued to "grow up" and I hear yet another arrival of a bundle of joy. The most significant and recent was V's cute and chubby little baby boy that was finally born about a month ago after a few days' of delay. A new addition, another new life chapter...

So here we are, many of us in our early thirties, having moved on from our wild twenties of social and sexual experimentation to a more settled life. Some have "come of age" becoming cluckyer, embracing motherhood more readily than others Unlike myself.

Motherhood must be an amazing journey I figured. I see friends setting up blogs devoted to sharing about their pregnancies, newborn babies, children and family lives. It's that natural instinct to love and celebrate this special experience and maternal bond and share it with others. Long lost friends who are mothers start keeping in touch and exchanging baby tips with one another, a new camaraderie formed.

So here I am down under hearing about all this baby news back home vicariously through the Facebook and internet. I feel happy for friends but I don't feel quite as connected. But I think I did understand why pregnancy and motherhood are such a big deal- because mothers make it a big deal and they do simply because it is an instinctive thing to do when they are in love and excited about the arrival of the life they have created.

I have never like children too much but I have always been a maternal character in my own way through my need to provide and protect. It is apparent in the way I love my dogs- the need to give them the best. So each day, I couldn't stop talking about my dogs to my only colleague who has to listen to my repeated "top 5 stories"( as she would put it) about how beautiful and pretty my dogs were and how much i miss and love them. And when I got home, I would greet them with cuddles and kisses and wonder how anyone could have abandoned my two lovely girls at the pound, only to be found by DL and I. Finders keepers and how lucky can we get. I am ever so thankful and I often tell her how much we love her and asked the Fluffball what was mum and dad going to do when she was gone.

So the day did come 4 weeks ago. We had to make the hard decision to let her go. Two weeks prior,we had admitted her to the emergency after she had lost a fair bit of weight and no amount of dental and personal grooming could get rid of this strange and foul breath unlike her usual. When she vomitted the water that she had just drank and I detected foam whilst we were at the cafe with Ted on a leisurely Sunday afternoon, I knew that the vet visit couldn't wait till Monday.

We were glad we didn't. The vet said it was renal failure at the late stage. We were to leave the hospital without her that night as she would be put on fluids, having lost 30% of her weight and being severely dehydrated. The vet advised that she could not have waited another day. If the blood results was not too great and fluids were not going to work, we would have to prepare ourselves for the worst.

The bombshell was dropped. DL and I stood in the room shocked. My tears couldn't stop streaming down my face. DL suppressed any emotion and pain on his end to prevent me from spiraling into hysteria. I felt that stab or multiple stabs of pain in my heart. We went home without our dog that night.

They say a mother's love for her child is the greatest love of all. So there I was, helpless for that moment, I wished the fluffball could take my kidney so that she could become well again. If only she could. I cried for an entire night but being the ever protective mother of my brood, I didn't want to take the vet's no cure verdict as the gospel. I couldn't give the Fluffball a death sentence if I hadn't tried. I wasn't about to give up on my child. So I embarked on a journey of herbal and alternative therapies and treatments. I ordered a system of herbal treatments from the united states which DL and I syringe administer four times religiously into her mouth each day. On top of that, we spent the remaining time cooking and freezing organic meals for our dogs and massaging therapeutic essential oils to both the Fluffball and Rusty as we weren't taking any chances. We sacrificed sleep as new parents would do during feeding time just so we were feeding her the correct amounts of medication to put her back on track. I was all ready to go to sydney's renown Chinese medicinal hall to buy the rarest and one of Chinese medicine's most precious herb, Cordyceps at $1300 for 28g to cure her kidneys.

Things did looked up for a while and Fluffball was regaining her appetite. I took time out of work to provide the palliative care and DL and I remained vigilant in her journey to recovery. Being the paranoid person that I was, Rusty got her bloods tested and lumps removed and sent to pathology. I have always prided myself on the quality if care we have provided to the Fluffball with quality pet food, adequate exercise and lots of love and still, we had failed to detect her sickness. I blamed myself.

I started speaking to different people in the dog parks and learnt about a holistic vet trained in both conventional vet science and traditional Chinese medicine. I booked her in for that too. I even consulted a real Chinese physician who couldn't speak a word of English and religiously trawled through my English-Chinese dictionary and the Internet to translate the English herbs that I have administer the Fluffball with into Chinese. It was during this period that the Fluffball was suddenly fast deteriorating. The holistic vet detected the reason as to why she was having difficulty eating and drinking for the past couple of days even though she was wanting to. Her tongue was so badly ulcered( have never seen such a bad case) that she advised us that the Fluffball was at the end of the road. She advised that we must be prepared to put her down within 2 days if her situation didn't improve after she gave us some drugs to take home. The Fluffball deserved to die with dignity and we shouldn't prolong her suffering. It was a race against time. I rang the Chinese physician I met a week ago and begged him to see my dog. I was clearly distressed and despite his no experience with dogs and he was in the midst of a house move, the kind gentleman obliged.

He looked at the Fluffball's tongue. The colour, shape and dampness wad not a good sign. Her immune system wad gone, he said. I couldn't stopped crying. He gave me another hope- one last hope he said but it might take a week. Heal her tongue first so she could eat and get her immune system strengthened. He sent me off to get some propolis for her tongue and wished me luck.

That was that Friday four weeks ago. Our emotions went through that rollercoaster ride. One moment, there was hope. Another moment, the prognosis looked grim.

That Friday night, we meant to take the Fluffball to the emergency to inject more fluids but instead, we decided on the spot to bid her farewell. She was down to 2.3 kg from 5kg. We just couldn't do this to her. All afternoon after our vist from the Chinese physician and me religiously administering all the drugs and syringe feeding the Fluffball, it was getting more and more unbearable to watch her try.

Dogs have a strong threshold for pain and they will do everything just to be with their owners. I couldn't stopped crying secretly for fear that she would detect my sadness. I left the door open for to wander out and sit on the front porch like she normally would. I put on some Tibetan Buddhist prayers and prayed for great rebirth for my beloved princess. She has had a life much loved by us and provided us with immense joy so surely the lord Buddha will grant us this wish for her?

DL came home that evening hoping for a miracle that didn't happen. The only miracle though was she came to the dog to greet him, which she hasn't done in a while in her weakened state. She must know this was it before we did. The Fluffball was more of DL's dog than mine. Always such a daddy's girl. As we drove her to the hospital, her on my lap and him driving, she found one last renewed vigour and jumped across to sit on his lap like she always would.

That very night, when we knew it was time to make that painful decision to say goodbye, we took her out for a 10 min walk in the wintry cold. We asked the vet to make the necessary cremation arrangements, no expenses spared and for her ashes in a handcrafted cedarwood box to come back to us and that plaque that says "Till we meet again" because we will meet our little princess again. One day when our time will too be up.

So yes, we went through our emotional rollercoaster since her journey. Some days we couldn't cope with the discomfort and pain the Fluffball suffered as we syringed food and fluids into her mouth. Another days we are heartened by her initiative to polish off all the fresh organic food in her bowl that we spent hours prepping, pureed, blending and cooking. We persisted on despite the massive shift in our lifestyle, remaining vigilant and hopeful that things will turn around. Her 14th birthday party was scheduled for that Sunday, 5th June. We could only take small steps and aim to prolong her longevity by yet another day...

The Fluffball never made it for her birthday which we have promised to throw each year for the past 9 years, mainly because we couldn't afford to before or I was never around. The birthday hats, banner and streamers we bought from our poor student days are still in the garage in their unopened packages. This year we were so sure we would fulfil our promise because up to this incident and since we moved on from our disastrous business and into our new lives, life was almost perfect and too good to be true. And so she left us just exactly one week shy of her birthday.

So there- my Fluffball gave me a gift I didn't know I was capable of giving-love. I now understand why a mother's love is the greatest if all, funnily enough through my dog-child. I am not even a real mother yet and perhaps might never be. So I thank her for making this happen to me. Like the eulogy on obituary pages go "Gone in our lives one so near but in our hearts forever near."

So whilst many of my peers would concur that they have experience this profound love firsthand from the birth of a child, I experienced mine through the loss of one. So here's my story of love.

We love and miss you so much, Prissy. You are the little girl that changed my world.

2011-06-08T17:16:00.002+10:00

Finally...

her ashes were returned to us last night.

We picked the best cedarwood box to contain her cremated ashes and a plaque that read

"Our Beloved P*****
Till we meet again
27th May 2011"

It's good to have the Fluffball home again.

2011-05-04T00:00:00.008+10:00

Staying Connected...

I must admit I feel somewhat out of touch with this world...

Lately, I have began to take an interest in the politics back home given the pending elections on 7th May. For once, I wish I am home to feel the energy of the political campaigns and be at rallies and make my vote count. Such exciting times back home which I never saw coming!

Once upon a time in my late teens, I had some aspirations to read political science at university, be more intellectually engaged in student groups, join a sorority and lead a life of action and passion. All these grand dreams I had about having an overseas education...

Being an artsy person, I figure there were only 2 "respectable" career paths to consider- become a lawyer or work in government and become a diplomat or something.

But truth is I am a dilettante. I love the energy of being in intellectual company but I do not have any strong political inclinations and I lack intellectual rigour to dig deeper or be truly concerned or be made aware of the national issues that plagued our nation or the average citizen on the street.

I have never voted in my life and wonder if I ever would. If I had still lived in Singapore and never left for overseas, I know too well that I would vote anything but the ruling party just for the hell of it and thwart the stats just to be a renegade given that our country has pretty much been ruled with an iron fist.

Given that I have been living in Australia for the past 11 years or so, I too begin to wonder who I would have voted in the last election for Prime Minister. It was a hard question. I think I am more inclined to the policy making of the liberal party than labour party(although I thought I had more left-wing ideologies as a teenager) but I also fancy the notion of a female Prime Minister. Julia Gillard has the gravitas and composure of a true leader and I couldn't say the same for Tony Abbott who had come across as a loose canon who wouldn't fare too well in foreign affairs. It was a hard one and I was glad I didn't have to choose and make my vote count. Sad Town too is a place predominantly a home ground to Labour supporters and I wonder why I often live in the "wrong" place at the wrong time.

I left home and told myself my overseas education was to take me away from home because I felt stifled but Singapore has no place for a renegade like me. My wish did get fulfilled and I have led a relatively cruisy life despite the numerous struggles I had. I mean I managed to escape what I called an ordinary average Singaporean life worrying about getting married to buy a HDB flat, make babies whilst trying to balance my finances on a meagre salary to chase the dream of the 6 Cs.

Long story short, I feel like a prodigal child who has ran away from home chasing a life of adventures and excessiveness. I am not ready to grow up and face those realities and responsibilities.

The facebook site has been very active of late given that many friends back home are too stirred by the upcoming elections and have been posting their two cents' worth on their facebook status actively. I haven't seen so much political interests from people my age group all my life, except V, my best friend whom I always look up to for her intellectually charged brains. This heralds an interesting time.

Because of all this buzz happening, I have also actively clicked on the profiles of old high school classmates to see what they are chattering these days.

This is where I feel out of touch. My friends who are the same age as me and most of them who still look pretty much the same have all grown up, taken on regular jobs (in the variety of teachers, engineers and middle income administrative positions), must have worked for at least a good 10 years assuming they went to the local university and graduated on time, found a man and got married and have made one if not two or three babies. Some of them are still in touch taking joint baby pictures of them and their bubs. I am flabbergasted.

And here I am- have not worked for more than 5 years in total, still feeling like I am 18 and never ready to grow up. Ask me out to party when I am back and I can bet you I will say anything- no sleep and all play will make P a very happy girl! My parents are still there to hold me if I fall. I made good money in my days in the corporate world and probably much more than those friends back home. Yet, I am not left with one single cent. Having lost a stack of cash from bad business decisions in the past year more than an average person would make in 10 years, I am still in one piece. Most importantly, I am still chasing dreams like it's my birth right.

I don't know what to feel to be honest.

It feels a little surreal.

The thought of returning home to find my besties all married with a baby in tow. A contrast to the last time I was back and we hit the town dressed up to the nines- I felt invincible and young. I wouldn't know what to input given that baby talk will be unavoidable and I am not sure about having to help carry delicate crying, screaming infants with pukey milk breaths. I have also absolutely no interest in breast feeding versus bottle feeding variety discussions. I was raised bottle fed and have no sentiments for breast milk although I recognise the benefits.

It's a funny paradox when I think how I miss my friends back home whilst I live my life in Sad Town with minimal social life but not knowing how to cope with the changes when I return.

Just today, I just commented to my colleague on how DL has finished work for the day at 12.30pm- not fair. How lucky she said and I said yeah and he is off to the movies. What show is he watching, she asked. I said I reckon it would be something that I wouldn't want to watch because I get to choose each time. Fair enough, she said. So is he watching with his guy friend? No, I said. Alone. Oh, she was surprised. Remember we don't have friends, I told her. They are mostly fair weathered friends that we have here in Sad Town so we would rather do things alone than socialise. You are both weird, she said. My colleague who has become a rather dear friend and very much a groupie has come to learn of my idiosyncracies and my lack of a social network in my adopted homeland. You are in Australia, stop calling home Singpore she would retort whenever I embark on a whinge about how Australians do things so inefficiently or "stupidly" COMPARED to back home.

I often wonder where home is.I often feel like my life is in transition and a glass wall has been built around my life. The lack of friends and socialising allows me more time to focus on my own needs and hobbies. Most importantly, it allows me to chase my dreams and never stop dreaming since my immediate environment and social surroundings from the lack of socialisation means that my decisions are impacted by what I or rather DL and I perceive and feel. But DL and I have already since spent a good one third of our lives Down Under.

And then these instances that I go through Facebook and looking up old friends and lovers, I come to realise how time has gone by and how people have evolved...

Still, I feel like an 18 girl, never ready to grow up and be a wife and a mother. Always a baby. To put it bluntly, the rebel and feminist snob in me almost feel it's beneath me to lead such an ordinary life going through the rites of passage of the typical human life cycle dictated by the omniscence of time. I am NOT ready to evolve and grow old and fade into ordinariness and nothingness...

So I feel left behind, trying to reconcile and accept those irreversible (the word has a foreboding ring to it and I cringe at the thought)changes that comes with the passage of time whilst trying to hold on to those dreams. Yes, those unfinished business and dreams that needed chasing and fulfilling where the thought of growing old and being defeated by age and death brings on my bout of anxiety once more...

Perhaps it is not such a bad thing to be out of touch than to be in touch with the real world since that could well give rise to self doubt and inadvertently fuck up one's ability to have faith and go all out for one's dreams and hope.

After all, the worst thing that can befall on DilettanteP is to lead an ordinarily unfulfilled life. Oh shivers!

2011-04-28T22:02:00.001+10:00

You...

yes you got me thinking...

Let's get on with it.

2011-04-15T10:23:00.004+10:00

What's New?

You might ask.

Nothing much, except I am sitting at my work desk alone in the office twiddling my thumbs. It's not because there isn't work to be done. There always is and deals that needs origniating. Since I made none this week and didn't send anyone out for interviews, I should get an arse whipping and work at it.

Only that, I do not feel like it. It's Friday and I do not feel like working. I dread my 3.30pm team meeting with my boss in Sydney as I have little great news to deliver. I have not made my month's target.

****

In other news, DL and I adopted a senior citizen dog who was rescued from the pound. Rusty is a mixed breed between the age of 8 and 10 with a heart murmur and lots of warts and lumps on her body. Dogs get that when they get on with age. The Fluffball gets a few removed each year at the vet when she has her dentals done- more for aesthetic reasons than health. My vet was disinclined to remove all the lumps (big and small) that I pointed out to him last year and took out only the significant ones. I hate imperfections and so does DL.

Since Rusty's teeth and gums are pink and healthy and her heart murmur not significant at the moment, I have resorted to using holistic methods to get rid of the lumps intsead of putting her under general anasthesia. That means spending more than a surgery procedure with top therapeutic grade organic essential oils and applying religiously on her affected parts on a daily basis and observing it. I am becoming quite the naturopath.

We got a 3rd opinion from our own vet as to the severity of Rusty's heart murmurs since there have been diverse opinions on her condition by two different vets according to the foster carer. Thankfully, it's been a positive outcome. DL has been particularly concerned about the turned out gait of Rusty's hind legs and the fact that she couldn't jump as high onto the couch and bed like her new older sister. The vet diplomatically explained using the examples of human being's gait but what he was trying to say was that Rusty happens to have bad genes. DL had to stifle his laugh.

Both the Fluffball and Rusty are getting along well. By that I mean, they are not hostile towards each other since they are both aloof and rarely bark and like to keep to themselves. Rusty is finally getting the hang that she should not pee INSIDE the house but outside. That there is a time and place for business to take place. By that, we meant the courtyard and their twice daily walks. Rusty has as smooth a bowel as the Fluffball is constipated, though both are being fed the same premium diet with organic fish oil and organic goji berry juice in their drinking water. Rusty has yet to learn that there is no place for dog poo in our nice courtyard with the synthetic grass and her mum does not feel the fondest picking up dog poo in her own, little nice courtyard. Ah well, hopefully she will learn the drill of the household in time.

Apart from that, nothing too exciting is or has taken place. A new addition means spending extra pet insurance each month (I nearly had a fit when I thought she wasn't eligible for illness insurance when I checked prior to her adoption) and extra grooming expenses. Every Tuesday fortnight, the bathing and grooming of our dogs are outsourced to our trusted pet groomer, Bosco who has keys to our house. But what a joy it is to have yet another rescued dog in our lives! That is the one thing that DL and I agree on and passionate about- DOGS. Well, guess that keeps our relationship alive.

Yes, so that is what's happening in our lives at the moment. Now there are four in the household. I am finally planning a holiday in Vanuatu and I welcome the short getaway with DL hopefully in June. I paid for the accomodation so guess we can't cancel on it now, can we?

Nothing else really except during my conversation with the Older Sibling last night, she said that during her recent trip back home to Singapore, Mum has asked her to convey the message to me that when things are even more financailly stable, DL and I should get married.

Now where did that come from both the Older Sibling and I wonder?

After all, we have always been brought up to be feminists and for the most part, I have decided that marriage has no place for a girl like me who WANTS alot and LIVE life on my own terms. Marriage and freedom just don't seem to go. Like oil and water you know.

What do you reckon?

2011-04-08T14:21:00.003+10:00

Flutter of a Memory

So here I am sitting in my office my legs up my chair nursing a headache and a flutter of a memory passed through...

****

We were eighteen, B and I. It was a Saturday afternoon and we had Japanese dinner at the Ritz Carlton with a man much older than we were. Then we went to the race course and took a punt on the horses in the relatively remote stand for horse owners. I spotted a few "adults" familiar on the Tatler magazine I used to love reading. I was in a black dress and she was in my long blue batik dress.

****

Now she is a mother leading a pleasantville life, living in a HDB flat and feeling disgruntled about her not to exciting government job. The life of a typical middle class Singaporean. The way she always planned for her life to be. Peaceful and quiet.

And here I am stuck in Australia. Childless, still flighty and unmarried. Just like how I thought my life should be minus not being quite larger-than-life at the moment. Tomorrow, DL and I are meeting our 2nd dog. A rescued 10 year old dog from the pound. I am quite excited and perhaps DL too. We got a bed, leash, new outfits and 2 plush artic faux fur throws that matches the home decor for our two lovely princesses to sit on.

The meet and greet is scheduled at our house at noon tomorrow. I need to start tidying up the house to welcome our new arrival and hopefully, we pass the adoption process.

Then in the evening, DL and I will head off to yet another circus performance.

2011-04-04T07:50:00.003+10:00

Boarding...

When one is younger, one has many more choices. There is this young boy of fifteen that I see at my bus stop every morning. Sometimes he boards the express bus , sometimes he chooses to take the bus that goes a longer route, sometimes he simply waits for the next bus that might or might not come...

I,on the other hand know better than to suffer any c onsequences. I simply board the express bus.

2011-03-28T11:23:00.002+11:00

Don't Work...

So here I am on sick leave today, with no access to work email due to some unknown technical reasons.

I get my colleague to check my emails and realise I have one important matter that I need to attend to.

Long story short, a particular candidate of me is bailing my client out on an interview tomorrow. It happens very often to the said candidate who has little skills but an important piece of qualification that stokes the interest in all my clients.

Being a newbie in town and that particular industry having a dearth of such professionals, she thinks she can afford to choose right down to location.

It seems like her young family takes precedence and it made me wonder why the fuck does she even want to get back to work in the first place.

I have "educated" her and kindly suggested that she needed to be more flexible at this stage as she needs to get some real training under her belt. It was even a long shot for me to put her in front of my clients mainly because she had little, if not no experience in the specialised areas that my clients are looking for. Yours truly have been raking her brains at a lightning speed and have resorted to looking overseas and pitching the viability of such a recruitment exercise.

My thoughts are this: I did not approach her. She approached me. Now I play a totally different ballgame from my days as a headhunter to a mere recruiter dealing with people earning ok salaries in the range of $60 to $100k per annum.

So she would bloody make up her darn mind about her life priorities before mucking people around and telling me she needs a break from an interview. What break bitch? You haven't even got your career on track yet so fuck that break or stay home and breastfeed till all the cows come home!

I honestly have no respect for women like this.

This is the reality- sacrifice your career for family or vice versa. She needs to make a choice given the profession she has chosen for herself.

She can be sure she is X-ed out from my books. If I am mean, I could blacklist her further by putting a word out there to prospective employers- after all, the industry is way too small.

Anyways another thing is- who ever put under "Interest" in their CV- "My 1*-month old son, D, of course. Woman, there is no time for cluckiness! I can handle family under interest but please spare us the "of course"! I roll my eyes as I type.

My suggestion to her is-she should take a break from working altogether!

More thoughts on that regarding women with kids and managing a career!

2011-03-28T00:23:00.002+11:00

Teeny Bopper Crush

Dope and I drop one-two liner emails to each other at work.

Now that I am back at work for the first time since 2008.

We write sporadically if we remember each other and managed to take a breather.

Usually, it is pretty mundane things like "Yo how's it going on your end?" or weekend plans and the like.

We lead such separate lives and live in two different cities and literally, we are trying simply to keep in touch.

I told him I just remember I am about to have my birthday.

Yeah I do remember someone's birthday is coming. Doing anything special?

Dun know yet. Can't believe I am turning 32.

Me too. You will always be 18 to me.

That brought me back to the first day I was attracted to him.

I was 20 and I remembered all too well the crush I had for Dope- that good-looking Eurasian boy dancing at the club on stage with his slim and sexy Thai girlfriend.

I thought he was way out of my league and I'll never make it into his good books!;)

2011-03-28T00:11:00.003+11:00

Memory Trespassed

I was seiving through my blog entries to re-visit my writing and recall the different states of minds in various stages of my life.

How ironic that the more emotionally disturbed I was in the past, the easier the words flowed!

Then I chanced upon an entry- http://dilettantep.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html.

Didn't know that after all these years- re-reading it could still bring tears in my eyes.

I consciously shut that all too familiar pain and tug at my heart right before it could get me. Just once upon a time ago, it got me like the surge of tsunami that got the people in Japan.

As we know, it's going to be what will seem like infinity for Japan to sort through the rubble of mass destruction.

2011-03-27T23:42:00.004+11:00

Self-Affirmation One

I must admit it's been a long while since I feel like I can write.

The stories and words are constantly streaming in my head. I hear my own narrating voice bursting to get my tales told on blog. Then it's gone.

I haven't the discipline to have a little notepad in my purse at my disposal to pen down my thoughts.

I get lazy and then mildly dissatisfied with myself. At a much later stage, I would get in front of the laptop and attempt to type. I hear my nagging-needs-to-stop-doing-things-half-fucked voice in my head and my procrastination have become moreunbearable. This time round, I am stuck. I egged myself a little harder and typed a few words. Then I get stuck again. This process repeats itself for a further 15 mins until I abandon the writing altogether. Another to-do thing accumulated to my burdensome mental list.

Lately, I have felt a renewed energy in focusing and working on my writing.

You see, I am sick of not accomplishing something in what I deemed as one of my two passions- writing. (Another one being fashion design- now that might take a little longer but I have started to reshuffle my priorities to get there- cut out the proposed spending of imported handpainted silk wallpaper for the bedroom, curb any compulsion to buy yet another piece of artwork for my tiny abode and do without an antque chinoiserie cabinet.)

I recently went to a free writing seminar with Soci, which I chanced upon on the local paper. I took it as a sign and reminder that I needed to do something about my writing. It has been at the back of my mind disturbing me and begging for more attention for some time.

Frankly, I would love to just roll out of bed and start my day working in my PJs. I hate dressing up for work, catch public transport, manage the boss and hand hold my clients and candidates.

I have enough hobbies and ideas to keep myself occupied in a day without playing the mediator to sort out other people's issues and life.

Enough time wasted.

This is THE time and year that things MUST be done by me and for me.

2011-03-26T19:51:00.003+11:00

Right now...

I should be in a fine dining restaurant dining with DL, having an early celebration of my 32nd birthday.

As you can tell, I am not.

I am sitting right in front of my laptop.

On the other hand, DL is sleeping in his one month old VW Golf in our brand new garage.

"I can't do this anymore," I told him this afternoon.

I have had enough of his temper that seems to get stoked to life at the most innocent comment I make nowadays.

And the string of expletives that come and then the further provocation.

I DON'T like the negative energy.

We cannot seem to have a half decent conversation regarding everyday housekeeping affairs it seems.

He has become a very unappealing character that I have to half put up with in my life to the point that the sweetest things he has done and will do for me no longer mitigate the resentment I feel for him everytime such spontaneous domestic occurrence arise.

Lately, it has become rather spontaneous. At the same time, I haven't the patience to back off and quell the situation.

We get into shouting matches.

I hate to take the humble pie but I normally do with him. Only for survival but in exchange, my resentment continues to grow and my libido has dropped to zilch.

I swear if he dares to come any closer to me with his deadly stare and aggression the next time round- he will be given two options.

Before he could even think about executing his actions, he can jolly well get the fuck out of MY house. I am glad I have sole ownership of my property.

If not, I will just give him a knife and not dare but ask him to just stab me right there and then instead.

Either way, he will lose me.

Ah well, he has already lost me anyway.

2011-03-02T07:55:00.001+11:00

it's march and my horooscope says that it is the best time to break habits. There is one bad habit that has stuck with me for the past three years. I would like to be rid of it, except I don't know how. What if I tell you it's more mental than anything else? How do I break away from that ghost of a memory? I feel my heart stir once more on one of these 8am bus rides to work. this all too familiar tug-at-my-heart blues from the past is slowly creeping up on me once more...

2011-01-26T00:01:00.006+11:00

Been Thinking...

about the notion of growing up...

So my memory of my childhood spanned back to when I was three... I have one vague memory of myself at Yamaha Kindergarten where the older sibling was studying Kindergarten One and I was there with Mum to pick her up. I was not old enough to attend school.

By four years old, I started my first crush on an unknown boy on my school bus. He was a year older than me and had a bald head (Funny Daisy likes to tease me about my "fetish" with bald headed guys-DL is bald too).

Then I recall primary school and my pre-Monday blues. I developed boy blues since I was 10- I liked this really smart boy in class for two years whom coincidentally was a buddy of Mr. London (another boy I had a crush for 8 years since 17 and subtly shaped my mentality and my self esteem in my young aduult years) in the army.

Then there is DL whom I met when I was 21- I literally had to struggle to grow up and attend to adult, financial responsibilities.

Just had a look through Facebook and spotted Random George on my Friends list. Random George was some guy whom I had a most random one night stand with in Paris when I was high as a kite from a combination of alcohol and weed. He went to school with M in Santiago. Random George and Nano have the same air of aloofness and they both look quite alike- I mean, really alike though I must admit I am partial to Nano. Both hail from old mega wealth traditional backgrounds from the old Colonial Spanish world, one in Chile and the other from Philippines. One's family made their fortunes from investment banking and the other from property development. They both had the same addictive personalities to vices of alcohol and drugs (marijuana for George and nicotine for Nano)and appear quietly uptight with a typical first child and son syndrome, both who are well aware of their responsibilites to come in their adult years as heirs to mega multi-million business empire. They both also displayed avidness in reading of classic literature but as expected, kept abreast of the latest financial news. Random George had even subscribed to the Financial Times whilst living in his rented apartment in Le Marais as an exchange student in Paris.

I notice I have a tendency to attract or be attracted to guys who are the oldest son of sons. Even the Old Boy is the older son of 2 boys who also came from the old wealth variety and could have been handled the silver platter to continue his father's legacy in construction. Alas, he lacked ambition and drive. I gathered it was a result of too much hand holding and love from a good natured mum.

Maybe it's the typical recklessness as a middle child that made me particularly attractive to the typically uptight first child.

But I reckon I get along best with boys who are the youngest in their family. They tend to be less uptight and display a keen-ness to "take care" of the opposite sex and being a middle kid who is used to be both an older and younger sibling, I love having the best of both worlds.

Then there are girlfriends- the most important people enlisted in my circle of trust. Some girlfriends come and go and some stay on and you know you have them as friends for life. Being a girly girl, I treasure my one on one time with my girlfriends be it stayovers, drinks, shopping and merry making. When that happen, the boys can wait. I cherish the girlish pacts we make about being god mums to our future newborns and what not...

So I grew up thinking girlfriends would remember things as lucidly as I do. But then I also learn that I needed to modify that because no matter how close friends could be, they might grow out of some things. Their newly made family may take precedence, they forgot the promises they made in bestowing you with the honour of becoming their children's godmother and that you take that up seriously because you would not treat a thing like this lightly since you would expect your own child to have who you think would be the best god mother. You learn to let go and put aside whatever hurt emotions you feel since you refuse to wallow in self-pity or hurt...

Maybe it's a middle kid of same gender order in me. I always felt alone despite the number of acquaintances and friends I surround myself with in my public social life. I do not feel lonely, just alone. I cherish my quiet time with myself and a big part of me love being left alone to do my "own" things, be it eating, shopping or just chilling out. I never run out of ideas to keep myself and time occupied. Honestly, I am not much of a groupie- I love one on one time with close friends.

When I was 22 or so, I bummed into a family friend's newphew, J who used to have a crush on me when I was 13 and was a year older. We started keeping in touch. By then, he had started working and was doing really well and had worked his way up to become his boss' right hand since he is Malaysian and didn't have to waste time serving the army after he graduated from the polytechnic. He told me he was over $100,000 in debt since his portfolio of stocks took a dive in value.

Being 22 or so and still very much a sheltered child, I was shocked to find out that one could amass so much debt at such a young age. At the same time, I was impressed with his financial independence and worldliness. He was the first person I knew who had taken some form of bank loan.

I grew up thinking it was scary to have a debt. Being young and naive at 21, I remember telling DL that when we grow up and decide to buy a house, we must pay in cash. To which, he baulked at the idea and said even his Dad only managed to pay off their family home when he received a lump sum from his retirement. I soon learnt that we only know what we are exposed to whilst growing up.

My family never had debt as far as I knew when I was a child. We bought our land and built our own home in the 80s when the stock market crashed. We bought in cash. I remember our house hunting when I was seven. There began my love for properties. I never tire of them. We begun house hunting all over Singapore to look for that perfect home but my folks must have found none that they were thoroughly satisfied with. Finally, through a recommendation from a friend, they bought a piece of land and built the house, all up $700,000. Our house must have taken 2 years or so to build and I remember going to check it out at various stage of the construction. It was our dream house back then and my friends never failed to be impressed with the way our bedroom was designed. Today, the land itself must be worth $5m or so.

So because of what I grow up with, I reckon all debt was bad. But I also didn't feel the danger as much for becoming self-employed despite ironically, my parents' desire for me to find decent employment in public service and the like. I remember feeling privately bad in primary school for classmates whose fathers had to work for someone else (although ironically, some of their parents in executive profession might well have done better financially than mine), as well as the mothers who didn't have the luxury to stay at home and had to work for a living. Back in the days, most of our mothers were housewives and I do not remember any of my friends with mothers who were working in executive professions. I associated salaried employment to a lack of life and financial choices, as well as personal freedom. And on the other hand my housewife mother who didnt have a choice due to lack of education but who had the savviness to pick herself a dependable husband had private ambitions for her daughters, we were brought up to think that with education, we had choices and we could choose to be single and happy. We didn't need to build home and heath.

So I grow up ambitious wanting to live up to this ideal notion of being that upwardly mobile young professional with a swinging bachelorette life. I thought I could be young forever and ever and make merry as long as I have my close girlfriends to conquer the world with. Marriage do not have a place for a modern female like me and it is a means for a damsel to have someone to depend on emotionally and financially. I reckon I was not emotionally needy, nor was I financially (although I was ironically) helpless. After all, my folks love me despite any love-hate arguments with them or how psychologically traumatised I was from my domineering and opinionated mum, I know my parents are always there for me. Most importantly, they love me. That, I am clear on. I already have a family, I don't need to start another one.

Then I realise it was just me. Despite whatever emotion or financial independence my friends have, they have different ideas and values. Ultimately, they just want to have their own family. They want the simple things- someone to love and to be loved and children.

Last night, I was chatting to Della online and she is contemplating marrying this nice churchy guy (as her back up) by June. He was an introduction from her mum. Della is rich and attractive and she just wants to get married to keep her folks happy since she is feeling jaded at the moment from all her past of bad brushes with romance. She told me she no longer believes in love and since he appears a good catch and tick all the boxes and both sides of the parents get along, she figured he could make her happy. "Marriage is just so you have someone to cover your back, P", she said. She came from a broken family. So despite all the wealth she is to inherit, she still feels the need to be taken care of. Perhaps someone to fill in that emotional void in her life that money could not buy.

My nostalgic self feel somewhat pensive. Whatever happen to those happy, carefree days? Surely even at age 32, we could still have fun. Is it really necessary to impose a time line for ourselves?

Here I am, almost 32. I can't believe time flies. Just yesterday, V and I were dancing in the Pump Room on X'mas eve heading into the new year, our 29th year on earth. On Xmas eve, she met her current husband- baby is popping in May.

Now I have just expended $400,000 in a short 16 months or so. I didn't know I was capable of spending so much money and failing so badly in business. Read somewhere that "When a man with money meets a man with experience, the man with money parts with experience and the man with experience parts with the money". How very true.

I will be spending more. We need a car real soon. More legal fees and I just bought a house. Not on cash this time unfortunately. I took out a 30-year bank loan just like most Australians.

Growing older and growing wiser? Definitely.

Grown up? Not really.

With the wisdom, I am beginning to feel like I am finally living.

Things are finally coming together and I am beginning to have fun and focus on "me" and "us" time and lead that charmed life I have always envisioned for myself and whoever my life partner is. In this case, it is DL.

Now thinking back with all the trials and tribulations I went through, having existed for 32 years seems like quite a long time on earth. No wonder people get the big 3 "0" blues...

But not me. No siree, I want to live to be ninety-three...;)

I still have a long way to go and plenty of time to grow up!:)

2011-01-24T23:00:00.002+11:00

Mona Lisa Smile

I can safely say I am more at peace with myself and feeling that domestic bliss of our lives- DL and me.

I have finally come to that place.

Life crisises neither take me in one fell sweep nor take on a domino effect on my emotions.

I must admit I am getting older and much wiser despite my unwillingness to grow up.

But not a day passed without thoughts of you.

In a fleeting moment, often before sleep.

To a place where I was once secretly happy and privately sad.

I stopped dwelling and stopped hurting.

A friend said I should get laid last night.

She probably meant it in jest since I seem uptight next to her.

I should loosen up.

I continue moving forward in my life, sorting out the debris of our past and restoring the order and rekindling the mini romances of our joint lives-DL and mine.

We are getting there.

2011-01-12T09:55:00.002+11:00

Overwhelmed

There is the saying, "it never rains, it pours".

This is exactly how my life and surroundings feels at the moment.

Previously, Australia was experiencing drought. This year the floods are swallowing up a majority of Queensland. The latest is the Brisbane CBD.

This week, a few things need to happen on the personal front.

I sign my contract tomorrow for my new house.

I need to have some form of answers regarding the fate of my busines. My solicitor happens to live in Brisbane. She had to be evacuated from her office yesterday. So thanks to Mother Nature, it seems like my personal matter, albeit sticky will need to be put on hold.

Again, I am made aware of the omnipotence of Great Mother Nature. One doesn't have much control over it,isn't it? My first brush was when I was stuck in a small town ("Luckless Land" I call it) due to bad weather and my trip was delayed for 2 days, although many preceeding fellow trekkers were already stuck for a good two weeks.

Next week,I start my new job. My new life.

Hopefully, 2011 bodes well for DL and me.

2011-01-10T22:35:00.004+11:00

I have decided...

if and only if I really, as in really end up having children, I know EXACTLY where they will be going to school...

I was trying to google the fashion great, Monsieur G whom I had a fashion brush with whilst in Paris. The man who was interested in my work and was potentially interested to take me in as an assistant (and got my school principal to give me his telephone number) and guess what? I chanced upon this article...

http://the-polyglot.blogspot.com/2008/06/ever-wonder-where-french-fashions-elite.html

Damn, I met a fashion royalty of the most blue-blooded kind.

2011-01-08T00:14:00.002+11:00

Here is an interesting article...

I chanced upon online from the New York Times.

Enjoy!:)

Sustainable Love
The Happy Marriage Is the ‘Me’ Marriage
By TARA PARKER-POPE
Published: December 31, 2010

A lasting marriage does not always signal a happy marriage. Plenty of miserable couples have stayed together for children, religion or other practical reasons.

But for many couples, it’s just not enough to stay together. They want a relationship that is meaningful and satisfying. In short, they want a sustainable marriage.

“The things that make a marriage last have more to do with communication skills, mental health, social support, stress — those are the things that allow it to last or not,” says Arthur Aron, a psychology professor who directs the Interpersonal Relationships Laboratory at the State University of New York at Stony Brook. “But those things don’t necessarily make it meaningful or enjoyable or sustaining to the individual.”

The notion that the best marriages are those that bring satisfaction to the individual may seem counterintuitive. After all, isn’t marriage supposed to be about putting the relationship first?

Not anymore. For centuries, marriage was viewed as an economic and social institution, and the emotional and intellectual needs of the spouses were secondary to the survival of the marriage itself. But in modern relationships, people are looking for a partnership, and they want partners who make their lives more interesting.

Caryl Rusbult, a researcher at Vrije University in Amsterdam who died last January, called it the “Michelangelo effect,” referring to the manner in which close partners “sculpt” each other in ways that help each of them attain valued goals.
Dr. Aron and Gary W. Lewandowski Jr., a professor at Monmouth University in New Jersey, have studied how individuals use a relationship to accumulate knowledge and experiences, a process called “self-expansion.” Research shows that the more self-expansion people experience from their partner, the more committed and satisfied they are in the relationship.

To measure this, Dr. Lewandowski developed a series of questions for couples: How much has being with your partner resulted in your learning new things? How much has knowing your partner made you a better person? (Take the full quiz measuring self-expansion.)

While the notion of self-expansion may sound inherently self-serving, it can lead to stronger, more sustainable relationships, Dr. Lewandowski says.
“If you’re seeking self-growth and obtain it from your partner, then that puts your partner in a pretty important position,” he explains. “And being able to help your partner’s self-expansion would be pretty pleasing to yourself.”

The concept explains why people are delighted when dates treat them to new experiences, like a weekend away. But self-expansion isn’t just about exotic experiences. Individuals experience personal growth through their partners in big and small ways. It happens when they introduce new friends, or casually talk about a new restaurant or a fascinating story in the news.

The effect of self-expansion is particularly pronounced when people first fall in love. In research at the University of California at Santa Cruz, 325 undergraduate students were given questionnaires five times over 10 weeks. They were asked, “Who are you today?” and given three minutes to describe themselves. They were also asked about recent experiences, including whether they had fallen in love.

After students reported falling in love, they used more varied words in their self-descriptions. The new relationships had literally broadened the way they looked at themselves.

“You go from being a stranger to including this person in the self, so you suddenly have all of these social roles and identities you didn’t have before,” explains Dr. Aron, who co-authored the research. “When people fall in love that happens rapidly, and it’s very exhilarating.”

Over time, the personal gains from lasting relationships are often subtle. Having a partner who is funny or creative adds something new to someone who isn’t. A partner who is an active community volunteer creates new social opportunities for a spouse who spends long hours at work.

Additional research suggests that spouses eventually adopt the traits of the other — and become slower to distinguish differences between them, or slower to remember which skills belong to which spouse.

In experiments by Dr. Aron, participants rated themselves and their partners on a variety of traits, like “ambitious” or “artistic.” A week later, the subjects returned to the lab and were shown the list of traits and asked to indicate which ones described them.

People responded the quickest to traits that were true of both them and their partner. When the trait described only one person, the answer came more slowly. The delay was measured in milliseconds, but nonetheless suggested that when individuals were particularly close to someone, their brains were slower to distinguish between their traits and those of their spouses.

“It’s easy to answer those questions if you’re both the same,” Dr. Lewandowski explains. “But if it’s just true of you and not of me, then I have to sort it out. It happens very quickly, but I have to ask myself, ‘Is that me or is that you?’ ”
It’s not that these couples lost themselves in the marriage; instead, they grew in it. Activities, traits and behaviors that had not been part of their identity before the relationship were now an essential part of how they experienced life.

All of this can be highly predictive for a couple’s long-term happiness. One scale designed by Dr. Aron and colleagues depicts seven pairs of circles. The first set is side by side. With each new set, the circles begin to overlap until they are nearly on top of one another. Couples choose the set of circles that best represents their relationship. In a 2009 report in the journal Psychological Science, people bored in their marriages were more likely to choose the more separate circles. Partners involved in novel and interesting experiences together were more likely to pick one of the overlapping circles and less likely to report boredom. “People have a fundamental motivation to improve the self and add to who they are as a person,” Dr. Lewandowski says. “If your partner is helping you become a better person, you become happier and more satisfied in the relationship.”

A version of this article appeared in print on January 2, 2011, on page WK4 of the New York edition.

2010-12-28T22:08:00.003+11:00

Benazir Bhutto & the Anniversary

28th December 2007 was the day Benazir Bhutto was assasinated.

The day marked the anniversary of her death, as well as a memorable day in my life.

I remember that day as one of much excitement and activity.

V and I were much enjoying our new found swinging bachelorette status. We were heading back to Singapore after a short girlish getaway trip to Bintan Island.

The night before, we met the Norwegians there and a bartender named Hitler.

****
On Christmas Eve, V and I danced the night away.

She had a wild and dirty shag with Oscar.

She also met the German that night. He started texting her later for a date.

Why not? I said. She wasn't too sure about dating a white guy.

****

The Old Boy awaited us at the ferry terminal to pick us up.

We had our first date that night.

And then more as the night delved deeper.

Oh that delirious night that compounded to the fraility of my adrenaline junkie train wreck nerves.

It has been exactly three years from that fateful day.

It almost seemed like yesterday, except I just did a reality check and came to feel me now. P's life now.

V is married to the German and happily pregnant with a Eurasian baby due in May.

Just the other day, the Norwegian ("the whitest white guy" I had called him for his unreceptive "non-Asian" tastebuds) whom I haven't seen online in the longest popped out suddenly and wished me a hearty Merry Christmas, like he too rememebered his fun days in Paradise Singapore that didn't seem that long ago.

2010-12-25T00:13:00.002+11:00

Just a Thought...

I just wish I live in some developing country enjoying the good life.

2010-12-23T09:46:00.004+11:00

I didn't know...

being grown up entails so much.

Actually, I do. That's why I am never ready to grow up.

Never ready to stop "playing" ("Come play at my house," is my usual line to Daisy), be a Mrs so-and-so and have kids.

I grow up listening to Marilyn Monroe song. " There comes a time when a man needs a lawyer but diamonds are a girl's best friend..." So I have been told.

Now I find myself requiring 2 different solicitors in 2 different states for 2 separate matters.

What have I got myself into, I wonder?

The festive season and the slowing down of everything administrative is irritating me a little. The solicitor I need around will be uncontactable for a good two weeks whilst she takes a cruise overseas ("otherwise I never stop working," she said). I see my expenses increasing with each day of delay with the sticky matter. My opponent has been playing cat and mouse- we've been using a softly-softly tactic at the moment to avoid any legal carnage at the moment.

On the positive note, I am heading towards the other solicitor's office to deal with a much more pleasant situation (barring the shadow of that former matter lurking at the back of my mind). Fingers crossed that everything is in order.

Now I am thinking about our new pool in our backyard and anticipating a sweet summer decking out on the sun lounge with a martini, re-reading my favourite novel, "Lolita".

2010-12-09T11:08:00.002+11:00

Tales of Transgression and Happy After...

My years of infidelity to DL have done nothing to make me feel like I truly "belong" to that group of cheaters...

Strange eh? I almost feel like a hypocrite sitting on the moral high horse...

****

I believe in karma, as you all know by now.

I really do.

One part of me cannot reconcile happy ending tales of infidelity but there are people out that, which I know have happy endings.

I get perplexed.

****

A younger sister of a good friend recently got married. Let's call the younger sister, Nana. Nana is 29 this year.

When she first got married, she was 24. She married a rich mummy's boy, her uni sweetheart.

Straight out of uni, Nana worked in her family's business.

Mummy's boy hubby who was about 2 years older, under the instructions of his folks went overseas to do his MBA.

Nana met a guy who worked for her family.

He made advances at her, showed her tender, loving care and they made sweet love.

He knew full well she was married. She knew full well she was married.

Naturally, the marriage between Nana and husband broke down. It was an emotionally trying time not just for Nana and husband but Nana's family, including my good friend.

Nana, despite the family's disapproval continued to date this new guy. Naturally, he moved on in his job and stopped working for Nana's family.

Almost 4 years on from this emotional saga, they recently got hitched.

The wedding looked like some fairy tale.

Perhaps just like their love story.

*****

When V and her ex-fiance, Rush finally broke up from their 4-year relationship, Ange who had self-proclaimed as V's BFF had a major part to hammer the last nail into the coffin.

Long story short, BFFs don't go round telling on their best friends to an "outsider", which is your best friend's boyfriend and causing a further rift between your best friend and her parents.

Naturally, Ange is an exception.

Through the social grapevine from yours truly (who often been volunteered information and being the hub of attracting gossip news despite being far removed from everyone else back home), Rush and Ange got married.

Basically, not long after her wish to "wash her hands" off V, she also quickly dumped her boyfriend of two years who loved her to bits. Two months later, she got engaged to Rush.

Within a year, she fell pregnant.

We heard they now have a baby girl and live in the posh part of town, behind the Botannical Gardens.

*****

Mela, a very close friend of mine is the classic poor little rich girl.

She grew up with divorced parents and lived on her own away from her home country since she was nine. Mela first took her a flight alone at eight years old from New York, transiting in Japan and arrived in her home country somewhere in Southeast Asia.

What was most scandalous was that breakdown of the marriage resulted not in a divorce from one household but two within the tightly held patriarchal extended family.

Her mum and her uncle (the father's sister's wife) decided they were young and in love and wanted to move on. The man, leaving behind three daughters as he was so in love with Mela's mother.

So this resulted in an awkward situation for the children from both family during family gatherings. Mela, being in the "supposed" custody of her mum but very much loved by her father was often stuck in the situation where she was possibly secretly being thought of by relatives as being on her mother's side.

Growing up, she dealt with a big spender of a mum who emotionally blackmailed her and made as the go-between to milk more money out of her wealthy dad, given she was the apple of her father's eye. At one stage, her mum went out of control with drugs and depression and was put in a mental institution and later busted and crossed over by her own sibling for drugs and landed in jail.

Mela spent most of her schooling years in Singapore. At one stage, I recalled her bank account was wiped out by her mother and she nearly did not have enough to pay for school fees. Since the age of nine, she was given a generous allowance of $5000 every two months by her grandfather. Naturally, all her money was wiped out by her mum before she could have a chance to properly spend them.

When we were 18, I recalled holidaying in her home country where her dad, younger brother and grandparents lived in a massive house surrounded by more domestic helpers in the form of maids, chauffers and security guards, her grandpa asked her how much money she had in her bank account then. To that, she tried to skirt past the question and grandpa said, "By now, you should at least have $100,000 in savings, no?"

Mela is 31 now, just like me.

Emotional and insecure, despite being attractive, having a great career and enough in the will to last her a lifetime or more.

Good thing is, her Mum has cleaned up her act and sought peace with God. She stopped the drugs, chain smoking and drinking altogether.

Her lover and her have been bankrupt and in the last ten years have picked themselves up and bought Mela a sea front apartment in Singapore where she has been living since 22.

But the damage is done.

Her mum's life experience has spilled over to her love life as an adult, although all she wants is a man who loves and care for her.

Mela too suffered some serious consequences in her love choices through what might be a poor example her mum set out to be. At one stage, she got hooked up with a close colleague's husband. She lost her mind, thought this fucked up man would leave his wife and three kids for her. Her mum got lucky, why couldn't she? she kept rationalising with me when I begged her to stop. It broke my heart.

Mela and jerk were making sweet love whilst his wife was in the hospital, delivering their third child alone.

Then Mela found out she fell pregnant.

Finally, she made the hard decision to terminate. It was something that needed to be done. Enough of family scandals, that would have broke her dear father and grandfather's hearts. Well, even her mum to remind herself of her own errant youth, except she was smart enough to not bear any children with her lover.

It has been almost 25 years since Mela's mum and her uncle got entangled in their love affair.

Still, they continue to stay together...

2010-11-29T00:14:00.003+11:00

The Road out of Hell

Whilst all my girlfriends are basking in impending motherhoods or new found wife statuses or happily single looking forever chic on a jetsetting lifestyle, my life seems to be one in hell.

You see, yours truly is looking less than chic. Doing a short inter-state trip sees me digging deep in my pockets to find some spare change to get me on the road, let alone taking trips to faraway, exotic lands.

Being I could envisage hoping on the plane on the whim, I must first get myself out of hell.

So I finally bite the bullet today.

I told my prospect who is this close to handing me the money that we need to leave the business. Then just before, I emailed the lawyer to inform her that I am formally engaging her to represent us for a swift and (hopefully painless) exit.

I will be in touch with her on the phone tomorrow morning.

I hope I will see light really soon.

2010-11-25T09:53:00.004+11:00

Gripped

It's almost 10am Sad Town time.

I haven't been able to sleep well all night.

I was out the house before 7.30am running errands and taking Fluffball to the vet and by 9am I was home.

DL was out the door for work the same time I did.

The emptiness of the house and me feeling sick from hayfever and my period discomfort are semi-depressing me.

I say semi because I haven't really felt depressed for a long time.

But this morning, I felt something gripped my heart. Like one of those periodic heart squeezes I used to experience everyday of my life when I was living in Sydney.

My energy levels are feeling low at the moment, maybe because I haven't been feeling well. I need to protect my vibe.

The sporadic thoughts of various people in my life and my pending new job gripped me.

Two nights ago and then last night, I began recalling incidents of Dopey and much more about Mr. London that I have long forgotten. I was disturbed that they didn't get lost with time and were still residing somewhere deep in the abyss of my memories. In the past, I would have been disturbed because I stopped remembering. No, they were not sad memories. In fact, they were either funny memories (that gave me a chance to laugh at my own silliness) or ambivalent memories (which I never knew what to make out of and perhaps never will).

The most poignant was the memory of my tormented thoughts of Mr. London. Then I often wondered if he had ever liked me- those years of coming into my life every so often to rock my boat. I have forgotten how important the answer to that question to me was. It unsettled me when that wave of memory came back to remind me of something that I must've have selectively lost since Paris and most importantly, to be gripped by the memory of that pain once more. I don't need to feel it again ever. I am no longer 17, or 20 or 25.

I just saw a picture tagged to Nano's Facebook of his girlfriend and him. They looked great together, probably will make beautiful babies. She was actually one of his ex-girlfriends. When he learnt that DL and I got back together, he asked if I was happy and I said yes, I truly am. As gracious as always, he said he is really happy for me. I was more than a friend to him after all, he said. Some days, I wonder if I didn't cancel my Manila trip, maybe we could have worked towards getting somewhere in the relationship. Plus knowing him, he would most likely want to settle down given the distance. I would have the big society wedding I always wanted. I noticed in the news that their family had recently acquired a significant shareholding in some of the country's conglomerates. Then again, I wonder if I would have done so on a rebound since I was still going through a lot of emotional pain and turmoil post my then split up with DL...

*****

So I laid in bed and mentally, I always had the headcount figure in my head.

How many guys have I fucked?

Out of them, how many did I really like?

To my horror, I could only think of 3- DL, M and Old Boy.

How many guys did I really like but I have never slept with out of my other flings and affairs and in general?

Four- three of which I had some form of intimacy and opportunities to sleep with when we spent the night together but I didn't allow it to happen.

The thought was scary.

It gripped me once more to feel what an errant life I had led.

I know better now to give love when I feel love.

2010-11-24T11:12:00.002+11:00

Thoughts of a Grown Up

Have you had moments where you lay in bed and thoughts and feelings of yesteryears re-surface involuntarily?

There I was lying in bed last night, feeling poorly from a really strange headache that was straining my eyes and to add on, I have been having bad hayfever and bad period pain.

I thought of Dopey whom I have been in touch with. (Bummed into his psycho ex-girlfriend in Sydney on the weekend).

I recalled my university days and my girlish crushes on the Dope.

These days, Dopey would every so often make suggestive innuendos my way during our text conversations.

As I laid on my bed, I saw an image of us on a hotel bed. Him, in his work suit sitting on the bed, me in a dress and lying on his lap as he stroked my hair. I looked up and smiled at him It was a nice image.

Sometimes, I think it was the unfinished business we had that made him still lusting over me.

But we are ten years older now, then five years older post our long drawn out grey arrangement. Now that we are past the age of 30, having been through much more in life experiences, we have grown much wiser. No more thinking about could have beens.

I have stopped postulating about the could have beens in my life in relation to the numerous affairs and flings I had, some that could have potentially lead somewhere.

So have Dope. He is happily attached to his current girlfriend who is six years younger. As he said, that window of opportunity (he would open himself to other distractions) was closed awhile ago unless of course, yours truly would like another go.

Right now, I couldn't see how I could get into another love affair.

At the same time, I could see that even if I do, emotionally, my feathers cannot be ruffled. I think Dopey feels the same way.

I no longer secretly wish that the other party would "love" or want me more than I do him. No ego trip here. What happens in a hotel room stays in a hotel room.

I wonder if it is a sign of growing up, with one's hardening up.

Strangely, I have lost attachment to most people but I find my attachment to DL and Fluffball to have grown but in a calm way. Last weekend, we were in Sydney and we pigged out like before. Our love of food and obsession with the Fluffball must be our binding factor. As we walked hand in hand, looking for the next cheap and cheerful joint to eat in, I felt bliss in my heart. I felt love to be precise in such simple joys of life. If only life could be ever so simple...

A revelation has dawned upon me for awhile now. I couldn't see living apart from DL as a viable option now. Maybe that's what the adults meant when they say they have settled down now. It's a great feeling to have....

*****

So I fell asleep last night with thoughts of my youth and Dopey last texting me about what I want (out of him) which I served back the same question since I meant lunch when I said we must catch up when I am next in Sydney for work training (yes I got offered a job! Probably two by next week! Yippeeeeee)... my phone battery went flat on me and I dozed off anyhow...

I had a dream. Again, this person felt like Dopey but it was Mr. London yet again. I mean, I swear I haven't thought about Mr. London. But he seemed to co-exist with Dopey in my sub-conscious. I woke up forgetting I had this long dream about me going to his house and exploring his house, him holding my hand, like two shy highschool kids on an initial date...

*****

I logged onto my Facebook just before and there, on my Homepage was the very face of Mr. London in a photo with some girl at the club.

It jotted my memory about the dream.

What is the universe trying to say?

I felt a little stirred to find Mr. London coming back into my sub-conscious twice within one month, always when Dopey is in the picture.

They both reminded me of an era in my life where I was a lot more innocent perhaps...

I always knew I would get Dopey one day whilst I was at university but I didn't know how. But I did. I got him. I still capture his imagination till today.

What about Mr. London? I wonder.

I always wanted to have his kiss back then and I felt I knew it would happen. I wanted to go to Paris, partly because it was my excuse to meet him somewhere and hoping for something to happen. He sought me out in Paris (pleasant surprise for me then- I was over the Moon!) but nothing happened. Too much undercurrent during our years of growing up, too much left unsaid, much time is lost. Lost cause I would say.

As a sensible adult, I no longer yearn for him or his affections. No, he never kissed me.

Mr. London was a turning point in my life- he represented everything I wanted for myself for a long time- wealth and social status. I didn't think I was good enough for him in all those eight years I was "trapped" obsessing about him. He was tall, handsome and shy which made him very attractive to me.

But Paris changed everything. As I cried along the Seine River knowing it was a lost cause, I knew that I would and could never put myself in a mindset that I wasn't good enough for anyone and there, I got anyone I want, not without its tragic comedies.

Every so often, I wonder about Mr. London when I am back home. Funnily, I still remember his mobile no. Still the same one after all these years since I knew him at 17.

*****

Mr. London and Dopey- what are their similarities?

Both are tall and good-looking with the same shy, soft-spoken demeanour that I like in a boy when I was growing up.

They both made my heart skipped, especially Mr. London.

Maybe my dream was there to remind me of innocent youth.

But so what?

2010-11-10T10:02:00.003+11:00

Knitted Brows

Today, I woke up feeling that I don't know what to feel.

I feel a slight anxiety brewing beneath my seemingly calm composure.

My business is up in the air- to leave or not to leave?

A big part of me know the answer and points to the former. So what is stopping me?

I woke up feeling like I was transported to another dimension whilst I was asleep.

I recalled what seemed like a dream of Mr. London. I haven't give this person much thought at all. Here he was appearing in the dream. I think we kissed. I was lying on the bed and he was on top of me. We didn't talk and we stopped at the point where we should have proceeded on to do the real thing. But we just stopped and then we moved on in an abstract way. I mean I don't recall a parting shot but simply a feeling that we just moved on very naturally as with the rhythm of life...

This morning, when I recalled about Mr. London, I was reminded of the Dope.The essence of Mr. London in the dream could well be Dope. We have been in touch on sms and the sexual innuendos on sms have petered out but still we talk...

****

Last Friday, Soci had his farewell as he had taken a break from uni and was returning home.

I went to his room and we smoked up.

I hadn't smoked weed in years. The smell of it was pleasantly familiar. I examined the buds put in a mini ziplock bag and smelled it. It was no where near as "fragrant" as the ones we used to have in Paris smuggled from Amsterdam.

Soci and I were having this great conversation about the Law of Attraction. At some stage, I was getting higher and higher and I was reminded of fun times in Paris and then all the great late night conversations I had with V. I suddenly wished she was here smoking up with Soci and I. After all, we are of the kindred spirit. Well put Soci, the Philosopher and V, the Sociologist together, plus me a dilettante and we would have a great conversation and a great night.

*****

A few weeks ago, I met Soci for the first time in yonks... He was severely depressed but thankfully, decided to come out of his shell.

It has been a long year for me and it had been an emotionally tough time for him.

But we hung out and talked till the wee hours of the morning like never before.

What happen to that feeling of youth again? we asked.

He was getting better as we talked through the night.

Somehow Mr. London was brought into the conversation.

Coincidentally, Soci knows Mr. London back home. Soci told me Mr. London seemed jaded by Singaporean girls, he once mentioned in passing.

Anyhow, we were back to the topic of first love.

Mr. London was my first obsession- 8 years. I don't know how I managed to like someone for so long I told him. Our lives was one big coincidence and then I couldn't let go of his memory.

Anyways, the moment has passed.

Soci, as emotional as he was said- why did you not go online the next day the same time after Mr London told you he would be (when Mr L and I had this 6 hr conversation online on 2 diff time zones) many moons ago? He must have liked you since he asked for your photo!!!

I didn't want to disappoint myself I told Soci.

Then there was that meeting in Paris and walking along the Champs Elysee that amounted to nothing...

Ah well, c'est la vie.

I don't know where this post is heading... my thoughts and feelings are jumbled at the moment...

Oh, one more thing. Strangely positive things have been happening yesterday.

I got called for a job interview that I wanted. So far two out of the three jobs that I really wanted are interested in my background.

Then I received 2 unexpected calls from Singapore and one Facebook message from friends who cared but I wasn't expecting. One was Soci and the other was Bella. Bella told me she had been telling Shania on Sunday that she wanted to ring me. Shania had also written to me to see if I wanted to go to Taipei with her. I have known the girls since I was thirteen, It was super strange. I mean, no one ever rings me these days, perhaps B occasionally.

It's nice to know my old friends are still there for me. Funny, I have been away from home much longer now than the time I knew them when I was living in Singapore.

Anyhow, my attention span is short today.

Will write more coherently the next time...

2010-10-28T23:48:00.004+11:00

An Old Riddle Unravelled (Moving forward from "The Meeting")

Within expectations, I didn't get to meet up with Dopey in Sydney this time. Dope is back in the game, career wise and as busy as a bee could be, wheeling and dealing multi-billion dollar deals within the financial markets. He has risen up the ranks and seems to need more than 24 hours a day.

For old friend's sake, I like to make it an annual affair to catch up when I am back in town. But even waiting up till 1am proved to be futile since his work schedule has a timely way of keeping up with me. Work stretched till nearly 3am and by 8.30am, he is back at work. Tough luck.

We did the texting to and fro thing.

I asked him what exactly was his position title now.

He told me sometimes it was this and sometimes that, depending on who he was dealing with.

Vague and nice as he liked it, he texted.

What is so nice about being vague, I asked. Have he ever thought if he weren't so vague about us, things could have taken a different turn? I continued.

I don't think of the could have beens. No point!

I agree with you and came to realise about my past experiences after Nepal and my nervous breakdown since the past is gone, future yet to come and the present is reality. But what I do think about is what could I have done better in those past experiences for now and apply it in current situations going forward:)

I know what you mean. Maybe we could have a crack at it again:P

So that started opening up a can of worms....

Of why things never came to fruition, relationship and carnal wise... first it took a more suggestive tone and then the messages got more serious.

*****

(To cut a long story short, I will quote his side of the story, giving you the gist. We were taking it back to the October Spring of 2005...)

Because the night you stayed over i was ready for you but i thought you didn't want to. Given I was inexperienced and on a break I didn't want to push it. But I didn't tell you I was on a break. Later I went back into my relationship at the time and I didnt want to cross that path again given the previous outcome. It has bugged me since.

What did he mean by that and what path was he talking about? I asked. I wanted him to elaborate since we were on the topic of our past.

That the stars were aligned but I didn't realise. That we were lovers that did everything but love. Its a travesty of my doing

Yup. It was sad. I wanted to be in love but U were ambivalent. I cldn't sleep with u that night cos I wanted the experience to last longer & not ended up as a one nite stand which is where it wd stop in my past experience. U were a uni sweetheart/crush of mine & so that nite turned out pleasantly surprising for me & I didn't want it to end. As for the rest with DL & I & where u & I wd end, I wanted to allow fate to take me...

I appreciate what ur saying. It wouldn't have been a one night thing. We're still in touch now after all as we have a genuine connection. I hope I didn't disappoint you. I wish I wasn't so thick. Sorry. And no, ur not a pity fuck!

Thanks. I reckon, no matter what, we'll always be frens. I recalled the next morn when u ask me wat u were & I said sthg like as status quo. I was faithless & didn't think u wd want anything serious going fwd plus I didn't know u on a break. So there. No clarity = no fate

Well I hope that helps you solve our old riddle. I think I needed to tell you

Oh good. I hate to leave stones unturned. Appreciate u telling me after all these years:)

Shutting the gate after the horse bolted...

Heheheheh

Clippity clop clippity clop clippity clop clippity clop

Hahahahhaahaa! Me back in Sad Town & on my way home. 2 meetings tonite. Ttyl

2010-10-27T12:15:00.002+11:00

Men in Suits

You know that feeling when your heart skips a beat when you spot a hunk or a babe or catch that whiff of scent on a stranger that give you the tingles?

Being out of the game (in every sense, flirting and otherwise career) make me extremely sensitive to these sensations as I sat foot in Sydney. In this cosmopolitan city, where every corner allows you to spot a tall, handsome and suited man, I feel this spike in my sensual radar like never before.

At the casino, I noted a suited handsome black man having an after work drinks with his mates. In another corner, a tall, beefy Asian croupier spun the Fortune Wheel as punters placed their bets.

In the city, there were men in suits galore. I was reminded of my time in the corporate world, me smartly dressed.

Now I am a dag who has lost all flirtation skills. Don't think I remember how to give the eye or seductive smile. I feel like a nerd.

The other night, my dear old friend Dope must have tried to draw me into a suggestive conversation, probably half in good jest, the other half possibly trying his luck to suss things out. The once spontaneous P would have loved a good flirtatious word play and fanned it harder. But this time, I just let things slide and fade into oblivion.

Maybe I am just letting my life slide.

But yeah, just perving at those tall, well built suited professional men, I felt my "loins" being stirred..;)

2010-10-25T22:28:00.005+11:00

On the Line

As many of you know, my finances have been on the line for quite a long while.

I don't remember when was the last time I bought myself a dress.

In fact, I don't dress up anymore and wear the most daggy repeated outfit every time I am not wearing my business uniform. I stop looking at myself in the mirror. I have probably applied make up no more than three times this year.

With a few things pending, I am in the midst of trying to wrap up this fucked up business of mine that sees me expending more money in a year than I made in three. Hiring a good lawyer to get ourselves out of this mess is in the horizon.

I got to admit I am tired. Drained.

I just want my freedom back- being enslaved to debts whilst we slogged our asses off is just not that sort of life DL and I have envisioned our joint lives to be.

I mean, me, good old P is supposed to lead a charmed life, isn't she?

At all costs, we want our freedom back.

Heck the money foregone, think about how to make more going forward. Anything but this darned business.

Don't worry about the money, my mum said. Even she has relented. I just want my children to be happy, she continued.

So where do we start?

I am quite happy to be a cleaner to be honest. Waitressing is not a bad idea except I can't foresee myself working another late night, at least not when it's not my own business.

With much trepidation, I actually and painfully put together a resume, then a cover letter.

You see, I never thought I would ever need one again in my life. Or to get a reference from my past employer. I have been secretly resentful when I left despite the hearty farewells and presents.

Truth be told, in my memory I lumped the dark years of my emotionally disturbed life with my time in the corporate world. I was not in control. I was a train wreck.

I always had the good mind to wipe my life in Sydney and my life in corporate suit out of my memory or existence forever. Except the part where I made good enough play money.

Really, I would much prefer my corporate experience as a thing of the past. Never to be repeated in my planned charmed life going forward.

The thought of wearing a suit and going to work in public transport as a salaried professional have a way of sending me heart palpitations.

I was and am actually scared.

So you see, I needed to gain control over my life so I got myself a business instead. Really, I wanted to buy myself a job.

Now with everything on the line, I realise the necessity to go and get a job has become so real, there is no escaping.

I need to put myself out there. On the line. To be judged.

After shortlisting a number of prospective jobs which I think I have the relevant experience and skill sets for, I started uploading my resume and cover letter. I applied for a consulting job on Friday. I was praying for an interview. In fact, I reckon I would score one.

On Sunday, I got a rejection email. I was shattered. My anxiety rising again.

I have been out of the game too long.

So where does that leave me?

Today, I am in Sydney. My mum is in town.

It's been ages since I took a train in this cosmopolitan city. I was definitely out of practice. My heart skipped a bit as my radar was up and I spotted tramps and junkies walking in the train station and carefully meandered my way through the crowds to avoid coming into close proximity with these types. It's funny how one can become so un-used so quickly to the landscape and tempo of city life though one has lived and travelled in big major cities and have come across enough lunatics and junkies to be de-sanitised.

I took a train to the Wynyard Station (before heading to the Older Sibling's house in the fancy Lower North Shore) where once upon a time, I used to alight every morning to get to work, jostled in the crowd, semi-depressed and breakfast in one hand as I brisk walked to work with a heavy heart.

I decided to go to the Hunter Connection where I would occasionally go for my favourite Malaysian Har Mee for lunch at this particular Malaysian eatery with Dopey or alone for old times' sake since my stomach was rumbling. Spontaneously, I decided to send Dope a SMS to see if he was up for lunch. It's been more than a year since we last met. Unfortunately, he has a business lunch.

Alone I went.

The Har Mee was unavailable today so I opted for Hainanese chicken rice. The man seemed to recognise me like I have never left. I was looking daggy in jeans and in my old winter coat, hair in a mess. It has been more than two years since I left Sydney.

Nothing seemed to have changed- the people working in the eatery, the food and the type of people who frequented the joint.

I sat alone eating.

On my right, two men in corporate suits were talking, one caucasian and one Asian. They were discussing about the banking systems and what not. My headhunter's radar got up. I got a sense that these guys were from the buy-side ie. funds management.

On my left was a young Asian couple. They must be in their mid-twenties. Both of them were in corporate wear. The guy was complaining to his girlfriend about work and possibly about his superior and how superior wasn't treating him right at work and basically being unreasonable but not willing to give him feedback on his work. I felt that heart palpitation once more and shivered at the thought of being back in the corporate world or in the game so to speak. For some reason, the couple reminded me about Dopey and I. He used to look stress from work and would complain more quietly about his passive aggressive boss.

It was not too long ago that I was there, just like the young couple.

Why do they look young to me, I wonder?

At age 31, I really do feel I haven't the energy to want to be in the rat race or climb up the corporate ladder so to speak.

It is strange. Me sitting where I was in that eatery. Once upon a time, I sat in that very same spot, except I was hungry for power and driven, despite my constant fatigue and unhappiness.

It dawned on me that I was the one who have changed.

I was almost afraid I might bump into someone from my past life in the corporate world. I quickly wiped my mouth after lunch and continued on my journey.

After lunch, I got a sms from Dope who asked if everything is ok in my universe.

Nope, I said. Then I texted him about my observation of that Asian couple I just saw at our Malaysian eatery and I told him it reminded me of us a few years ago and it gave me the shivers to think that I need to be back working for someone else again.

How was he, I asked.

Busier than before, he said. The only difference now is that he now has two Associates working under him. Dope is not longer an Analyst. He has risen from the ranks. Still in the corporate world, still in the rat race.

He used to practically lived in the office when he was still working for the American investment bank. Busier now? But you used to work heaps already, I said.

I mean how many hours does he have a day, I wonder?

Even in my business, I could start at 8am and be home at 10pm and that is enough to take the life out of me. I realise even my body is not as resilient as it used to be.

My current life thematically dominated by my business affair is in limbo.

The idea of being back in the work force only adds to the anxiety.

I mean, I am back on the line.

I almost feel naked, exposed.

I just want my life back.

Normalised. Get out of my current situation, get rid of those god awful credit card debts and no more living hand to mouth. No more feeling trapped in a situation where my expenses flood in faster than my income could handle.

It feels like there is little choice at the moment but to get a real job.

Both are equally scary prospects, except now that my entire life is being put on the line, the latter might well be a more merciful choice.

In any case, something's got to give.

I am just biding my time and I reckon time will lead me to where I am meant to be.

Right now, all I know is I just want my freedom back, even if it means having to work for someone else. Perhaps.

2010-10-18T21:12:00.002+11:00

End of the Road

or is it the beginning of a new life?

So yes, I have hit the end of the road with the business.

Bills, bills and more bills. Then there is all the failed deals. A few innocent people got hurt along the way. I had a week of sleepless nights and chasing all over town for money taken off by a rogue crook. I could only threaten to take him to the authorities, except the business of a good person will be severely compromised. I could only threaten and that was it.

Revenge needs to take the form of the unorthodox kind. The crook needs fixing up. Someday, we promised ourselves. Some day.

I have wheeled and dealed on both sides of the law and still under the table deals can fall through.

I have exhausted all my resources and used up all my bag of tricks.

Then there are the suckers who first took my money and fooled me into buying the business don't stop taking.

I am tired.

Last Friday, I broke down and cried in my home office.

I haven't sobbed and cried so loudly for the longest.

I didn't know how I could go on. I really don't.

Even to plan for an exit route, I still need more dole. An extra $22,000 or so to bail us out.

I sat down and did the sums yesterday. We are looking at a debt of $325,000.

The price for me to learn to smarten up.

I am only 31. Imagine the amount we have just spent in a year that I used to take 3 years to make as a headhunter. It feels like a long year.

Thankfully, we have no kids.

Or rather, I am thankful that I am still alive.

So I decided to ask for a sign on how to move forward in my life. I walked to the book shelf and picked out a book of quotes " Be Happy".

Voila- there laid my life's lesson:

Cut your Losses

Every good poker player knows it:
sometimes you have to throw in your hand.
The trick is knowing when to fight on
and when to bail out.
A good general rule:
when it's causing more harm than good,
it's time to leave it.

- Being able to persist is not the most important thing- the ability to start over is. F. Scott Fitzgerald

Time to pack up, Warrior, I told myself.

2010-10-06T12:58:00.009+11:00

First In, Last Out

Sometimes I marvel at the workings of life...its ins and outs.

When I studied accounting at school and university, we learnt about different methods of inventory keeping. There is the First In First Out (FIFO) and the Last In First Out (LIFO) method of accounting for stock flow. I thought the latter was stupid- why would you want to sell your most recent stock first, assuming they are all identical when you should be thinking of getting rid of the old stuff first? Then there are perishable goods with a shelf life.

I apply that to life.

One would think that when you go into the dating circuit way before your peers, you should be ahead of the game. So you have sussed out the market before everyone else got in, then as the time is ripe with more entering into that pool of dating game, you have since trained your eye to pick that one gem in that crowd, get hitched and you exit the dating game before you become a Christmas leftover. You get overridden by your younger counterparts who form that new wave of fresh, young and delectable daters prowling and searching for fun, love or incidentally both. You see, even humans have a shelf life, though its span is subjective to the beholder. General consensus or social conditioning may suggest that ladies start hedging for an exit strategy and being more than ready to go by one’s late twenties and make way for the new. So I apply the FIFO approach to life- if you got in the game earlier than your peers, you would have had your fair bit of shopping around and first to come out with top goods.

In recent years, say the last 7 years or so, I did observed an interesting phenomenon of LIFO amongst ex-classmates from social hearsay predominantly served to me by one of my best friend, B. (You see, I am not usually home in Singapore for the most parts of the year or the whole year in this current situation so I know no better.) Vaguely remember dull Jane or ugly Betty or geeky Nelly from your high school days? Now I am beginning to think that there are some smarts around these people. In a timely fashion, they get in the dating game fast and swiftly at the “ right” age i.e. university and wasted no time in shopping and/ or coquetry, pick up THE ONE and bam, you got a marriage or in our culture, as old friends, you might be served the red bomb (ie. Chinese red coloured wedding invitations) a couple years before you shy to age 25! Might as well- just in time before Christmas! The worst thought is to become a Christmas leftover with a fast diminishing shelf life.

******

Yesterday, I took stock of my own life.

***

It has been 2 long weeks in business where deals are going awry. That is another story in itself.

Night before, DL dropped the bombshell on me. Not the red, joyous kind.

He hasn’t been happy with me- I am leading a double life, he felt. The weight our business did nothing to improve his happiness and quality of his life. The deep seated issues have compounded over the years. We left too many things unsaid and we have grown tired of even getting in an argument of you say, I say. We thought we have forgiven or let go. We both thought we did.

He could never see himself marrying me, he said. He meant it.

I do consider myself off-market for quite a while now, actually. Not because I feel like an expired good but because I have no real desire to be a shelved item.

It started off with that dull resignation or was it resolution when I decided to return to Sad Town 2 years ago to be with DL whilst I tried to make peace with my emotional mess spilt over by my past with DL pre-reconciliation and then the pain from my affair with the Old Boy. By March 2009, I was ready to make the next step. The astronomical investment into this dying/ growing business was my big leap of faith in affirming my relationship with him. You see, I am a realist and a pragmatist at the end of the day. I believe in putting my money where my mouth is.

DL will be that harbour of love for me, the errant boat to hang up sails for good.

He has always been the designated person- so why did I even grow errant? I wondered.

Well, precisely since we met at a time in our lives where this designated harbour didn’t feel so safe and secured for me. The actions of his youth (and he still is) was dictated by his emotions and recklessness, which caused a hitherto disciplined and focused P to feel like she was living a joint life with a train wreck which she had no control over. That made her unhappy for the most part. But she did feel secured in his love.

So who says one can’t live on love?

I have learnt my lesson too late.

The damage is done.

But as they say, the greatest healer in life is love.

Let’s hope we have enough in us.

Propositions coming my way these days did little to peak my excitement or send an adrenalin rush like it once did where I was that hungry, wanton cat on the prowl for the next kill to preserve my (in)sanity and Ego. I was in need of the next kill to fill in the emotional gap I experienced in my life. I could not bear that torturous feeling of emptiness.

(Funny, my Tibetan Buddhist name bestowed to me by a highly ordained monk relates to the Buddhist concept of Emptiness- the most profound Buddhist teaching that I am still trying to meditate on and come to grips with. An important lesson I need to make peace and apply in my life.)

I was always a hunter but now, I can safely say I have lost my killer instincts. But again, this is perhaps a little too late for DL.

***

I have been missing home a lot with so many challenges with our lives since the start of our business.

I missed my close friends and wonder how each of them are doing.

So Del is due to deliver a baby boy in November. She wrote to say she missed me and would be great if I was home. She has since quit her air stewardess job and took classes to learn how to bake wonderful cakes and goodies, pictures of those yummy pastries posted up on her Facebook. She adapted her role as a happy mother-to-be quite naturally and doing an awesome job out of it.

Then Janine wrote with pregnant news- second baby due sometime next year.She was another player who saw her changing boyfriends as quickly as she changed her underwear. A few disgruntled years in the corporate world and a couple more of bad relationships and staying single for couple of years or so, she found love again in church and walked down the aisle as quickly as she spotted the man of her life. In an equally unpredictable manner, they were surprised with baby news and she took up her maternal role just as effectively and lovingly.

I have yet to see my best friend, B’s baby girl in person- baby E must be fast growing. B mentioned that she is neither excited or unhappy about the arrival of that bundle of joy but knowing her, she is probably as dutiful and as adaptable as she is in handling any matters of importance. B is after all, a safe pair of hands.

My other best friend, V got married last week. I weren’t there but I sent her a text to wish her happiness. She replied that my text meant a lot to her and she wished I was there.

Yesterday, she wrote to say that she didn’t want me to say she was doing a B thing to me again- yes she just found out that she is 8 weeks pregnant so I am one of the first to know!!! Her German hubby is over the moon and it was so unreal when she felt the baby’s heartbeat. I was so happy for her.

Just yesterday before that message from her, I thought about my 2 best friends, B and V. I am now the only unmarried one standing. Their lives are in order or rather stable and they are experiencing marital bliss. Good on them.

I recall I had been one of the first to have a date with the opposite sex and always the girl with the interesting boy stories to tell.

Larger than life I had led my life. Still is, but in a struggling type of way.

I thought life struggles of the financial and emotional kind would also have a shelf life. When one hits 30, slightly older and wiser, surely those struggles would disappear with age and happier days could be had?

Here I am, that last woman standing.

The vision in my mind’s eye shows that around me, my close girl friends live a routine of marital bliss with preggie bellies. Gone are their days of emotional struggles, conflict and pain.

It wasn’t too long ago that V and I were at Pump Room where we met the German. 2.5 years ago and the memory and the feeling of fun and carefree-ness as swinging bachelorettes still haunt my memory. I was living an emotionally precarious life (little did I realise). We were pushing 29 and at New Year, we said damn, we are almost 29 and then going 30. We are now 31. The residues from that recent past continue to set a bleak backdrop to my current emotional state of mind. Trying, still trying to work on my path of happiness and inner peace, fighting those inner demons of nostalgia and pain that should have no place in my life that could otherwise be quite safe. Emotionally speaking.

The angst is long gone. For the better part of me, I have made peace. Slowly, I am coming out of my dark, heavy shell, finding happiness step by step and making the best of my life with Dl, drawing colour back to my life.

I am feeling A-ok. Until, DL's bombshell two days ago.

******

Again, my life’s path debunks my own theory at applying one’s social progression of life from the stock taking method of first in first out (FIFO).

I must be made of a different stock altogether with an infinite shelf or rather, expiry life altogether. As life would have it, I seem to set an example of that new breed of stock that might well go by the first in last out (FILO) stock keeping rule.

From the looks of life, I might as well stay in cold storage. Actually I prefer a time capsule. Marriage is no longer an option, so is that inclination to put myself on the market, so to speak.

FILO sounds to me like a case of no takers. Or do I hear taker out there?;)

So let all FILO ladies be preserved in an age defying time capsule where we bask blissfully in eternal youth!:D

2010-09-22T22:57:00.002+10:00

I can't wait...

for the days to go by.

Hurry up, hurry up... I hear the voice in my heart.

This week, the sun is out. Every morning feels like a great day as I walk my dog with a sense of anticipation in my heart.

By afternoon, I would usually have done all my to do things on the list in my home office. Calls put out to see how the deals are looking.

My whip have been cracking hard. I aim for 3 done deals by the end of October.

Looking great it seems. I continue to hold my breath.

Hopefully, by this Friday I can ring the bell.

Ding-a-ling! Like what we used to do in our headhunting days when the deal was done and dusted. But most importantly, paid.

It will be my very first deal.

Finally. It has been a long year.

Now I can't wait for January to come.

Vanuatu will beckon. So I have planned.

A much needed new car by 2010. It's looking like a Golf GTI. DL's toy to keep him happy for a bit.

With dog, cash in bank, new car and a nice holiday in the South Pacific, it's back to happy family mode.

I've set my sights on a few modest apartments in the Sydney Eastern suburbs.

If things go as planned, I will be shopping by February 2011. A nice little apartment in my name, for starters;)

2010-09-20T13:12:00.002+10:00

Unclouding

There is always something nostalgic about reading testimonials from alumni students on the fashion institute I attended. Students dating back to the graduating class of early 80s and how that summer in Paris changed their careers, if not life. Then there are the latest graduating class all hyped up and excited about how living and studying fashion in Paris had opened the doors for them.

I was once there. The European summer of 2004. It wasn't too long ago or was it?

Often, I wonder where this 30ish years of my life have taken me, especially in the last decade. My life experience and misadventures have re-invented my personas a few times over. From a struggle to a high and now back to earth- I have been that struggling student, living abroad, to that ever so popular social queen to that up and coming corpoate flyer to that emotional wreck to an at peace, ambition-less housewife to where I am today.

Back on earth, I am. And quite penniless.

But Paris- it still holds my imagination. I still feel the tingles and excitement at the thought of fashion designing and Paris.

Perhaps one must have something to dream and look to in the future when life seems rather uninspiring and bleak at the moment, no?

So each night, I study the textbooks and design books and the fashion business books I have amassed as a before bedtime education session. Sometimes, I joint down notes to be used for that business plan that will eventuate at some points in my life.

There is something to look forward to, something to remind me that I am still me- dreamy P who still dares to dream and that there is still much more on the to do list before I die waiting to come to fruition and ticked off before she dies...

2010-09-07T22:19:00.002+10:00

Weirdo

I must have been living on another planet.

Facebook has a way of making me feel so when I start finding old friends through connections with existing friends.

I find myself adding old high school classmates from the time where we were only 13.

Whilst I am struggling to make ends meet Down Under, here I find my old friends in marital and maternal bliss. Obviously they are doing great.

Funny how some of them used to moan about being "broke", having a mum who probably struggled to make ends meet as a single parent or having parents working hard in blue collar jobs to make a decent living.

I was the girl who didn't know what "broke" meant. I even shouted some to food since I was the girl who had $10 pocket money a day. To be precise, I had little regard to money since there will always be more to dip into, wasn't it? Well, that was what I thought.

So people have grown up, did well at school and graduated from university. They find jobs, make their folks proud, found a nice boy (I would hope), got married and made babies. That's what people do at home from the many friends I noticed on Facebook.

Here I am, young/ old P who seems to relate better to the other type. Smart, party set always roaming in social circles- a greater proportion of these people who don't hold a day job like myself. It makes going home seem like such a great holiday, the endless social events, parties and catch ups- long lunches, mindless window shopping and all things superfically brainlessly Singaporean that I so miss. All light-hearted with no "adult" responsibilities. I feel more at home here.

Now I really wanna go home!

I would like to think I am in the process of getting there.

Soon P, soon...;)

2010-08-24T13:40:00.006+10:00

Star Crossed

The Dope, or rather Dopey and I are like two star crossed lovers.

As old time readers of this blog might recall, Dopey dominated the theme of my grey arrangement love life in 2006.

We always seem to miss catching up with each other.

Our grey arrangement in Sydney was ad hoc, like we never make enough time for each other. Him rather, not me.

So when he finally have enough time and sexual finnesse to want me, last year to be precise, I was in a different place emotionally and mentally.

He is a dear friend nonetheless.

We always looked out for each other in our careers and then some more. Therein lies our endearing bond, not to mention the vibe of romantic undercurrent we experienced from each other dating back to our early uni days.

*****

Some of you may recall our last meeting this time last year.

A year has since past. Yet again. Now how did that happen?

August is the month of his birthday and like many other preceding years, I always take the initiative to send him a well wishing text like any dutiful friend. That was a couple of weeks ago.

How are you? was his reply.

I told him not too good.

I was afraid you would say that, was his reply.

(I always had a niggling suspicion that the Dope had chanced upon my blog, hinted by his supposed knowledge of my getaway trips. A few times years ago, I spotted on my web tracker a blog reader in the American I-bank he worked in the day I bummed into
him after god knows how long we haven't met. Subsequently, I spotted the same reader checking in on my blog for the next few days... Dope is the stealthy sort of guy, always knowing things on the quiet, never revealing too much about what he knew or remembered. We were in a relationship where we just never talked about too many things about us that appeared too confronting for our own comforts. We operated on the premise of mutual understanding and the silence shared in joint moments was somewhat comforting at times...)

He asked for us to catch up when I was next in Sydney.

I told him I have been too broke to travel but he can let me know when he was next back in Sad Town to visit his folks.

So I happen to be travelling to Queensland yet again for work this week and will be flying into Sydney on the weekend.

I texted before to see if we could have a catch up while I am in town.

Must it be this week? I just made arrangements to be back in Sad Town this weekend! came the reply.

Yup. It's for work.

We are just 2 star crossed lovers destined not to meet!:p I mean how often do u even come back to Sad Town?! I continued.

Haaahahha, I knew you were going to say that! Dope came back at me, knowing full well how expressively melodramatic I could be in my old days.

How serendipitiously telepathic!;D

It's true we are 2 star crossed lovers. Our timings were never right or in syn, we needed time to adjust and get used to each other!

The only time the stars did aligned for us was the day we bummed into each other on the bus just we were alighting in Sad Town from Sydney. He sat 2 seats directly before me and was meant to miss the bus but the driver did stopped for him and admitted him(not without giving Dope some words first of course) as he flagged it down wildly as our bus was leaving the terminal. I totally missed him (he re-enacted the story to me of course). But for only 3 hours.

Thereon, it started a grey arrangement that I never dreamt of. How was I to learn that the Dope (yes, my major uni crush from 6 years ago- cool, hearthrob,stealthy, musically talented Dope from studying law and commerce and who came from Boys' Grammar) actually remember the first day he met P?

Ah well, there's always another time to meet. We have taken enough rainchecks and have since lost count. But it's all cool- we'll eventually catch up :)

2010-08-03T10:16:00.003+10:00

Oh Ted

Ted is a person I haven't heard about in ages.

To be precise, Ted was a two-nites stand during my social round in Manila.

That was three and a half years ago.

So I found him added to my facebook late last week.

Then a short message in my inbox two days ago:

"Hi P, how are you? TC"

Took me awhile to figure what "TC" stood for since that wasn't his initials. Maybe someone wrote to me using his account? Then I realised he meant "take care", in his usual rap-I-am-so-cool style. Ted, in my memory has always been a comic character, his impulsive demeanour had amused me.

Random. That was totally random, just like our brief encounter.

2010-07-28T20:47:00.005+10:00

Blast from the Past (sequel to “The Wrong M”)

As we now know, the life of P is one hell of an uphill struggle.

Erotic action of the legal or illegal variety has come to a complete halt.

This is the story of P’s life and should aptly be titled “The rise and decline of P’s life”.

*****

Social life in Sad Town is virtually non-existent. Well, perhaps if we count Teddy and Gof (whom I am slowly losing to a girlfriend). Teddy has been our eating buddy. Oh and the occasional Soci and girlfriend.

Daisy and I have too fallen out due to her bimbotic brain and callous, foul mouth. So I am completely girlfiend-less, which is a bugger. Well, not that I really care. My real friends are back home anyway.

DL and I are constant companions to each other, completely cut out from a normalised social life (just short of Teddy) and we reckon when the money starts rolling into our business, our joint lives would probably improve and become more “normal”. Well, by “normal” we meant we would have more of each other. Our sex life would probably be re-invigorated, we will buy the house and his nice sporty car, we will be fine dining again, hanging out at the day spa and taking small weekend trips. Everything can then fall into place.

You see, I am beginning to suspect that we are closet misanthropes and self-indulgent individuals. We definitely know how to enjoy life and we know that the more we get wealthier, there would be less time for others but ourselves. We don’t run out of ideas on what we can do SO LONG as we have cash in our wallets. We rarely get bored.

Our lives in Sad Town are a nice little niche, shaped like a capsule as we organise our lives around just the two of us and the Fluffball. Friends (perhaps the lack of and being bothered) have little influence over our thoughts and time. There are not many people we care to socialise or hang out with in Sad Town since they are mainly fair-weathered friends so life is pretty much simplified for a good part of the year unless I make my social rounds back home and around in Asia. Excessive drinking, partying and socialising makes up for my lack of here in Sad Town. I am that special girl back in town once more and once my month is up, it’s back to real world – my insulated sad, Sad Town.

It’s not too bad actually. I quite enjoy time out and then back to my neat, routine life. Makes it easy for me to monitor how my life is tracking along.

******

I rarely get any phone calls unless it is of a business nature, or worst still, the automatic reminder from the bank that my credit card once again busted its limit. So are text messages.

So one day, I suddenly received an sms from an unfamiliar number.

It was the Man.

He mentioned about being in Sad Town on his way to the coast and would very much love a catch up.

To spare you readers all the to-ing and fro-ing of the smses (probably no more than three since being a reformed polygamist and a recluse has made me a rather terse person), we set a time and venue and agreed to meet up. On my part, there is a big curiosity on what exactly did he want from me since the last fiasco sms accidentally sent to him a year ago (his sudden and last attempt to be in touch) should have ward him off a bitch like me. My only thought a year ago was that he was hoping to see if I could extend my contacts to help him score a job whilst he was back in Sydney. I even alluded that I was no longer a headhunter then. But no, he seemed so keen to meet up, nonetheless.

I mean, the Man was just someone (well, sort of a friend for a while who was attracted to yours truly on the day we met on a boat party) whom I had spent a random night with some four years ago.

Then a week after, he had his bucks’ night. Three weeks later, he was back home in India for his big day. I was told by him that it was going to be a big shebang with elephants and the works.

In case you are wondering, nope it wasn’t an arranged marriage. It was more like a whirlwind romance on his holiday back home in New Delhi on that fateful month of October in 2005; where before the next trip home in February 2006 became his wedding day. The wife was his sister’s friend and a girl he was very much infatuated with when he was a boy of eighteen. He felt that she was way out of his league then. But of course, times changed. The Man was now a well travelled young professional within the financial industry living in the hip and affluent lower north side Sydney suburb of Mosman and who had acquired his new found status as an Australian citizen. On a dinner date with the said girl who has become his wife, they danced on the dance floor and with all the joyous music in the background, the light-heartedness of alcohol running through his veins, the air pervading of Bollywood romance, the Man went down on one tipsy knee and proposed to her there and then.

The day before that fateful October trip back to India, the Man finally got to hang out with me one on one (after many rainchecks and reschedules on my end) and it was that day, he realised I had a boyfriend. When we parted, he held my hand and looked at me in a strange way and wished me happiness.

So that was history.

I am sure we have both came a long way in our separate lives.

Never a need to cross paths again.

Not now or ever.

The dirty was done. Dirty linens should be washed and put away. Or even better,destroyed.

It appeared though, the Man was hoping to resurrect that old memory, like his persona and feel good thoughts have been encapsulated in that February summer of 2006.

2010-07-26T01:32:00.003+10:00

Lately...

I keep getting dreams of ex-lovers and flings...

In case you are wondering, I haven't or have no wish to pull out old skeletons from the closets or rattle any cages. Emotionally, mentally and physically speaking. I haven't been reminiscing or thinking of anyone.

But I kept getting random dreams- a re-surface of my sub-conscious. Those feelings in some form of hurt, shame, guilt, fear and disappointment I might have experienced with those various individuals.

2 weeks ago, I had a couple of dreams on consecutive dreams on the Koran. Then came The Man (yes, I still have a story to tell about our meeting), followed by M and just last night, Nano.

The Koran and Nano dreams stirred me with the most poignant and surreal emotions. In one of the dreams, the Koran suddenly pull open the shower curtain whilst I was showering exposing my naked body which I was quick to cover my breasts. He meant to mock but a hurt expression was written on his face. Whilst in the other dream with Nano, it felt like a sequel to our real life encounter where we parted at a train station in Sydney many moons ago. Three years to be exact. Here in the dream, there was another girl from Manila and there was me. He chose the other girl. He just wasn't in love enough with me.

Last night's dream with Nano opened up a can of worms in the form of memories. I remember my precarious emotional and mental state. I don't think I would ever fall back to be that emotional train wreck that I was. I have moved on but still my past continues to haunt me and stir my thoughts as I read my old entry.

2010-07-21T20:05:00.003+10:00

Tales of the Grown Up

As a young child, I find it a challenge to multi-task or focus on too many things at hand.

I was a one-boy-I-adore-at-a-time, do-one-thing-at-a-time type of girl. I could only read one book at anytime so as not to mess up my thoughts, feelings and sequence of any one story. I would also never flip to the back of the book to know the ending in advance. You see, I loved to keep myself in suspense because once I knew the ending, I would never read the book again. I would defnitely not be reading the same book a second time.

As I get older, I see a metamorphosis in my mind and attitude in life. I realised I could fall in love with a few at a time, read a few different books and genre at a time, multi-task, fond of finding the ending to a book and finish reading it regardless. I definitely find myself becoming a voracious yet selective reader, sometimes re-visiting and re-reading a particular book at different junctures in my life either to draw different perspectives and reading experience or just to savour the beautiful arrangements of prose by the crafty author.

Funny how I experienced the world so differently as a child and as a grown up. That willful ignorance of my childhood to perceive life in two dimensions are bygone days of lost innocence. Now as a grown up, my instincts warn me to be more discerning, more careful. Always appear the ever charming Miss P in social company but don't fall for your own charms...

2010-07-21T19:05:00.002+10:00

You know your Heart never lies...

when you feel that quick pulsate of your heart, that sweet lump in your throat as you swallow your saliva the upmteeth time as you try to contain that adrenalin rush that keeps your excitment running sky high...

You feel like you have just chanced upon the best kept secret of the world and that you need to share to someone QUICKLY except you don't know who because no one would ever share your elation except yourself.

You have a Eureka moment! Your thoughts racing a zillion miles a second!

You feel the slight nervousness of your compulsion as you attempted to draw out your nearly maxed out credit cards from the wallet and do a quick swipe, cash in on your euphoria and conquer your love there and then! Except you reach for your pocket and your wallet is nowhere to be found. You haven't got your handbag with you and haven't need to carry it for the longest while. You just remembered you haven't got money or credit...

Yes, that is me.

Fashion books have a way of capturing my imagination and excitment. So have fabrics and vintage fashion.

These days, I avoid looking at things too carefully as I wander through the malls. You see, I have a great imagination and draw inspiration to design a fashion piece faster (or a million times faster!) than I close a sale.

Ironically, they have always been a motivation to my desire to make shitloads of money. Well, simply because I could never afford to design and put together my fashion collection without a good amount of capital.

So today, DL and I had a day off (for the first time in yonks plus on a weekday which is a luxury] and were in a great mood. Our compliance meeting in the morning turned out great so we temporarily suspended our anxiety for our business and the day turned into a positive day.

We went to the mall. As usual, DL headed straight to Borders to check out car magazines and cookbooks. My first stop was to Spotlight. I have a habit of heading straight for the fabric section as I trawled through bales and bales of fabric, my hand running softly past them to feel their texture, followed by lace and trimmings. DL had asked me to take his wallet with me just in case I might chance upon something (which is very often) that I want to buy. I made the wiser decision of declining and promised him that I am just looking. Thankfully, nothing caught my eye.

Next stop, I headed for Dymocks Book Store. As a creature of habit, I would dive straight into the aisle that reads "Fashion". I squatted by the aisle (since "my" books were found at the bottom shelf) like a squatter and had an eye and mind feast on a myriad of fashion books covering illustration, design, patterns, inspiration, photography and sustainability.

I felt my pulse racing, my heart drumming and a thousand thoughts, words and ideas flashing past my head. I found my playground once again. I actually felt alive.

There began my compulsion, except I haven't got any money on me. I couldn't get my fix.

*****

A couple of weeks ago, DL and I were wandering in another Factory Outlet designer mall. We had an early day and by afternoon, had some time to kill.

In our blue collar workwear, I wandered into my favourite shop-Alannah Hill. I couldn't take my eyes and hands off the softness of rabbit fur handbags,racks of hand beaded dresses and shrugs, silk blouses, angora knits and bejewelled belts.As you know, I am a sucker for hand sewn embellishments (as often found in my own designs), natural and luxe fabris and real fur (which puts me in a dilemma with my humanitarian aspirations and Buddhist beliefs. Vintage, yes wearing vintage real fur is my current solution until I can find a better one!).Again, I felt that lump in my throat, quickened heartbeat and the need to conquer the world (and the entire shop there and then).

Naturally, no one served a dag like me. I wasn't in a mood to try anything on either-no money, feeling fat and daggy and no occasion to wear. So I was able to part exercise some self control thanks to my NOT dressing for the right occasion and hence NOT feeling like I should conquer the world in such a state.

Truth is even with these bargain past season collection, assuming all my desired items fit me to a tee and I must absolutely have each and everyone of them (which I will not compromise), I would probably still need to bomb at least two grand in that shop. Two grand, at the moment is something I haven't got.

I left the store still continue feeling the stirrings of excitement and strangely, I haven't quite felt like this about clothes for as long as I could remember. For more than a week, that feeling didn't leave me (I still feel its stirrings now)or wean off. I found a re-newed passion and motivation once more- I will close that sale, make some money, treat myself to a few items, fly home for my best friend's wedding and be back on the social scene wearing fabulous clothes as I have always been. I belong there.

For a long time with the problems in our lives, I have stopped dreaming, stopped having passion (in all aspects) and stopped thinking.

Time to get back in action.

It's a nice feeling, to feel excitement and anticipation that I am currently experiencing. That feeling so precariously balanced with caution for over optimism to remind me that the supposedly no brainer sale that I should have closed last week could (and seems) most likely to go under the table yet again. Another reminder that many things are not beyond my control.

Anyways, enough of sinking to dark, cloudy thoughts!

I want to hold on to this exciting feeling for the moment.

Time to head back to the drawing room and sketch. Ciao!:)

2010-07-09T22:09:00.008+10:00

Why Flasher? Why?

There has been a dearth of good erotic or sexcapade blogs to read in the past year or so.

By good, I mean the style of writing that cleverly translate those physical experiences to coherant prose.

Last night, I met the new acquaintance of a fellow blogger whose style of writing interest my following.

May I dare say, it is rare as hens' teeth these days.

Through the links on his blog site, I meandered through other erotic blogs that seem to hold little of my interest.

Why is that, you might ask.

For every three clicks I made to satiate my curiosity reading about real life bedroom action and gravitas of the common human population, my eyes stubbled upon booby mine traps of pornography. Bam! I find myself being visually assaulted by a pair of tits or a pussy or some form of body parts staring back at me on my computer screen.

I cringed each time and instinctively, I clicked backwards to obliterate the crude images that has just been dropped on me.

All pictures and few words written in broken sentences or worst still, broken English.

What happen to good, old prose?

Give me either the crude, graphic descriptions or the poetic arrangement of words. I happen to fall into that category of readership. I am looking for words that can do poetic justice to the actions of our baser instincts. Spare me the graphic images of the often not-too-appealing body parts that shall I dare say, can appear quite repulsive on my screen. The images continue to haunt me like a bad dream, like I have just been subjected to a flasher.

Oi, cover up! PLEASE cover up! Unless you are some super model or you have photoshop the images to give it an even skin tone, please just cover up!

You see, my critical eye hate the imperfections of the physical body. Best to leave something to the imagination.

I fear for yet another "disappointing" entrance into yet another dark electronic alleyway with every click of the mouse when a particular title tickles my fancy.

My new blogger acquaintaince reckon that often the psychology of these people doing what they do (i.e. nude and sexual photographic display of themselves) are to gain attention for themselves (which I have no doubt about that). And he reckons these people are very often not really as attractive in real life (which is open to contention) and are fishing for adulation from the equally desperate or lecherous online voyeurs.

Whatever it is, I am hoping to find some good poetic prose in the likes of the now- defunct singleserves blogsite by Sash once again. It is like I could see, smell or taste her pussy already without having to actually have experience it. Now therein lies the craft of the talented wordsmith.

And for the tit spillers, pussy juicers and ding dong hairy dicks, please at least write complete sentences and come up with some punchy tag line to suggest why your picture tells a thousand words about you or your sexiness (which is often the underlying reason for those body flashes).

Make it titillating, not crude!

OK, that's my take and you might beg to differ.

So now people, in order to spare my eyes from falling victim to yet another unsuspecting pornographic blogsite that touts itself as some erotic blogger/ writer, any suggestions of good erotic prose by Singaporean bloggers that my mind can finally and really feast on?:D

2010-07-08T21:23:00.004+10:00

The Swinging Bachelorette's Soul

I remembered being most in my element when I was single for that brief one year period in 2008.

Truth is, I enjoy being the swinging bachelorette.

The attention of various men of all shapes, colours, sizes and age.

That varied experience.

When in Paris, I used to use the word "collection" a lot since I was always sketching design collections. But Pato, my Chilean friend pointed out that I had a way of calling flings, love affairs and romantic encounters "my collection", like they were objects that I fancy collecting.

****

The Old Boy once said that I was so polygamous.

Funny,it should come from him.

The most polygamous of men.

We met under such context since we held the thieves of honour.

One of those very initial time we had our joint moments in the confines of a budget hotel, I recalled us laughing and talking about how one of his fucks rang him whilst his wife was in the car.

He paused and then looked at me in a considered way and said, "Funny how we can still hold a conversation like this after we have slept..."

We were in love then. I reckon for that brief summer I was back.

I had fun and meant for our affair to be laissez faire.

I had others and wasn't looking for exclusivity. Or rather, I purposely rejected the notion.

But I loved him best.

"What's in it for you, P? After all, he is married."

His cousin's young girlfriend asked.

"The certainty of no future." I answered.

I love the absoluteness of certain things. This was one of those things.

My pet phrase used to be "Can you handle it?"

*****

Some days, I wished our honey mooney affair could have lasted longer.

The sex was great, we had fun and I enjoyed his pamperings.

I didn't know I was capable of "betraying" him since I thought we were non-exclusive.

I have slept with his nemesis, Koran. I wasn't aware I couldn't sleep with anyone I liked.

After all, my status was "single".

I didn't know a polygamous person can be inclined to jealousy.

*****

Nano once said that he found me a non jealous girl, which is rare. All his girlfriends were and he once was too. Rightly so with the girls. After all, they would have snared themselves a gold mine (or rather two). Literally.

Surely, you'll settle down when you get married? he asked.

He was hopeful.

Maybe we could get married one day if things didn't work out with DL and you, he used to say.

That would have been awesome since we both love making money and reading books.

He had the chance when DL and I did break up but he appeared aloof and I didn't want to raise my expectations. Besides, I was cosying up to the Old Boy. I cancelled my flight to Manila.

Nano found out later and was became very quiet.

Afterwards, he was constantly on getting hooked to Chinese girls.

"Don't know what Chinese powers you have P but damn I am only attracted to Chinese girls now..."

Ironically, he once said he regretted not spending more time together with me when he met up with me in Sydney.

A year or so later, he was still reminiscing about our intimate moments and wished he had impregnanted me. "We would be married by now, wouldn't we?"

Funny, I thought it's a girl's tactic to make a man stay.

I quite fancy a cute Eurasian baby. Heh!

*****

The number of partners in crime have fast dwindled. As we know, my 2 best girlfriends are firmly attached, married and as one has put it, "She has just baked her muffin."

As for my male friends, most of them too are settled. Even they can't keep up with my partying and drinking. Harry, one of my best party mates and kiss and tell friend who once told me about man's seeding mentality is so gone and married. We used to have so much fun telling each other about our conquests and fun since he treated me as a male in female appearance. Coolios, Josie and a few other male friends said the same too. I have the advantage of a feminie look but the mind of an alpha male.

Dancer, whom I know since I was twelve is the only married guy friend who can't stop searching for love, intimacy and connection. After all, he has always been a dreamer and a love fool. Actually, the Old Boy have similar traits like him. A low pragmatic trait it seems for any aspiring cassanova.

Only DL can stand me, I was told.

*****

So I have been busted a couple of times by DL.

Disappointed, angry and resentful he has been.

He once warned me during one of those seemingly casual conversation with heavy undercurrents that one of the things he learnt in army was that whatever you do, don't get caught.

Each time, he took me back.

DL is one of those one woman man. He has a massive distaste for people who double or multiple time. He sees that as a sign of a person who doesn't know what they want.

I, on the other hand, have no fear of consequences.

As DL has always put it, I am "in my own world" and a individualist with no regard for others.

Besides, the discomfort experienced from any aftermath or consequences are impermanent, I tell myself.

Time will heal everything, obliterate histories and dim memories.

*****

Like any errant ship, one must finally dock at a harbour.

What I love most the familiar presence of his childlike ness.

When the world gets tough, I come home to a household of abundenance and love.

DL and Fluffball ever waiting with such warmness.

I love our childish jokes, our joint obsession with our daughter in the form of a fluffy rescued dog and how we intuitively read each other's minds in our daily lives.

At the end of the day, we have toughed it out and white-knuckle a tumultuous relationship that everyone thought will only head into doomsday.

We have both subjected each other to tests that most people could not have last within a year of the relationship.

Bitter sweet, love hate our relationship have always been.

We used to fuck like rabbits. Those days of magic as we know are long gone.

It's been almost ten years since DL's morals was first challenged when he met a vixen like me, left his girlfriend of six years. But still, he never left an errant girl like me.

I hope in time, we would re-kindle the old flame, do random road trips and shagged spontaneously like careless, sexed up school kids in the car by the roadside like we did many moons ago.

After all, I have the mindset of a swinging bachelorette.

All the honey of matrimony but none of the sting.

I must have my cake and eat it.

2010-07-08T19:57:00.004+10:00

What's new, p?

The days of weekly massage and spa sessions are so over.

Ironically given the nature of one of my back breaking businesses, I am truly in NEED of one.

As some of you avid readers note, the current life of P is one hell of a financial struggle.

Today, I spent my time wheeling and dealing with brokers and prospects to squeeze one deal across. It would be my very first deal if it goes through since I have started my business. I will know soon enough, hopefully by tomorrow. I was working on two sales but looks like there is no way to get the other across at this stage unless the dodgy wizards are happy to pull out more tricks from their sleeves.

In between doing menial tasks to survive, I spent most of my thoughts squeezing for more ideas to seal the deal. My last appointment this evening was spent coming up with yet more ideas and solutions to help people of the most unlikely kind get across the line. Then voila, a shimmer of brillance and we found some possibilities. Now I just need to keep these people in line and on track.

Between different appointments, I switched from power suits to blue collar maid wear.

Sorry, in case you think I am still into my role playing fun, this IS my current life. I am not wearing a sexy maid outfit if you are still wondering...;)

So I have been swimming against the tide for the longest I can remember.

But I always have, hadn't I? Those years of doing the mission impossible as a headhunter pulling a stunt here and doing a trick there in what my peers have said as ridiculous deadlines. Get in, get out swiftly, collect all the info and let the bigwigs do the kill.

I would have made a bloody good headhunter if I had returned to Singapore for good, given my mapping abilities as well as regaining my mojo and being back on the social scene.

I reckon that is where I had trained my perserverence. Survival of the fittest.

Funny, I should have died ages ago with my current business and again little miracles seemed to manifest at the last minute to save my day. Only but temporarily. Like someone up there is one hell of a sadist, meaning for to suffer a slow death. Or is it to test the toughness of my character?

I call them the little miracles of life. I know, I know. I almost sound like a Christian who preached about miracles... heh!

So DL and I were going about doing our menial tasks to make $400 for ourselves yesterday. Have you thought about how Someone Up There seems to be slowly helping us and answering our (or rather, my) prayers? I asked.

No, he said. Whatever we achieved, we did it ourselves because we were strong and we perservere. He was angry as usual and started becoming blasphemous but what sort of a fucked up God He/ She must be to put us through all this hardship. So we had our debate about religon and what not. I get highly amused when DL gets into a fit when we argued about religon and our current state in our lives.

In between debates of light-hearted and not so light-hearted topics whilst going about our menial work, we waited for 3pm. We had a forced scheduled teleconference that awaited us to discuss the fate of our business. We have debts up to our necks at this point and DL and I have agreed that if push comes to shove, we would kiss 2 of our businesses goodbye. We will tell the fuckers that that's fine, they can have our businesses back but we would not pay them a single cent more.

Life is like poker or a set of chess. Since there were a few factors and people at play which will determine the shift of our precarious situations, I figured if one tries to play bad cop on us, I was going to set the two up against each other. Either way, no party gets a cent back from us. If they threaten legal action (which they might imagine will scare the shits out of us since the impression given was that both DL and I have outlived the financial hospitality of our Daddy Os and there is no way we will get any funding), I will tell them to go for it and see them in court.

Fight or flight. We figured we will fight since there are only 2 choices in any confrontational situation.

Surprisingly, the teleconference agenda was straightforward or sounded like a gift from heaven. The news was delivered that the fuckers will bail us out this time with the new marketing campaign fees instead of pressing us to pay up.They have decided to cut us some slack. But again, I am not surprised.

The story back at headquarters is beginning to sound like the Romance of Three Kingdoms. Warfares and civil uprisings against the bigwigs. To quell tension and to boost morale, the second in hierarchy had to fork out the money for their underlings like us. Anymore objections is going to tip the precarious balance of power in the business and obviously the brand reputation. So I gladly accepted and resumed my "grateful" tone on the phone.

I happen to be very good at rolling my eyes and speaking and smiling at the same time over the phone :D

I have better things to concern myself with.

Fucking sell. Get the deals to be signed and sealed.

Start re-couping some of the $300,000 we have expended. Clear the credit card debts.

Get home by September and do my social rounds in Manila if I can afford both time and money.

Check out my dad's new investments. I have set my interest on his new piece of land somewhere in Southeast Asia planning to be developed into a spa resort.

Massages and spas are my thing.

My supposed failure in my current business has thwarted any confidence my folks had in me and I need to claw back in time to get a chance at working with my old man.

Lately, I have been thinking why I even got myself into this business. Not that I regret but in hindsight, I could have done better research or networking with the brokers and bank managers before I invested in it. After all, most of my sales will need to be funded by the banks as most Australians are poor savers.

Therein lies my problem and DL's since we never borrow on anything. We are the typical Chinese businesspeople. Things need to be paid in cold hard cash. My credit card debts from my marketing bills are enough to drive me nuts, let alone more. Bad debts, I call them. I reckon the only good debt in my opinion is buying property.

Go back to basics P, I hear that voice in my head once more.

Stick to what I always believed in. The 4 main businesses that one should dabble in any day and age, with or without technology. Land/ Property, Food, Funeral services and Gaming. It covers the full spectrum of life.

I have also suggested to DL we should perhaps put aside some capital to do some personal lending (or rather loan sharking) if we continue our current business in Sad Town since this has been one hell of a reason for the obstacles of our business that have led us to our current cash flow problems. Our business is a snowballing numbers game and need to generate sales fast lest we get caught up by all that marketing expenses. So I said to him to think about it because this might well be the way. Once the cherry is right for the picking and we have enough sales, we got to sell the business fast, just as my dad had advised me to give it three years.

Food is in the pipeline for next June. We have been approached by an old friend from university who is doing real well in his restaurant. We'll see. 15% share seems a bit too paltry for our big appetites, mainly since I am such a control freak when it comes to front of house operations and DL is a wonderful chef. Plus we don't plan to be THE system which in such arrangements, we will inevitably be. But we'll see if there is any chance to cough up more on our end or to come out and do our own.

Make some real money first, P or all plans remain as dreams!

*****

In other works, though the life of P has been one hell of a swim against the highest tight, the bedroom action has been jack.

Drought season, I am experiencing.

I reckon I haven't had sex for 6 months now.

I have stopped counting and stopped having any form of desire.

Life feels like one straight line for the longest time I could remember.

I had a flip through my old blog entries and realised that since the end of 2008, I have stopped writing action packed raunchy entries filled with erotic tales of my sexcapades with flings and lovers.

My entries have lost its eloquence, just like my character. Feels like a prig-heheheh...

Is this going to be the story of P's grown up life from hereon?

I feel like I have hung up my sails for good. Domestic bliss or not- the life of a dull monogamist.

(Oh I just remember I have that outstanding story about my meeting with The Man to be written. More in good time...;) )

2010-07-03T00:49:00.003+10:00

Missing Puzzles

The puzzles are slowly forming a picture of the family tree.

Have you wondered about your own family history?

I haven't.

I guess because I was told at a young age by my parents that they have never seen their grandparents. So my family lineage or history pretty much stopped at my grandparents.

Our family history seemed straightforward enough. Both sides of my grandparents came from various parts of Southern China and settled in Singapore at some point in their lives. They all came from humble beginnings, no exotic stories to tell. Plain vanilla, typical stories of the Chinese migrant into Singapore variety. My paternal grandfather is a shoemaker and my maternal grandfather is a barber. That much I know. I never converse much to my father's parents since I couldn't speak Cantonese when I was a child and my mum told us that our grandparents favour our male cousins who lived with them over us girls. Perhaps, Mum didn't want us to have much to do with my dad's side of the family. Not that I really care. On the other hand, I love my maternal grandparents, especially my grandmother. She was my very first love, I dare say. I didn't love anyone but her since she looked after me and lived with us until I was eight when she passed away. I was so very attached to her and she and only she could allay my gigantic insecurities as a child. Her presence was my only comfort. I knew she was going to die the day before she did. It was a strong premonition for a child. I cried on Friday and she was gone the next day.

*****

But as some of you are aware, I am fond of finding out about another person's history.

As usual, I was browsing and chanced upon someone's family history.

Some old black and white photos of the colonial era. It was in its heydays.

I got a piece into that someone's life, background and even further before that someone's existence, the history of the family of a forgotten era.

Curiouser, curiouser. Like an onion, I am peeling the skin layer by layer, a little closer to the core. I am getting a little piece of that someone, like there is much more to know, much more to discover. A step closer. Yet another tug at my heart.

The point is what's the point?

None, except to satiate my curiosity to gain an insight into the life of that someone I once shared a brief moment with. An insight into his life before me and really to stretch it much further, a time before he too existed.

I am a nostalgic and sentimental person. Black and white photos have a way of invoking my emotions.

But I am rarely in love, except with the notion of being in love.

However, I think I have been in love with this one.

Getting glimpses of images of those yesteryears touch my heart. I am heartened to have chanced upon it. I feel a little closer to this beloved stranger although I haven't known him for a long time. Water under the bridge.

Separate way, separate lives we have since lived. I have long come to terms. I don't know if I am expressing myself correctly- I think our situation is the is. There are no two ways to how our lives could have unfolded in any case- romantiscing has never been my forte.

Like a curious bystander, I am wont to linger and keep vigilant.

I like to know what he doesn't know, which is I am still there in thoughts and spirit.

My ego was prone to make a point and have the last say. The need to has long been surrendered. The truth from one's heart has a poignant way of silencing one's outward eloquence.

Like one who has become engaged to life from trauma, my persona is never quite the same again.

Heartfelt. I feel like I have just learnt a new word.

2010-06-27T10:59:00.005+10:00

Surprises & being Grown Up

I have been getting one surprises after another since last week.

Or maybe I am just not in touch with the world.

My two best friends took turns on 2 consecutive days to drop me some big news.

First I received a facebook message by V to announce she is getting married to the German. The month is this September. OMG! I thought to myself. Just last week, I was just telling DL that I am not surprised if her boyfriend proposes this year. I better make some sales so that I could be back for my best friend's wedding or hens' night or whatever. Party like the old days...

It seems like just yesterday, two and the half years to be precise that we were out partying on Christmas Eve. V, Oscar and me and there we met the German. It was also this part of our hip lives where we were both single at the same time and catching up on fun times. The same holiday where I got involved with The Old Boy, Koran and the Norwegian... how time flies and still the memories remain somewhat fresh, I still think of the same person when I go to bed at night... have it already been 2.5 years?

Even Oscar, I think he is attached now...

****

So I logged onto my Facebook the next day and on my newsfeed or whatever you call that, that Dr. Jekyll & Hyde is engaged to his girlfriend... so that was 3.5 years ago the previous summer before that summer that V and I met the German, Norwegian and hung out with Oscar. It was the summer where I was still screwed up emotionally and playing the fool in my relationship with DL. V had problems with her ex-fiance and we were out at Velvet Underground with Didi who became V's next boyfriend after. It was a night of fun- bummed into E, my old friend Harry and met that Dr. Jekyll and Hyde through good old Harry. It was a night of frivolity. V and I each had (more than) a little flirtation with Harry's friends. Dr. J & H for me and a guy by the name of Chimmy for V. A night of fun...

So it's been 3.5 years ago eh?

Harry is married now to the new girl he met just the week we bummed into each other at Velvet and whom he couldn't stop talking to me about.

I heard Chimmy got married too.

Dr. J&H and V must have gotten proposed to and by (respectively) on the same day.

Now we must all be getting grown up.

*****

The very same day I saw Dr. J&H's engagement on Facebook which is the very next day V wrote me about her engagement, I got a strange text on my phone.

"Just baked my muffin. 3.16kg. c-section"

The number was from Singapore. It looked familiar but it slipped my mind who. I have been using DL's phone for awhile and hadn't transferred my contact numbers from one phone to the other.

I read the message in the car in a haste trying to rush to an appointment and whilst multi-tasking a few different things.

I replied, "Younger sibling?"

The reply came much later. "B".

"Yo what have you been up to?" I asked.

"I have just given birth to a bb ger."

"What?!"

I was dumbfounded. I mean I really was.

I was just about to ask when she is ever going to be pregnant.

And to find that the baby has popped just dumbfounded me!

I mean, she is my best friend. I thought I am supposed to know such things.

But then again, it's B. Always delivering any news in her typical nonchalant way, like's nothing is ever a big deal.

She had texted me a number of times regarding her lack of motivation to work. The last I heard from her was on my birthday where she texted me.

I couldn't drive straight from my meeting back.

I was disappointed, I didn't know and happy that she has a baby.

It was a strange feeling. So many surprising news in a span of 12 hours.

I started thinking as I drove on about how it was only July last year that I left home for Australia. We had a bit of a misunderstanding and she avoided me for a good 3 months before my instincts told me something was wrong-it wasn't her usual want-to-be-left-alone ways because she never not give me the time of the day. I am her best friend afterall.

I counted back the timing and figured she must have been pregnant by October.

It was sad I wasn't there to see her pregnant belly and to share her motherhood tales. One of my very first friends (plus my best friend) to become a mummy.

I thought about our fun days and how that too have become the most distant memory for god knows the longest time when B finally decided to settle down.

I felt happy for her and sad. Like I have lost a friend.

I silently wonder if it was just me that I was sad about.

It felt like I have lost touch with the world. With all my real problems in Sad Town to battle each day, I feel like I am so off the social radar. The saddest thing is it's my best friend here that I a talking about. I seem to have lost my magic touch.

After all, I miss home. I miss my friends and perhaps most of all, I miss having fun and feeling young. Maybe I am just afraid of growing old with no best friends to be partners in crime as we were wont to do whilst trying to conquer the world. Or was it to flaunt our youth?

*****

Putting my own ego or insecurity aside, I decided to adopt a positive attitude. Or rather, it was naturally replaced by an feeling of fuzziness. V and B are my bestest friends after all. They deserve all the happiness that Fate has bestowed on them.

I wrote V an instant reply message after months of non-reply given I was stuck in my own strife amidst all the crisises of my personal life.

I am happy for her. I told her I will try my best to be back and do a hens' night or something.

I reckon how can we glamourettes not kiss our bachelorettehood goodbye without its usual fanfare when we once strut our stuff at social settings like proud peacocks?

Hell, life should be one GREAT party after the next. But this is THE party to celebrate the next phase in one's life.

I am beginning to understand that phrase myself when a male cousin my age married his college sweetheart at around 25 years old. I asked him why and he said because they were ready for the next stage of their lives.

Most importantly, one of my Cassanova male friend that has been a good friend since I was 6 told me that when his Japanese wife proposed to him when she was 21 and he was 25, he said yes. Because it felt right. Even now, it is still right for them, 6 years on.

V wrote back to say she is ready to have babies. Puts a smile on my face.

I must have heard this a number of times this year from close friends. Right at this point, i know at least three people who are pregnant.

It must be coming of age.

I am a silly nostalgic person. Like a child who is determined never to grow up, I hold vivid memories of my misadventures and fun from those yesteryears that are only about 1000 days ago.

Still, in a 1000 days, many things can happen or not happen. Like the birth of a child. The celebration of life and death. The blossom or parting of romance.

Lately, I have been having what I call, unexpected dreams. Dreams of boys from my past. M is one and strangely, Mr. London this morning. No, I haven't been thinking of any of them.

I am afraid to dwell in the past of strong feelings. I thought I have exorcised the ghosts of my past, or rather my mind.

I am less emotional these days and have come to terms with what I want. A peaceful and happy life. Still working on it, constantly working on it.

Surprises.... are they really surprises? Or is it just a rite of passage in one's life?

Secretly, I wonder if I am ready to grow up too.

One day perhaps, one day.

Last year whilst Janine and I were shopping leisurely back home with her baby in tow, I asked her how she managed to cope. Janine and I used to share some fun, crazy days back here in Sad Town when we were poor students. Our social lives had crossed paths in Singapore back in the days. She was a player herself. She got married, planned to have a baby in 2 years after their honey mooney period but fell pregnant unexpectedly. She has undertook the role of mum and housewife so successfully, having been someone who has always been a strong corporate fighter. She told me, "One can never really be ready..."

I guess when one's thrown into the deep end of the pool, one learns to swim or sink.

Janine sure know what she is talking about. At age three, she fell into the pool and miraculously started swimming backstrokes and went on to be a national backstroker and one of her kind in the female division for a long time....

( more stories to come about my growing up!;))

2010-06-21T23:03:00.002+10:00

Friday and the day of Ms

So last Friday was an interesting day for I received a number of unexpected sms. One from The Man and some from colleagues inter-state.

I also had a trying week with DL and in fact, we sat down solemnly and cited that since we had such irreconciliable differences, we should split up. At age 31, I think I have cried enough tears for men to know better that it's time to get on with life with or without.

I served the verdict calmly before I drove off to yet another meeting. I wasn't going to let my family life fuck up my work. Business as usual.

When I returned home, DL was obviously nowhere in sight.

I got hungry. Having spent the whole day working and arguing, I hadn't a thing in my stomach.

So I rang Teddie, my old friend from home who is doing his studies here in Sad Town to accompany me out for dinner (like the good old days where V, him and I spent my entire summer hols home having supper and bantering).

Teddie came to pick me up in his Saab. I was pleasantly distracted with company and after having Vietnamese for dinner, we went to the Hyatt bar for drinks. We talked about our coming of age and what not. Teddie is a bloody late bloomer who managed to catch up on lost time.

We continued talking and I chanced upon an interesting piece of information.

So Teddie's father is well connected back home to the old wealth society type.

What was particularly more interesting was that his dad for many a number of years used to play a certain sport at the country club with a Mr.Z. Turns out to be The Old Boy's father.

Teddie recalled that he must have been eleven or twelve when he was using the swimming pool in the complex of the condominium development of Mr. Z where he had made some good money. He remembered also that Mr. Z had two sons, both who was sent to boarding school. Teddie has met both sons of Mr. Z, the second one more often. The elder son (who happens to be The Old Boy)once when he was at the pool. The elder son was an adult in his twenties (must be around 22 to 23 since Teddie is 2 years older than me and the Old Boy 13 years older than me) and brought his girlfriend with him. The thing that stuck to Teddie's mind was that his girlfriend was not very good looking.

Funny that was more than 20 years ago. The only thing that stuck to Teddie's mind. In his young mind, he must have expected someone of his wealth to score a more attractive female.

So the Old Boy was right when he once told me he generally never go for the good looking types. I even have an unexpected witness whose memory stretched way back.

No wonder, he once said to me that he would have been flattered by my attention if he was not married.

2010-06-21T22:20:00.005+10:00

The Wrong "M"

So on Friday morning, I woke up with this super surreal dream about M.

The feeling felt so real. I was back home in Singapore and as if some of you might have remember, he has moved to Singapore to do his MBA about 6 months ago. In the dream, the old flame was rekindled and I felt this guilt as DL was too in Singapore. In the dream, I was struggling to do the right thing whilst keeping my emotions in check. I thought I was over M (I really do, in real life!) but I had to fight hard to keep the floodgates of old emotions closed.

I woke up feeling affected, like the residual of emotions from yesterday are still there. My dream felt like the re-surfacing of my sub-sconscious. I felt uncertain, like I am not so sure of myself or feelings anymore...

*****

Friday is always a busy day of the week for DL and myself. We went about our business as usual and found ourselves getting into very argumentative fights.

We have been violently quarrelsome of late. We were reaching boiling point.

But that is another story.

Anyhow, we were going about our business when I received a text message alert. I figured it was one of my sales prospects and checked my phone.

To my surprise, I got a message:

"Hey P, how are you? I will be cruising the South Coast and might stop by Sad Town for night. Let me know if you are free to catch up over dinner and drinks either on Sun or Mon. The Man"

That was totally unexpected.

The last I heard from him was about a year before.He tried to get in touch on 2 occasions when he was in Sydney. I thought with the fiasco sms that I had accidentally sent out to him, that would have been the last I would hear from him again.

Now I was getting curious. I started wondering if he was divorced or he wanted to deliver some news to me. I mean, I wonder what he was hoping to get out from meeting me after the failed attempt a year ago. I am no longer a headhunter so I am no good to him either.

What does he want, really?

It is more than four years since we last met and even longer since the dirty was done many moons ago.

One would have thought one have moved on since we parted the night with those lines "it was fun"- his lines, not mine. For years, it never failed to stick out like a sore thumb in my memory and I was determined to erase any traces of joint experience with the said individual.

Damn! Wrong M, I thought to myself, having my day been roused to awakeness by such dreamlike fantasy with an old love I once truly was in love with, only to be greeted with the sms of another.

Anyways, as with the life of P, my past always have a way of catching up with me. Like a tale half told begging to be told. There was always a question mark lingering in the air of The Man's years of disappearance and how we missed each other last year in Sydney because I couldn't be bothered. So now, the time has arrived. I have lost my curiosity for the longest while but seems like the story of P's life is that no stones should or would be left unturned.

So I replied and said, yes, Sunday is fine for drinks (and kindly informed my other half that an old friend from Sydney is in town and would like to catch up)...

2010-06-12T19:17:00.002+10:00

I can't do the Sum

Last week, we spent 2 consecutive nights without dinner. Having averaged 12 hours or more of physical labour, most places are closed by the time we could wrap up and relax over a hearty meal before we do the same thing all over again in less than 12 hours. We haven't the energy left to cook ourselves something to eat.

This has been the story of my life, or rather our lives (DL and mine) for what seems like forever. I was told we made nearly three grand last week. But we seem to have much more to pay than we could save. We even have to save on heating and guess what? It has been sub zero for the past few nights.

So through kind friends and the business people in the community we know off, referrals of dodgy or rather resourceful finance brokers have been given to us in the bid to help us close our sales and flip our financial fates over. But it seems like the close knitted Chinese community are just skeptical of the other racial groups and seem reluctant to undertake the risk. Even my attempts at alluding to bribery once the deal is done and dusted does not seem to attract these people who could help change my financial fate. I mean, read this: my fortunes would be recovered overnight literally. And my wealth can snowball once again with more money to run those advertising campaigns once again.

I have at least 5 people who are dependent for me to change their lives, which in turn changes mine. I am even getting daunted. Before long, my wave of debts will engulf me and I am literally fucked. As if my life, or rather ours is not fucked up enough.

Doesn't help that our things are falling apart like our newish laptops and heaven forbid, our old car. Some days it feels harder to live like this than others. And there are more resentful days DL and I have of our lives and of each other. But then there are some sweet moments we are able to take a piss at our situations, steal kisses whilst we go about doing our chores to meet our bill's expenses for the day.

Yeah, so life is really tough at the moment. I hope we stay strong long enough to meet the light at the end of the tunnel.

Ironically, when I was growing up, one of my Disney favourite song sung by Annette Funicello is "I can't do the sum".

I find myself singing the song a lot during my long hot showers.

" Bills, bills, bills.

The price of milk and egg and bread is rising everyday.
Now with our bank book in the red, these bills are hard to pay.
If we stop buying chocolate cake and live on green string beans,
exactly how much would it take to live within our means?"

Oh, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh,oh, oh, ohh...

Put down beans and cross out cake, let me see
Oh dear me
What a chore to undertake
milk plus bread
Oh my head
And subtract then multiply
till you're overcome.
This is much too hard for me
I can't do the sum."

2010-05-30T21:38:00.002+10:00

Grown Up

For the first time in two days, I became acquainted with the idea that I am actually a grown up. I mean, it felt to me like a slap on the head to wake up.

I suddenly felt quite awake from that.

My first of encounters began with people asking me about my "hubby" or wanting me to send their regards to my "hubby", namely DL. Of late, I have been getting a lot of that. I have been assumed to be married or rather, hold the status of a married person (god, I cringe at the thought of being a "woman").

I reckon running a very expensive business must make people think of me as a grown up, plus doing it with my partner/ boyfriend. Such a legally binding and expensive venture must make one assume that we have (dead knot)tied the nuptial knot.

Then I have been asked if I have children. Hell no, I would normally reply.

You see, I have (life)long held the view that being married and having kids are in the league of grown ups. I, "Young P" am not one.

Suddenly, it feels like self denial.

Except, it isn't. I don't feel grown up. My bank account will attest to that- I must have had much more when I was thirteen. I am not ready to grow up, much as the numbers are stacking up like a naggy grandmother. Bugger!

So last night, I was at an event where we sponsored a prize through our business to support a charity. I caught up with an old uni friend, Gemma who is also Singaporean. She confessed to me that she is really quite conscious about her age and not being married.

Why? I asked.

She has a great career, bought herself a nice apartment close to town, still looks young and have tons of social activities to keep her occupied.

That was precisely why, she said. Now isn't it time to take the next step?

I beg to differ, I said. I reckon I would want to be in good old Gemma's position anytime. My next step would be myself and exploring and trying to do all the things I couldn't do from my lack of financial resources in my youth. Life is too short to settle (down).

Last night, I wore a black art-deco style dress that DL bought me on my 23rd birthday, topped with a white faux fur 3/4 length sleeved bolero jacket. I found myself staring at the image of a thirty something lady in the mirror at the ladies' room.

It shocked me.

We rubbed shoulders with diplomats from our home country. They thanked us for sponsoring a prize for the event. As usual, they asked how long we have been in Ozland for. Eleven years for me and twelve for DL, we replied. They asked if we did our bachelor degree in Australia-yes we replied. Two of them made quick calculations of our ages and particularly one pig-faced fella eyed us suspiciously (as we exchanged business cards) and asked what we used to do prior to having this business. Meaning how did we manage to possibly accumulate such great wealth to own a business (albeit in dire straits unbeknownst to them) like that. Typical Singaporean- always measuring!

For once (phew!), those people must have thought we were a bit young for have achieved (or rather screwed up) like this!

I did feel somewhat old- me going up the stage to draw a prize for the lucky winner, being someone "in the business community" who have contributed. Imagine that! Like a VIP. Couldn't feel anymore grown up!

Especially when the bank account is constantly being depleted and the skin is fast youth-depleting, I never feel much more in need of magic age defying face creams now than ever before! I used too much of the good stuff in my youth when I should be doing that instead. My oh my, what a terrible place to be- regressing!

Oh, one last grown up tip for ladies out there, my take for the best youth elixir cream is from Sisley. Use the entire skincare and make up range if you could reach deep into your pockets!

Or snare a sugar daddy to buy you some before you look too old to get one!;)

I sure am saving my last pennies to look anything but grown up! Imagine that in less than 10 years, I hit the big 4-ty (or is it faulty???!!!!)!

2010-05-26T20:11:00.003+10:00

Script

Some people are very good at sticking to their scripts. I mean their life scripts, like script of how they envision their adult lives to be.

Fifi, an old schoolmate of mine is a prime example. When we last caught up, she is this high maintenaince tai tai who drove me around in black BMW 6-series convertible. She married well to a high profile investment banker. She is now a lady of leisure.

Even so, prior to that, she was one of my best paid friend out of university, averaging $10k a month as a private banker right from the start. So there, she made it where she had always wanted to be.

What about yours truly?

I don't know. I kindda know where I wanna go but the journey there has always been murky.

As you see, I am prone to change courses at mid stream. First, I use my head to choose a seemingly foolproof path, then I get bored and unhappy and then I quit.

So I keep changing and must have lived a few lives over.

Again, my choice of men also comes into question.

Much as I always hope to snare a high flying corporate eagle, I find myself less inclinded to stick to the script of being with one. Not quite my type, I think. An attractive proposition as a lover or maybe even a sugar daddy and I can think of anything else I would want to do with men like that... can't see myself as a compliant home maker and organiser of parties in a first wives' club scenario. Well, I can see the part of myself organising a party but engaging in petty tittle tattle with other wives' is not my cup of tea. I think I might be too outspoken or might prove to be a shocker with my words.

But then again, who is really my type?

Ironically, I am very good at memorising scripts. Perhaps just not too good at acting them out.

2010-05-26T20:06:00.003+10:00

Before and Now

Finding out that friends have moved on, got married, fallen pregnant, bought an expensive sportscar in the Maserati league and much, much more makes me feel like I have lagged far behind.

Whilst the quality of people's lives seem to improve, mine seems to be deteriorating.

Fuck, I am 31-truly an adult, no matter how young at heart I feel.

I am in Queensland at the moment- as always, an involuntary effort to be here. I face my nemesis tomorrow.

Not feeling the best at the moment- I suspect it is a case of status anxiety I am suffering.

I am getting a headache.

2010-05-20T21:41:00.002+10:00

Suspension

I am temporarily putting my anxiety on hold.

That's what I feel like doing at the moment.

Reading blogs of ex-classmates who are getting famous in fashion just sends this warm, fuzzy feeling within me that sends my anxiety (from my current less than optimal life) to oblivion.

I feel that surge of excitement bubbling over as I try to contain my addrenalin rush. For some reason, it almost feel like I am living that life. Or rather, I feel I am capable of achieving that life in this lifetime.

About a week ago, I came up with yet another new sustainable and functional fashion creation. I found some scraped material at daisy's house. I drew and cut the pattern and Daisy sewn it up. Voila, I turned it into functional wear.

I took that inspiration further and experimented my idea that has appeared to work. I have been containing my excitement for the past few days, twigging at my sample and looking out for more of Daisy's scraped materials. I should really patent it.

Yeah, so once again creativity saves my day- right now I try to stay precariously in that happy place, holding my excitement close to my chest.

2010-05-13T10:47:00.002+10:00

Holding my breath...

that's what we have been doing for the past one week.

A week ago exactly, I nearly lost my main business.

My gut feeling told me something wasn't right in the manner of the person who made the decision. I wasn't sure what it was. I had to think hard.

Think P, think harder...

I said a little prayer to someone up there.

This couldn't be it.

That fucker wasn't doing the right thing by us. Take our business away and still insist that we pay up.

Pay up? DL and I asked. If we had the money, would we still have to lose the business. It doesn't make sense, I retorted.

We stood our ground.

Fucker had no choice and said he would get back to us.

That night, fucker's tone changed and suddenly said he was going to "help" us.

Voila-it was within his powers but fucker just didn't want to dig into his own pocket first-there was be some contractual agreement between him and the bigwig that he had the obligation.

Anyways, we saved the day or rather our own business.

More trouble brewing in fucker's way.

Someone found a loophole in a contract- seems like we might not have the obligation to pay up the said amount.

That someone is taking fucker up legally for a few other reasons that spiralled out of control from this invoice.

So DL and I continue to hold our breaths.

We hope that someone wins because the impliocations for the rest of us will be huge in a favour.

I am waiting and waiting....

Wish us luck and justice!

We need tons of it...

2010-04-25T03:21:00.002+10:00

Giving up

on life is how I feel like at the moment.

Why can't I lead a normal life?

I get the sense that I have more trials and tribulations in my life enough to last some in a lifetime.

At age 31, I seriously feel like my life is over.

Game over. Literally.

I am tired.

You can do it, Della said. Because you are a strong person.

But I don't want to be a strong person, I told her.

I just want a normal life.

Like a fucking peaceful one not fraud with financial crisises or emotional crises most of the time.

Today, DL insisted I see a doctor, on one of my rare days off.

So we went and I had to enquire discreetly if there is enough money in his bank account for me to see one, bearing in mind it was Saturday plus the number of drugs and ointments the doctor had prescribed for me to buy at the chemist.

I am feeling sick and depressed at the moment.

Just feel like crying out loud.

This week we made around $1600. Most of the money gone to bills, bills and more bills.

So fucking over it.

Thing is I have nowhere to go or to run to.

Gotta face the issue squarely in the face.

Except the issue is money and there is only this much we can bring in at the moment.

Next week is a relatively quiet week. I have got DL to write and follow up with clients for extra services we could offer them. We need to make that budget to pay bills.

Shits me to no end.

I feel like I am losing control.

I am losing patience and I am about to give up.

I can't do this anymore.

I really can't.

Whilst the prospects wait for me to help change their lives (fuck them for not having the finances!), who's going to help turn my fortunes around?

I AM SO FUCKING OVER THEM AND MY LIFE AT THE MOMENT.

SHOW ME THE MONEY BEFORE U COME LOOK ME UP, DUMBASSES!!!!!

URRRRGHHHHH!!!!!!

2010-04-23T21:20:00.002+10:00

Life at Present

is one fucked up mess.

We are at the brink of bankruptcy.

It's time to walk away from the business-$300,000 spent.

With an impending marketing bill due in a week, we had little choice but to contact our folks on what to do.

Our folks, particularly mine said it's time to move on. Forget about it. Such is business- either you win or lose.

He wasn't going to pay for my marketing bills. He said but I would pay for your legal fees if things turn ugly.

We have been keeping afloat from working hard on our other business, doing menial work. We are knackered from 12-hour days, me having to change into professional business wear in between menial jobs to fit in presentations and follow ups.

The money we made in a day is easily what a salaried office employee might take home in a week. Except we don't get a chance to enjoy the fruits of our labour- more money to go to paying our surmounting marketing debts and credit card bills.

And now I am getting rashes all over me-not even enough money for me to see a GP here-given that there aren't many bulk billing clinics left in town. My ears are itching like mad from allergies of the chemicals I work with.

I am honestly not made for menial tasks- at age 31, I feel like I must be catching on all the years of household chores that I never did all fitted into 3 months.

Fucked up, my life is. I don't know how much worse it can get.

I never counted on my life to be so even after so much financial help to restructure my life.

And much worse, the thought of finding a job and writing a CV daunts me. I never counted on having to ask for a good reference from my old world. I thought I could seriously move on.

Loser! That's how I am feeling now.

My ears are itching and burning with discomfort, so are my fingers hurting with deep cuts from my cracked skin.

Plus Physically and mentally burnt out each day.

I feel like crying out loud.

Why don't heaven just deal me a death blow?

I am so over my life at the moment.

2010-04-22T23:41:00.002+10:00

I've been wondering...

whilst the world is going about their business, myself included, what's happening in your life?

So my blog tells half stories of my life, a journal of sorts and a kind of update about how I am (sort of) keeping to people who care or are just curious or are just passing by, I wonder where do I go to if I care to or am curious or just want to (tres)pass to find yours?

I am getting comfy just being passive.

Always wondering, stay wondering...

Like someone asking a rhetorical question.

2010-04-11T18:47:00.004+10:00

Reply Email to the Older Sibling

HI Older Sibling,

at least u still got money... we have none and is owing Boom money and there's more to come... fucking head office keep slappping us with invoices for ads thats not yielding results for us- another $3000+ due soon not to mention other things...

frankly I am quite over my life at the moment... that day,Boom like try to sia ma wei (threaten) us since he feels that we are placing more emphasis on the cleaning biz when i mention the one car issue... I wasnt scared either and told him seriously if I have to consider walking away from the regional master biz, I juz mite given the surmounting bills... think he didnt see that coming thinking I wd be scared... but really, I have nthg to lose cos already lost so much, now its freaking damage control!

I am feeling tired and quite frankly, over it... so many obstacles with the pp who can't wait to start but with no money... I feel so suay(unlucky) and it juz feels like a tunnel where I am never going to see the light and I am plodding along... DL is the same but I am trying to keep my thots to myself lest he goes on ranting abt it which he does from time to time abt how he dun believe the system wks etc etc... I am so over it...

It's funny how when one feels so exhausted, one has no fear... I dun even feel scared abt not being able to repay mum and dad... its strange... its like I cd juz give up here and now... fucking over it!

and what is also fucking bothering me at the moment is that my entire collection of fashion creations from the 1st old hse is officially missing! Juz fucking breaks my heart...we went to maximo's hse to get our stuff back, thinking it is there (last place) and it isn't!!! and I have a sinking feeling the only place my stuff cd be is at St vinnie's when I dispose of half my wadrobe but I quite remember I did check thru all my grandma bags! It really gets me on top of the other probs I have...

I so need a hol and I dun know when I cd even afford one or go home... lately I have been feeling super negative like I am so over it and I fucking care... I can't even describe to u... sigh....

anyways enuff of my ranting... I think juz do what u like esp if u can afford it-life is too short to hesitate...

honestly, whenever I re-access my options, if I had known how much mum and dad cd lent me, I shd juz hv bought that commercial property on Main st in Peace Town and collect rent, if not set up a resto... at least we wldnt be in such a fucking sorry state... sigh... ah well, no pt regretting I guess and I am not one to regret in my life, except funnily, I am beginning to regret all my life choices...

I shd juz have gone back to fashion school, learn to sew properly and do sthg that I really love!

Sorry Older Sibling for dumping on u-one I start writing it juz opens up a can of worms...

P

2010-04-07T19:39:00.002+10:00

Sad News

I was so broke today. It's not funny.

DL informs me that we haven't got enough to pay for rent plus all the bills due at the end of the week.

I found myself taking a long hot shower and thinking. Thinking.

I remember my very good friend, Goof. He is the only one in Sad Town with savings and a trusted confidante who witnessed my old life in Paris. He is the only one I can barely tear my face down and remotely asked if I could borrow some money. Bearing in mind he is due to go on a big World Cup trip in South Africa that cost him $10k and more, a new girlfriend whom he has been spending shitloads of money and an outstanding amount he had lent to Daisy who takes forever to return. I would be an unexpected financial outlay to him. Goof is a careful man who plans and budgets.

So I sent him a text. Told him I was in dire straits and I seriously don't know who to turn to so I have this massive favour to ask of him. $1200 is the sum (ironically, it used to be what it would have easily cost for my get up to look chic on my nights out).

Within seconds, he replied to my sms. Ok, when would you like it? he asked.

I started crying. I don't know why. I feel so touched and at the same time, embarrassed with myself for being in the state we are in.

I have never felt so low in my life. No matter how broke we are, we always managed to find food on the table and Fluffball always had the best. This week she ran out of her Science Diet canned food. We are too afraid to even buy the usual carton that we typically buy because every cent counts. Literally. She could only have her Royal Canin biscuits for fussy breeds mixed with My Dog gourmet food. No science diet in the mix, definitely no sashimi in her diet. She had lived better days.

"The only happy thing in our lives," DL would declare each day we get home and straight to the Fluffball he would embrace and cradle her in his arms, like a baby.

Indeed, she is the only happy little thing in our lives that gives us this warm fuzzy feeling of home and warmth.

It's hard to describe.

*****

In other news, my heart was shattered 2 days ago when I officially come to the conclusion that my entire collection of fashion creations (some 20 or more pieces of outfit) has gone missing. AWOL.

They are nowhere to be found and last seen in my last last residence and which I thought was stuffed into some old bags and left in a friend's storeroom. Only that we have finally gone to retrieve all our old stuff and not a sight of that bag to be found. Ironically, just that bag.

In such desperate times and with an upcoming opportunity in Sad Town to showcase and sell my fashion creations in a retail shop set up for handmade designers, I am in need of stock. Suddenly, parting with my ware becomes a necessity. Those old stock must be worth a couple of grand, at least.

I try not to dwell to hard because my heart is unable to undergo anymore stress tests. I am careful and mindful that I am not heading into my own state of high anxiety levels. I simply can't allow myself to.

If not, what is left of my fighting spirit?

I am tired of struggling but it seems to be the story of my life.

At age 31, my life feels like a landslide.

2010-04-06T01:49:00.002+10:00

Mistaken Identity

It is uncanny how one gets mistaken for one's namesake.

So there I was mistakenly being tagged to some photos that didn't belong to me.

We have the same name, surname and at one stage, we had exactly the same profession.

I mean exactly. We even covered the same industry in that profession.

But what never fails to amaze me is that we had even slept with the same man.

Although at a different time in our lives.

Now I wonder what has happen to him?

2010-03-31T19:51:00.002+11:00

It's been awhile...

since yours truly have the notion of dying...

or even feeling that unbearable anxiety in me rising, the heart palpitations and the tormenting heart squeezes that sent me to thoughts of suicide.

I must say, it's been a while.

But today (I think it is today or maybe yesterday or maybe the day before yesterday on my birthday- I can't remember cos my days are getting longer), I felt the slow rising of my anxiety...

It started off dully, lurking at the back of my mind. Then I felt it slowly rising in my chest.

Today, I felt like I have enough of my business. Most importantly, my cash flow problems.

I mean I am so fucking over it!

I felt that unbearable feeling coming over me in the car. I glanced sideways at DL as he drove on. We were on the way to my sales presentation.

Then it dawned on me that this must be how he has been feeling for the past 6 months or so.

I held my breath for a split second and slowly exhale, careful not to dwell too much on my at-that-moment feeling for if I did, both DL and I would go down. His morale has been low enough lately. We don't need to fan each other's misery up.

My phone has been ringing with automatic messages from the bank to pay despite having done so. My debts seemed to follow me like a curse... then there's more to come. DL went to thue letterbox and received 2 credit card bills- he informed me that the 2 cards are busted.

What's new, I thought.

Then there is the other part of me that is bubbling with excitment within me. I have got news that Sad Town is setting up a shop for independent designers to sell their handmade creations and they could lease a space as little as $20/week. I can hardly sleep thinking about it.

I told DL, Daisy and anyone who cared to hear about it.

I mean, I am truly excited!

Each time I sit at my studio, I get this sense of excitment I never experienced in my life except when I was in Paris.

I wonder what I have done to DL and me?

We could have used the $300,000 we invested in this business for a restaurant and then for my fashion creations and still have leftover.

It shits me but I am shutting my mouth up.

No point lamenting because it is going to get DL down- he has been very angry lately and I have been trying to be positive whenever he mentioned about the restaurant that we should have set up, not this lousy business that is taking a toil on us physically, mentally and emotionally. And DL is hardly the type of person who talks in the "could have, should have, would have" tenses. It sounds more like me. All I could do is to focus on the future or what we would like to make it out to be.

Or we could have paid up a fair bit of a mortgage for that one bedroom house in the dress circle location of Sad Town that was going for cheap. And I could still have taken up a humble retail job and life could still have been great.

The choices we make- now there is no way but to keep peservering on, only we are running out if cash and steam and for once, I am feeling what DL has been feeling- it's time to get out...

2010-03-30T09:31:00.002+11:00

Lowpoint

So I have officially turned 31 yesterday.

What a day! In the worst sense- I fucked up and broke a client's something from Debmark. Spent what was supposed to be my leisurely afternoon all around town to look for its replacement. Only of course, there wasn't one in the whole of Sad Town. Had to order one in.

Then there is the cash flow problems. Everyone's wanting a piece of us- so many invoices raised our way and all due this week. Freaking marketing expenses.

I have never felt worser.

I recalled my life.

I always had a birthday party thrown for the first 11 years of my life. And more birthday parties and parties after I turned 15.

My life should have been great.

The older sibling sent me the first birthday wish. Nano must have been second or third in line.

I knew the Nano would remember. But I was right that the Old Boy would have forgotten. Ah well, such is life.

Then lots more from friends around the world on facebook and smses... and there was my old friends from the Parisian days. The Lark, my all famous principal, Talla and Lina...

Lina always remembers and sends me an email each year with some updates... it's funny how some of us never quite write to each other and it becomes an yearly affair, like a summary of what has happened to our lives in the year that has just passed...

Even M remembers... in fact, M remembers my birthday all these years except I think, last year and I thought he was dropping out for good... he wrote the usual pleasantry and asked for me to inform him when I am next back home...

Lots of old high school friends wrote me too...

It's all very heartwarming given that I felt like I had the worst birthday in my life...

Getting older and poorer. That sucks.

So we didn't have much $ and having spent the whole afternoon running around town, I was exhausted and drained. I dropped on the mattress in our living room and took a short nap and dragged myself up again for my last sewing class in the semester. DL and the dog did the same beside me.

After class, it was close to 9pm. DL and I went to our local Chinese restaurant and had a meal.

That was it. No excitment or surprises this year for me.

He is really down with the money issue.

We had been broke before but maybe the adult responsibilities is just too much for us at the moment.

Back then, he even so much as squeezed out a Longines watch with the diamond dial for me. That is, from without paying the rent. Things you would do for love when you were young and bold....

We came home and he watched DVDs with the dog next to him whilst I used the laptop in the living room to chat to my folks and the younger sibling.

Then we both retire to our respective rooms where he read his before bedtime book and I read mine.

Then we fell asleep separately.

I didn't want to be reminded I am getting older and in a more sorrier state.

But ironically, I seem to be at my most popular this year, remembered by more friends than before.

Makes me miss home.

2010-03-26T18:05:00.002+11:00

Partner in Crime

I think that is what I have been looking for.

All my life.

In a life partner.

A relationship that bore out of playfulness, as with the beginning of most of my affairs and relationships.

Someone that I could have adventures and misadventures with.

Someone whom I can discuss things with, negotiate and debate.

Someone who could make me young again.

I see abit of this someone with the relationships and affairs I have been with- the fun and funny encounter with the Koran, the romantic excitment with M,the erotic hunger the Aura had of each other, the ease and silliness of my relationship with DL, the intensity felt in the love letters between J and myself and telepathic emails that the Old Boy and I once exchanged.

They all, perhaps except M first started off with friendship. I mean platonic- at least on my end, I feel.

So yeah, I reckon I was always hoping that somewhere in my life, I would chance upon my partner-in-crime. Someone whom I could laugh, be silly with, make love to ravenously and carelessly and grow old with.

Well, I reckon it would be my version of a soulmate. A modern version one that is and what I would call my partner in crime.

2010-03-25T10:02:00.003+11:00

In a Matter of One year...(Part II)

So I was telling you before (in my last post) about how I went to the United States for work in 2008. I took the opportunity to do my social rounds and one of the places I stopped was San Francisco.

San Francisco was where my friend, The Lark from back in the Paris days lived.

The Lark is a typical old moneyed southern belle from Texas. No actually, her mum was but her dad was from Chicago. One a Republican and another Democrat supporter until his dad defected over...

The Lark is a through and through hippie and a pothead and it was through her introduction that I got into the world of smoking good weed (a conoisseur and ex-cultivator/ dealer she was) in the old bohemic Parisian apartment that I rented in the 18th arrondissement.

When I visited her in San Francisco, she was about to launch her own collection. She was engaged to an equally old moneyed East Coast Dartmouth graduated Institutional Equities Broker. There was nothing much in common between them but my guess was she liked being with a safe pair of hands. That night in her prime suburban apartment on top of a hill, over weed, we caught up, laughed and cried over our lives with the familiarity of our camaraderie back in Paris like we have never left.

When we were in Paris, the Lark was a vegetarian and by the time, we met again 3 years later, she had converted back to an omnivore and changed a few boyfriends over.

Anyhow, the Lark got quite famous with her fashion label, being into the eco friendly movement. Her designs in the high end marktet. She got some good coverage in fashion magazines like Vogue and was showing off her collection in L.A. Fashion Week and in New York.

She dropped me a line on my facebook last night to come visit her in Copenhagen. I thought how very apt with all her eco friendly designs and the anti-carbon emission talks by political big wigs around the world last year, she must have moved there for some business strategic reason.

But no, she wrote to say she got married to a Dane in December (she had always promised to invite me to her wedding!!!???!!!) and a baby is due in June. Of course, it was marriage out of a wedlock and the preparations must have been hasty. The Lark is going to become a mum!

I wonder what happened to her all-American instuitional sales broker boyfriend.

Anyhow, so much can happen and just like I said. In a matter of a year, my friend, The Lark got famous, fell in love for someone new, got married and is soon to become a mum.

All in a matter of one short year.

2010-03-24T19:20:00.006+11:00

In a Matter of one year...

I notice that many things can change or eventuate.

The birth of a child is one, then a wedding anouncement, the change of one's heart or you could put on 10 kilos or you could become bankrupt. In some other cases, you become really rich and/or famous.

It is the time of the year that I become yet again aware of my own mortality. Another year of growing older- I turn 31 in less than a week.

I haven't done much thinking lately, simply because I have been way too busy. Doing twelve hour days of physical AND mental work is no joke, I come home feeling drained on a daily basis. I haven't have much of a night, let alone day off for as long as I could remember.

I must have had this blog for a good four years now. It was inspired by a certain Big Boy I once wrote about.

I remember that year quite vividly for a few reasons- it was the year M came to Singapore to visit me and we spent the new year gazing at the fireworks, and Big M came out for a drink (unbeknownst to me, he had some erotic designs on me), left disappointed and then we lost touch, only for me to track him down for work and thereafter he wrote me an email to suggest meeting me in that low cut halter neck lace dress I wore the last time we met. That was more than a year before. Then M left and B and I were out, me masking my sorrow by having a girly night out. I met the Big Boy, we kept in touch, some erotic electronic tennis we played and this blog was born...

Some of you have been following my blog for a long, long time, perhaps since the beginning of it... From 2006 till now, much have changed in my life- it has been a gradual metamorphosis of my disturbed life to something that seemed rather calm or I dare say, dull juncture that I am now in.

Today, I woke up and it dawned on me that I have known the Old Boy for a good three years now. Where was I at in my life 3 years ago, I wonder?

A string of affairs raced through my head like a strip of black and white film unrolling itself. The experiences seemed blurry, even a chore to recall, like I have let go, or rather, too ashamed to remember. My life is now, I feel.

I find myself less excitable these days. Being excitable takes too much out of me. I wonder if I could find myself in an adventurous state ever again or will life be one straight line from hereon?

Two years ago (2008), I was in Hanoi and then I went on to the United States for work. I recalled taking a short jaunt back home to Singapore. By then, the damage had already been done between the Old Boy and I. There was also the Koran on the side. Then there was my frail nerves and unbearable self that I felt trapped in. It was already two years ago, I marvel today.

One short year and what transformation there can be.

That same year of 2008, I went trekking up the Everest Base Camp. The meditation at the monastery and the trekking transformed my life beyond words I can describe. It was gradual but it changed the essence within my hitherto disturbed soul. I am less anxious, less tormented. I cope better with the world, or rather with myself.

That same year after this grand trip, I met the Koran when I got home to Singapore. He told me he was seeing someone and "it was the first time I...", he said.

"that you are serious?" I asked innocently.

He had a taken aback look and said "no, not really." He just didn't know how the long distance thing was going to work out, he said.

Two months later, he got married.

People told me it was pretty much out of the blue. Only eleven months before that, whilst we had our little affair, he wondered if he was ever going to get married.

How things can change in a matter of one year.

Or 52 weeks.

I often think about the Koran in a disturbed sort of way. I recall fondly his spontaneiety to hang out and party- company for that once insomniac in me was hard to come by. Koran helped me recapture one part of my youth during that dark part of my life. I did love holding hands with him and our kisses reminded me of my high school days. He was acually a rather sweet boy.

Oh yes, I digress. I meant to say I think of Koran quite a bit in a disturbed sort of way. I wonder about his vulnerability behind his funny persona. I wonder if he had been affected by my callousness in some way or another...

Last year when I was back home, I texted a long lost friend whom I heard got married (as with many others I caught up with over my high school reunion thanks to Facebook) and told her I heard about the good news and I was back. In the dark light of the disco, I must have accidentally sent to him instead of my friend since their names was next to the other in the alphabetical order of the phone book. I forgot about it.

The next day, I received a nasty text from the Koran at something along the lines:

"Do you not understand English???? Yes, I am a happily married man. Stop contacting me and I don't give a damn that you are back!!!!"

I was on the train when I received this shocker of a text. Strong and harsh message he was trying to get across to me, like I have been stalking him.

What have I done to him for such great spite, I wonder?

So yeah, I do think of him every so often in a strange, disturbed way. If I have ever hurt him with my callousness, I am truly sorry.

I hope he is happy-he seems to be though- his wife looks gorgeous on his Facebook profile and actually, they do make a cute and compatible couple.

I often wonder about him and his strong comeback smses and his hasty marriage.

Is he afraid of loneliness, I wonder?

As with many other people, both male and female I met in my life.

Then I start to wonder about me- am I afraid of loneliness?

Not really, I don't think.

Now that I have overcome my phobia, I just need my own car and I reckon I would be just as happy taking a leisurely drive around Sad Town. A nice book sitting at the cafe with my dog or even without- I would still be contented.

So in a matter of a year, there were a few transformations that took place in our lives. The Koran and I shagged, had some fun, then I got crazy and couldn't bear working in the corporate world any longer, in the meantime, he met someone he fancied getting serious with, I quit my job and went to search for myself in the mountains of Nepal, he got more serious with his girlfriend and his job got busier, then I suddenly had the opportunity to head back to Sad Town to start a restaurant and reunite with DL and then he got happily married and went to the Middle East for work and then I left the restaurant partnership.... whilst all this was going, I was still waiting for my broken heart with the Old Boy to heal, I thought it never would and god knows how many new girls the Old Boy made acquaintances with and shagged, I didn't want to know then... I couldn't bear to know...

(Deep breath out)... it was a full on year-that 2008. In a matter of a year, so much have taken place. I haven't even begin to talk about 2009 and it's already 2010.

Koran has been already married for more than a year. The Old Boy and I are a thing the past (two years). I had gone from a corporate rat wearing rich rags to a daggy housewife to someone running two businesses, trying my darnest to make ends meet with a good honest living.

My oh my, what a difference a year makes.

You should check out the new number of freckles on my nose. Going on 31, I realise that sunscreen is my new, absolute best friend.

2010-03-17T00:17:00.002+11:00

Dearie Me

I have been having a case of bad indigestion or tummy discomfort whatever you call it. I mean for the past few weeks.

Now I am being kept awake all night because the wind in my stomach is causing me to bloat and hurt. I just wish I have diarrhoea to detox all the crap in my system but no, it seems like my stomach is bent on torturing me. Perhaps because I have been too much of a gluttony.

After all, food and dining out at the end of each day seems to be the ONLY highlight of my day and DL's.

Then we would pretty much call it a night.

*****

There isn't much to tell in my sad world here in Sad Town.

I wake up, go meet the same prospects and get my brains working so that the money can start rolling my way, then move on to do some mundane physical work with DL in our other business (which suddenly seems rather therapeutic to me) and feel warm and fuzzy that we made yet another few hundred bucks that day (only to blow it on a good dinner that evening YET again- and we have three maxed out credit cards that need to be paid and the TV invoices are billing us at a rate faster than what I can barely keep up with).

So yeah, there isn't much to tell.

Bedroom wise-it's non existent, in case any of you are STILL wondering.

I even now have the queen sized bed to myself. DL likes to sleep on another bed in another room where he claims that it is more comfortable. He also hates sharing a blanket and feel like he has been strait-jacketed.

Any attempts at arousing his manhood is responded with irritation.

So yeah, I kinda give up.

I mean give up on sex althogether. If I choose to be with this man and further more, choose to stay monogamous.

Do I miss my old, rampant and spontaneous sex life from the past? I have been asking myself.

I even try to fantasize about the Old Boy, Big M, Koran, the Aura and other grey or random arrangements I have of the past.

Still, I stop feeling excited.

It's like P is not that P from the past.

I don't even know if I could bother myself with exchanging scintillating messages with propositioners. A polygamous online friend tried but it just wasn't working.

I am feeling like a prude-heh!

I just hope this isn't the end of the journey of my short life.

I am about to turn 31 in 2 weeks, V reminded me since hers is arriving this weekend. She asked me what I was going to do. Oh and I still have sewing lessons to attend.

****
Now I am feeling even bored with myself.

Any great ideas out there to get me back in shape?

2010-02-20T20:40:00.002+11:00

The Culling Season

Prior to the Chinese Lunar new year, people traditionally like to do a spring clean to welcome the arrival of spring. So they go about uncluttering their space, chuck out the old stuff and do a big clean out.

It occurs to me that this is what seems to be happening TO me in the facebook sphere. In the span of one week during this Chinese new year festive season, I did my sporadic click to see where my list of 200+ friends are at in their lives. I have 2 people who have dropped me. God knows how many more have done so since I don't keep count of the number of facebook "friends" I keep.

Thanks to internet technology, I no longer have to REALLY keep in touch with anyone to keep in touch with them. Which suits me fine. As you readers probably figure by now, I am mostly a recluse(in my own self absorbed world- as DL would comment resentfully at times since it's all about ME)in my day to day life with no desire to socialise unless I absolutely have to. Well, of course barring a few selected friends that I get on well with, which I meet on a routinely schedule, like on late night shopping Fridays. You see, I am a creature of habit here in Sad Town who hate to be disrupted in how I organise my time and schedule do do my OWN things, except when it comes to business matters which I have no control over my diary as things often pick up within 48 hours with little notice.

Yeah, so Faceboook was a dream come true for a mapper like me, connections upon connections. I am never too faraway from keeping on top of social news back home and dropping the occasional "how's it going" wall messages to keep in touch. The best thing is I don't really have to keep in touch but am still keeping in touch, watching fro a distance, like a voyeur...;)

In a span of a week, as I was doing my routine check on what's happening in people's lives back home (versus my non-existent sedated life in Sad Town so living vicariously off others become quite an enjoyment for someone with a massive social inertia like me), I noticed that 2 "friends" on my list have taken me off their list.

Hmm, tis the culling season.

Maybe I am not too cool for these people since I have long been missing in action on the local social scene. Or maybe one of them HATES me!;(

One particular person who dropped me had the privilege of being on my msn list (I keep a VERY lean list) is one prominent socialite who made the effort to keep in touch and invite me out to events when I was back home. Strange though, when I first met her at a party, she came up and chatted to me and as I am rather "foreign", I didn't know she was a prominent so and so's daughter (though I knew of the father from my years of following society and Tatler news so I was more familiar with the names of the older generation.) I actually found this girl to be rather trying- there was something about her that I didn't trust or take a particular fondness for (although I am one who can be quick to make fast girly friends with people). But she was so nice along the way, sincere to meet up the next time I was back home that I figured she wasn't so bad after all.

One particular incident never fails to leave my memory on the last time we met. As with such outings, these people never stop getting photographed or getting trigger happy with their slim cameras of themselves and their entourage. This particular socialite and I were posed together for a number of pictures. She whispered to me to lean forward because she had "a big head" and didn't want the camera to take her full front face. But truth is, despite her tall and slender legs and body, she has a big face. For that very instant, I found her extremely vain and self centered for the lack of a better word.

I don't even know why I mention this but there was something funny in this above episode. I don't paricularly like the shape of my face either (my main gripe about my looks though I am not complaining about my facial features). It made me realise these people was really a different breed altogether. They do take themselves and how they look on the photos quite seriously. And she is not even the only one I have met. There are always socialites and wannabes who take photos at a particular angle without fail with such deliberate efforts.

Again, I am somewhat amused. Perhaps that is what distincts my attitude from theirs. Apart from my prissy dressing when I hit the town up to my nines, I haven't got what they have in me. Well, I guess I don't take myself too seriously. Even the pics tagged onto my facebook are as they are. No photo shop, hardly any cool and flattering angles. They were captured in the moment as P being the way P is. That's what I love about them....;)

OK, I have just disgressed.

So what I meant to say was I should never have mistrusted my first instinct because I always learn to be sorry if I let my guard down with all creatures, big and small. In life and business as we all learn- ignore your awareness at your own peril.

I should probably start culling some people myself.

New year, new life and drop the old acquaintainces...;)

Happy Chinese New Year to all!:D

2010-02-12T14:56:00.002+11:00

Legend

Nothing saddens me more than learning that yet another legend departs from the world.

So I got an email from my old school in Paris today informing me that Alexander McQueen is dead. He is only 40. Cause of death appears to be unnatural.

At one stage, he lectured at our school. I didn't have the privilege to be taught by him when I was there.

The news that most saddened me was when Yves St Laurent passed away. That year, when I went to Paris, he had retired from Rive Gauche. I had the privilege to visit his museum and archives not accessible to the general public. It was an eyeful for a budding design student like me to be able to witness the years of years of couture and milinery collection one sees on the runway on TV. I was a few millimetres close to these items, only we were not allow to touch them as we walk through the narrow aisles of wadrobes with hanging outfits in chronological order from the time they first made their appearance on the fashion runway. I stuck out my index finger and secretly swept it past the sights of my outfit to re-affirm that my experience there was real. I was in Paris and this close to these outfits adorned by supermodels and designed by this fashion legend. Then my teacher, a talented man who used to work in one of the legendary French couture house before being headhunted by JPG noticed me and shook his tsk tsk finger at me to refrain from me from my action...

*****

Amidst a significant crisis in my life due to my not-seem-to-be-working-well business, I find myself gaining solace and contentment from designing, sewing and creating new garments.

Coincidentally, the other day I received an out of the blue email from a fashion recruiter. He got my contact from my school in Paris and wrote to see if I was interested to apply for a product developer/ designer job in Shanghai for a high end Swedish knitwear company with presence throughout Europe.

I love knitwear and most importantly, I am equally serious about the quality of the knitwear that I used to wear and by. So in that sense, I do know something about knitwear. I was in fashion retail for awhile and we sold knitwear so I do know what sells.

It's a bit like the law of attraction. The stars are trying to get aligned in my interest.

No one from the old school ever write to me officially. Well, apart from old friends who write the occasional personal email to see how things are going on my end and vice versa.

But it's strange.

Two emails from my school in 3 days.

My Parisian experience is eons ago, like some 5.5 years. I almost need to pinch myself to confirm that it was real- me organising a magazine event at Maxim's, drink moet champagne and rubbing shoulders with fabulously tall and beautiful people... then those thankless days working quietly (mostly alone) in the atelier listening to "It's a lovely day" as the rain pitter patter out of my window on Rue Remur and those hapless one night stands, affairs, drunken, weed high nights...

I almost think I have been dreaming...

Feels like I had lived another lifetime.

2010-01-26T22:32:00.003+11:00

Phobia

I have finally overcome my phobia of driving. Eleven years after. You cannot imagine how excited I feel, like I feel my entire life is about to change for the better.

My fear of driving had always been the bane of my social life. It was alsonfast handicapping my ability to conduct our core business efficiently, given that DL's other business is fast gaining momentum which meant that he couldn't be my designated driver like he used to be.

So when his Dad suddenly contacted him about his grandfather's impending death which eventuated into death 24 hours later, DL was called upon to return home to Singapore on the next available flight.

I was left with the car, my appointments and our businesses.

I had to get over my fear of driving alone. Or driving for that matter.

My first drive alone was to drop DL at the bus station to travel inter-state. I had Fluffball with me to see him off. Then on the same day, I had a business appointment in the afternoon. My trusted GPS that DL bought for me (and which I had vehemently resisted practising my driving despite the assurance that the GPS will solve all my fear of my lack of a sense of direction ) saved my day.

It's been Day four since I had the use of my car. This morning, I drove far south to my business appointment and was quite proud of my ability to follow the GPS instructions. As friends know, I am just shit with my directions.

A couple of hours ago, I went to a friend's birthday dinner.

It is Australia Day today.

As I drove home from the city, I felt a sense of inner peace and satisfaction that I have never felt before. There was the awesome fireworks blasting before me (like it was celebrating me) in the sky as I drove on away from the bustle of festive activities, soul music with "Sweet Georgia on my mind" playing on the radio filling up the interior of my car, I couldn't felt any happier and free.

I have finally regained my own freedom and freed myself from the shackles of my inner demons.

When I get bolder, I shall take long lonesome, midnight drives with my favourite jazz channel accompanying me and my night journey.

Today, I feel like a new beginning has dawned upon me and for the first time in a decade, I suddenly feel that I can resume my social activities and be the good old social butterfly P in Singapore as I have always been. A dark, overcasting shadow lifted off me. Finally, Australia (a place I felt trapped in and have existed in for a good 10.5 years) feels like home.

Oh, Happy Happy Australia Day!

2010-01-23T11:19:00.003+11:00

High School Reunion

Last June when I was back home in Singapore, I organised a high school reunion. Facebook has really been effective for finding long lost friends.

I started the planning before from Sad Town. It was so awesome. A Thai classmate, Jessie of mine who disappeared suddenly in the third term and decided she was heading to New Zealand for her education flew back for the reunion and stayed at my house. She told me the real story of her disappearance and we caught up on old times like we have never stopped contact for 15 years. She remembered tons of stuff about me right from when I was 13 and we matched each other to our memory prowess and we laughed and giggled like teenage school girls, staying up all night to reminisce and catch up on old times.

Srangely, Jessie is a mum now and her body still looked great. She married a guy 11 years her senior she met within a year after her break up with her long term boyfriend. We exchanged girly talk about boys and sex as freely as we did as teenagers. Perhaps that's what female bonding is all about.

I let her in about my sordid life and she did with hers. She told me she kindda missed the old days....

Before all this came about, Jessie and I, together with a couple of friends went to the clubs. Before we left, I thought I noticed that she removed a condom out of her make up purse and dropped it into her lugguage. I didn't say anything.

That night, she confessed that she just didn't want to be tempted. If she didn't have the thought of knowing that she has protection in her bag, she would not act on her desires for the night.

It was a massive turn out. I had everyone dressed in green, just like our high school uniforms. People could spot our crowd from afar. I had a tiny spaghetti green dress on, a friend quipped that it was a skimpy version of our high school pinafore. Over dim sum, we girls gossiped like high school girls once more.

I felt young again and liberated. We were laughing a lot. I missed being in an all girls school environment. Most of my friends still look and spoke the same way, barring a few with newly adopted foreign accents, a few mums and wives. Then we have a few geeky types who have blossomed to attractive, well dressed ladies. Our tomboy ex chairman brought her cute Eurasian baby boy. She married her American lecturer from university 20 years her senior and has since turned into a globe trotting tai tai.

I was truly delighted. Everyone had an awesome time, catching up on lost time and gossip. I even brought old high school pics and yearbook. V and I took the opportunity to spread the word amongst our friends about Ange the bitch (an ex -BFF of V and a good friend of mine) who was instrumental in breaking up V and her ex fiance. Ange is now married to this jerk of a fiance and we heard from the grapevine, she fell pregnant. We all had a great bitching session- someone in our group captured the golden moment on photo- I was telling the story and all eyes and attention were on me around the table. It was hilarious.

It's funny how so many of my friends were married and have become mothers. It felt like yesterday that we were those giggly high school girls on sat on the railings of the bus stops.

Some people say that high school is a time where you either hate it or love it. If you had been a socially awkward nerd or one with a case of crazy hormonal zits, you would have found high school to be a pain. For me, I always had friends from both sides-the "in" group and the nerds and I had no trouble hanging out alone with myself (which I tremendously enjoyed). It was the boom time nineties for me (or rather my folks)- plenty of pocket/ shopping money to dress in the latest fashion. I didn't have a problem growing up. Sporadically, I even had boyfriends and suitors so life was great (especially with my rollerblades!:))

I had the usual self consciousness about my weight, given I danced and it was fashionable to be skinny which I wasn't. Being in an all girls' school meant I wasn't conscious about my image because of guys but because I was vain and love ME too much. But apart from that, I had the healthy self esteem of a normal 15 year old teenager. It was girl power all the way.

So yeah, I felt like I was re-capturing my youth being with old high school friends again. I miss being in an all girls' clique, doing all things girly. I just miss that youthful, old me.

High school rocked for me. I will be organising another reunion when I am next back...:)

In other news, during my high school reunion at this particular dim sum restaurant, I saw a familiar face dart out quickly from the establishment. She must have noticed me in our big, gregarious green crowd, moving around doing the social butterfly hostess thing. It was Buff- the current wife of my first serious pilot ex-boyfriend who came up to front me about how he was back with this jerk who dumped me (cos he cheated on me back with her. Jerk never had the guts to tell me but years after, a few missing puzzles resurfaced to form the full picture). Interestingly, a few days after, I noticed that he (or is it she?) had removed me from his Facebook. She had just moved back from Europe and she must have thought I must have been back to haunt her thirteen years later;)

2010-01-21T10:20:00.002+11:00

Home

I must say on most days, I am at peace.

I love being at home with my fashion creations around me in my mini studio. I spend many spare moments staring at my mannequinns, one in particular. I look out of the window next to my studio and watch the occasional passer-by on the footpath stroll past our garden with their dogs...

It is past 10 in the morning. I haven't got any appointments until 5pm. A few mundane paper related work awaits me. I am procrastinating and thinking about my unfinished blouse project that beckons me at my sewing desk. In about an hour, I should get up to prepare lunch- DL has a busy day today.

Some days I wonder how I have so gradually and successfully lost my weather worn anxiety. I really should be worried- the money is coming in a trickle from DL's business (though we are beginning to get busy but an impending death beckons him home at the last minute this weekend). He reminded me sternly last night another advertising payment is due on the first. Where should we find the money?

I don't know, I said, oblivious to the anxiety around me.

I find myself getting less hectic but more effective. Hopefully, the few deposits I get will convert to sale. Real soon- I have bills and debts to pay.

One sale and I might have a chance at paying all my bills.

Two sales and we will be going good.

Three sales, I will be coming back home to Singapore for a break from the mundanity of my life in Sad Town.

Then the royalties I collect will start making sense in our bank account.

Each sale I make thereafter, I could put it into the trust fund and pay for a year's tuition fees at the local grammar school if I have a child. If not, we will be going on holidays and planning towards a deposit for a house. Finally.

Actually, I think I will put that aside to get back to a fashion school and the leftover towards the other business project in the pipeline. Then there's more. My mum is hoping that she could persuade my dad to invest more in us in the next couple of years- a restaurant since it has always been the passion of DL and me. Maybe we will away from Sad Town. I have 3 places in my mind- Dubai, Paris or the Panama. We'll think about that when we get there.

In the meantime, I better sell.

Speaking of selling, I have amassed my own collection of fashion creations that I have done in the last eight years ago. I should really take it to the craft markets to sell once again. They should at least fetch me a few grand. Maybe then, I can start paying off some of my debts.

I am finding it hard to part with them- each painstakingly handsewn, painted and embellished with love.

For once, my love is soul deep.

2010-01-14T23:53:00.003+11:00

2010

Yes, I know I haven't blogged in ages. The readership though is looking stronger than ever.

I don't why. Maybe people actually LIKE the fact that I am NOT blogging so they keep checking...;)

2009 went and here comes 2010. Lots of untold stories of 2009 begging to be told, except I find the energy to write only in spirit and thought.

Another sexless year gone past- I am even beginning to feel nostalgic about my old messed up life, except I don't miss the messed up bit.

I find myself doing a lot of thinking and reminisincing and missing in my head but no motivation for action or shit stirring. Perhaps I am getting older and wiser. Or is it sedated?

Cash flow is running an all time low- I stop stressing. A quarter of a million dollars expended within 3 months, I have never been a bigger spender. But the number of shoes and dresses in my wardrobe remain the same as 2008.

I just read old blog entries of a certain Sicko and I was transported to a time in my life- old (seemingly) free spirited (/falling)P. I almost miss that.

Today I met an old buddy and was transported to reality. I haven't had a paycheck since May 2008. My old buddy still makes less money than I did in 2008 and he can afford to buy a brand new car upfront and a big trip to the World Cup and more left to buy a house. Where did my money go to then, I ask?

I should have enjoyed myself better. I spent too much time being depressive and too much money on food.

My mum bought me a pair of Ted Baker shoes for Christmas but where can I wear them to? I am stuck in my ugly blue uniforms and comfy air sole shoes on most days- I am trying to relate to the masses and I have dropped my pearls.

Lately, I spent most of my non-working hours creating beautiful clothes. It's been keeping my adrenalin pumping. I need more mannequins in my studio. Now I am finding my mojo back, like my good old days in Paris minus the pain.

In other news, M wrote suddenly that he has moved to Singapore (a country he first visited to make up to me a year after we parted in Paris) and that he would love for us to catch up when I am back.

Do I make anything out of it? I stop thinking and wondering.

Now would anyone like to check out my new collection of clothes? I am working on a "runaway" bag.

I would love to talk about my new creations!:)

My old buddy is excited to see me picking myself up and doing my thing again. He was the only person who saw me in action in Paris.

Now I need to work on T-shirt I have promised him 5.5 years ago.

Yes, it's already five and the half years- Paris, Mr. London and my shits, we reminisced.

Stop reminding me that I am turning 32, he said.

"I so wanted to have a girlfriend, P!" he confessed emphatically in our drunken state while we strolled along the River Seine as I wept over Mr. London.

He is finally dating a girl with the same name as my mum and the ex office bully.

Just dating and getting to know each other, no action as yet but I am crossing my fingers for him.

Enjoy this dancing around the maypole mating ritual before your life becomes as mundane as mine, I laughed.

2009-12-16T09:52:00.002+11:00

Sex Drive

"I don't think you have very high sex drive," Intense commented.

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"I get the sense that you always get sought out by the guys first."

"But I do need to take accountability, don't I for the act to happen?"

"But you don't initiate it right?"

"Sometimes I do. But you are right. I don't have very high sex drive, I think.

When did you begin to suspect- after you met me or even when you are reading my blog?"

"Both but after I met you, it further confirms it..."

"You know I had a peep at your red painted toes when we first met. And when I unzip your dress to put that heat pack rub for you, I was getting so turned on!"

"Were you? If I noted a hard on, I would have been so embarrassed or I would just take flight!"

"Would you? Well, don't worry I could control myself better!"

"Oh good!"

"I do feel bad now thinking of you that way now that you are my friend. But you do turn me on!"

"But I have done nothing, have I?"

"Nope. It's just me and I know whey guys are turned on by you."

"Why?"

"It's just the way you are."

"But can you tell me if I have behaved in anyway to encourage it?"

"Not really, but I just want you."

"Crazy! But I don't want you."

"And you would never want me right?"

"No, I am just not sexually attracted to you. Or for most people, really."

"I am just not your type right?"

"Nope. Look you have your fetish for toes, I have mine. They happen to be older men or fat white men with power."

"What about OB (old boy)?"

"He was my friend."

"I am your friend too."

"Yup but he is my best friend. He knows my deep dark secrets."

"Like what?"

"They are my secrets. I am not telling you."

"That's why I enjoy being with him. I love him."

"OK. But I still want you. But I know not a chance."

"Yup, too right. Maybe in your fantasy, Intense!;)"

*****

Intense is right. I don't have much of a sex drive. I notice that so especially when I am emotionally stable, like now. In my manic state, I drown in sex and even then mostly, it was passion-less and lustless. I was like playing actress to my audience, which is the said partner I was copulating with.

In my mind, sex is sex. Fuck and chuck. Pump and dump. The Old Boy mentioned in one of our very first rendezvous that he got the feeling like I wanted to do it with him for the sake of sex, not because I had feelings for him. Maybe that was why he felt somewhat insecure and lacking in confidence, feeling the need to please me constantly. But with time, I did love him and more accepting of our carnal rhythm and we became more in sync.

But I do recall a time where I was so curious and excited about sex- mainly with DL in my youth- and what sex meant for me as a rite of passage to being grown up and all the naive, rosy ideas you have of being an adult and being your own woman.

Hopefully, I could find that again in my life because right now I feel like a whithering flower.

I am barely thirty.

2009-12-16T09:50:00.002+11:00

Oh Boy! (not this one...)

When I was back home in Singapore in July, the Old Boy and I went to a pub after dinner at the country club to meet his old friends. A friend, Daddy from his old days in Melbourne some 20 plus years ago was in town. Daddy and the Old Boy used to hang out as a group (fellow Malaysians and Singaporeans) when they were at university. It was a time where the Old Boy was with his very first girlfriend whom he dated for five years.

Daddy’s entire family had migrated to Australia thirty years ago. His father had recently passed on and he was en route to Malaysia to sort out the will. Daddy is a wealthy businessman in Melbourne and had done really well for himself. The Old Boy had told me that Daddy is also involved in some money laundering.

The Old Boy had to be home before midnight so he took leave of the company. I wasn’t in the mood to go home and I was feeling sad that the Old Boy and I didn’t have any alone time at all. We were unexpectedly invited to dinner by his fellow squash players at the club and I wasn’t expecting company then either. Slowly, his other friends left and it was down to us two- Daddy and me.

Daddy and I chatted about everything under the sun (or rather, moon). He mentioned to me how he met his wife online. He was in his mid or late thirties at that stage and was pretty much resigned to fate that he wasn’t getting married. He went to Malaysia to meet her, got on well and then he proposed and within three months she was back in Australia, married to him. Then the kids came and he now has two young children-a boy and a girl. Picture perfect family.

I asked him how the Old Boy was like when they were in Melbourne. He told me about how the Old Boy had always been the quiet sort and that although the Old Boy was one of the richest in their group, he was always very humble about it. The Old Boy and Daddy lost touch for more than 10 years and then through mutual friends, they caught up a few years ago. They kept in touch infrequently since then.

As time went by and Daddy and I warmed up, he looked at my bare skin (I was wearing a thin spaghetti strapped jade green dress) and said, “You are very fair...” The way he looked at me made me uncomfortable.

In between, he topped up the whisky in my glass. Every so often, the waitress came to do the same. I had earlier befriended the 18-year old waitress with numerous tattoos on her back who accompanied me to the toilet (since it wasn’t a very safe area) and I whispered in her ear to top up more ice in my glass than whisky. Got you, she said.

Daddy told me that his father’s death had caused him to be really angry and he didn’t know why. He was thinking of getting away for a while to Bali just to relax. Good idea, I said. Maybe he should try meditation, I suggested further. Amidst the loud live music, he stroked my bare arm lightly (which gave me the creeps as I pulled away) and asked if I would like to join him in Bali...

Not long after, Daddy suggested that we should just get out of the pub and I did. “Stay,” the young waitress pleaded. I told her I would be alright and I was sure I would be back to see her soon.

We walked along the nice windy boulevard at past one in the morning. We found a bench next to the main road and we sat down to chat further. My antenna was up and I wasn’t about to go anywhere that wasn’t public.

Daddy didn’t try to be touchy feely after that, I don’t think. A few times he asked me if I felt he was a naughty boy or something, trying to allude to the “other” side of his personality. I told him straight up that I had no thoughts or opinions whatsoever of what he was like. We talked about our motivations in life regarding our work and we touched on some philosophical topics and each time, I felt inclined to suggest meditation to him since he sounded like a man filled with angst.

Then I decided I was tired and needed to get home to sleep. I flagged a cab and he suggested he would see me off in the same cab. He didn’t try to do anything further that night. The next day he was due to leave for Malaysia.

*******

The next morning whilst I was in my Dad’s office and chatting to the Old Boy online, I received an unfamiliar call. It was Daddy. He called to tell me excitedly how he had just gone to the temple with his mum and he asked for direction with the divinity lot to dispel his angst. He got a reading that suggested he meditate. He thought it was uncanny. Anyway, he seemed like he wanted to chat on the phone. I obliged for five to ten minutes but then since I would rather be chatting to the Old Boy, I wished him luck with everything in Malaysia and bid him farewell.

Initially, the Old Boy thought I was overly sensitive when I told him online how Daddy commented on my fair skin. “But you are really fair,” was Old Boy’s reply. Then the phone call came and I spoke to Daddy as I typed to the Old Boy. The Old Boy told me he didn’t get any farewell phone calls from Daddy. He began to think that Daddy’s behaviour towards me was strange.

Subsequently in the next few nights, I got sms texts from Malaysia. It was Daddy telling me that he was in Malaysia already. Let him know if I couldn’t sleep and he would ring me and chat with me. Blah, blah, blah....

I felt really uncomfortable and I told the Old Boy about him again.

Ignore him then, was his advice.

And ignore Daddy I did.

What an unwanted attraction, I thought.

I wonder what I have done to lead Daddy think about me that way.

My body language definitely wasn’t one to suggest I wanted him in any shape or form.

Oh Boy!

2009-12-03T22:00:00.003+11:00

WTF

WTF! I just did a quick Facebook search on the Man (just thought of this person out of the blue)and one result returned.

I ddin't recognise that face but thought I should check out this person's friends. Guess what? I recognised some of the names.

That stranger is him! I have to stare hard enough to recognise semblances of him that I can recall from memory.

Now I must say all this being my own boss must be making me forgetful about my sordid past... or am I just getting old?;)

2009-11-19T22:26:00.002+11:00

The Unbearable Light-ness of Love

You know how some things never change?

Just to hear from him, like old friends do at sporadic intervals, still sends you that nice, fuzzy tingles.

You hang on to the words of that casual remark he made about you...

I’d be flattered if I wasn’t married.

As you both reminisce a little, not too much or too far down that old track.

The bulb in your being instantly lights up a thousand watts.

It will continue to light you for at least the rest of tonight, and maybe tomorrow.

You will sleep on this nice private thought tonight.

You continue to stay friendly and platonic, made peace that your joint past is history.

Despite so, you feel love.

Love of that unconditional sort.

Love for your old lover.

Love that never did left your heart, though your lives are becoming more disconnected from each other, drifting in different directions with the passage of time.

Love that left you with bitter sweet memories but strangely puts a quiet smile on your face.

At least we had fun.

2009-11-15T16:07:00.002+11:00

Soulmate

A number of months ago (I reckon it was July), I had a long chat on the msn with Destiny. Destiny is a girl whom I have met a year ago at the club when I was back home doing my socialising round. I introduced her to my friend Soci (whom I got to know through his father who happens to be one of Old Boy’s best friend) and the rest is history.

One night, Destiny and I began chatting on msn for a good four hours. She is a talented fashion design student graduate who had moved to a fashion desert like Sad Town to be with Soci. We bantered about our love for fashion creation and exchanged ideas on what she could do here to continue her art and make some money on the side.
We got on better as we warmed up with time and we started talking about boys and love. She knew about my past with the Old Boy who she had met during outings with Soci’s family. She has also come to know DL from living in Sad Town since they are always invited the joint social gatherings and birthday parties of the people we hang out with here.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” she asked.

“Of course, I do.”

Destiny then asked me whom I felt was more compatible with- DL or the Old Boy.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“DL and I just know each other’s intention well within a social setting. We have similar views about how we would raise children. But having said all that, we have been together for a long time for us to have this certain mutual understanding of each other’s moves. We were fire and water to start with and it had taken years for us to get here... but it must have been some form of love or another for us to tolerate each other and want to make it work, I guess. After all, we are so different....”

“What about the Old Boy?” she asked.

“ Well, we met under a different context, through the blog. We used to write lyrical emails and began chatting online. But it was strange how we always guessed the other person’s personality or train of thought right. We had some form of chemistry and guess we were similar, being polygamous. So there was something spontaneous about our communications and we held the bandits’ honour together. He was my best friend for a long time and I felt I could confide in him. Despite so, our interaction was always light-hearted and fun at the beginning until feelings got serious, or perhaps the sex or jealousy ruined it...”

“Hmm, then the Old Boy must be your soulmate, although you would end up with DL who loves you.”

That reminded me of what a clairvoyant said the week before- about me griefing the loss of a soulmate. But then, sometimes you won’t end up with a soulmate for a good reason and you would end up with the man who loves you more...

2009-11-13T20:15:00.005+11:00

Hair

Last night over dinner, Daisy made a jibe about me having a predilection for men “without hair”. What she meant was that I seemed to always pick out the bald or rather, guys with shaved heads on the street as my eye candies.

Soci’s cheeky mind had instead wandered off the track and interpreted my attraction to men who like to shave themselves down south. He started teasing me.

Whoa, where did that come from, Daisy and I soon realised where the conversation was going.

“Oh don’t be shy. It’s the 21st Century, you are entitled to whatever suits you...” he continued teasing me.

“No, no, no... that’s not what I mean,” Daisy interjected.

We were all laughing.

I then commented that I honestly don’t fancy guys who are too particular or high maintenance when it comes to gardening their own hair, especially in the arm pits, legs and private departments. They tend to be people who are either gay (which is fine by me) or anal, fussy, vain, having low tolerance or are highly critical about things (especially the physical appearance), traits I cannot stand in a man. Men should be like men- that is, low maintenance, easy-going and not a whinger. And they can take dirt. Period.

Which brings me down to a few memory lanes...

*****

I heard from my principal at fashion school that the typical French woman doesn’t care about waxing or shaving. Basically, their personal grooming so much extends to allowing their fauna grow free willy in areas that I thought most females would pay particular attention to, namely the armpits and possibly the bikini area.

In Paris, I had come to share a sensual encounter with a French by the name of Aura. Some of you long-time readers may remember this character in P’s life as the half-stranger who gave her the most mind blowingly orgasmic sex she had ever had and from that day on, she strangely regained the libido she thought she had lost forever.

That night of pure lust, in his dimly-lit studio apartment, I curiously noticed that the Aura had his armpit shaved. I thought to myself that was very un-French and didn’t think very much afterwards.

While we were drunk with lust, sex and alcohol, in my naked state, I lifted my arm. In the dark, I noticed that he took a curious interest in my bare armpits. He took a double take, like he was drawn to the bareness. I felt a little self conscious and tried de-tracting his attention by climbing on top of him, arms wrapped around his neck.

******

After sex, Ted and I took to the ensuite bathroom. He wanted to freshen himself up before he took leave. His chauffer and friend was waiting in the car.

The mirror at the sink was one of those horizontal full length across the wall, like what you get in the hotels.

Ted admired his smooth tight naked six-pack body in the mirror. He had been training boxing at the gym with his personal trainer almost everyday in the week.

Ted was shaved at the armpits and around his manhood (which made the act of fellacio more hygienic for me, I reckon;)) Basically, he was bare in areas that supposedly asserted a person’s manliness.

“Am I fat?” He kept flexing slightly in front the mirror.

He could well be talking to himself.

He was absorbed in examining his own image.

Must be a converted fat man still trapped in his old fat soul or self-image.

“No baby, of course not...” was all I said.

2009-10-30T20:16:00.004+11:00

Old Habits Part II (sequel from “Old Habits”)

They got to the destination and took a stroll in the park. It had rained before. The ground was wet. He reached out to hold her hand. She didn’t resist, she simply felt indifferent. He then wrapped his arms around her waist. She was compelled to do likewise so that they could walk more in sync. She mentally noted the wide girth of his body as her arms was stretched out straight across the back of his waist. They found a bench and sat down. They both knew why they were there.

Small talk they had. She sat on his left. He had his left arm wrapped around his waist. She slung her legs over his lap. She was dressed in her betty-boo-ish black and white polka dotted fitted halter neck dress. She must have been complaining to him about something that had happened to her in the day. He humoured her and cocked his head to one side listening to her but his right hand was slowly moving underneath her dress. He parted her thighs lightly. He stroked her pussy lightly and made no attempt to wiggle his fingers underneath her panty to touch her bare flesh. He was teasing her. She was getting aroused.

“You are not listening to me...” she whined.

“Yes, I am. You are saying...”

They found their tongues inter-locking each other.

He was getting all hot and bothered, his usual heavy breathing way. He tried to caress her breasts and she pulled his hand away.

“Why?” he panted.

“Because...”

She pressed herself against him and felt the growing bulge of his manhood.
Lost in lust, he hastily unzipped his fly and guided her hand to his willie.
He wanted her to do the usual-wank the hell out of him.

She gave a little playful laugh and took out some tissues from her handbag and placed it over his rotund tummy. He was in a black T-shirt and a pair of black Bermudas.

“Baby, you are in black. Best not to leave any evidence...” She meant the possibility of shooting white cum.

“Oh you should know better,” he joked. He was looking at her dress. It was predominantly black.

They both laughed. She took out some more tissues and placed some over her tummy.
She fastened the rhythm of her hand movement over his manhood. He was panting breathlessly.

The love noise of desire titillated her. It has been awhile since she had felt aroused by a man late in the night, an illicit affair once more.

It was the usual-him getting aroused, his breath quickened. He moaned harder and louder. He drew in more breath as she tightened her grip. In that split second, his engorged beast burst into jets of sticky, white goo.

He was satiated. She wanted to move on to the next activity.

Not more than five metres away, there stood a lamppost. She then realised underneath it laid a person in the sleeping bag. That said person was lying there motionless, possibly either in slumber land or trying to keep still. She pointed it out to him.
Why hadn’t they notice the person before?

He looked a little taken aback and told her that from his peripheral view he had all along thought that it was damaged and abandoned umbrella at the bottom of the lamppost. In her sitting position on the bench, she was all along facing the lamppost and she too, had failed to recognise that they had company.

All well, she laughed. Let’s move on and get into the car, she said.

She got him to drive to that car park that the Old Boy and her first had a quickie many moons ago. It was a historically famous car park for lovers and voyeurs alike. Many trucks are typically parked there for various reasons. To deter illicit activities from going on in here, the council have installed some rather powerful and bright street lamps that cast white light on every few cars parked in there. They tried looking for a more strategic position and decided to sandwich their black car between two high trucks. She cautioned him amusingly that there might be voyeur truckies hiding in their trucks waiting to witness carnal actions as a good girlfriend of hers had twice been a victim of such voyeurs in this fateful car park.
She then added on that in case he didn’t realise, oh by the way, oral sex is illegal in Singapore.

What?! Are you serious? He asked.

Yeah, didn’t he know. It is considered as unnatural sex and they could be charged for offending. She laughed.

He must felt a little concern and partially lost his excitement.

In her head, she thought what it would look on the headlines in the Straits Times.
“High profile married expat banker caught engaging in the unnatural act of oral sex in the car with a local lover.”

She was getting amused.

Agilely, she climbed to the back seat of the car.

He was too rotund to do likewise. He got out of the car and quickly got into the back seat.

When he got seated, she climbed on top of his lap, spread her legs and sat facing him.

He inserted his tongue into her mouth and started kissing passionately, holding on to her waist.

Then he pulled his mouth away and looked at her, moving his hands slowly upwards to touch her body and then her breasts.

Don’t touch me there, she commanded.

He was part drooling and part pleading.

Can I just untie the halter and look at them with the bra on, he further pleaded.

She smiled slyly.

She enjoyed watching a powerful man weakening to vulnerability. She liked a pleading lover.

Only if you beg me, she teased.

And he did.

Would you like to untie the strings of my dress, oh Big bad Boy, she asked in her coquettish tone.

He was all excited, the drooling puppy expression not letting up. Clumsily, he tried to undo the delicate knot.

His chubby fingers and over-excitement must have got in the way. He couldn’t yank the knot out. Instead, it did the opposite.

She loosened the knot for him and let him do the honour of undo-ing the knot.

The halter strings of the dress came undone. He stared at the chest admiringly like one who was observing a piece of art.

Carefully and slowly, he ran his hand gently across her chest and stroked her bra cups gently.

They kissed again and in lust, she removed his black T-shirt and left it on the dashboard (which part blocked the lights casted onto the back of the car). She stroked his hairy chest lightly and rubbed herself against him in a riding motion. She liked playing Lolita to Big Daddy.

He undid his pants and got his proud and hot-blooded manhood out of his Bermudas. His arousal was heating him up and he was sweating. Again, she had her grip on his joystick.

What else would you like me to do, Big Boy, she eyed him seductively.

Oh, suck me, he begged breathlessly.

She got out of her position and knelt on his side. She lowered herself down. Her face was at dick level.

With one hand, she held his penis and inserted it into her mouth.

She sucked ravenously at it, first wetting it with saliva. Then she teased him by alternating her oral gymnastics with running the tip of her tongue on his mushroom head. The little aperture continued spitting wetness.

He pulled up her dress to reveal her bare buttocks wearing a thin piece of thong. He spanked her ass harder and faster to encourage further penetration of his dick into her orifice.

His moaning grew with the growing speed and increasing suction of the sucking movement- her manhood was inserted in and out of the mouth. As he continued going breathless, she inserted his cock deeper down her throat.

Faster, deeper and harder it went. He was going breathless from carnal delirium. She was going breathless from lusty exhaustion. Her face was buried between his legs.

I’m cumming, he warned.

She drew in more breath and increased her suction.

He exploded.

She prepped herself mentally (the usual) for the outburst and blocked herself of the taste of warm, potent white liquid in her mouth and took it into the system quickly like how one would down a shot. A protein shot, she privately joked to herself.
He threw his body back, huffing and puffing, still hyperventilating from his night treat.

This is how I had imagined what we could be. I am so going to take you away to spend more time with you, he was mind blown away.

Tit for tat.

Again, she wasn’t one who let the lover get away without pleasuring her.

My turn now, baby.

You want me to go down on you, he looked surprised and flattered with the privilege.

Why, of course. It’s payback time, Big Boy! She laughed.

She propped herself flat against one of the doors, her head resting on the window.
He parted her thighs, pulled up her dress, lifted her panty to one side to reveal her privates and buried his face between her legs. He did the cunninglingus and teased her pussy with the tip of her tongue. She was going wet and she started moaning.

You want to strip off my panties?

It’s ok. Any prior macho ambitions from the earlier sex texts of wanting to strip her to nakedness must have been cowardly dampened by the unthinkable consequences of being charged for indecent exposure in a rather brightly lit car park.

She held his head and encouraged his tongue to venture deeper as she thrust her pelvis towards him. She lifted her bottom up a little and demanded weakly from the pleasures of his tongue to insert a finger up her ass. She wanted to feel that tight enjoyment of having all her holes filled up.

He didn’t seem to understand her (possibly due to her distracted speech from being lost in lust) and for a moment, he misinterpreted that she wanted him to fuck her in the ass. Now, that would have been too full on for a piles-ridden P and the size of his fat cock might well do her in and send her straight for another colonoscopy. She declined his perplexed expression for confirmation by moaning no.

His tongue rhythm was great and his approach tenacious. Each time, she thought she was reaching the climax and all waiting to do her burst dam extraordinaire; his tongue would miss that secret spot by that mere millimetre. The anti-climax was fast resulting in her losing steam. She wasn’t getting the orgasm that she is so ever prowling for in such makeshift affairs. She found herself winding down in decline.

Gently, she withdrawn from the act by moaning a little louder to “signify” the climax (heheheh;)). At this stage, she already had her legs on his shoulders. She unwrapped them around his neck and he got up.

Did you enjoy it, he threaded the question self consciously.

Wasn’t I wet? She was not her usual acerbic self.

So you enjoy it?

Yes. (She part lied. It could have been better would have been fairer comment.)

Phew. I am glad you did.

She smiled compassionately.

I would really like to take you away and spend time with you. It was just like how I would like us to be.

Baby, you are sweating, she coo-ed sweetly. She grabbed for his black T-shirt on the dashboard and helped him put it back on. They kissed.

From this experience, she noted something. In her their smses tennis of lusty propositions, he had made it clear that he wanted her. He wanted to watch her face as she sucked him. He also wanted to see how lost in pleasure when he would devote his time to pleasuring her.

But, he did not find time or seemed interested to watch her in subordination to his manhood. He was NOT in control. Like others, he was lost in his plebeian lust.
He also did not so much as lift his head to watch her moan and tease her by denying her.

He didn’t take over her as she was hoping he would. After all, he is a powerful man in his daily arena.

She enjoys fucking with a powerful man and the dynamic of being part subordination in bed with her lover on such occasions of oral pleasures.

She nimbly climbed back to the front of the passenger seat and withdrawn back to her usual aloof silence.

Game over, time to go home.

He started the car and drove away.

Like how she experienced from some others before, he reached his hand over to touch her arm gently, waiting for reciprocation as he drove.

Let’s get away and I’ll spend more time with you together. I would see how my diary goes in the next few weeks, that encouragingly sweet expression written on his face.

We’ll see. If you manage to find time, she replied nonchalantly.

He had two hours for them that night.

Time was up.

Time to head home (to reality).

2009-10-27T20:35:00.001+11:00

Misery

Miserable.

Last two weeks have been hell.

Today, another lost lead.

I am not winning.

My heart feels congested.

My eyebrows are knitted.

I was told to slow down my game.

I haven’t close in on any really.

How the fuck can I slow down?

Miserable.

I reckon I will never get married at the rate I am going.

Even if I want to.

When the hell is money ever coming in?

2009-10-27T02:07:00.002+11:00

Two Minds

I can’t decide if I love my situation at the moment.

But being my own boss is definitely a lot better than working for someone else.
It stinks being a corporate slave.

If I become successful at what I do, I can change many people’s lives by helping them build profitable businesses.

Current cash flow is running low with all the advertising campaigns.

I have kind of used up my lifeline with my generous folks.

Over Daisy’s dinner party today, someone commented that I am lucky to be able to switch careers (or rather what I want to do) and make the choice of being my own boss.

Lately, whilst walking the dog, Daisy had asked me to stop envying the older sibling (the trophy child) because my folks have pretty much asked her to look for a property. Result: a lovely Art Deco apartment in the dress circle location of the lower north shore, a stone’s throw to the beaches.

Daisy was right. I must have been mildly jealous but nevertheless, I am still excited for the older sibling. I always wanted to own my own apartment before any of my friends or family even remotely considered one. Now I am still homeless.

I am constantly in the state of thinking what I want to do when I grow up.

I am constantly trying to find that “place” or haven that is home to my soul.

I always wanted to be a fashion designer when I grow up.

I still do. I am thirty. I am supposed to have grown up.

I find myself working on the mannequin on the weekend, draping and re-draping and embellishing the unfinished garment. I am still working on my circus theme collection- a project I have set for myself.

It brings comfort for me to seek refuge in creation. Maybe it brings me a glimmer of hope. Whatever that hope is.

A couple of hundred thousand dollars over expended to revamp my life and to unshackle me from the corporate world, I am still not a fashion designer by profession.

Art is food to my soul. I am still feeling unnourished.

I must’ve not grown up yet.

When will I grow up?