When was the last time you were disgusted?

Listening to: Seven days without you
Avion

Pop over to Yarn's. His latest post on Steven Lim, gives you today's lesson on how not to be a dickwad like singapore's most dubious eyebrow plucker. Go on, shoo, when was the last time you were morbidly fascinated? I'm too lazy to write bout SL, and plus i like my already meagre sleep too much to want to dwell on him. it. whatever.

Now back to moi :) After that upsetting day at work, yesterday was beautiful really.. The session at sgh went well enough, and i was back in office in time for lunch. Came back to find my mouse decorated to look like a spider, thanks to my neighbour, who exclaimed that she had missed me. Awwww shucks. I dangled it over my monitor for lunch to make it look like it was scrambling over my monitor. After my yam rice and big doses of other nasty carb's, candles were lit for frannie's 27th birthday. Then TWO chairs were set out. For both feb babies. At that point i tried to come up with an excuse to go, i hate fuss, but in the end had to sit and cut cake. Yarghh. Didn't bring the pics home, wanted to post a pic of it. White chocolate all round the edges, printed with animals in baby pastel colours-lol! The stuff of cuteness.. Bushy head warmer eyebrowsy ronan and danny both got a slice, but didn't get my age. Im not that generous.

After lunch no one wanted to get back to work. A gazillion pics were taken, starting with fran's GORGEOUS tulips.. Now i know how many people can squeeze into my cubbie, and how much weight my desk can take. Which isn't much. Creaking gets scary when it's not your property. I'm not particularly enamoured of flowers, partly because some have a little difficulty getting it right, but these were absolutely enchanting. Beautiful scent, delightful packaging, vivid purple colouring. So sue me, but i like my flowers romantic. Long stemmed, leave the thorns on, and get the big ones please. I hate smutty small flowers.

The tests went really well, better than i had expected, and the protocol is going to be on its way for dsrb soon. *yay*

After work met J for my very belated prezzie and dinner, and i met some of the friends as well, inclusive of singapore's reigning wushu tai tai, currently 7mths with baby, and still playing the band's drums as well. Incredible pocket dynamo.

Had company on my way home from the nice techhie. First he said he wld send me on my way. Then he decided to come all the way to my stop. Then he insisted he'd prefer a walk over a cab ride back to my place, so we walked for a good half hour. (Whoa. Hello- you're not tired, but i am k?)

Didn't make an issue of it in the end because i quite like walks and it turned out to be a pretty nice one. There was a nice breeze accompanying us, and my february moon was huge and hanging low, veiling us both with strong, illuminating moonlight.

Pointy haired bosses.

I haven't been so upset at work for a long, long time.

On wednesday i spoke to one of the scientists at work, telling him i had to postphone today's meeting because of another trial's preperation. When i reached office today, Ly came to me asking me why i had gone straight to the scientist instead of letting her know my constraints. I explained, and she was skeptical. Demanded to know why i had cancelled the original meeting, demanded to know why i had to do it since it was all supposedly in the schedule. It was only when she bothered to use her remarkable intelligence, and went to JL for clarification that she realised what had really happened.. I hated every moment of her accusations, hated her guts for spilling everything out in the open, hated myself for being too surprised to do anything but explain politely.

More than getting angry, what i hate most is being hurt. It startles me, makes me feel vulnerable, and worse, makes my eyes smart. It makes me feel like im 10 again. Sher asks me to curse. I can't even get out that much, my throat is so tight with anger.

The restrictions wear me down so goddam much. I need space, creativity, room to manouver, and all i get are their bloody leashes.

Tired, tired, tired today. Have the protocol to go through, comments to forward to various people, tests to study for, and sgh to be at by tomorrow morning. BIG sigh. All i need are c's hands on my temples, massaging just for a min, just to tell me im doing okay, and that he'll stay awake with me. Small comforts are all i have left though, so i'll just have to be content with wading through the waiting piles of work.

So you think you're sexy?

Listening to:Dans mon ile
Yoko Ono

Im wondering. Do any of you have friends who have had relationships start online? I found out yesterday that a friend had married a man, moved to the states, and settled down. And yes- they met online. They talked for a few months before meeting, and apparently were more than a little infatuated before they eventually met.

A while back i caught a documentary on human instincts, and this particular one was on the science of attraction :) They conducted experiments on certain theories, and these are a few that i found worth remembering.

1)It's possible to calculate how attractive a person is. The more symmetrical the facial features are, and to some extent the body, the more beautiful you are. And they tried this on isolated tribes as well, so it isn't a culturally conditioned factor. Greater symmetry counts because you're less likely to have a debilitating illness.

2)Pheromones- You're not consciously aware of them — they don't have a scent that you can notice. But your brain knows that pheromones are there. And your body reacts to the ones it likes. Men who sniffed T-shirts worn by women who are ovulating — the part of the menstrual cycle when they're most likely to get pregnant — found the scent more pleasant and sexy than the smell of a women in a less fertile stages. Women with irregular menstrual cycles who took a whiff of male sweat several times a week found their cycles grow closer to an average, regular length. And there's more! Through these pheromones, your body analyses and picks the genetic make up that is most different from yours to ensure our offspring remain genetically diverse. So much for a cute ass.

3)Status. We might not outwardly verbalise that we look for this, but notice we do. For men- this isn't as applicable, but you get the gist. Materialism has an organic origin, and that is to make sure the rest of us cave dwellers get more than a fair share of freshly hunted beast to haul onto our spit.

There are, of course, lots of other factors that make attraction a science, right down to the last decimal point in a woman's hip-waist ratio, but what about the couples who meet online?

There are no pheromones to tweak in us sexual awakening, no way our bodies subconsciously can tell how suitable for each other. How does one explain that then? When people only know how the other looks, writes, and feels.. Some things are meant to remain a mystery, and im glad. You know how women love to ask their bf's why they adore them? Sure as hell would ruin any moment if he answered that my 'pits just smelled right.

Oh- and people? This doen't give you an excuse to bathe less.. Just because you're dirty doesn't mean you have sexy pheromones.. So please, no excuses ;p

Of irritants and annoyances.

Listening to:Little girl blue

Nina Simone

Yesterday was a complete and utter waste of my time.

I swear. Regression, when you're aging must be spectacular when you're 54. Because it's frikkin cracking me up when i'm 26, even though it's just been 5 days.

Pointless activities i indulged in the office yesterday in no order whatsoever.

-Bak kwa'ed and tart'ed.

-Played trashball badminton with clipboards

-Attended meeting

-Indulged in literary gibberish on sametime connect, which is a platform for im'ing.

-Testimony'ed on friendster.

-Planned my fri nite and weekend

-Put the work i need to get done into my bag as i left. Psychological comfort even though i might not touch it at all during the next 48 hours.

My regular cabbie cldn't make it, so i had to walk out to the main cab stand at the nearby hospital. Before i left, it started raining, so the stands were inundated with a desperate hoard. As i settled down into the line, this woman came up to me to ask where the line started. I pointed her in the right direction, and her eyes opened wide.

"Where??There?"

I nod once again.

"Are you sure??" her arms go akimbo and she clucks in exasperation.

I want to roll my eyes. No, fucking Timbuctoo, i want to tell her, that's how long the queue really is, you fuckwad. I don't trust myself to answer and look away.

By now i realise that this lady is from Honk Kong. Am i surprised? No.

I bump into her again as i wait for my on call-cab. She's still there, and she moans about how she wants to get to the zoo on time. I offer to give her a number of dial a cab service, but she shakes her head. She's tried, but she didn't manage to get a cab.

I tell her i'd give her a lift, but the zoo doesn't loom large on my itinerary.

"This soo bad, you knoww" she drawwls in that accent we've all come to know and love from the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of the People's Republic of China.

"Such baad image of Sin gar pore! How can you allow it? Hong Kong would never allow this to happen!"

At that point my cab reaches, and riled though i am, i get in.

I am on no account patriotic. I feel no common love for my people when i travel and bump into them. It's a safe place to live, organised and it's accomplished for it's size. No more, no less. I've never felt particularly at home here. I don't even particularly like the people. The last time i spoke about National Day, which is Singapore's version of independence day, some nice soul looked at me, tilted her head, and said," You're Eurasian.. Why do you have to celebrate national day?"

Strange then that i felt an overwhelming urge to start postulatin' bout the lesser evils of my little island :)

On another note, i just received a wierd call from a friend, which in itself is normal cos he's my friend. He was complaining about a loo in Paragon where he was taking a poop,doin his own thing, when a psychic flush occured.

Definition of psychic flush: An automated flush set off. What it gets set off by is a great mystery.

He was traumatised, because the p.flush in this case was particularly strong, and he was having a runny. Look- just a tip. If you're thinking of settling down for some time on the pot, just moisten a piece of paper, tissue or whatever to obscure the sensor. And obviously you don't moisten it with anything from the pot or whatever you're ubnleashing into it lah. Unless you enjoy a certain splishie splashed feeling.. in that case i tell you to stay far, far away from moi.

Deceit street.

Let me pose a question to you- If you had an opportunity to try and make things ethically right, but in the process, lose friendships, would you?

When is it right to do right? Must we always decide on the pros and cons when trying to decide if having values are desirable? Do we always have to form committees and have a general consensus to do anything that is near and dear to our heart? What ever happened to doing the right thing even when it hurts? Did the price of sowing the seeds of disparity get too harsh when your peers started looking at you with different eyes because certain things just aren't for compromise?

More and more i find that the illusion of having choice, of having free will; whether personal or socially, is slowly dissipating under the harsh questioning of my inner voice. (just the one, thanks) The question? Why do i have to choose an option? I remember there was a time i had rights.

Whether its the right to breathe the air i want, or to voice the thoughts i have;
the right to say i love you as a friend, but your behaviour makes me want to lose lunch;
the right to say that i feel your behavious is noxious, that in the process you're degrading yourself! (why can't you see it yourself?? )
The right to finally tell you that if you still want me as a friend, i'll always be there for you.

I also realise- you have every right to walk away from all these years we've shared, to turn away from me, and walk down that long , dark street of yours.

For the 14th, an ode.

Listening to: Burn
Usher


I love dempsey road more and more! The cool air, the extensive wine lists, the nice accomodating warden at the carpark. A smile opens such doors -lol!

Seriously now, i'm thinking.
*gasps*
Don't look so surprised, i do indulge in it once in a while, in between gracefully being the world's biggest klutz.

Last night something was said, and i'm still thinking about it. A comment that she had never fallen for anyone. Not even an infatuatiuon. Whoa.
That's a serious, very encompassing statement you've got there.
She looks over, and states that that's the way it is.
Are you straight i ask?
Beat.
She turns around and looks me in the eyes.
Geez- ask a simple question...
Ok, fine, fine, i raise my hands in surrender.You're straight.
But what a statement, sweetheart.

I think... love, as with genuine happiness, can only be fully reaped afer revealing seperation. Just when i thought i had no capacity, didn't have it in me to fully give myself to anyone, and despaired of ever knowing that elusive emotion first hand, epiphany. My past relationships have been so blessed that i took them for granted. That's why i was always restless, always seeking something new, always looking past the proffered hand. Just as a child can only appreciate his mother after being apart from her, so only can love be illuminated in our midsts. The subtlest beauties in out life go unheard, unseen.

The most powerful symptom of love is a tenderness which becomes at times almost insupportable. ~ by Victor Hugo ~

Flabbergasted.

Listening to: How's life
The observatory

I dont know what to say.

I lost my wallet and had to go to the bank this morning.
Furnished my police report and bank book.
Nice lady behind the counter smiles charmingly and what she says next floors me.
"Im sorry ma'am. Without a picture id, we can't give you an ATM card, but we can allow you to withdraw any amt."

I do a double take, a triple take, and repeat what she says. She smiles, shrugs and says its company policy.

Im greatly comforted by this policy to prevent theft of my hard earned moolah.

Frickkin red tape.

Lucid dreams.

It's been some time since i've been struck by my dreams when i wake. I've learnt to tune out most. Here are a few bitty odds.

The first dream.

The most disturbing part?
We're test trying equiptment in a barnyard. It's the first time i pilot something. I get on a plane with May from work, and i accidentally hit something which releases a bomb. It kills 94 people in a village. May volunteers to takes the blame, and we get off scott free. It results in tremendous guilt. Later i get a blueprinit of just how extensive the destruction was.
Why 94?

How strange. Whenever death in my dreams occurs with numbers, chances are i'll wake up really disturbed. Hmmmm. *ponders* If i strike anything, you guys will be the last to know ;p

The second dream
Damn- i've remembered it for the whole morning and half the night and i forget it when i want to write it down. Wait..ok. Here goes.
My sister's fiance catches me in the bathroom about to shower. I scream, and my mother gets him out of the bathroom.
NOTE: the man throughout used to be a physician i worked with. Tall, nerdy, nice hands, christian. I was never attracted to him at any point.
Later i go thru a tea ceremony with my husband, but i don't know who he is yet. Dinner proceeds. Dreams within dreams. I remember in my dream that i had offered to help my mother-in-law to strip the leaves of the spinach for the dinner. The leaves are covered with maggots, and i desist. While looking at the leaves, the mother-in-law is at once both herself and my own biological mother. The other women gossip over my chosen choice of veg. It's an inauspicious choice.

Next scene

Im on the red hall carpet with my mother in law. We discuss the church wedding and when it should be held. I get up to walk, and realise there are 4 bobby pins stuck in my left sole. I pick them out gingerly, and realise there are bobby pins strewn all over the carpet. I bend to pick them out so no one else will get hurt.. I realise at this point who my husband is. Although i was never attraced to him, suddenly i am filled with such tenderness and warmth, i marvel to myself, lucid while dreaming. I feel also a sharp pain in my tongue. I open my mouth, and i find 2 bobby pins stuck in the side of my tongue They protrude out onto the other side . I pull them out, one by one. My husband comes out of the bedroom fresh, desirable, *nerdy*, steps onto the carpet and guides me through the pins. A feeling of total contentment, yet inevitability.

I really, really hate having disturbing dreams which i can't understand. The last time i dreamt about playing in the hospital. My grandmother and i were in a lift, and we were trying to catch up with someone, but no matter how many lifts we took, we were always too late. There was a horrible sense of urgency about the dream,, and i was so disturbed, i cld not function. A day later my grandfather passed away. Coincidence? Or my own imagination? I don't know. I only know i shouldn't fuck around with my dreams.

Realise at this point i either come across as just plain wierd or really disturbed-lol! Either way, you should realise that dreams are more than your mind's way of sorting out information at the end of the day.

Drink me in

Here i am to be savoured,
Here i am alone.
Don't say im beautiful
Don't say im not ready,
Put your hand on my heart
Just feel me wanting you
Set your eyes on mine
Just see my need
Bend a little lower
Come a little closer
Let this be a little sweeter
Let this last a little longer.

So much to say, so inadequately equipped to express it.

I hate floaty feelings . *mumble grumble*

I'm not exactly a big fan of birthdays either.

You Are 21 Years Old

21 Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

Um. *coughs*

So i'm regressing. How strange. I always thought i was born an old lady. You know what scares me? All my life, i've been the one with the common sense. The one who keeps quiet and thinks before offering the grown up option.. When the option list on forms started me on the same check box as "25-35 yrs of age" however, i think i got a little panicky

Now what worries me is that i've been trying to out act my age. It's not too late to do something about it now, but it'll be a damned silly sight to see a 35 year old woman trying to act 26 later on. So now i'm not afraid to wear pink, and im not afraid to say i think mashi maro is a bunny i'd love to snuggle up to. Regression or progress? I have no idea. I had a talk about this with sheron, and we both agree.. The older we get, the less we think it's a weakness to act like a woman, and we get more "ta" .

Men get it all. You get a paunch? Call it posterity. Balding? An extra dose of manliness you say, i've got more testosterone. Hitting 40? Don't worry hun, it's legal for you to get it on with a slip of a thing half your age. Take care of your heart and you'll be all set to go with viagra and cialis. Yayy. Don't get me wrong. I love men. I don't burn my bras, i love support in all forms. I just love objectivity more.

I don't do little boys.

I did i little test..Apparently my porno star name is..get this.. *drum rolls*

My Porn Star Name is: Auntie Tata

Okay, i'm starting to annoy myself right now. Have an auspicious start to the lunar new year dearies! *MUACKZZ*

And yet another one..

You Are the Very Gay Winnie the Pooh!

Come on, he doesn't wear pants! And he's a little too obsessed with Christopher Robin

What Gay Childhood Icon Are You?

W.T.F?

Another test thingie.

You Are A Realistic Romantic

You are more romantic than 70% of the population. It's easy for you to get swept away by romance... But you've done a pretty good job keeping perspective. You're still taken in by love poems and sunsets You just don't fall for every dreamy pick up line!

Are You Romantic or Realistic?

Im getting carried away. Im waiting for my ride for lunch, so bear with me :)

Breathers.

Listening to: At last
Cyndi Lauper

My god- this is so terribly romantic! Just had to get the lyrics.

At last my love has come along
my lonely days are over and life is like a song
At last the skies above are blue
my heart was wrapped up in clover the night I looked at you

I found a dream that I could speak to
a dream that I could call my own
I found a thrill to press my cheek to
a thrill that I have never known
You smile you smile oh and then the spell was cast
and here we are in heaven
for you are mine at last
I found a dream that I could speak to
a dream that I could call my own
I found a thrill to press my cheek to
a thrill that I have never known
You smile you smile oh and then the spell was cast
and here we are in heaven
for you are mine at last
at last at last

*swoons*

I can finally take a breather from work since this particular protocol is over. Still look tired, but my sheets have seldom looked this tempting and im going to make full use of them the next two days. I feel like at present my life has come to a little standstill. No spectacularly major changes for a couple of months now, just small amusements and concerns that were nothing except pesky. My next two will be coming in a bit, so its rest, rest, rest for me. What to do, being an old lady zaps you of your energy. I just hope i don't get any more fool subjects who come in shouting," i saw you on friendster!" while im trying my darndest to act professional. Its bloody embarrassing i tell ya. I swear they look at you thru different eyes after that. It's bizarre, considering that i've got my pooftah poodle's pic uploaded. i know i bear a certain resemblance to my pet but...this is just a bit much.

Another thing that amused me recently..I got the come on from two nice people at this place. Nothing strange about that, except.. its been some time since anyone thought i was a passive. Yes, they were both..urm..women. Well.. the same sex as i am at any rate. Lol- Perhaps i shld start going to mad monk's, or winebar on tuesdays ;p

I have a question... Is it possible to fall for someone, even thought it defies logic, and breaks all the rules you've set for yourself? To only concentrate on the person, the man he tries to be, and the man that he already is? To not take note of the practical aspects that women are trained to meticulously sift for, but just.. enjoy him the way he is? Either way it's a moot point, and an ache that gets a little hard. Again i distance myself, because that is my safest option.

Galvanised?

Shall i write what's on my mind with no heed for repercussions today?

Every little bit was desirable, every effort to stand furthur away like my limbs were steeped in lead. The sound of his voice-an ignition which needed no key or physical form.. The looks he gave me..a formless caress while the heat of the day carried to me the myrth of his smell. In fear or arousal, the body's flight or fight senses are activated. Senses heightened, heart beats faster, all the better to rush the oxygen to my brain, and to the other major organs. Adrenaline brings a rush to my cheeks, to the hollow between my collar bones, to my lips. Plumped, rouged and primed. Ready, aim... *bang* Lust always was quite the marksman. Unfortunately for him, i can be an undeniably pragmatic frigid bitch. Yayy. Go me.

Off to thumper for the night. As i check my reflection in the mirror one last time, i think to myself that there is no reason to deny myself, deny pleasure, and continue with my sabbatical. As i close the door on a darkened empty house, i think to myself that there will always be reasons.

~*baby*~you've got to try harder, even when its hard to try

Listening to: Baby
Bebel Gilberto

Im aggravated.

What is it about cabbies who blast religious music in their cab? Take this morning's uncle. I come in, and after 15 mins, ask if he can switch to an english station. He turns around, and tells me it is an english station. Um. Small prob. Im more stressed than i thought if i can't even differentiate between my mother tongue, and prayer chants. I give him my look. "it's class 95" he retorts. I point out that they don't play certain music on class 95. He strains to listen, spends the next 5 mins gushing about class 95, and tunes it to an english channel. It's... the perfect 10. Uh huh.

Pretty upset about the story that was told to me by my darling duo today. Transparency is sad to see when people put in effort to prevent the exact opposite. I little while ago i wrote about wishing for the purity of relationships and friendships. I read a little something from hannibal, the follow up to silence of the lambs which i think is very apt at this point. I quote," Wish in one hand, and shite in the other. Which gets filled up first?"

I think that... making a decision for a sabbatical from relationships for a year was a good call. 6 more mths to go. Its made me have no choice but to stand up and face certain things on my own, as opposed to unwittingly hiding behind some human security blanket. Sure its a little hard, but lots of things are, and what doesn't kill me... :)