I think it's pretty sad, when a guy looks like an ah niang.

SKinny, lanky, , mummy's lil' baby, wimpy-looking ah niang.

But I think it's more sad, if the guy, who once looked like an ah niang,
went for a total makeover, buffed himself up etc, and end up looking like an

AH GUA


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.
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I need to do something about my thighs. Actually my whole body. Bumming around hasn't been good for the beauty conscience. I don't even suck in my tummy these days. Too lazy. But in order to fit into that pair of skinny mango jeans that I've been eyeing since the sale, I've gotta work hard.

I wanna look like this.



I need to stop stuffing my face with food. And now that the BF has steered clear of things with "trans-fat" (godknowswhatsthat), I should too.
Strict diet, some excercise, more sleep, early bedtime.

And MAYBE, just a tinge of hope, that from the back, with a fleeting glance, I'll look like VB in skinnies.


PS: The pair of skinnies that I bought for $20 in Taiwan grew so fucking loose that it looks like 2 cylinders encasing my thighs. I wonder how did that happen...

PPS: Which brings me to another thought...How come all the shirts that I buy from Thailand all shrink to a baby size har?? Then all the clothes that were bought in Taiwan, got stretched and expanded so much that it can pass off as a Dorothy Perkins size 14 har???

WHY WHY WHY???

The month of June and July is a good month to earn money. After all the agents and blas have paid up for my various stints, I'm reasonably richer by alot. But alas, the month of June and July also happened to be the month when you always feel you need more new clothes,makeup,bags,shoes,FOOD and whatnots. And so you will spend a large portion of your hard earn money on things that you don't even remember spending on. Budden like I say, June and July is the month when the jobs you get pay well, and they are aplety. So you can afford to ask some gormless agents from some affiliated agency from whoknowswhere to piss off when they offer you a $15/hr pay. Hurhurhur...

Here I'm whoring the newest pictures. I'm so gonna add them to my portfolio. Hurhurhur....

The bedroom series--by Anthony












Anyhoo, I just went for my 1st ever job interview at M1. Reached there at 9am, and I ended the grueling sessions of quizzes, personality tests, logic and maths tests, grammer test, comprehension test, blabla shit tests and interview at 3pm. Phew.
But what made me really pissed off was the womaan at the interview actually interrogated me for about an hour, and finally at the end, told me I lack maturity aand I'm a messy person. All from the way I wote my scripts and cancelled out the errors. Bollocks!. Eh if she wanted to be so dismissive, she didn't have to interrogate me for a whole fucking hour. Just look at my quiz scripts then send me away lor.
And later she limplied that I looked too young for the job of a trainer, hence unable to command the respect of my trainees, whm according to her, would all be in their early to late 30s. If they thought the compan had sent a kid, who would give a shit. Also according to her, a trainer needs to be calm, but from the way I wrote my essay which was full of cancellation, and from the way I had cancelled out my name because the application form had specifically stated that I have to print my name in block letters which I did not in my first attempt, I am not a very composed person.

What a bitch. As for my interview, they told us right from the start that if we dont hear from them in 2 weeks time, we are not qualified for the next round. I needn't wait for 2 weeks. I could feel it being flushed down the toilet bowl as I took a piss in the buildings toilet after the whole shitty interview.

More coverletters and resumes....

Fuck the Fucking Casino

I just came back from a trip to Genting with the boyfriend.

I usually hate to go Malaysia. The flies, the smelly like shit toilets and the lousy shopping with ugly fashion there, and the bloody hot weather that is even hotter than Singapore. And the chinky Ah bengs. I find all of it repulsive. But Genting is different. Although chinese Malaysia Ah Bengs still roam that place, the cold air up in the hills was a cheaper and more viable alternative to New Zealand anytime soon. And plus, I've hit the goddamn 21 mark about a year ago, and going on 22, and yet I haven't been to a casino. I've heard that the chips in the Genting Casion run as low as 5RM per chip at the Roulette table.

Budden as I have learnt, going to the casino was a wrong move. So was trying to recoup one's losses by trying one's luck at the Casino's slot machines. Those pretty, slot machines with flashy neon lights. Those are an endless pit, a deep abyss that pumps you try, as you feed it with more and more money in hope of hitting the jackpot. And if there is the 14,000 jackpot waiting to be won, it means that many idiots like me have pumped in $14,000 and walked away without a single cent. Knowing that, the bf and I still got tempted to try at the Jackpot, and we lost 50RM in just one sitting at the bloody jackpot.

The night before, we were playing Roulette, and I must say, although the stakes were higher at 5RM min per game, the chances of us winning were much higher. That is if you can do the maths properly, and you have that bit of luck. Because every dealer has a fixed pattern of flipping the ball, chances are one could follow a pattern to make a winning. But the wiley casino has a system of changing the dealer every hour or so, as such any patterns observed before hand is systematically forfeited. Fuck!
And that night, we went to the casino really late, at about 2am, and they had to close the tables at 3. So just after we had grandly made a loss of about 100RM at the roulette table, and were just about to start recouping losses, they had to close the table, and the bf and I were left to wander about aimlessly in the casino looking for new and interesting things to put our itchy hands on. So we tried the slot machine lor. And then like that lor, and the like that we press and press and press and suddenly 50RM is gone.

All in all, the fucking casino earned almost 200 RM from us. Budden, I'm damn glad that I wasn't in Vegas. In Vegas the minimum bet for 1 chip is 10USD i heard. And that is damn bloody chor, especially if you are unemployed and are living on modelling money, which a few of your agents have not paid up.

Will be posting my Genting pics soon. It wasn't that bad a trip, really, apart from the bad bus rides to and fro, the place swarming with rude, fat and pompous Arabs with their whole wife-children-concubine entourage clad in black, cheesy magic shows and over-charged meals, it was a nice holiday. Because it was nice and chilly (a bit like new zealand, with a lot of imagination), and the bf did not have to entertain too many sms-es from those buyers of his.

Graduation

I've decided that this day is so fussed over (by me) that it deserves a mentioning in my recently empty blog.

I've officially graduated.

To tell the truth, it's really a Happy-Sad feeling. I love being called an NUS undergraduate. I love the student discounts that you get when you produce the NUS matric card. I love it that I only "function" for 3-4 days out of a week, because my academic timetable is always arranged to be such. And I love it that I can trample the central walkway in my pretty heels and mini skirt everyday, and feel completely at ease.

But most of all, I love my teachers and friends, whom I have learnt so many things directly or indirectly. I love my subject, and how in NUS, it opened my mind to show me how it's actually not a stuffy, boring antiquated subject that is meant for professors with thick specs and long dusty nose (from burying inside the thick history books). I love the school. I dunno what else I love, but I love it.

But enough of my love for my alma matter. This post is about my graduation.

Yea, so that day began with a frenzy in the house when my parents and my brother were busying themselves with ironing their 'Sunday Bests'. It was a blitering hot day, and I could feel my carefully made up face craking under the heat. I had taken care not to put too much make up, but just enough to portray that rosy cheeked, fresh-faced graduate look. Okie, but the stupid singapore heat had to mess it up, so that by the time I put on the motarboard (ie the square hat), my hair was already sticking to my face, and I wasn't looking so fresh faced liao.


Me. The Reluctant Graduate.



That's me on the stage being award the scroll. Which my lil' brother destroyed shortly after I came out of the hall.



Pwah!!! Bitch fight! Actually this is the work of le brother. SOmehow he stupidly, irritatingly twisted some fibre inside the scroll after he held it in his hands for 10 minutes, and afterwhich I couldn't open it. And that's us trying to force it open.



Still trying...



And then when it burst open, the inside was almost pulverized. Thanks ah...I'll make sure I destroy his scroll in about 15 years time. And see? The big kukunaden had the cheek to be cheering in the background.


But complaints aside, it was still a heart-warming event, a commemoration of the 3 years, I've spent in Uni, as one of the best years in my life. No kidding. There were friends, who made it so fun to go to school, although nerdy me likes going to school to study anyway...



That's Eileen, and together we have a favourite common gossip topic. It's too private to mention here though. And she's the ONLY nice JCRC in hall. She got honours oKAY!!!!



That's the group I always have history classes with. And in some tutorials, we surf internet, look at clothes, look at dunnowhatcock stuff and laugh over caricatures of a certain somebody. Okie I better hope that no lecturers read my blog now...That's Laurence, Jacelyn, me, yirang and Lay peng



This is Akbar, whom I will always remember as the one who wanted to work in Ministry Of Manpower to catch the illegal Bangrahs...Hummm


Not to forget my fellows within the Al-Qaeda and Soviet network, hurhurhur...budden those are too smart, and they need to do honours to justify their brains la. So they only graduate next year(with HONOURS; I'm graduating with MERIT ONLY), and so no grad photos with them.
Pity, my favourite lecturers weren't there to take pictures with me, and although Lockhart is really nice, but I didn't do so well for his modules that I don't dare to ask him for a picture.

Oh and my bestie, Laura deserves a whole section all by herself. Because I didn't tell her that I was commencing because I only had 2 tickets, and I thought it would be quite cock to ask her down only to tell her that there were no seats for her. But she came down anyway and made me very very very happy. See, this is what best friends are like...She offered to be with you in significant stags of your lives. Wah so touched that she came down all the way by MRT just for me to take pictures with her. I mean really thanks alot babe! To show that i really appreciate it, I have to put alot of her pictures here.


Here's to Laura who tolerated alot of my nonsense through out our years in school. Hey we've always been in the same school since we became best friends!!! But really, I was rreally over the moon/sun/mars when you sms-ed me to say you didnt want to miss it.




We had memorable moments during UNion Camps here, and I remembered her coming over to arts during one lunch time. We had yoghurt and talked about sad stuffs. Tee Heeh...



And zhiyou who has stood by me through thick and thin, big and small, bad mood mornings, smelly breaths, and embarrassing farts. I envisioned him at my graduation when we first got together, and here he is! E-appy. I love my Mao mao!


I'm not supposed to show this picture, but what the hell, it's funny. He looks funny. Heeh.


See, I'm Happy...Yay! And I look Pretty!!!


And then, there is my family. Coincidentally, it was my lil' brother's bday as well that day.
After all that we've been through, Mummy, Daddy, I've finally graduated!!! Although I am still miserably unemployed now, at least you don't have to worry about footing my school fees of a fucking 6000 plus each year. Hurhurhur...






I love my Daddy. Strangely, I'm not one of those girls who are very close to their moms. Throughout my growing up years, I've always felt that my dad was my pillar of strength, my role model, and I've always thought he was easier to confide in.
Not that I don't love my mom, but she never seemed to be the kind of woman I'd wanna grow up to be. So I am closer to my dad.



Okie this toilet is memorable because I OCCASIONALLY steal toilet paper from here to supply my own diminishing stock back in hall.




And I'll defitely miss the quiet corridors of my department, which I'll occassionally troop in to hand in my papers, or sneak in to hand in my very late papers, or drag my feet in to collect those papers which I didn't think I did so well, or meekly glide through to see my various lecturers abouot various things. I cannot remember if I've ever mentioned that the history department has no lift, and yet it's at the highest level in the building. I think that the school thinks that history is at the opposite end of technology, hence we don't get lifts. %#$@!!!




It's been a long time since I uploaded pictures in my blog. And this entry really took sooo long to blog. So read it slowly and appreciate it okay... Read it again if you really like it...and again. Cos it really took me damn long to load all those photos.

THANK GOD IS FRIDAY!!!!

Friday means the end of Communicasia 2007. This year I had the fortune/misfortune/fortune in disguise of working for Sony Ericsson. The girls whom I worked with were really lovely people. It was just too bad that our costume this year sucked, and we had no way to compete with those models from SAMSUNG and LG. And plus, we had to be there earlier than most, left later than most (because of some dumb-fucked debrief everyday idunnoforwhat), and we were paid less.

Paid less means less enthusiasm, less makeup (because makeup is expensive) and no fake eyelashes. Oh and ermm messy hair. Siao...as I was complaining the whole week, if you had to wake up at 7.30am everyday would you zhng your hair nicely? I wouldn't unless they paid me a bomb. And have I already mentioned, uniform ugly, face very nice also no use. PLus pay less means no touch up of make up after lunch. So those media that caught me after my lunch break, well too bad for me lor...

Budden there were advantages to my ugly lab-like costume. For one, the white blazer kept us warm while all other girls from other companies were shivering in their skin. We got to wear sneakers (because 4 days of exhibition on heels is A KILLER), and because our uniforms were so un-glam and un-modelly, we could pass off as staff, albeit very young ones. So I actually put that to my advantage, because when a certain someone from my ex-agency came up to me, I told her I was a staff from SE, and not a model.

Apart from the being slaved promoter style and media-whored by the company, and looking ugly, I'm happy it's froday because it means I am finally moving home. Throughout the whole exhibition period, it made sense to stay at ZY's place because he stayed sooooo near the expo. BUDDEN it's very stressful to stay at his house.

It's stressful enough to have so many rules at work. THen when you come back home, there seemed to be more 'cleanliness' rules. Something about the correct angle of the slippers in the kitchen, the hallway, the correct direction of the tap to use, the towels, the 'dirty' and 'clean' rules, having to wash your hands with dettol for touching every nitty things. Urghh i swear I can go crazy here.

Sure, I do appreciate that he and his parents really took care of me while I was there, but me being me, I hate rules. Period. And I cannot even hug Xiaobai after I've bathed because he's considered dirty. I cannot remember rules, especially those small minute details that I took for granted. Plus 'cleanliness' in his house is defined in microscopic terms. So although I have been to his house 108439424 times, I can never manage to remember what is what and how is how.

So I am glad...

I got quite substantial moolah just by doing nuthin' but sleep on my bed till half past 12 today. The photographer whom I had scheduled a shoot with called in at about 10 to cancel the shoot for some other appointments. I would have been in a raging fit and Kaobei nonstop if someone just fly my aeroplane last minute like that, but because he pacified me by nicely initiated that he compensate me via IB tmr morning, I was sweetly lulled back to sleep after sms-ing him my bank account.

So I decided to do something nice today. I cooked a feast for my dad and baby-sitted my lil' brother by bringing him out for grocery shopping and to eat shilin oyster meesua.

Oh and we bought big fresh strawberries for Daddy-kins. because I told ma lil' bro that we'd be cooking a father's day dinner for my dad in advance. My lil bro was so excited that he came out with wacky ideas for the party. In the end we settle for strawberry jelly cheescake.

Tampex Sucks, O.B. by J&J rules.

You want updates? You got updates!!!

Oh or did you mean my reaction to a certain..... LETTER?

You want to know if I cursed and swear and tore out my hair over that little piece of 'threat' that you thought was smart of you?

Too bad for you, not much excitment as you thought it would ignite.

I simply handed it to the police.

We'll hear from them soon.



Basically, nothing much...

Oh and btw, don't need to use this kind of I know where you stay kinda shit to scare me. I hardly go home.
And anonymous.com doesn't work

*BURP*

And just to let people who are very intersted in my blog know, I am pretty well connected. Policeman, MOE officers, NIE lecturers, journalists, lawyers, etc.
*Ponders for a second) Hmmm maybe not losers. No I don't remember any losers.... Yea defintely no losers.

I know it's unfair... Too bad.

**BURPS**