tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290934172024-03-14T07:42:42.741+08:00inspiredClarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.comBlogger463125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-22619001887771637502019-11-20T07:02:00.000+08:002019-11-20T07:13:31.574+08:00Inappropriate behaviourMost of my friends know that I love survivor. I've been a fan since the second season (I know, why not season 1? Blame MediaCorp for not airing it back then.) I thought Colby was mentally deficient for bringing Tina to the final 2 and I thought he regressed even more in heroes vs villains. I loved how Ozzy and Yul dominated in Cook Islands with a decimated tribe due to a mutiny. I am a little straight for Boston Rob and his amazing intellect and physicality. Thankfully, Parvati gets me all straightened out (get the pun?) with her charm and ability to win all endurance challenges. I cried when that trans guy got outed and I got hella uncomfortable last episode when the #metoo movement got highlighted during the game.<br />
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No. This post is not about survivor. The entire paragraph is a segue to how inappropriate behaviour never seems to get punished. Whether it be in real life, or under a microscopic lens in a show where every single action is documented within an inch of its life.<br />
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For those who aren't fans, or who are but are unable to watch because the powers that be in our free to air broadcasting do not deem the show to be a viable one to air, here's the breakdown:<br />
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Privileged older guy keeps touching the young girls. One in particular takes offense and speaks to him about it early on in the game. He continues his touching. Girl in question luckily gets switched to another tribe and is spared his attentions. Both makes it to the merge where he proceeds to pick up where he left off and continues touching her and other girls. All the girls discuss about it and share war stories about how they too, are uncomfortable. Another alpha girl gets wind that she might get voted off and use this situation as gameplay and rallies the other girls to blindside the original victim (cos she's a legit threat as well) out of the game. The oldest woman there who considers herself a mother hen is in an alliance with the old creep but is so outraged by the allegations, she decides to cast her vote for him because the other girls told her to whilst keeping her in the dark about the blindside. Cut to the next episode where the older woman is understandably upset by the crossing of ethical lines and men telling her to stop having a pity party for herself and trying to mansplain things to her.<br />
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I don't know if you're confused by this shit. I'm a little confused myself and I've read extensively on this topic ever since the episode aired 7 days ago. If you're reading this, I assume that you're really free. Lol. If so, please feel free to Google about what went down.<br />
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Jeff probst says that survivor is a microcosm of the real world. No shit, Sherlock. This is what's been happening every day to girls all around the world. I am very aware that I'm a girl. But I'm also extremely cognizant that I'm gay. I rarely touch girls. Even in a friendly manner. I try not to. Even if I'm unattached and there ain't no significant other to bludgeon me over the head for being overly friendly. I used to wear ties and bow ties to work. I know. Stupidly poseur and pretentious of me. Stop judging, we all have a past. I had a male colleague who tried to finger them saying that they're cool. He did it in plain view of other colleagues who laughed uncomfortably. No one was more uncomfortable than me. I slapped his hand and asked if he failed the yearly HR test. Nobody brought it up ever again. I am quite firm in my belief that if I brought it up to HR and made an official complaint, he would have been given a warning of some sort. To be fair, he might have considered me a 'bro' since I was so obviously out and decided to treat me as one. The fact of the matter is, there are so many avenues to consider. The perpetrator's mindset - was it truly innocent, the victim - would taking a stand make matters worse and would they be believed in the first place, the bystanders - would supporting the victim be perpetuating a lie or really be helping? And the worst, the people who twist it to their own advantage.<br />
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I squirmed for an hour and a half watching the episode. I spent hours reading the articles and watching apology videos. I stalked the cast members social media accounts to see if there was any more insight to this issue. <br />
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I don't have an awesome conclusion to this post. Which is ironic since I teach kids to always end off with a moral of the story. What I do have are boundaries. And if I, as a girl, am able to subconsciously be able to keep other girls at arms length because I'm afraid that getting too touchy might somehow be violating their personal space and comfort, I don't see how guys can't do the same.Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-12091717799807180532018-04-28T01:08:00.000+08:002018-04-28T01:08:11.501+08:00Back to the grindAlright. It's been about a year and three months without having a steady pay check. In this year, I failed the property exam twice and decided that it's not the path for me. I also became a grab driver for 3 months and got into two accidents, equivalent to the number of accidents I had in my 16 year driving experience. I did complete a 3 month stint in an events company and bemoaned the demise of my 12 hour sleep days. The stint ended and I realized that my body would never let me sleep for 12 hour stretches again. <br />
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So I'm finishing off this weekend somewhat bittersweetly. I'm going back to gainful employment and this time it will probably be for good. Adulting will come for everybody. Even the most perennially Peter Pan of us all. Get a house. Buy more insurance. Get a bunch of burdens and hang them around the neck to consistently remind oneself that this is what life is all about. Gag. <br />
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The interviewers asked me. "What drives you in life?" It might be the wrong answer, but I'm nothing if not truthful. "I don't have much ambition. I don't need a five figure paycheck a month. I just want a flat. 2 or 3 room, I'm not picky. Renovate it so nice that I would never want to leave it. Go on a long vacation a year. That's all." <br />
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I don't think I'll ever really grow up. To Karen's great despair. But then again, it's been 11 years and counting. She should be resigned to it by now. Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-23356384198527829242018-01-27T01:30:00.000+08:002018-01-27T15:10:03.909+08:00Ride or die So I’ve recently come across this phrase and was instantly taken by it. Because friends are the family that we are privileged to choose and because one quarter of my official one is kinda a pain, I’m really happy that I do have people who put up with my short and sometimes admittedly snarky ass. <br>
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I think I’ve said this before but it bears repeating. I was not a popular child. Did not have friends from infancy til I was 11. I think it’s because I was really whiny and let’s be real, who doesn’t love that amirite? I’ve found out the getaround to this problem by still maintaining my whiny side but finding my tribe who thinks that it’s funny. <br>
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Karen rolls her eyes every time I tell her I’m hilarious. Which truth be told, is only valid if other people tell you that. But whatever. We will all die alone, so at least I know that I’ll be able to entertain myself and have at least one appreciative audience at the party. <br>
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Let’s segue into why I’m writing this post. Mainly because I’ve not written anything in a really long time aside from short Facebook posts and like all things, I need the practice. But I don’t really have anything to say and get off my chest. So this is just going to be a rambling composition effort so to speak. <br>
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Ah yes. Not a popular child. After I grew older (note that I didn’t say grow up, I’m still waiting on that to happen), I realized that people will like you for a few reasons. 1 - you’re rich. Money can buy lots of crap, including friends. I’m not rich, so at least I know that the friends that I do have are sorta there for the long haul. 2 - you’re good looking. I know my weaknesses very well, that’s one of the topics I excel at in interviews. And I know that I’m too vertically challenged to ever be considered good looking. I’m not a troll. But I’m realistic as well. 3 - you’re funny. So if I’m not rich, not good looking, the only thing that I can potentially control is my humor. It’s taken a while, but I’ve built a defense mechanism that revolves around being funny. Or at least I try to be. Usually at karen’s expense. So I’m also very thankful that she’s still sticking around after 10 and a half years of this. <br>
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So for all the poor and ugly people out there, go cultivate your funny side. That’s how the comedians in the world get laid. Also. Even if you’re not that funny, surround yourself with people who are less funny. Because in the valley of the blind, the one eyed is king. And goodnight. Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-50554390238240329892015-10-14T22:35:00.001+08:002015-10-14T22:36:24.848+08:00overindulgencei've never been the person to practice conservancy. NEVER. the full bag of chips have to be eaten in one sitting. the roll of mentos, blackcurrant pastilles, whatever, can never be eaten in the next hour. the movies and shows that i am able to rewatch immediately after i've finished with them for fear i missed something the first go around. <br />
<br />
so yes, i can understand that it is a tangent of OCD. but sometimes, obsessing with something i love just makes me feel that much closer to it. and maybe that's why i retain so many memories of the past. people tell me i bear grudges like nobody else. and that's perfectly true too. i am able, to at the drop of a hat, tell you what wrongs you dished out to me ten years ago. but on the flip side, i am also able to tell you the funniest thing you said fifteen years ago. <br />
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anyway, i digress. i just want to talk about pitch perfect. which i am only able to do here because i've driven all my friends crazy. they sigh and roll their eyes and tell me that they are leaving the country when PP3 comes out in two years to get away from me. so yea. i've exhausted all avenues of therapy except this.<br />
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i've been watching PP and PP2 every day. just on the background, so that even if i'm doing something, i'm still kind of immersed in that world. the soundtrack is blasting in my ear drums as i run from errand to errand in the day. i can tell you every single interview the cast has given and it's not even limited to the two main leads. did you know that ester dean (cynthia rose) was the one who wrote S&M for rihanna? or that alexis knapp (stacie) was the girlfriend of ryan phillippe and had a daughter with him before splitting up? i read every single bechloe fan fiction the internet has to throw at me and painstakingly copy and pasted using a tiny ass screen to pdf whole book sized stories so that i'm able to get them on my ebook reader.<br />
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and maybe, just maybe, i'm a little worried for myself. and tell myself i need another hobby. this is how stalkers are made dude. get a grip.<br />
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but since i'm not harming anybody else except my friends' ears and sensibilities, meh. i'm just gonna let this one peter itself out. cos you know what, do whatever it is that makes you happy. <br />
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why live the 7, 8 decades or so, for somebody else. to worry about the next minute, the next day, the next month, when you should be loving life right now. this second, this moment. <br />
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there is absolutely no point to this post. zilch. and i love it. because sometimes, life isn't a fucking straight line. stop meandering from point a to point b. get lost. wander. experience. lose yourself in your thoughts, your imagination, your obsessions. and sometimes, you just might find yourself that way.Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-68302490281700271542015-10-07T02:35:00.001+08:002015-10-07T02:35:26.036+08:00as gay as the day is longhello, my name is claryce. and i'm gay. sometimes i think if that's what people say during therapy. you know, like those AA groups they show on tv, because obviously, i wouldn't know anything about that, being a total lightweight. i have a lot of shit that i could be in therapy for, actually. compulsiveness, rage issues, a slight inferiority complex maybe, but there was a time that i had to go for counselling. <br />
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for being gay.<br />
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i don't think i've ever talked about it before. to anybody. (and for those who know me, that is a FEAT.) and for the longest time, i actually consciously blocked it out of my psyche. i don't know why, it just suddenly popped into my head. and i thought, maybe, it would be a cathartic experience to relive it once again.<br />
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coming from a girls' school, it would be easy to categorise me as part of a culture that bent to peer pressure. only, i knew i liked girls from the very minute i could think. where girls would watch shows and swoon over the male leads, i would think, in my perfectly innocent mind, how lucky he was to get the female protagonist. of course, this all came to a head in school, where it's almost a rite of passage to crush on another girl. and even then, i always thought. that MAYBE, it might be a phase. a moot point now, seeing how i'm 33 and have no inkling in changing my sexual preference.<br />
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my family turned to christianity when i was about 9, but even if religion wasn't a part of it, they would still find it difficult to reconcile me, their daughter, as being gay. i just had my sister come into my room not 2 weeks ago, crying about how she felt burdened by the fact that i was gay. and i in turn, called her a bigot. not the best comeback, i would agree, but it's just so frustrating to me, that my family still isn't able to accept me for who i am. she told me that arguments were being made, now that the gay movement is 'apparently' strong, that paedophiles and other illegal shite would be using it as a leg up for their own acceptance argument. i could not have rolled my eyes more. the word 'consent' might be missing from her vocabulary in the pregnant haze she is in. but because she was in said delicate state, i did not protest as vehemently as i would have normally done. (but true to form, she cried all the same)<br />
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anyhow, i have, accepted that my family will never accept me. isn't that just the biggest of ironies? but seriously, the fact of the matter is even though i'm out, to everybody who wants to know, co workers, acquaintances, even extended family, i sometimes feel shame. like how my family would be out and about, and we would walk past another butch, or have a gay waiter serve us. i feel the reflected shame that they MUST feel, to see them through my family's eyes and the silent judgement they give. sometimes i want to scream, "WELL, THAT'S HOW OTHER PEOPLE MIGHT LOOK AT ME! YOUR DAUGHTER. SO STOP IT."<br />
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well, about the counselling. i kind of got outed in secondary school. a long story. not a pretty one, and the consequence of it was getting benched for netball, which seeing how there were only 4 people in my year, a ridiculous punishment to mete out; we could barely make half the team with me in it, much less without, curfew, and church counselling.<br />
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and here's where it gets murky. because i've pushed it so far away from my mind, i actually don't really remember much of it. i do remember my mother taking leave from work, just to send me to the thing. i remember a caucasian pastor of some sort, somebody i didn't know personally, who did more than just a few sessions with me. they were the most awful, awkward and uncomfortable times of my life. he wasn't mean or anything like that. but i remember, just the shame of it all. to be there, sitting across from him, trying to explain why i liked girls. for his part, he was trying his best to not bring religion into it, and trying his darnedest to explain why it had to be wrong. me? i just sat there in pretended earnest, trying to "prove" that i was over it, and i didn't need to come see him anymore. this farce went on far longer than i thought it would until he deemed me 'cured' and sent me packing. on hindsight, he might have just thought that i was a lost case and bundled me off, not wanting to waste more time. i would love to go back to see him actually, if he were alive, and if i remembered his name, to have an honest debate. make him try to see from my side, instead of sitting there, a scared kid, nodding away to whatever he had to say.<br />
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so, it's late. i should be sleeping. but i'm not. this topic makes my soul itch. like how are people perfectly comfortable in their own skin, cos maybe, i might never have been.<br />
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BUT. i will say one thing. fuck it. life's too short. YOLO. and other well used one liners. if you don't like it, suck it. cos imma live my life for me. not you. i'm gay. deal with it.Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-48611573345825119352015-06-28T23:09:00.001+08:002015-06-28T23:09:32.904+08:00Rainbows and unicornsI've been rather vocal on the subject of all things gay, and another long post on fb isn't something I really want to do at the moment. I'm not in the closet, obviously, but there are still loads of family and family friends who might not look too kindly on my incessant thoughts. <br />
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So now that #lovewins is trending like wildfire and the haters are coming out of the woodwork like the bottom feeders that they are, I'd like to point out a couple of things that are weighing on me. Some, I've said before, but they bear repeating. Mostly because I can't believe my mind actually came up with these nuggets. <br />
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1. How does my being gay impact you exactly?<br />
Do you have to pay more taxes? How exactly are you affected that you have to be vocal about your persecution? <br />
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2. You're worried gayness would influence your children to be gay <br />
Darling, it's not for everyone. If sexual orientation could be influenced, we'd all be straight. And let me make it clear to you, we don't want to be part of any crappy genetic pool you come from. <br />
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3. It's against the bible<br />
So is eating pork. You worry about your own imperfect soul and let me worry about my own. Take your self righteous ugly mug out of my face. You ain't my brother, and certainly not my keeper. <br />
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4. It's unnatural <br />
How is it unnatural? Because we can't have kids? What about all those, bless their souls, infertile couples. Or couples who decide they don't want children? Are they going to get in the way of your holier than thou comedy show?<br />
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5. Using your status in the religious world to spread your bigotry and hate<br />
Yea, Lawrence khong. You self serving bastard. You fecking Pharisee. You filthy hypocrite. I'm not going to say that you are as bad as the guy who opened fire on the Tunisia beach, but you're certainly using your religion to spread hatred. Let's just say, if one of your more simple minded flock decides to one day, wake up, take a knife, waltz over to boat quay and starts massacring gays. Should the blame be on him? Or you. I vote you. <br />
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Love is love is love. The same love someone in Timbuktu might feel. Or in the North Pole. Etc etc etc. Love is love is love. It's not tainted. It's unconditional. And definitely more enlightened than all you haters are feeling. Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-52250508444284188042015-06-17T03:18:00.002+08:002015-06-17T03:58:44.925+08:00In my cornerI'm still rather angsty over something that happened yesterday. I can't quite tweet, Instagram or facebook it because, well, it's not really something you want to be openly talking about on social media without it blowing up in your face. So I've taken to my almost dead blog to write and maybe somehow find a cathartic release. <br />
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As many of you might know, I've been fighting a couple of wars on my Instagram. Which I've recently revived as well. What they are about have been sufficiently rehashed, so let's just say that I've not actively gone out and picked fights with every tom, dick and Harry. Although dicks might be a really apt word. Ah, screw it. Let's rehash it one more time for the cheap seats at the back. <br />
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I played netball competitively for 10 years, from primary 4 to my tertiary education. I loved netball, it was almost like a second nature for me. School and training. Well, not so much when I was in poly because I found that smoking wasn't a fantastic help to my stamina and lung prowess. Also, my coach refused to let me play in my desired position of goal attack. Which I understood completely because standing at 1.5m, the defenders would have had a field day against me. <br />
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Well, anyway, my love for netball got reignited in the most blowout way possible during the recently wrapped up sea games where the sg team prevailed and won gold against a very physical Malaysian team. Don't get me wrong, I am PERFECTLY fine if we lost against a better team. Sad maybe, but I hear time heals all wounds. But the Malaysian team was so dirty. Grabbing a bandaged hand and pulling after the whistle has gone off isn't something I recommend with current technology. You know, we can rewind and playback 673848 times and then grab screenshots to place on the various social media platforms. Which of course, I proceeded to do. Because that's who I am. Sort of a combination of ocd and too much free time on my hands. I'm not saying that the sg team had the cleanest game ever, because and I still maintain, if you shove us, we would eventually shove back. <br />
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Anyway, some people took offense at what I did. And found my insignificant and obscure account by way of my comment on huifen's (the sg netball vice captain) Instagram. Incidentally, she made the same observation on her account, and nobody batted an eyelash. I am supposing the repercussions would be worse for them if they did so. Anyway, said people went and trolled me and decided somewhat unwisely to engage me in an online war. Dude. Writing and fighting? That's my forte and my metaphorical bitch. You are welcome to go to my account and read about it because I am doing this on my iPhone and typing with 2 fingers is starting to irk me. Let's just conclude by saying that they received an ass whooping they probably didn't expect. Especially when we throw Rahman into the mix. Because he's a bitchy gay boy who is so similar to me, sometimes it scares me. We egg each other on in the worst possible ways. But that's another post for another day. <br />
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My sister and mother decided to say things like 'will you please stop?' 'Why you like that?' And other various reprimands I don't quite remember because a red haze descended over me. <br />
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I don't expect you to fight my battles because clearly, I can do it well on my own. But I do expect you to be in my corner when I get personally attacked because that's what you do when somebody you love has this happen to her. If this were on the other shoe, so to speak, and you got attacked EVEN when you were in the wrong, I would be holding a pitchfork and standing in front of you. That's what family do. And I consider my friends to be my family so you know I'd do it for every single one of you. <br />
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Conclusion: I'm not speaking to my mother and I have deleted my sister off my fb account. I don't know how this is going to play out, but I'm of the notion that it isn't going to pretty. Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-76339467571504797092015-04-09T02:00:00.001+08:002015-04-09T02:00:35.199+08:00growing upi don't know about you. but at 32 years old, i still don't feel all that grown up yet. mostly, i blame my parents for this phenomenon because they still boss me around. <br />
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remember when we were kids, and our teachers felt so adult-ish and old and such? ahem, if any of you are reading my blog, i apologise. (and this is one of the reasons why i'm not really putting these feelings onto Facebook) those teachers were probably younger than i am now. say you graduate from uni at 21, and you put in another, say, 2 years at NIE, a fresh teacher would be 23, 24 when they start teaching? And if we were 16, they'd only be 8 years older than us. now, we have colleagues and friends who are more than 10 years our senior and we treat them irreverently like the old farts that they are. yes, i'm talking about you: sophia, joanna, janet, mr wong, ria, ms serena wee, etc.<br />
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but i digress, as i so often do. my point was (and i do have one), is that if those people felt like adults to us at that age, and i have friends and contemporaries who are teachers now who treat kids like the small farts that <i>they</i> are, do we seem like grown ups to people that age? cos, hand on my heart, although i can't be bothered with teenagers, i could totally relate to a 24 year old right now. and <i>they'd</i> be grown up to me. so many italics, chey.<br />
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it's that time of the night, witching hour and all that, and i really should be sleeping at the moment, but i'm of a philosophical bent of the moment and just had to get this out.<br />
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when i was young, i tried to be all gung ho, and macho and all that shit. if a girl screamed because of a cockroach, i'd be quaking inside and still be kicking it aside for her. if a girl made me watch hellraiser and the exorcist, i'd gamely sit there and have nightmares for a week after. i think growing up mostly just made me not care about these frivolities. guniang then guniang la. i hate cockroaches, lizards, bloody things that fly and if something were to scare me, i'd scream like a little girl and not care one whit. and this is also why i've not been to a horror movie in about 7 years now. because after the orphanage that i obliged karen in watching, i declared a moratorium on horror movies. no more. finito. and i don't care if you judge me, because people's opinions just ain't that important any more.<br />
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does that mean that i've grown up? does the fact that i am able to drive, own my own bike, pay taxes, possess credit cards, am able to smoke and drink, possibly get my own place in 2 years and all that, define me to be an adult?<br />
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or, maybe, i just really had a marvellous childhood and school life, hanging out with the same people from 20 years ago, that time just seems to stand still.Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-11836969612484899842015-04-03T04:44:00.000+08:002015-04-15T00:16:43.745+08:00philippines road trip and boracayi love being unemployed. well, at least until the money runs out. you know some people who say, even if they have all the money in the world, they'd still work for the accomplishment or the achievement, or i don't know, reaching self actualisation on maslow's heirachy of needs. i'm not unduly burdened by all that. i'll be perfectly happy doing nothing. but of course, maybe that's because I've been working 7 days a week for as long as i can remember. but i work. for the money to live a fulfilled life. to take that 20 days vacation at the end of the year. to eat meat (i'll never be a vegetarian) because i'm the epitome of 無肉不歡 (i also don't know why my alternate keyboard is in the traditional chinese mode and i'm too lazy to add the simplified version). having said all that, i was ecstatic to have gone on a 7 day trip to philippines to visit ria.<br />
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lijun and jasmine both booked their tickets ages ago and since my timing couldn't be better with the cessation of work, i booked my ticket to join them. they were planning a 5 day trip and since i didn't need to you know, save my leave, i decided on a 7 day thingy in order to visit boracay. which i will get into greater detail later. <br />
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so anyway, we took a midnight flight out of changi. which was pretty much sucktastic because i didn't sleep the whole day running errands and since i can't sleep on planes, i landed in manila somewhat bleary eyed. even the sunrise couldn't cheer me up.<br />
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but i must say, the arrival hall of terminal 1 wasn't.... inspiring. no shops, no cafes, only a couple of phone companies that offered prepaid plans that i immediately snapped up because. god forbid i wouldn't have data to accompany me on this trip. the 600 pesos for an unlimited data plan for 7 days was probably the most well spent item for the entire trip.<br />
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so in typical ria style, she came to pick us up in a spanking new ford eco complete with driver/bodyguard. and proceeded to go to BGC - which is a town that suspiciously looked like the premium outlets in the states without the awesome prices. and also, it had iHop. which caused me and the girls to go into hysterics even whilst being severely sleep deprived.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWaJ9MHXx2iTgHIb2hfXd-DLljBYI7W3oBg-jbOhuOUgJPZ4eJnA-3N4v-7R5nrlpONZjN2Avro7FUyUpk2nsx57Ymcg7DuaS-GvbMBYQ2O4eP-mN-xf2v17Jtkyd2EWG3Yrg/s1600/jas+and+jin.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWaJ9MHXx2iTgHIb2hfXd-DLljBYI7W3oBg-jbOhuOUgJPZ4eJnA-3N4v-7R5nrlpONZjN2Avro7FUyUpk2nsx57Ymcg7DuaS-GvbMBYQ2O4eP-mN-xf2v17Jtkyd2EWG3Yrg/s640/jas+and+jin.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4tKWT75t9Ki3iPZNe_oo-mUD1NlKvN1_nbxz-gsGe6BS0OgyUdcprvtlaF33V4kYbMIb_m3psULjgmW3APrwnG0DzUAufYgryJSkWKpiCH6fCU_tswDKWTC4nuRayEeWMVg/s1600/ria+and+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4tKWT75t9Ki3iPZNe_oo-mUD1NlKvN1_nbxz-gsGe6BS0OgyUdcprvtlaF33V4kYbMIb_m3psULjgmW3APrwnG0DzUAufYgryJSkWKpiCH6fCU_tswDKWTC4nuRayEeWMVg/s640/ria+and+me.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
so you would think after having a mind blowing breakfast, we would be heading back somewhere to take a nap or something. noooooooo. we then proceeded to head to another cafe, to wait out the time that it would take for ria's fengshui shop to open. after a couple of hours, we walked over to find out that it wouldn't be open for another hour, so yeah. we sat at another cafe and ordered another drink. long and boring and terribly sleepy story short, they chose their feng shui bangles after a while. and we headed to another town for lijun to get crowning on her two front bottom teeth done. at S$500 each, almost half the price compared to singapore, it was a pretty good deal. and gave jasmine and me 2 hours to get our feet molested at a massage place and to take a much needed nap. $12 for 2 hours? I'll do that everyday if i could.<br />
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after a very long, and somewhat tiring day, i couldn't tell you what else we did, cos really. i was going out of my mind with the lack of sleep. we arrived at ria's studio and got the shock of our lives.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdNdQZfjnVgYMdW7BAaMDLmbEb9u9Wgya7eFjciMMXWX0yk1AkfKpVD_EGm2sHTqxjtW-1H4g2Ce8RkcEJMUesUgqKUaYB_5NvtfuSa8mqITds_ab9r7NiZtBb4ots4_QtVk/s1600/IMG_7512.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdNdQZfjnVgYMdW7BAaMDLmbEb9u9Wgya7eFjciMMXWX0yk1AkfKpVD_EGm2sHTqxjtW-1H4g2Ce8RkcEJMUesUgqKUaYB_5NvtfuSa8mqITds_ab9r7NiZtBb4ots4_QtVk/s640/IMG_7512.JPG" /></a><br />
<br />
this was her place. her whole place in fact. and we had the 4 of us and ria's secretary who was staying with her. ok, my math sucks but this was a calculation i couldn't wrap my head around. so eventually, we pulled out the bed so that we had 2 singles and sorted out the sleeping arrangements. (i was not sleeping with lijun, no matter what). jasmine and me took the top and ria and lijun got the bottom. which would be uneventful, had i not gone to the toilet in the middle of the night and not gotten flashed by lijun. well, flashed is too good a word i think. that would imply swiftness. what i got was her night dress bunched at her waist, along with the blanket that was ALSO only covering her waist. sigh. my eyes, oh my eyes. <br />
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luckily, ria decided that we would take a road trip to baguio city, which was a city up in the mountains. and true to ria's style, "we are filipinos, and filipinos don't plan', we weren't prepared for the cold. i mean, we were going to manila right? so, t-shirts and shorts were the outfits of the day, no? yeah, after 4 hours of driving, we ended up in a town that boasted 12 degrees in the afternoon. but, oh so pretty. like sausalito of south east asia. but the accommodation was a bitch. everywhere looked like it was built during the 60s at best and some rooms that we looked at looked like there could have been chalk drawn on the floor at some point. we finally decided on a room that had 3 beds and was somewhat clean. beggars can't be choosers, cos let's all say it together, "filipinos don't plan'. i must say. that mantra is probably not said by all filipinos, just ria.<br />
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the last photo was of them trying to take a selfie at the massage parlor. i got so pissed during the thing that i told the girl to stop halfway and walked out. the worst massage i ever got. so bad that i think she fell asleep halfway whilst merely touching my feet. because, really. putting oil on me does not constitute a massage. we stayed a couple of days in baguio, went to do some strawberry picking at a nearby town. well, not so much strawberry picking as, taking some photos next to the strawberry fields and then heading out to buy them from the street vendors because they're so much cheaper from them. so singaporean. buay tahan.<br />
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then after a couple days of nuaing in cafes and such, ria decided to bring us to vigan city before going back to manila. vigan is kind of a touristy place with the cobbled streets and the horse carriages and the distinctly spanish feel. yup. we stayed about 2 hours after driving for 6 hours before taking the 9 hour drive back to manila. we stayed in the car more than anywhere else the whole trip.<br />
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href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiSbu1NPsVfKKc8FKY9dLkinaUYv8UkdRZ2ZOtOxkT9QQGxCCQq34vklc3oLA_N9KG9nWQPhQxSc5L3dtkEo99DYiwPnMw1Qf9Fug5BC22HAI92kseajPHoevfqWTfsScy2Ug/s1600/IMG_7672.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiSbu1NPsVfKKc8FKY9dLkinaUYv8UkdRZ2ZOtOxkT9QQGxCCQq34vklc3oLA_N9KG9nWQPhQxSc5L3dtkEo99DYiwPnMw1Qf9Fug5BC22HAI92kseajPHoevfqWTfsScy2Ug/s640/IMG_7672.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUkASlTq3uZFD4Vr7yMGnsKpDedVn4mNgq8DnfZsrItjKZOjQnHyezkkLR3ACK9n1m6e5fvJ-AIphaa4CzIatuYhRmbXEZCgpqylZ1gNFO-fsf-354Xb6Oa0bozzAqb7jPm9A/s1600/IMG_7683.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUkASlTq3uZFD4Vr7yMGnsKpDedVn4mNgq8DnfZsrItjKZOjQnHyezkkLR3ACK9n1m6e5fvJ-AIphaa4CzIatuYhRmbXEZCgpqylZ1gNFO-fsf-354Xb6Oa0bozzAqb7jPm9A/s640/IMG_7683.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6wcIl7srv6wFg46qo7KrEORlxXIBgbogx10LOHSiHnCmBzrRRFKhb2cCeNpIgHrpGbCZAlIILWQM9ATeTr3rcQ2ede32x97CbB8gIv45iNzjl1MnKFfV6fUvMGABWcLp_uQ/s1600/IMG_7681.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6wcIl7srv6wFg46qo7KrEORlxXIBgbogx10LOHSiHnCmBzrRRFKhb2cCeNpIgHrpGbCZAlIILWQM9ATeTr3rcQ2ede32x97CbB8gIv45iNzjl1MnKFfV6fUvMGABWcLp_uQ/s640/IMG_7681.JPG" /></a><br />
<br />
you can tell we stopped by the road pretty often to take photos. well, traveling in the car for hours on end is no joke i tell you. it nearly broke our asses. after a short intermission during the 9 hours back, we had a toilet break and dinner along the way, we finally got back to ria's loft which was fortunately vacated during our road trip. one queen sized bed, a comfortable couch and a pull out ensured we had the best sleep ever during those 5 days.<br />
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let me now get to the part i was so excited about. boracay. i booked a philippines airline ticket on jasmine's debit card because i didn't activate my auto roam and i think that we kena cheated somewhat. mostly because i booked it at S$135, and it turned out to be $210 when the bill came. so, you know, do your planning first. purchase your tickets in sg before going over, because you never know what might happen.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrwBNT_eOmeAhR1qkxYKhd3jJTPc2a6qsfTRE6G6ggEKSiype6UVqfDXXBhtoIYh9hfVH4ly4_iiDLr2OzlqehkMQa75hOTqHQnBk_QH0W78-8cbcusrvcyEiDprnlJlu3gl0/s1600/IMG_7692.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrwBNT_eOmeAhR1qkxYKhd3jJTPc2a6qsfTRE6G6ggEKSiype6UVqfDXXBhtoIYh9hfVH4ly4_iiDLr2OzlqehkMQa75hOTqHQnBk_QH0W78-8cbcusrvcyEiDprnlJlu3gl0/s640/IMG_7692.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTFkJr_n-WurextcGG-F1kUmW8Bk8qipwEWD2me7SDXZ-SjjOsWHiWrVcb8gh0ssRNA1Kf-3U2IvbGVHxDKTK0OeMv3GINkA-jDpwYXoyulmLHFDT3HKTvF_VueV-7vLu6Gzo/s1600/IMG_7693.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTFkJr_n-WurextcGG-F1kUmW8Bk8qipwEWD2me7SDXZ-SjjOsWHiWrVcb8gh0ssRNA1Kf-3U2IvbGVHxDKTK0OeMv3GINkA-jDpwYXoyulmLHFDT3HKTvF_VueV-7vLu6Gzo/s640/IMG_7693.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii0W23hfuvFa_muLcPdUbALnuHgOaEVYXHX7YykcLsk3s7P0ErVR75G4hyphenhyphenCuMxVLFAhjqEi6307wF46nA8QBKF2aS0_Jp03S3hmGaq4k9t8Qvl4hyphenhyphenm4Gz3PhJsfnxe0RIloYI/s1600/IMG_7696.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii0W23hfuvFa_muLcPdUbALnuHgOaEVYXHX7YykcLsk3s7P0ErVR75G4hyphenhyphenCuMxVLFAhjqEi6307wF46nA8QBKF2aS0_Jp03S3hmGaq4k9t8Qvl4hyphenhyphenm4Gz3PhJsfnxe0RIloYI/s640/IMG_7696.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcoFR-YE9d-OmadC1Nuz2sv1dcSeFxIr1NwFl3FGg_q29RRpD_XTf0YJj68XxzH_ZQ9Aa_sFnzcGLkAa_CnjPmWut2FEL0nv91DjVJ4OuOsGbqtLFj0Z4AW9dR2tD8Mm_pTEY/s1600/IMG_7700.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcoFR-YE9d-OmadC1Nuz2sv1dcSeFxIr1NwFl3FGg_q29RRpD_XTf0YJj68XxzH_ZQ9Aa_sFnzcGLkAa_CnjPmWut2FEL0nv91DjVJ4OuOsGbqtLFj0Z4AW9dR2tD8Mm_pTEY/s640/IMG_7700.JPG" /></a><br />
<br />
a freaking propellor plane dude! which was so noisy that i couldn't hear any announcements. oh and check out boracay from the air. so many tourists packed into a tiny island like that.<br />
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anyhoo, after deplaning, which happened next to a farm where i would see actual cows getting a hairdryer treatment from the plane's propellors, i headed to the jetty by way of a tricycle which cost 20 pesos and was hella uncomfortable because the suspension... was non existent. then came the ferry, which you had to pay for at 3 different counters. the terminal fee, the environment fee and the actual ferry fee. which came to 200 pesos in total. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03WlnwncBbyfy101pS8fQVESGVOnd_bSbvIvTVO5QczNa5wzSacL5CZhKwOJilNy1d2yf4TpxgoGVBf9a3oNHtjmfpZ0S3_Vm1utTIqpqXQ8JzuOo82hxcfNbgukExUzUO1Q/s1600/IMG_7702.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03WlnwncBbyfy101pS8fQVESGVOnd_bSbvIvTVO5QczNa5wzSacL5CZhKwOJilNy1d2yf4TpxgoGVBf9a3oNHtjmfpZ0S3_Vm1utTIqpqXQ8JzuOo82hxcfNbgukExUzUO1Q/s640/IMG_7702.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik692dcjQP9YLN-1Wv_r4qHhZ9-tuvxrUK1B5ctwwlzQWODp771wkXCJOgO5X8kFl2ytqHedUOskQQzFijHJcjWyjFc5fcVW2un-ZZqB2wTaYJvUZYoX8amgw2uY_FIx9f7wU/s1600/IMG_7703.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik692dcjQP9YLN-1Wv_r4qHhZ9-tuvxrUK1B5ctwwlzQWODp771wkXCJOgO5X8kFl2ytqHedUOskQQzFijHJcjWyjFc5fcVW2un-ZZqB2wTaYJvUZYoX8amgw2uY_FIx9f7wU/s640/IMG_7703.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDCUPFnCS4ObU870WyatDYKoqikg3h9vS3bG_MUupwVP1IAXePaxWqiMb-U1a1YhwWJ3sDBtwY6yJP1SpuP15P49vgzXn81eNaU2NcPgR82ISocr_MAnlQNMaNFgDPVwscds/s1600/IMG_7704.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDCUPFnCS4ObU870WyatDYKoqikg3h9vS3bG_MUupwVP1IAXePaxWqiMb-U1a1YhwWJ3sDBtwY6yJP1SpuP15P49vgzXn81eNaU2NcPgR82ISocr_MAnlQNMaNFgDPVwscds/s640/IMG_7704.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
and you get to boracay! and then you take another tricycle to your hotel. i asked sugu before i left if she had any tips. the unhelpful girl told me to get a shake from jonah's shake shack, which i already knew about because i did my research. oh, and she also told me, 'don't get scammed by the hustlers on the beach'. as if i didn't know. real tips sugu, i needed the real tips. like what i'm giving you now.<br />
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boys and girls, when you get to boracay and you need to get to your hotel via tricycle, they will inadvertently tell you that the journey will be 100 pesos because you obviously ain't local. don't be a dumbass like me and say ok, and still give them a 20 peso tip on top of that.<br />
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THE JOURNEY SHOULD ONLY COST YOU 20 PESOS. well, if you were doing a shared tricycle thing anyway. if not, the most that you should pay is 50 pesos. don't be roberts ok? unless your first name starts with julia. and even then, it's not acceptable to be tok-ked so badly by these people.<br />
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so i arrived at my hostel, box and ladders at about 5.30pm. just in time to see the sun set. why a hostel? cos i went to boracay by myself and wasn't interested in spending $200 a night on a hotel that i would not be spending much time in. box and ladders clearly took their cue from the japanese capsule hotels cos that's what the beds were. capsules. with a curtain for privacy and a box below the bed for your personal belongings. they gave you a basket too, with a towel, a night light and a tiny bottle of shampoo and bath foam. the bare necessities and i was fine with it. cos i paid S$25 a night. woooot. i do need to add a disclaimer: i'm 1.5m, and the bed is exactly that length. if i stretched out fully, my toes would be peeking out of the curtain. and 99% of the population is taller than me, so if you're claustrophobic, the place is definitely not for you.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8S81WW_IDCVNzeHh_PeMwmmyivLmX6ls7HYhXOMx60om0G6jNdxCL2ABtuRoJlF-znDgwoJaCfkOwcYwSEKvTSNx20Vp6Tc5AJWECib46dW67cBK_bx3brjUF1_0Z7N_5pDk/s1600/IMG_7727.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8S81WW_IDCVNzeHh_PeMwmmyivLmX6ls7HYhXOMx60om0G6jNdxCL2ABtuRoJlF-znDgwoJaCfkOwcYwSEKvTSNx20Vp6Tc5AJWECib46dW67cBK_bx3brjUF1_0Z7N_5pDk/s640/IMG_7727.jpg" /></a><br />
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so, yes. finally. after an hour's flight, a ten minute ferry ride and a 5 minute tricycle ride (not so much as a hop and a skip, but a rather tedious journey to be honest), I WAS IN BORACAY! where the water was clear, and the food was expensive. tourist trap. but it was okay. you only live once. and overspending on boracay was a tenth of what i would spend if i were to indulge in say, maldives. so yea, i trudged off to find ariel's point. where i proceeded to book a day trip for the next day. cliff diving and snorkelling awaits. but after that... the beach beckoned me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHqXw7QyKvQladt1DwDCmZh2XtkNXHbq8KuCkjfJTKdJ-2khRrcl9CJ5XmFY9VrKoI84daDrlhRYEBG-SbDNARp2kmW4tRUWQHXrv7WK8KZg98lMh_kRKswdN5pAtIxgLARg/s1600/IMG_7709.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHqXw7QyKvQladt1DwDCmZh2XtkNXHbq8KuCkjfJTKdJ-2khRrcl9CJ5XmFY9VrKoI84daDrlhRYEBG-SbDNARp2kmW4tRUWQHXrv7WK8KZg98lMh_kRKswdN5pAtIxgLARg/s320/IMG_7709.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwfAJC66MVieG38-R1iOJmApnffqqjFPcEjW8KIFhaNAEWSKmRr4GX52F_zmDpsSXEQpjz668ILrnyxYpv9m1NVd-lozLdR4Gj5lWdtkvCYa2AN1P4H_4sL4Vca2Wi-Mlol8/s1600/IMG_7713.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwfAJC66MVieG38-R1iOJmApnffqqjFPcEjW8KIFhaNAEWSKmRr4GX52F_zmDpsSXEQpjz668ILrnyxYpv9m1NVd-lozLdR4Gj5lWdtkvCYa2AN1P4H_4sL4Vca2Wi-Mlol8/s320/IMG_7713.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlqfBXt7p40lCwNDH11C_V9qvgoOi0BKzxA1MtszXEd6cfzjFTbj7ic3ENT_OtBEWS5gp5rb7IIl5VXizzOXFHjsz8YTXcHBsbvA1-JgBONL34ovUKH4gKVIR4jEv4xaWSSE/s1600/IMG_7719.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlqfBXt7p40lCwNDH11C_V9qvgoOi0BKzxA1MtszXEd6cfzjFTbj7ic3ENT_OtBEWS5gp5rb7IIl5VXizzOXFHjsz8YTXcHBsbvA1-JgBONL34ovUKH4gKVIR4jEv4xaWSSE/s320/IMG_7719.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgIkGFfiPQnrdn0MP2lYwQl4gCWJ7q8g21DpnJX95CDT-tu7h7LE450pF9g2peb8mdiJsMY83H0rokFIouxCrWB491tEHejpwiCBKSr7ct2jxauUjYVSC4nk1hnfK27uN_PQ/s1600/IMG_7717.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgIkGFfiPQnrdn0MP2lYwQl4gCWJ7q8g21DpnJX95CDT-tu7h7LE450pF9g2peb8mdiJsMY83H0rokFIouxCrWB491tEHejpwiCBKSr7ct2jxauUjYVSC4nk1hnfK27uN_PQ/s320/IMG_7717.jpg" /></a><br />
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let's skip the boring dinner part. because i wasn't interested in spending $20 and upwards for an average meal, i got a decent burger and fries at some burger joint and headed back to sleep for my eventful day ahead.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJB4J12I2SkXvVMIWIgIcLvwEjH68hl3D1tiTKOsxduzJSR_bnaj23zV9mLFHpHZl0PCUaLsdM_WKZpmoJV-svKv1hCLsu0bxQBGFr3IMj2oVF-5hu0OudG52y6kg8GBARDW8/s1600/IMG_7726.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJB4J12I2SkXvVMIWIgIcLvwEjH68hl3D1tiTKOsxduzJSR_bnaj23zV9mLFHpHZl0PCUaLsdM_WKZpmoJV-svKv1hCLsu0bxQBGFr3IMj2oVF-5hu0OudG52y6kg8GBARDW8/s640/IMG_7726.jpg" /></a><br />
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when you get to boracay, and if you have a limited time to spend there, use it on ariel's point. 20,000 pesos which translates roughly to about S$55, gets you a half day trip out to this tiny little island, about 20 minutes away from the main beach. please try to book it at least one day before because they get fully booked pretty quick. you get unlimited beer, soft drinks, chips and a pretty good bbq lunch complete with dessert which, in my case, was bananas coated with sugar and then grilled to caramelly perfection. the highlight, was of course the cliff diving. there's the 5 meters for the faint of heart, the 8 meters which i gamely tried and the 15 meters which ohmygod, scared me even without going up. i went by myself. so it got pretty sad and lonely without having someone to commiserate with. the jumps were exhilarating. and mother effing scary. my hands didn't stop shaking for 10 minutes after i tried it. but oh so good. and now i'm kicking myself for not trying the 15. man, the bragging rights would be immense. but negligible since i didn't have anybody there to brag to. oh well. maybe another time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG97-dB0kkGc_iAlnjex-8-VhP_UajN3V7egJsQHNYU9mmdh6mH0JFNe6o0xBbNFJiX1_rFoSGld94Z94Y3288Q4p7wuaoVBeUckpd4zaqoVTNxJVnVkezwRwNjdkeH4KPTm0/s1600/IMG_7755.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG97-dB0kkGc_iAlnjex-8-VhP_UajN3V7egJsQHNYU9mmdh6mH0JFNe6o0xBbNFJiX1_rFoSGld94Z94Y3288Q4p7wuaoVBeUckpd4zaqoVTNxJVnVkezwRwNjdkeH4KPTm0/s640/IMG_7755.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj90sm1JyrRsdOly9gApw5p_o4r0cE0xMyTKzhcKh7BcYlIndCQZ8fI3HiOAoRqSVmx0Wt7XFJzRweK9WUqSkaMsSlk_h25af8hXk30PZB7A7FZ__E37h5EanKEIjBDSN-61UQ/s1600/IMG_7756.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj90sm1JyrRsdOly9gApw5p_o4r0cE0xMyTKzhcKh7BcYlIndCQZ8fI3HiOAoRqSVmx0Wt7XFJzRweK9WUqSkaMsSlk_h25af8hXk30PZB7A7FZ__E37h5EanKEIjBDSN-61UQ/s640/IMG_7756.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl052rI5pZJlLhN0gRelbt4pmOouO_OefBROzsJq6bffGz26kpOkrYYZL1GckNblZp8-Is_xCGB6bmCx1-g1e_Z5NJ47H-3nZ8_cXKP00IdmIkY4qCmyf5-OVr1qE9shIXYkI/s1600/IMG_7783.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl052rI5pZJlLhN0gRelbt4pmOouO_OefBROzsJq6bffGz26kpOkrYYZL1GckNblZp8-Is_xCGB6bmCx1-g1e_Z5NJ47H-3nZ8_cXKP00IdmIkY4qCmyf5-OVr1qE9shIXYkI/s640/IMG_7783.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuUdaI6ozAPQdbgiGBmCivEAjc2p4luyRiDSXZBK9cZZs7v7pnYU-xDfNtX1ab8G6x3_DpLZsyynkk9GDoYS5TTO_6NuRaNMJTAU-i3-hCiK-O7BB6-G5wRaxjqBR4KdDyc6I/s1600/IMG_7784.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuUdaI6ozAPQdbgiGBmCivEAjc2p4luyRiDSXZBK9cZZs7v7pnYU-xDfNtX1ab8G6x3_DpLZsyynkk9GDoYS5TTO_6NuRaNMJTAU-i3-hCiK-O7BB6-G5wRaxjqBR4KdDyc6I/s640/IMG_7784.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzm8EILXFa4qCDf94IoSmVLdy7VOupVbYeK8Pit6MAPvGvez7ZY1VsFldbLckKKQab4tSmXH-G1zNGb7XpG6woLzVpo2pzO8IfFIYctocU65VdFAN8F10Z7wczEfbdOBc37s/s1600/IMG_7785.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzm8EILXFa4qCDf94IoSmVLdy7VOupVbYeK8Pit6MAPvGvez7ZY1VsFldbLckKKQab4tSmXH-G1zNGb7XpG6woLzVpo2pzO8IfFIYctocU65VdFAN8F10Z7wczEfbdOBc37s/s640/IMG_7785.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQO_EMgdUlCFh-hlB8GeSoAoZfftGSyQeI248zn8ixBpxOeOssSWCdHZKVuheM1aImNTJ_tCu47HKaAi-6-ggn90Km_0wf-hd8w-Je0frMQK2wu1DuKtVKAGOqO-RH7sKjGl4/s1600/IMG_7787.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQO_EMgdUlCFh-hlB8GeSoAoZfftGSyQeI248zn8ixBpxOeOssSWCdHZKVuheM1aImNTJ_tCu47HKaAi-6-ggn90Km_0wf-hd8w-Je0frMQK2wu1DuKtVKAGOqO-RH7sKjGl4/s640/IMG_7787.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdxN7WBaYyyUGVOHQfSFhqhrw0C0UtyfmfkN2VDfNAdcSSXUQ-j8MDOsEQCdUOsG-J6-tEGEAXIKfnEpXGHAhvkEAXDQLUYG9GdAQVRbqmZBT5wFHDwQ3ye1b-4hVDyvJhXzM/s1600/IMG_7776.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdxN7WBaYyyUGVOHQfSFhqhrw0C0UtyfmfkN2VDfNAdcSSXUQ-j8MDOsEQCdUOsG-J6-tEGEAXIKfnEpXGHAhvkEAXDQLUYG9GdAQVRbqmZBT5wFHDwQ3ye1b-4hVDyvJhXzM/s640/IMG_7776.JPG" /></a><br />
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<iframe width="420" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rE0kM3gbkU0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
<br />
after the cliff jump and a spot of snorkelling, i settled in the deck chair and just nua-ed until it was time to go back to the mainland. sigh. i think i would have given anything for karen to have been there with me. until i went back and caught the sun set and she asked me if i was dating myself. some people. too much.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXA2sxDTQOpNAS6w3TOPvR_n-CtqtS_jU8rPEEbc2icoFihpvjkWeY7-X9DSgWW26sSccjDhI-ox6R97VESYN-_W6Xx9sYLdnw_i8ZIgsS0aRmYHqB3C-ONQwJPbgy-x1JmN4/s1600/IMG_7802.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXA2sxDTQOpNAS6w3TOPvR_n-CtqtS_jU8rPEEbc2icoFihpvjkWeY7-X9DSgWW26sSccjDhI-ox6R97VESYN-_W6Xx9sYLdnw_i8ZIgsS0aRmYHqB3C-ONQwJPbgy-x1JmN4/s640/IMG_7802.JPG" /></a><br />
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but so pretty it nearly broke my feels.<br />
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i went walking around d'mall in search for some sustenance though i was still pretty full from the lunch, so i grabbed a chocolate bar and some cheetos from the convenience mart and headed back. but not before having seen this.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVTUQdiZJjWZL6WXlrF8H1QHLfhBptfWIKsKtAo-2RGeTfiSdznF7NKKsyoG2RHd0e0u4OZzgVKZpT002wmZRB4Tb-d-iQHXl6FPC6zdTTup36qB6aJm2z831UArysTdIpo58/s1600/IMG_7808.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVTUQdiZJjWZL6WXlrF8H1QHLfhBptfWIKsKtAo-2RGeTfiSdznF7NKKsyoG2RHd0e0u4OZzgVKZpT002wmZRB4Tb-d-iQHXl6FPC6zdTTup36qB6aJm2z831UArysTdIpo58/s640/IMG_7808.JPG" /></a><br />
<br />
me: omg!<br />
karen: you better not eat there. you might get mistaken for one of the wait staff.<br />
me: ........<br />
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i left at 5am the next morning to catch my 6.30am flight and even though boracay was ley chey max to get to. i really might just go back. but please. somebody go with me. this whole travel solo thing might be good for some people, but i really can't do it man. i was almost going stir crazy at the end of it.<br />
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this blog post took me a good part of 3 hours. seriously. it's why i don't do it often. just in case you were wondering. which i'm sure you aren't. i apologise for the sporadic posts i come up with, it's just.... so much effort! i only did this to you know, preserve my memories for posterity. or something like that.<br />
Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-24757262003217850422013-09-24T13:48:00.002+08:002013-09-24T13:48:36.379+08:00entitledhave you seen the article on stomp that's been making its rounds along the stomp community about the FT who whilst going up the bus, pushed a girl into the divider by accident and got it all blown up out of proportion?<br />
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so the mother of the girl's side is as follows:<br />
<i><b>"As we stepped on the first steps of the bus, a man appeared from behind my daughter and pushed her to one side. This caused her to slam her face and body on the metal bar that acts as a divider at the entrance of the bus.<br />
</b></i><br />
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and since this article is getting spread around facebook like butter on bread, the guy's wife happened to chance upon it and took it upon herself to explain. why the guy couldn't do it himself is beyond me. her written english seems to be pretty high falutin, so i can't see him not being able to put his points across if he really wanted to defend himself. maybe because he doesn't have friends and family here, it doesn't really matter to him. maybe the wife who has those since she's a singaporean feels the loss of face more acutely. whatever the reason is, i feel that her spirited defence of her husband has to be taken with a pinch of salt. why? pure and simple hearsay. she wasn't there. and all she has to go on is her husband's word. and really, who doesn't want to put themselves in a better light?<br />
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anyway, she says:<br />
<i><b>Naturally, he boarded on the right side of it with already one foot up on the step when the girl, for some reason, appeared like she'd squeezed her way into the right side too (instead of the left) in an attempt to also get on the bus. Since my husband was already one or two steps AHEAD of the girl on the right side, he figured it would be best if he got out of her way and got up first without realizing he had accidentally hit her with his backpack due to the close proximity of the girl (who was literally inches behind him).</b> </i><br />
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it's difficult living in a city state. my parents are strong supporters of the incumbent government. and though i appreciate the lifestyle and safety and the fact that so long as you work hard, you will be able to get ahead - race, religion notwithstanding and other marginalized countries can attest to that. but i really hate city living. and i hate how some singaporeans behave. like coddled, spoiled children who feel like they are entitled to everything. for that, i apologize in advance, but i do blame the government. example in point: because they don't trust singaporeans to be a gracious society, they have to put in place campaigns for a gracious society, forcing it down our throats. and singaporeans prove them right, by being ungracious at every point of the way. i hate it when people don't signal. but let's face it. once you signal, the guy behind you inadvertently speeds up in order to not let you filter. it's a catch 22 system all around.<br />
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and this is the result. parents who feel like they are contributing to the all important task of repopulating singapore and let their kids grow up to be overindulgent brats. and ungracious people in general. singaporeans and FTs alike.<br />
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#feelingdisgruntledingeneralClarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-10360934085919147222013-09-16T13:32:00.000+08:002013-09-16T13:35:03.496+08:00latchkeymy sister and i had the most awesome childhood. and when i say awesome, i mean that the parentals didn't give a shit about what their progeny was up to in the day when they weren't around. we were in the care of my really aged grandmother who needed a nap at about 3pm everyday. so we'd wait for her to fall asleep and we'd go gallivanting in my neighbourhood, knocking on neighbours' doors to get them to come out and play. Of course, we weren't as latchkey as Huijun who only needed to be home to sleep. But that's a story for another day.<br>
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we'd learn how to cycle without hands down the steepest slope in the world, not caring one whit should a car come along. amazing how we're so fearless when we're kids cos really, just cycling on the roads now sends sweat beads running down my back.<br>
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my mum showed me a photo yesterday that her colleague sent her. it was a photo of me, roughly aged 3, peeping out from behind some railing at my mother's company's sports day whilst she was getting a trophy. i laughed and asked where my sister was. my mother's reply? "must be somewhere around la. maybe behind the banner."<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4-AE6876QAqZbpe1aaAktpvnROu-bGUS-k9aJFgAMG5PnLQuce_ejPB5mp-JnLCcpAJNImBbuTiuLuzLIrTKJVPXg2FX-8eOcAiW5aBwWxd_0KyJ_wx266B4M2HLH-kaxhl8/s640/blogger-image--2144234143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4-AE6876QAqZbpe1aaAktpvnROu-bGUS-k9aJFgAMG5PnLQuce_ejPB5mp-JnLCcpAJNImBbuTiuLuzLIrTKJVPXg2FX-8eOcAiW5aBwWxd_0KyJ_wx266B4M2HLH-kaxhl8/s640/blogger-image--2144234143.jpg"></a></div><br>
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so i inquired, "and when you were doing your games and stuff? who was taking care of us?"<br>
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my mother calmly cleared the dinner plates and replied. "please. you all can take care of yourselves."<br>
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i think we were 3 and a half and 2 respectively. i think my mother was betting that would be kidnappers would take a look at us and run off.<br>
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my sister and me would play in the now defunct oriental hougang and make a general nuisance of ourselves. my mother was of course, trying to pretend that we didn't belong to her and browsed through the clothes at her own leisure. we'd run and play catching, or hide and seek. whatever caught our fancy that particular day. one of our favourite things to do would be to hang ourselves in the jackets on the racks and pretend that we're mannequins - part of the department store itself. we'd be so lost in our revelry that we got separated from our mother on a very regular basis. the first time we trudged to the information counter for an announcement, my mother turned up in five minutes, all embarassed and worried. the second time it happened, she made sure that she got all the stuff in her hands paid for before collecting us. the time after that? she left us there for an hour until she was good and ready to go. my sister and i were not amused.<br>
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but it was an awesome childhood. we learnt responsibility. and independence. and lived without the smothering that goes on too often these days. </div>Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-58141916779698877232013-09-14T20:00:00.001+08:002013-09-14T20:00:34.432+08:00Kim OngHere's a story. I used to have a friend. Her name is Kim. She used to be the sweetest person I knew. She'd hunt up books she thought I'd love and ship it over from Boston where she was residing to cheer me up when she thought I needed it. She used to be the heart of the group, intelligent, witty, funny and one of the best friends you could have had. She always had your back. But the thing is, I don't need a friend to do stupendous things for me. I just need one who won't do things against me.<div><br></div><div>And then, things started to change. She started to be manipulative, backstabbing her friends, one by one, making a fool of everyone who cared about her.</div><div><br></div><div>And the lies. The smallest things. She'd twist words, carry stories, and generally be someone who you needed to guard against. There's a running line within my small group. 'With a friend like this, who needs enemies?' Because I think enemies would probably not inflict as much damage as her. She'd say things that made you feel sorry for her. Oh, nobody cares for her. She feels left out. She'd make friends and burn those bridges faster than you can say knnnbccb. And then you'd find out she was lying about all of that because she was holding a pity party for one. </div><div><br></div><div>This was going to be a much longer post. That categorically stated all the points I have to defend my position. But why should I waste further time and effort?</div><div><br></div><div>All you need to know is: for all purposes, this person is dead to me. Live or die, she's no longer a part of my life. Because, really. My back doesn't have any space left for a knife wound anymore.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-91863364380718079142013-09-12T11:48:00.002+08:002013-09-12T11:58:21.753+08:00mary mary quite contrarysome of my friends know that i'm writing a book. well, not so much a book as a chick lit. think julia quinn, amanda quick, julie ann long, etc. see, told you i was guniang. i've mentioned this before, i'll try to see if it can get published for the sake of seeing my name amongst those writers that i love so much. but even if it isn't able to go into print, i'd probably get it printed in some form for my christmas presents to friends. before i embarked on this very long journey - i think it's 4 years or so thus far in the making (can't be helped. i'm not a very dedicated writer. i'd go half a year before adding words to the thing.), i did think of writing another book all together. a spin on our favourite childhood stories. so following the previous post of badass nursery rhymes we should not at any cost be letting our progeny read, let's take a look at our beloved fairytales that follow us well into adulthood. jas and her ariel anybody?<br>
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just to sidetrack a bit, do you realise how marginalized all the female characters are in the fairy tales? they're either bitches - think evil stepmother, evil witch, evil fairy, etc, or they're beautiful heroines who inadvertently need a prince charming to come save them. these princes don't even have names if you actually stop to think about it. they're just normal, generic princes who are required to save these women from a terrible existence, everlasting sleep, coma, blah blah blah. i'm not sure i'd be reading these stories to my future nieces/nephews. i mean really? i know these stories were written by the brothers grimm (i love how these grim brothers wrote fairytales for children. irony of ironies.) but still, you build these characters up, make us fall in love with them and have them fall flat on their faces. metaphorically speaking. why would i want to teach children that it's fine for you to fall and not pick yourself up - so long as you're pretty enough to get saved by a prince? isn't that the modern equivalent of being a tai tai? i don't actually know if there are parents who read these fairytales to boys though. wouldn't boys want scary stories and dragons to be featured in their bedtime stories instead?<br>
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well anyway, i used to think that if i had to rewrite these fairytales, i'd do so from the perspective of the bitches. you have to hear the story from both sides don't you? and wouldn't it be interesting to not have one dimensional characters? to not have them be evil just for the sake of being the antagonist?<br>
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<i><b>rumpelstiltskin</b></i><div><b><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLmCOc0kZZJd9EimAJZS-a-0zxgb-lNoLcKxTHa6T5aYgJHLp6srQfgLjc4Veihx4EBBHUOMWZZBxuswl59oUIqxI4V8i5qGxMcXUx12k525vnn6PaJagW1hv7Put2DKYlcOE/s640/blogger-image-647142707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLmCOc0kZZJd9EimAJZS-a-0zxgb-lNoLcKxTHa6T5aYgJHLp6srQfgLjc4Veihx4EBBHUOMWZZBxuswl59oUIqxI4V8i5qGxMcXUx12k525vnn6PaJagW1hv7Put2DKYlcOE/s640/blogger-image-647142707.jpg"></a></div><br></i></b>
i actually loved this story as a kid. and even at a tender pre kindergarten age, i felt that the poor dude got played out by the girl. every single character in this thing is flawed. from the father who basically sold his daughter by feeding the greedy king a preposterous lie that she could spin gold. and the said king who was stupid enough to believe him halfway and locked the girl up in a room filled with straw for three nights, demanding that she spun gold or she'd die. rumplestiltskin who out of the kindness in his heart, visited the girl and asked her why she was crying. he extended a contract to her, helping her achieve this impossible task - he got the girl's necklace and ring for payment and when she didn't have anything to barter with anymore, his request was that he get her first born child. i mean, just take a look at the guy. he's described as an imp-like man, which would mean he was a midget. he probably couldn't get married and have a kid of his own. i don't think there was adoption back in those days. you see what i'm getting at don't you? when he tried to collect payment, the girl who became the queen told him he couldn't get her child. so he acquiesced and told her that if she managed to guess his name within three days, he'd give his claim up. long story short, she found his name out by sending messengers to follow him, toyed with him by feigning ignorance at first before revealing it and he got so enraged he stamped himself out of oblivion. damned poor thing right. you should watch the faerie tale theatre version - i think it's on youtube. you'd feel even more sorry for the guy.<br>
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<i><b>cinderella </b></i></div><div><div class="separator" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; clear: both; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PO6mGN45KNEgywz8S652rDLC38sxFfZG8CB0gNNdg7P5aY5Ux2YydaOmL5zvb3Y6eknmWfvv4hVxA0pbI3V-viUTWxmJBW1AkoGWBvYOACwAWTdGiXjovNK40io-I6b_HOw/s640/blogger-image--1111686405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PO6mGN45KNEgywz8S652rDLC38sxFfZG8CB0gNNdg7P5aY5Ux2YydaOmL5zvb3Y6eknmWfvv4hVxA0pbI3V-viUTWxmJBW1AkoGWBvYOACwAWTdGiXjovNK40io-I6b_HOw/s640/blogger-image--1111686405.jpg"></a></div><i>if you think they look familiar, they're jennifer beals and matthew broderick of pre l word and inspector gadget fame</i></div><div><br>
everyone knows the story of the proverbial stepchild who was used as a scullery maid and made to see her inheritance stolen from her by the evil stepmother. but but but, what if. what if she was illegitimate. you know, the daughter of the guy's mistress. her mother died, her father brought her into his household, and his wife was made to bring up her husband's by blow. you can imagine the rest.<br>
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<i><b>hansel and gretel</b></i></div><div><b><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJLRSo4D_q_9z96GWL4tSn7qTMaXo-c8Q6sI1XundbVJkVrL-Qg1WOvsBKE5i4PbMY_zFNPXABCv-RPOh36XZh7aED5g3MReiv0vYVvd86JitTX0jwiBvnkLB6o6t66hHUHU/s640/blogger-image--1797466821.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJLRSo4D_q_9z96GWL4tSn7qTMaXo-c8Q6sI1XundbVJkVrL-Qg1WOvsBKE5i4PbMY_zFNPXABCv-RPOh36XZh7aED5g3MReiv0vYVvd86JitTX0jwiBvnkLB6o6t66hHUHU/s640/blogger-image--1797466821.jpg"></a></div><br></i></b>
what about these 2 brats who ate your house. wouldn't you be pissed too? nuff said.<br>
<br>
stuff like that la. my mother used to tape every episode and my sister and me would watch them when she went to work. and now that we're all grown up, we realize that these episodes of the faerie tale theatre are so not for children. for one thing, they're all acted out by real people (usually celebrities who guest star), so they bring a remarkable amount of realism to these stories. and it's a bit scary to see bad guys come to life - all ugly and foreboding. i'm not telling you to let your kids watch, but you should watch them yourself. they're great fun. and i think they're all on youtube now. my sister just burned all the episodes of the two seasons into discs for my birthday this year.<br>
<br>
so wouldn't you say that parents have their work cut out for them? no nursery rhymes, no fairytales. just what are you able to read to your kids?</div>Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-27985033500844165322013-09-11T12:22:00.000+08:002013-09-11T13:34:29.196+08:00badass nursery rhymesi've quite a few friends, well, the few that have embraced straightness anyway, who have taken to motherhood pretty spectacularly. the newest one, of course being michelle whose baby sam was supposed to be born on my birthday but procrastinated in leaving her womb that he was born on the 25th of July instead. they're all modern mothers, taking full advantage of the 4 months maternity before going back into the workforce to boost singapore's economy. gladys even took unpaid leave till the end of the year in order not to miss out on kyra's first year.<br>
<br>
well. anyway, when i was still studying for my english degree, i had a lecturer who would bounce into class and digress into all sorts of topics before launching into her class proper. samantha yu, you should remember her. super drama. i think throughout my years in uniSIM, hers was the only class that i tried my darndest to not fall asleep in. some topics were so interesting that it was my main takeaway from the course. i can't for the life of me, explain the historical and romance of the books that i studied. but i can tell you that many nursery rhymes have their origins steeped in gore.<br>
<br>
i don't drink. can't, for that matter. but even i know about bloody mary. a cocktail of vodka, tomato and lemon juice with splashes of worchester sauce, tobasco, salt and pepper. if that doesn't turn your stomach, i don't know what will. queen bloody mary was the progeny of henry VIII. the dude that chopped off alot of people's heads. the recommendation that his heir would be better is pretty far fetched wouldn't you think? she exceeded her father's tyranny so much so that she has a couple of nursery rhymes attributed to her.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiWfp_zgJw2KfBIs_cTShDhpkGs7M1hMsxoouYBSSFZQ_-qhZeZvrlvaS2kMv2USqUvAnhDS_V39WblspturHfSmQbLK1HR7t6VdNlxY7UesV4UPyEwhIiAQPG8hY31RJmbk/s640/blogger-image-747317578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiWfp_zgJw2KfBIs_cTShDhpkGs7M1hMsxoouYBSSFZQ_-qhZeZvrlvaS2kMv2USqUvAnhDS_V39WblspturHfSmQbLK1HR7t6VdNlxY7UesV4UPyEwhIiAQPG8hY31RJmbk/s640/blogger-image-747317578.jpg"></a></div>Video ad in London that got banned because of freaked out children<br>
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<i><b>"mary mary, quite contrary<br>
how does your garden grow<br>
with silver bells and cockle shells<br>
and pretty maids all in a row"</b></i><div><b><i><br></i></b></div><div><b><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3qUWHLeXyBtE01jTpghYPMr7Js87DkNmF-5sA7eTEURDKpJJg-5DucpX0YE1O-rgomwIo0jaC9ScoPSEHpYnMGlQU83tuyPYVMHbycdsrQ9hmXv7zzGUxtRWq9DOTvp2QzI/s640/blogger-image-482500938.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3qUWHLeXyBtE01jTpghYPMr7Js87DkNmF-5sA7eTEURDKpJJg-5DucpX0YE1O-rgomwIo0jaC9ScoPSEHpYnMGlQU83tuyPYVMHbycdsrQ9hmXv7zzGUxtRWq9DOTvp2QzI/s640/blogger-image-482500938.jpg"></a></div><br></i></b>
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dudes. erm, mothers. please note that the 'garden' is actually a graveyard. <br>
silver bells - instrument of torture that crushed the thumbs.<br>
cockleshells - torture devices attached to erm, the guys' sensitive parts. the name cockleshell suggests itself for crying out loud.<br>
maids - the guillotine nicknamed 'the maiden'.<br>
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the other one she's famous for inspiring.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY3Vo94kFlQBDVqr_L5RoDOSo8k-jfUB0vxcSMmbQzeuwN9y5mF2VzPYcXTWz2TkY-6lPBi8y5JwhJzzN6eb5aT-dmjnHdxDHXlqu_q-GuAmcpqqoL7XQgabdonmibyk2byIY/s640/blogger-image-95052527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY3Vo94kFlQBDVqr_L5RoDOSo8k-jfUB0vxcSMmbQzeuwN9y5mF2VzPYcXTWz2TkY-6lPBi8y5JwhJzzN6eb5aT-dmjnHdxDHXlqu_q-GuAmcpqqoL7XQgabdonmibyk2byIY/s640/blogger-image-95052527.jpg"></a></div>
<i><b>"three blind mice, three blind mice<br>
see how they run, see how they run<br>
they all ran after the farmer's wife<br>
who cut off their tails with a carving knife<br>
did you ever see such a thing in your life<br>
as three blind mice"</b></i><br>
<br>
simply put, she killed three noblemen who actually had the audacity to stand up to her.<br>
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and on a slightly more alarming and disturbing note. i'm sure everyone remembers singing and dancing along to this:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HLyzseWNWnWMYpM09YMyeEAJXhUVVDU3da0CJxOlrP15y4r9Ps6bJJT2ptM86srkvtSyodwBZiETf6xAFOUi3kckfHpcSfARpQgaohyGI-Myv9H1pMyEiILEg9xCC9633HE/s640/blogger-image-937195182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HLyzseWNWnWMYpM09YMyeEAJXhUVVDU3da0CJxOlrP15y4r9Ps6bJJT2ptM86srkvtSyodwBZiETf6xAFOUi3kckfHpcSfARpQgaohyGI-Myv9H1pMyEiILEg9xCC9633HE/s640/blogger-image-937195182.jpg"></a></div><br>
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<i><b>"ring a ring a roses<br>
a pocket full of posies<br>
ashes, ashes<br>
we all fall down"</b></i><br>
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yeah. this is the plague motherfleckers. (i still can't believe mike of suits could mention this word on network tv). the rosy rash was a symptom, they thought posies could ward off the disease, sneezing (ashes, ashes) meant that dudeimsosorryyoureterminal and falling down means, well, dying. puts a different spin on when our parents will sing the damn thing to us and make us fall down at the end, everybody laughing, doesn't it?<div><br></div><div>there are loads more. rock a bye baby, pop goes the weasel, blah blah blah. i think you're better off reading harry potter to your kids.</div></div>Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-4441242103378212972013-09-10T12:52:00.000+08:002013-09-10T12:53:12.311+08:00bald is the new boldthe recent st margaret's brouhaha on the botak girls have been discussed in the media, blogs, kopitiams and over mahjong sessions to death. so what's stopping me from jumping on the bandwagon? nothing. <br />
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there are always two sides of the story and it seems like this controversy has garnered two opinions on either end of the spectrum - the "oh my god, what a bitch. can't she see that this is for charity?" and "tsk. these two girls should adhere to the school rules since they have already agreed." so where do i stand? i'm not all that sure really.<br />
<br />
because if plmgs under winnie tan's reign had such a good cause to be part of, i would have done it. shaved my hair and wear my 'charity' side proudly to the world. and if there was an agreement in place that i had to wear a wig after said shaving, i might have gone the same route as the girls and insisted on not wearing. but you see, my parents would have given me an ass whooping if i came home botak and that's all the difference it makes.<br />
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because plmgs and st margaret's have this very strong - 'no lesbians' policy. it just differs on how much they enforce it. i don't know about now, but all we had in plmgs was demerit points and swimming caps for libbie tan. i got benched in sec 3 when my netball teacher found a letter i wrote to a girl i liked. the smart girl placed it in between the pages of a book she was handing in. st marg's has a much stronger policy and they enforce it to the letter. and let's face it, the two girls who caused this fracas is as butch as they come. probably more butch than me because contrary to popular opinion, i am guniang like hell.<br />
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sure sure, it's for charity. sure sure, it's SOLIDARITY for the girls who have to undergo chemotherapy and have their hair all off. IF there was a girl in st marg's who was undergoing chemo and had to shave her hair and her classmates rose to the occasion to shave their own, i'm sure that'll be fine. but you see, these girls were seeking attention like we all do at the age of 15 and used a loophole in the system to force the issue to their liking. i'm not saying that they are wrong, cos trust me. i'd probably have done the same thing. why? because i'd be young, gung ho, rebellion is the height of cool and i'd be an idiot. but what i would have are parents who understand that when an agreement is in place, you don't go and beng2 wei3. renege on that agreement, for all the dialect impaired. their parents? threw their common sense out the window and went on a ridiculous rampage. yes. you really want your kids to learn that defying authority is good and you get to win when you do. smart. <br />
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so i guess my position on the whole thing is that kids will do what kids do. authority figures will do what people in authority do. but the parents of the kids should be drawn and quartered for not seeing what their kids were pulling. and all the self righteousness in the world wouldn't be able to settle this matter to my liking.<br />
<br />
oh. and fyi. one of the girls involved actually tweeted. "bye marion". (the principal of SM) that puts the whole thing in perspective doesn't it.Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-6539621939540905142013-09-09T14:19:00.002+08:002013-09-09T15:37:04.189+08:00lil sis getting marriedi want to talk about my sister's wedding. i feel somewhat subdued because my sister is a very private person. the total opposite of me - i have no inbuilt censor whatsoever. i talk about anything and everything. the embarassing things i did, the embarassing things other people do. i'm an entertainer you see, and just like caricatures that are somewhat larger than life, that's how my stories go as well. oh, they're always the truth, but sometimes exaggerations are in order to make the stories that little bit funnier. So i couldn't go on record and talk about the wedding as much as i wanted - well, at least on FB anyway. and since i'm doing this again, i might as well.<br />
<br />
but i don't exaggerate when i say that my sister is the best that i could have had. you can't choose family. god knows, i would be more than happy to swop out a few of my extended family for others. but if i were able to choose, i'd have chosen my sister to be mine every time.<br />
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she was the most timid person ever whilst we were growing up. she actually played truant for two weeks in kindergarten because her teacher told her that they were going to do a show and tell. after the aforementioned two weeks, her teacher actually paid a visit to my home and laughingly told my parents that show and tell week was over. please ask iris to come back to school. but in spite of all that, she gamely put up with all my dangerous antics and jumped into the fray with me. we'd jump off the top stairs from the landing, daring each other who could jump from a higher step. she'd oblige me for bouts of wrestling on my parents' bed because i watched WWF and had a notion to try some of the moves. she'd play obstacle course races - that were imagined up by me and therefore, was life threatening at every turn - and laugh at my grandmother with me when she got all shocked and afraid that my parents wouldn't see their children grow up. <br />
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i think i've mentioned before. i never had friends as a child. my first friend was vanessa who was in my Pri 5 class. so i lived for about 10 years without actually having a friend. and my inferiority complex would be that much greater if i hadn't had my sister every step of the way. because - she was my first friend. my best friend actually. even though i held the 1 and a half years age gap over her unyieldingly and sometimes, very much unfairly. i bullied her within an inch of her life. but to be fair, i didn't allow anyone else to bully her either. god helped anyone who tried to.<br />
<br />
so when my sister got married and it was a total sob fest because she has the most overworked tear ducts in the history of mankind, i went through the day half choked up as well. true story, when the solemniser asked who was giving her away and my parents stood up to say, "we are", i half wanted to stand up and shout that I was giving her away too.<br />
<br />
but she's not away. especially since i still see her at home most of the time because she hasn't quite brought everything over yet. <br />
<br />
and my sister, my friend - i've not lost. because she's blood. and blood she'd always be.<br />
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it's just that now, i have a brother as well.<br />
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<iframe src="//player.vimeo.com/video/73703009" width="400" height="300" frameborder="0" webkitallowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen allowfullscreen></iframe>Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-82564426133425827752013-09-09T12:20:00.001+08:002013-09-09T12:26:55.866+08:00rennaisancedo you remember a time when blogs were all the rage? you read them for the short quips, the whiny rants and the general updates on the person's life. now with facebook, twitter, tumblr and instagram, nobody actually puts words to thoughts anymore. well at least, not in bulk. and except for facebook, the others didn't catch on with me. i've no idea why. so stop asking why my instagram has a measly 4 photos in it.<br />
<br />
i still like to read blogs - jason hahn's, lady iron chef when i wanna get a food review, and xiaxue - if i'm really that bored. I don't quite know what it'll be like if i started blogging again, but since i didn't shut this down, it'll be such a pity if i didn't try again.<br />
<br />
there's a saying - eyes are the windows to one's soul. bullshite. when you look into MY eyes, all you see is that i just want to lie down and sleep, game, read, eat, whatever. operative word being the lying down bit. i really am suited to the indolent lifestyle. ah siao says that if she lies down for more than xx hours, she gets a headache. ah tan concurs with her. even youjin, my laziest friend agrees with that. so is it me? do i have a defect somewhere that says that if i had the means, i would be perfectly fine doing nothing.<br />
<br />
my ex boss asked me once. "what are your aspirations?" well, he did ask me because i tendered and i was pissed at him for being the most incompetent boss i had the displeasure of working under, albeit for 3 months. i answered, "i don't have any aspirations. i want to ask my parents for an early inheritance, buy a condo, rent it out and live on the rental." he had this shocked look like i murdered his firstborn. what. lazy cannot is it?<br />
<br />
but in retrospect, i don't quite consider myself lazy. i just don't like to do things if i don't like them. so what do i like?<br />
<br />
traveling, eating, movies, shows, writing.<br />
<br />
all in all, the perfect recipe for a full time blogger. <br />
<br />
so here you go. here's my rennaisance blog. we'll see if i have enough interesting thoughts to be put down in text for the long haul.Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-8361941395860027582011-12-05T10:54:00.002+08:002011-12-05T11:14:40.176+08:00near deathso by now.. i'm thinking almost everyone knows about my near death experience. and i'm thinking i should somewhat document it. even though i was practically incoherent and delirious for the first few days.<br /><br />i am quite lucky i guess.. i've never gotten headaches. the ones that i've had are pretty minor and curable after two panadols or so. but two weeks ago i was experiencing mind blowing headaches. seriously mad effing pain that killed me. i was rolling around in my bed moaning and hoping someone would take pity on me and put a bullet through my head.<br /><br />after three days of god awful pain, my mum trundled me into the car and drove me to ttsh. which.. really.. if i had any control of myself back then, i would have rebelled against it. i hate ttsh. i've got at least 3 stories of people going in there and coming out the worse for wear. but of course.. i was in agony.. and in no state to be picky. so off i went. and after 8 hours, i finally got admitted.<br /><br />i don't really know what happened next. i pieced it a little from what i hear from other people, but apparently, my blood pressure dropped to about 70. the normal is about 90 plus ish and i got sent off to the ICU in the morning.<br /><br />the next thing i remember was being in the mri machine. and i promptly experienced a panic attack. especially i was unconscious before and nobody told me about no mri. claustrophobia set in and i started to call out weakly for someone to let me out. obviously.. nobody's gonna care about the idiot in the mri. so i started to squirm as best as i can. which i assure you.. was no mean feat. i think i was strapped down to the thing.<br /><br />so they wheeled me out and proceeded to tell me that they'll be doing a lumbar puncture. i forget what i actually said.. but it was along the lines of "HELL NO!" and something about how i watch House M.D. and obviously.. they decided that the opinions of an almost dead kid was unimportant and stuck a huge ass needle in my spine. i remember crying and then it's a blank. i think i blacked out.<br /><br />for about 3 days after that.. i kinda slipped in and out of consciousness.. and when i was feeling better they moved me into the normal ward. icu sounds scary.. but seriously.. the service was so much better. i was in an air conditioned room.. and nobody bothered me.<br /><br />the normal ward was basically a hot pot of all the neurologically wrong people in ttsh. some were drooling.. some were speaking gobberish at all hours. if i stayed there longer.. i think i would have gone mad. as it is.. my friends all proceeded to tell me that i was crazy.<br /><br />jas: i called you on thursday.<br />me: really? i don't remember.<br />jas: i asked you how you were feeling and you said you were relaxing.<br />me: ...!!<br />jas: then i called again and your sis said that the nurse was doing something to you and that you were in icu.<br /><br />philosophically.. i don't really have much to contribute. i know how people always say that when you have a near deth experience.. it changes you and you live each day like it's your last. but seriously speaking. because i was unconscious most of the time for the near death experience.. i'm pretty much back to normal. except for the fact that i woke up this morning with a severe double vision and now i'm all off balance and wonky.<br /><br />well.. that's for another day.Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-83949827646690064932009-08-21T15:58:00.002+08:002009-08-21T17:45:32.412+08:00my doghow can i put years of joy, excitement, pain and sorrow in words.<br />do i tell you about the times i held him and cried over the various heartbreaks i suffered.<br />or do i tell you about the times i danced in joy with him at my side.<br />what about the times he went running with me.<br />or the times i ran after him when he managed to escape.<br /><br />do i talk about the near misses in his life when he got banged down by cars, ran away and didn't know how to come back, multiple surgeries and diseases he suffered.<br />or do i talk about the long good life he had for the last 17 years.<br /><br />should i describe the thunderstorms where he whimpered and came close to me for comfort.<br />or should i expound on the times that he raced across the park to get to me when i call his name.<br /><br />my whole family was present at his death.<br />the same way we were in his life.<br />with much laughter.<br />tears,<br />and many happy memories.<br /><br />i loved you.<br />and i miss you.<br />and you'll never be replaced.<br /><br />i'm never keeping another dog.<br />it's just too painful.<br /><br />goodbye tuffy. you were the best.<br /><br /><img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs146.snc1/5420_106326072613_538692613_1968377_2719648_n.jpg">Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-17809138463489325992009-08-13T21:30:00.002+08:002009-08-13T21:35:51.363+08:00reprievei know i was going to leave off blogging for a while.<br />but i couldn't help but adding this one post.<br /><br />today was a relatively average day for me.<br />considering that i'm supposed to submit an assignment by midnight and i still have 400 words to complete.<br /><br />so a pretty happy me left my office at 6 to go home when i realised i lost my bike keys.<br />@#$%@#$%#$@#$<br />a seriously FML moment.<br />i was pretty much swearing like a sailor.<br /><br />and i knew that this was going to happen sooner or later.<br />i mean come on.<br />my scatterbrain-ness and carelessness would have had to rear its ugly head sometime.<br />and so i left spare keys with karen.<br /><br />so i sat glumly on my bike for about 45 minutes waiting for her to come save me.<br /><br />SERIOUSLY. WASSUP WITH THE LOSING OF THINGS.<br />i NEVER lose my shit.<br />nabei.<br />in the span of a month..<br />i have successfully lost a camera and my bike keys.<br />i'm going to hang stuff around my neck in future.<br />and with my luck..<br />i'll prolly lose my head one day.<br />tsk.Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-69899485976256209082009-08-09T04:45:00.001+08:002009-08-09T04:45:59.027+08:00it's been a good rungoodbye.<br /><br />goodnight.Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-1930514687957602672009-08-02T03:59:00.000+08:002009-08-02T04:00:06.623+08:00steven limi'm sorry gladys.<br />but it's just too funny.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y1A5lBG9ynE&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y1A5lBG9ynE&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-47452900124710663372009-08-01T00:52:00.003+08:002009-08-01T01:11:02.866+08:00ignite mei was looking through my old posts and what i really want to know is..<br />how come i can't write like this anymore...<br /><br /><br />a quest for love and life is never easy.<br />dead ends stopping you in your tracks<br />forcing you to take a longer route.<br />sphinxes in your way<br />asking impossible riddles and questions.<br /><br />on your way to the marvellous prize<br />that is love and satisfaction.<br />you meet dragons, knights and princesses.<br />all these make up the person that you are<br />should you reach your destination unscathed.<br /><br />ignite me.<br />influence me.<br />inspire me.<br /><br />words that can never be spoken out loud<br />without being too corny.<br /><br />ignite the fire within me.<br />push me to be the best that i can be.<br />fire that is life..<br />burning embers that offer you comfort<br />in the dreary absolution of sorrow.<br /><br />influence me.<br />to be the person i want to be.<br />intelligence is always the key.<br />keep me sane from the undesirables<br />that tempt me from betraying myself.<br /><br />inspire me.<br />inspiration of the highest kind.<br />to think better thoughts.<br />to do smarter acts.<br />to have flashes of brilliance<br />coursing through my eyes.<br />a quest we are all on.<br />it’s just a matter of which road you take.<br /><br />your leaders.<br />your followers.<br />your peers who stand by you should danger arise.<br />a perilous journey fraught with innumerable dances with death<br />i’ve had the pleasure of walking down this road.<br />probably more difficult than some had to go through.<br />and probably a little easier than most.<br /><br />most importantly.<br />the people who chose to walk this journey with me.<br />some are still accompanying me.<br />some have dropped off along the way.<br />some are new companions<br />offering me their own life experiences.<br />i offer mine in return.<br /><br />hoping that someday.<br />i’ll be able to<br />ignite<br />influence<br />inspire<br />those around me.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">“If you can lead, lead.<br />If you can follow, follow.<br />If you can’t lead,<br />Can’t follow,<br />Then get the fuck outta my way.”</span><br /><br />Claryce Lim<br />June 1, 2006Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-90142442204094423902009-07-27T05:04:00.002+08:002009-07-27T05:07:31.672+08:00deadi'm so screwed. <br /><br />i need to be awake in 2 hours for my first day of work and i can't get to sleep after 6 hours of tossing and turning.<br /><br />i've got a tutorial tomorrow that i really can care less about.<br /><br />i've got an assignment due on thursday and i haven't bought the novel.<br /><br />spell dead with me people.<br /><br />d-e-a-d.<br /><br />on the other hand.<br />kim bought me and karen gold class tickets for harry potter on tues thus punctuating my very horrendous week.<br />loves.<br />i will no longer be the only person in the world who hasn't watched the film adaptation of my favourite series.<br />THANK YOU KIM.Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29093417.post-37581931278894451422009-07-20T10:27:00.004+08:002009-07-20T11:25:53.123+08:00treading carefullythings happen to me the way flies get stuck to honey traps.<br />really.<br />i don't understand why.<br /><br />bangkok was great. although i needed a week to get over it. really. i'm still reeling from the tiring trip that had karen lug home three quarters of pratunam home. i don't understand how someone needs so many pairs of leggings. but apparently, i am overthrown by the girls because jasmine bought quite a few herself even in her suspected H1N1 mode. yerp. she could actually shop in fever and flu. ha. scary.<br /><br />i lost karen's camera. well, technically, someone stole her camera from my bag. it's all a very heartaching affair. and a very expensive lesson to learn since i'm buying a new one for her.<br /><br />xinyi gave me a preview of how suay i could be the previous night prior to "the robbery". since she was only staying 2 nights, she bunked in with karen and me on our king sized bed. i was sleeping in the middle. where else. when the two of them tugged on the blanket, it actually rose from my body and suspended in the air.<br /><br />xinyi: i want to go $%^&'s house. (in chinese)<br />me: (sleepily) what did you say?<br /><br />i turned around and saw her eyes open staring straight at me.<br />i couldn't sleep for the next half hour.<br /><br />the next day.<br /><br />me: xinyi! you freaked me out! how come you talk and open your eyes when you sleep one?!<br />xinyi: oh yah. my mother told me i do that sometimes.<br />me: ..... <br />me: i don't care if you talk. i don't care if you open your eyes when you sleep. how come you can do both and look in my direction leh.<br />xinyi: i can't explain it to you claryce.<br /><br />i don't see how she could have not given a disclaimer before she got into bed with us.<br /><br />ha.<br />sounds wrong but whatever.<br /><br />i have not really thought of myself as a stupid person.<br />maybe generically average in intelligence.<br />but i am not really far ahead in life if you get what i mean.<br /><br />i turn 27 tomorrow.<br />and i'm still stuck in a dead end job.<br />starting my second quarter of my degree.<br />and seriously speaking..<br />i am at the stage in my life where i should have been 6 years ago.<br /><br />so in a bid to not jinx it.<br />i am whispering my yays to the world as i announce the fact that although i am suay enough to have a camera lifted out of my bag off my back and have xinyi getting her freak on right next to me..<br /><br />one week from now.. i am going to be a marketing executive at fluke.<br /><br />they sell digital imaging stuff aside from other engineering products and if i can finagle to get one, i scan my dog to see if he's still alive instead of peering to see if he's breathing.<br /><br />a full time job. in a position that i am qualified for. that i studied about. right smack dab in a full on recession.<br /><br />*looks up to heaven* <br />please don't let me screw it up.<br /><br />happy birthday to me.<br /><br />*beams*<br /><br />me: i am a late bloomer you know.<br />jas: better to bloom late than never bloom at all. some people just wilt.<br /><br />i love my friends very much. they contrive to not make me seem like a loser.Clarycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08206306690440123990noreply@blogger.com0