If there is any ONE beauty secret (or maybe it's already a widely known fact) that I've uncovered ever since I've started working, it will be one that has something to do with coffee.

All of us workaholics knows that drinking coffee helps to perk us up so that we wont produce chicken doodles while working: Americano, Cappucino, Kopi-peng, Kopi-C, Kopi-cino, you name it, the Indian Coffee Shop uncle downstairs have it, so I've probably tried about every type of coffee there is.

But in a bid to reduce my (unnecessary) sugar intake lately, so that i can save it for 3 double chocolate doughnuts sometime later in the week, I've resorted to consuming HOT, BLACK coffee WITHOUT sugar or milk religiously. Amazing as it is, I've found out that not only it perks me up, increase my heart rate by about 5X, causes me to slightly hyperventilate, it also does wonders for my water retention.

So lets say I go to work in the morning with a puffy left eye and cheek, or slightly swollen belly, all due to water retention, by drinking the HOT, BLACK coffee with no sugar or milk, it'll all subside within the hour.

Similarly, it does wonders for photoshoots. I always have the problem of bloatedness due to water retention if the studio gets a lil too cold, or that I'm prancing around in tiny barely-there garbs, I'll take a shot of that and it works beautifully all the time. That's why DP always indulge in my horrible habit of drinking black unsweetened coffee (even if it gives me stink-O breath after that). Oh but the only downside is that I might get a lil woozy from all that caffeine high.

But I seriously swear by that poison to make me skinny.

BOYS...

I'm depressed on the Boyfriend's birthday.

I promised him that I'll try to cheer up for his sake, but I can't.

Y? Because I've been working so much that I didn't manage to get him a present.

Sure I made reservations at 5 places that I stumbled upon while looking for places to hold my media events/press conferences. 5 nice places with fine dining style cuisine and attas ambience. I told myself that finally, now that I am working, now that I have a stable income, now that I am no longer ad-hoc jobs as a model trying to earn pocket money while juggling school work, I can finally treat my mao cow to somewhere nice. Finally. But I left out the present.

But alas, I'm stuck in front of the damn computer doing a fuckened media list, for a pointless project (in my personal opinion), which is due tomorrow morning, first thing at 9am.
After which as in after the media list, I'll be doing up a goddamn Proposal for a nation-wide campaign that will most certainly be gunned down by the boss once it reaches the office in the morning. Which more or less translates to : I'll only get to sleep at 4am.

It's hard to be happy when you are tired. It's hard to be happy when you love your job, but hates the company. It's hard to be happy when you want to do so much for someone who has given you so much love, but you are just too tired to do anything. And it's really hard ot be happy if you were doing a fuckened media list at 2am.

SPeaking of whom (the boyfriend), for all of you who knows me personally, knows that the bf is particular about cleanliness. Yours truly, however isn't.
So it's always a case of him nagging at me to not drop crumbs on the floor, not to get my hands sticky with Coke, not to eat food that has fallen onto the table, to wear the clean slippers in his house, to change into clean clothes before climbing into bed yada yada. It's always him who makes a big fuss out of a coackroach sighting (and for my sake, I shall insist that he doens't yelp when he sees insects), him who always had an issue about me leaning on lift walls etc.

In a nutshell, him = clean, neat
me = dirty, unkempt, disorganized

But surprisingly, my bf is not meticulous about washing his face.

The other day, I caught him applying pimple cream to a spot on his look-slightly oily face. Immediately, i asked him if he had washed his face.

This was his reply," Oh yes, I washed the spot where the pimple is, because you told me I had to wash my face before applying pimple cream."

BOYS...

When I curse someone with so much hatred, with so much concentration, with so much ferosity, that person will usually bear the brunt of it, mysteriously.

Remember the last time I cursed a certain sleaze shop agent who tried to pimp me off, I cursed he'll get inflicted with a horrible painful disease and die a horrible, painful death. Well the last I heard of him, was that he got struck with some cancer. Too bad the 2nd part didnt come true, but well the first part did.

And now, with my powerful, intensive, evil hatred, I summon thee all the shit from the sewers and rubbish from the entire Mustafa area into your mouth. Hope you choke on rubbish everyday and explode.

And if you fucking don't pay me the amount that we agreed on after so much trouble, I'll send EIGHT BIG, BLACK, and HAIRY bangrahs from Mustafa area in replacement of the 8 gorgeous models that you asked for. I'll just go down one lunch time to round 'em all up and ask the Prasad from my dad's office to ship them down. Or even better, round up the bunch of bangrahs from my dad's construction site.

You can be assure of a hell of a time when they canoodle up to you with their contrastingly bright smile and warm personality.

Seriously. go fuck yourself and die man.

I am just hoping that I won't regret this for the rest of my life.

I JUST REJECTED AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT FROM GUCCI.

Yes, it's that GUCCI, Gucci. The brand that China pirates extensively.

They called me regarding my application to do in-house PR for them. THEY ACTUALLY CALLED!!!! :P:P:P:P

But guess what, I was just made an associate today, and I felt bad leaving my company, especially after the boss has been so nice to me.

So I said, "Uh ummm, actually, ummm you called too late. I found a job."

I almost ripped my hair out when I said that. Why do they take so freaking long to call me?!?!?! I could have been sitting in a civil-servant-ish job, that's 9 to 5, being situated in a department of resource-wasting PR department, doing paper work, yet I chose to slave in a PR firm....Just what am I thinking....I just wish I won't live to regret this forever, especially when the going gets tough.


Oh btw, while researching for a paper on pop-culture, I finally found out the meaning of O.P.P....hurhurhur.

I AM PISSED. FUCKING, BOILING, OVER-FLOWINGLY pissed.

And I'm glad I do not get such clients for accounts in my day job. At least not yet.

But there is a certain fat, pompous bastard/piece of shit who really pisses the hell out of me.

Becasue he is indecisive, tee kor, stingy and just bloody likes to waste everyone's time.

For one thing, casting = choosing models that fit the image your company wants to portray. AND IF YOU WANT TO SEE MODELS FOR 5 times before you select them, then you please jolly well need to pay. Even LG or Samsung do not go through sooo many girls to do their booth.

If you want Russian models, you need to pay MORE. Even the Russian prostitute in Geylang charges a MUCH higher rates than the normal PRC whores. Not that I'm associating myself with the hussies; the point is that, they come with a different price tag. Period.

If you want diversity, choose Indians, choose Malays, whatever....Yet as an indian himself, he rejected all the indian models brought to him, and slammed all the Malay models (even I dont understand the racial discrimination here). I have for him, Korean, Thai, Dutch, Indonesian, even MOngolian, on top of the usual chinese fare, what more does he want??!!

And at the end of the day, you are not the only one who is BUSY. Taking a rain cheque on our casting for 4 times the last minute is quite frigging irritating already. Not to mention the leaves that people take in order to come to let you assess them, the hee hee hor hor and telling your staff you forgot how they look like, and ask them to come again. You've seen too many girls, and you are just seeing for sport.

One day you say you like this girl, the next day you say the same girl is not pretty...

You are not choosing a bride for GOD's sake, or someone to suck your dick, for that matter.

It's just a company's ambassador.

And for that, I curse you to go eat shit and die

手贱

This glorious term is more commonly manifested in Hokkien, and it's pronounced as "Chiu Jian". For the benefit of those non-Hokkien speakers, when you say that a person is 手贱/chiu jian, you are saying that the person has itchy fingers, is meddlesome, and KPO.

Chiu Jian is when you were young, despite your mother's repeated warnings not to touch that boiling pot of water on the stove, you had to have a go at touching the shiney metallic surface of the pot. You end up burning your hands and you cry, even though you know that your mother told you that you will. That is being Chiu Jian.

It is also when you were in your adolescence, and had a small tiny pimple somewhere hidden, but you are going on a date the next day with the boy you've been eyeing for eons. So despite knowing that the pimple is innocuous, and that popping zits are a big no-no, you just had to have a go at it. In the end, the pimple got bigger, redder and angrier looking, and you could feel the boy of your dreams talking to the pimple everytime he looks at your face, and the dream bubble being pricked.

That is Chiu Jian. Meddlesome. Itchy hands. And I'm a damn bloody Chiu Jian person.

Because recently, as part of my quest to becoming a domestic goddess, the bf bought me a sewing machine as a gift, at my request. A small, white, portable electric sewing machine by BROTHER, all for me to conquer. It was a really cool gadget, and my brain immediately churned out a sewing agenda the moment I laid my eyes on it.

Without first signing up for some sewing course at the Community Club near my house, I nose-dived right into my new found hobby, and I set out to 'beautify' the existing clothings that I have.

I took comfort in the idea that I wasn't exactly the type that had no sewing skills, despite breaking 3 FAT needles on a sewing machines in 1 hour during HOme Econs class in Secondary School, that I had to pay a fine of $1.50 ($0.50 for each needle that I broke)after that. I tagged the hem of my school skirt when I was in JC, so that my skirt was substantially shorter than the "nerdier" girls; I sewed on extra paddings onto my old Bikinis to build something upon nothingness, and I used to mend all the popped buttons on my clothes, by hand, all the time.

So I told myself, hey if I could do all that by hand in the past, why not by machine? And who cares about the stitches at the back of the cloth, nobody's going to see them anyway. And all I was doing was nipping in a little of the cloth here, and sewing a little there. Nothing too difficult.

Turned out that the beautifying effort wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Perhaps I was a little too ambitious, and cut up a bit too much cloth, but mostly I was just very chiu jian. The clothes that I took to mend were mostly already fine in their original state, but I just had to "change the straps a little to make it sexier", "cut the skirt shorter", "pull in the waist, so I'll look less like I'm swimming in it". Meddlesome, itchy hands. A few of the attempts ended in success, like the tube top from Victoria's Secrets, that I had to take 3 inches from each side, so that it wraps around my bosom nicely without slipping down to a free-for-all show, and my mother's boring satin top which I sewed on black lace to sexify it; most of my 'subject' clothes ended up strewn all over my room in a tragic sort of way.

Chiu Jian-ess is like an infliction. It never goes away. And I never learn from my lessons.

And in case you were wondering, I was recounting my experience as a kid and as a teenager, with my aforementioned examples of itchy fingers.

I have been faerie struck since about 2 years ago because I was enamoured with Arwen and Eowyn from LOTR. Or more specifically, their hair, like that...




After contemplating for about 2 whole years, and asking almost everyone to cast their vote for my hair to be straight or curly, I finally gave in to temptation...

Straight hair yesterday...


Curls today...


Yayness~