If you notice, you can see that I'd added an additional column to the left.

It's titled "Wish-List", and no prizes for guessing what that means.

It's a list that I'd deliberately made a lil unattainable, though not entirely.

These days, I feel like splurging on myself.

I think the most expensive item that I'd bought for myself to date was probably my first handphone, which cost $200 over.

And I'm really deliberating, deliberating on a N7270 or a luxe item from Tiffany & Co.

It's really sad though, when I have to be the one to buy my first blue box.

My first diamond.

It just loses its special meaning when you're the one buying it for yourself.

Not to mention, you get the additional bolt of guilt when you're the one splurging on yourself, like you shouldn't do so, and should hafta put the money to better use instead, like save for a rainy day, buy an insurance policy, plan for your wedding of a lifetime, etc etc.

But all I really want is Tiffany!!

*whines*

If I'm mad enough, I'll do it, I swear.

I've just finished my weekend-long birthday celebrations, and I guess it's time for a day-by-day recount.

But first, I'll start by thanking all those who dropped me a birthday greeting by sms/msn:

- TC
- Suching
- Diana Lum
- Boon
- Yingling
- Adrian
- Jialun
- Marie
- Xueqin
- Mdm (Boss)
- Xinyu
- Ben Wong
- Cheryl
- Edwin
- Lynette
- Jason
- Junling
- Diana Tay
- Weijian
- Karen

Hmm. Hope I didn't miss anyone out.

Of course, this list doesn't include those whom I'd met personally and gave me a birthday handshake/hug/kiss.

On the eve of my birthday, I stayed at a friend's place and watched AMI after a casual dinner at Billy Bombers. How idyllic.

On my birthday itself, I got sloshed at Phuture after having dinner at a Jap restaurant with my colleagues. Thanks to all those who turned up that night. Despite the pathetic state that I got myself into, I enjoyed myself tremendously.

On the day after my birthday, I met my usual sec sch gal gang and we had a yummy-licious dinner at this new italian cafe place at Raffles City. Can't remember the name of the place though, it's so "chimn" and forgettable. If you're there, try the Lamb Shank, it's gawddamn heavenly!

On the day after after my birthday, I met my usual 32/99 gang and we had lunch at Cafe Cartel in PS. I ate my new-found fave Panfried Linguine, but it doesn't fill me up much. Afterwards, we did our usual gal-shopping, I missed doing that with them.

So that's it, the end of my weekend-long holi-cum-birthday.

And the pressies that I'd received?

- One bikini from Roxy. (I loved it! Though my aim this year, and the year before that, is to be as fair as Fann Wong. So guess, I won't be using the bikini much. ho ho)
- One original soundtrack from the Phantom of the Opera
- One Guess? watch
- One birthday card
- One yummy-looking nail polish from Lancome
- One pair of earrings
- One bottle of Lancome's new fragrance, Miracle So Magic! (though how different it is from its predecessor, Miracle, I can't tell. I have both fragrances at the moment)
- One $50 cash voucher from Mango

Anyone has more pressies for me? Belated ones are most welcome. ho ho ho

Post Birthday Blues


Ok, this proves it.

I'm totally not a good drinker.

This is the second time that I've officially gotten wasted and aka made a scene outta myself.

I refuse to accept this fact though, this fact that I can't go beyond anything than a glass of vodka.

What exactly did I drink? Let's see.

- One glass of Screwdriver (vodka with orange)
- Many many sips of Long Island Tea
- One shot of pure, plain vodka (really potent stuff)


How can it be, right? That I could actually get myself drunk on the above.

I think my system just totally rejects alcohol. *looks around for more excuses*

Can't recall how many times I've puked, but I left several prints behind outside Zouk and Phuture. Er-hem.

Thanks to my good gal-pals though, who took good care of me. Oh yah, and a male colleague was really helpful as well.

At least I only get drunk when I know that I'm in good hands.

So cut me some slack, yah? heheh.

Ok, back to more sleep. Ta-dah!

And that makes me officially 23. Boo hoo.

TODAY'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!!

HAPPY HARI RAYA HAJI, EVERYONE. =)

CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO MY POSTS???

WHY IS THE TEXT OUT OF THE MARGIN?????

Happy Lil Bunny


Imma happy lil bunny today.

Sohappymywordsarestucktogether
asItrytostringthemoutinsentences.

Okay, before you think that I've gone mad, lemme just clarify that I'm not happy HAPPY.

I'm cheery happy.

First things first, I didn't suffer from Monday blues today.

I didn't feel smothered by work, a feeling which I normally get on Mondays after a short weekend hiatus.

Maybe it's because I came to work yesterday, on a Sunday.

And secondly, I had a pretty wild time at work today, laughing and enjoying myself like I'm working at the playground of all times.

Seriously, we're a bunch of loonies, we are.

Our childish behaviour can be pretty embarrassing, if I dare say so myself.

I got into a "fight" with a guy at work, and we kinda punched each other.

Yah, I'm not kidding.

He gave me the hardest hand squeeze I had in years and almost killed me.

That sonabitch also gave me a punch in the shoulder.

Of course I retaliated, I wouldn't let him off easily, no siree.

I'd almost kicked his b*lls, but decided not to aim for the kill, and kicked his leg instead.

Yups, I hadn't gotten into a fight with a guy for quite a while, and certainly not from work. ho ho ho


Newbie Alert!


Not only that, we had 3 newbies reporting for work today, 1 of which is a guy from NUS Bizad, same batch as me, a friend's friend.

It was a coincidence, really.

I was chatting to this same guy who came into our office for an interview with the big boss months ago.

Months later, he turned up for work.

And I found out that we have a mutual friend, and from the same school.

Cool.

Psst, did I mention too that he's quite a dish? haha, cheeky me.

So it was a pretty fun day at work.

PLUS (and it's a major PLUS), I WENT FOR A MANICURE AFTER WORK TODAY!!!!!!

Wish I can show you a pic, but I don't have a digicam, boo hoo.

My nails are now painted a nice dark red, plum shade.

With nail art (crystals), of course.

I.am.so.gonna.flaunt.them.at.work.tomorrow.

Oh, you betcha.

I'm sitting here in my coldashell (shucks, that's an oxymoron) office typing away on my blog on the pretext of work.

It's a Sunday, what am I doing here, you ask.

Well (shrugs), beats me.

The time's 4:55pm, and although I've cleared some work, that's not the reason why I'm supposed to be here.

The reason why I'm supposed to be here on a cheery (I beg your pardon, dreary) Sunday afternoon hasn't manifested itself yet.

And I'm still waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

Hum-dum, what a bum.

By the way, on a sidenote, I'm wearing a new bra today from Women's Secrets that I'd just bought last night and it's gawddamn comfortable!!

Too bad it's the last piece though, or I would head back today to get more.

I'm on an underwear frenzy, buying new underwear to last me for an entire year without wearing the same one over.

I'm just kidding, lol.

Is there any woman out there who doesn't love new underwear, raise your armpit-hair arm.

See, NO ONE.

ho ho ho

Which brings me to my next point.

My blog's getting frivolous.

I don't write about serious issues anymore, such as world hunger, global-warming, the destruction of endangered species, the tsunamis, love, peace and goodwill to men.

Instead, I write about cabs and bras.

Am I getting frivolous? Or worse.. (dare I say it?).. the big B.

Bimbotic.

Bitchy.

Both "B"s with capital Bs.

Gosh. I don't wanna turn into the next Miss XiaXue.

Maybe it's not such a bad thing, after all.

Ever wondered why the blinking words atop a Comfort cab (that says: Change Shift) are in green?

When green will only work perfectly well at night and not in broad daylight (which means you can't see no shite)?

When green has already been sealed in our closed minds to signal availability? (Similar to green = safe to walk = go for the traffic lights)

But no, a change in shift doesn't exactly mean the cabby will take you, no? Simply because that will depend on whether or not the destination you're headed to fits in nicely with the cabbie's (or it simply depends on the cabbie's mood that particular moment as he sees you flagging away like a maniac).

So why green?

God only knows how many times I've cussed under my breath at the sheer stupidity of using that colour to denote a change in shift for the cabby. IF they can use red to indicate that the cab's taken, they can jolly well use another colour to denote a change in shift, such that we don't confuse it with a (really) available cab.

And once again, why green in broad daylight?

I can see the colour, but I cannot see the WORDS. Not unless they come within 5m of me.

I think I'm doomed to tell cab stories on my blog forever.

Questions:


Would you stay in a job that you aren't crazy over, yet not loathe it enough to throw in the towel?

Would you stay in a job just 'cos you feel that you won't be able to find a better-paying one anytime soon?

Would you stay in a job where you don't exactly feel like you're making any significant changes, although your work is somewhat recognized (or so you think)?

Does job satisfaction come inwardly (intrinsic motivation, ah-hah!) or does it result from external sources such as work environment and pay? Or is it a combination of both extrinsic and intrinsic motivation?

I'd studied enough modules in Business to understand just how extrinsic and intrinsic motivation work. But to actually find such cases in your own life and treat it as a minor study of some sort is kinda fascinating.

What I'm actually saying is, I don't know what I'm working for.

Or rather, what I'm in this job for.

It's such an overwhelming question in my life that I have sleepless nights just pondering about it. Or sleepless nights where I end up blogging about it. Which kinda makes this a damn boring post, by the way.

I apologize.

This girl is lost.

I'm horrendously tired, I'm frustrated, and I'm just on plain PMS mode.

And I'm real sick of work.

I can't tell you how glad I am that tomorrow's Friday.

This week had me feeling like I've been on continual treadmill. The pace never stops.

It's practically draining the life outta me.

I have eyebags now.

I look twice my age.

I'm haggard, and constantly low on energy levels.

There are days when you just feel like NOT going to work, but you can't, and have to drag your pathetic self out of bed.

This same pathetic self goes through the day in a blurry dash, without really clearing any real work.

The files just keep piling up on my table. The applications just keep coming in like flood-mail.

The only difference is, I don't have to handle 100 emails a day anymore.

I can't even take leave off work in peace, without feeling guilty, like I shouldn't be doing it.

Hallooo, it's MY leave. I deserve it.

So why am I feeling this way?

There's really something seriously wrong here.

Doesn't this look absolutely drool-worthy? It's my ultimate dream-car - the Merc SLK Roadster -_-"

Emotional blackmail of the year:


If you won't comment, I won't blog.

If you won't tell me how much you missed me, I won't blog.

If you won't tell me how much you love me, I won't blog.

I learn fast, lol.

And I learnt this from Gracie. lalalala


**

For a moment, I thought I'd committed a social taboo in my last post, which is why NOBODY left me any comments. I thought I'd horrified all my readers and scared them away, ho ho ho.

Well, if bitchy isn't your cup of tea, I promise to be nice from now onwards. Nice like spice, ho that rhymes!

I'm dancing in my room like a lunatic, somebody shoot me.

Did I tell you I'm actually looking forward to my birthday this year?

I'm bringing all my pals (sec sch gal gang & colleagues at UOB) out to a night of drinks and wobbling (of fats) on Fri nite (21st Jan).

Do come along, any of you who reads this and who knows me.

I haven't really decided on the location of choice yet, any suggestions, anyone?

Exchange of the week:


Girl (happily enjoying her Oreo McFlurry as she heads back to office after lunch) is stopped midway by a grinning Malay/Indian/Eurasian guy with a suspicious agenda.

SGM (Suspicious Grinning Man): Hi Mdm, can I talk to you about... (stopped mid-sentence by Girl with Oreo)

GWO (Girl With Oreo): I'm sorry, I'm in a rush. Heading back to office.. (gesturing towards the office building as GWO continues walking)

SGM: It'll only take 30 seconds, Mdm. I want to talk to you about a donation for children (blah blah blah)...

Note to reader: Although calling a decently-clad lady "Mdm" is pretty courteous, be careful of over-usage as it makes Girl feel OLD (a MAJOR taboo, tsk tsk).

GWO (starting to feel irritated now): Sorry.. (Continues walking and ignores SGM)

SGM (delivers an ultimatum): Don't you believe in charity, Mdm?

Ah-hah!

Dear reader, at this point, please note that SGM has committed 2 (2!) major boo-boos!

For your own well-being (in case you should ever bump into a GWO when doing similar part-time jobs), never never never persist on being a leech when your "prey" has made it obvious that he/she is not interested. It may be that time of the month (for the female), it may be that Man U just lost to Arsenal the night before (for the male), but NEVER NEVER NEVER over-step that boundary. Clinging on despite an early refusal not only shows a lack of courtesy for the other party, it also goes to indicate just how desperate a salesman you are.

Secondly (boo-boo no. 2), NEVER NEVER use emotional blackmail (especially when it comes to donations and such). They can back-fire badly (REAL BADLY) in your face, as the rest of the drama shows.


Flashback:

SGM (in a slightly accusing tone): Don't you believe in charity, Mdm?

GWO (mightily mightily pissed off now, looks at him from the corner of her right eye, and says in a deadly tone): Yah, I'm heartless. (Never letting her pace fall all the time)

SGM (clearly taken aback at her reaction, his signature grin has been wiped off clean from his face by now, is lost for words for just a second, and stammers): Then you're just part of 1%. (1% of what, you moron? Of the genius clan??!!)

GWO pretends not to hear, and continues walking, all the while enjoying her Oreo McFlurry.


Moral of the story if you did not understand anything at all from the above exchange:

NEVER DISTRACT A GIRL FROM HER OREO MCFLURRY WHEN SHE NEEDS IT BIG-TIME. OR YOU WILL SUFFER BIG-TIME TOO. THANK YOU.

No time to blog, no strength of concentration.

I'm just getting a kick outta seeing a new post come up here, even if it's a really mundane, silly one as "No time to blog, no strength of concentration".

P.S. and whatever does "no strength of concentration" mean anyway?

I think my English's screwed up after such a long hiatus of penning down me thoughts.

Ignore me.

I'm on mighty cranky, pms-y mood.

I'm just cranky 'cos this moron from my company just quit abruptly last week by tendering his resignation on Thursday and leaving promptly the day after, on Friday.

This guy's a fresh grad like me, only difference is, he's got First-Class Hons from NTU Biz.

And the reason why he's quitting?

'Cos Deutsche Bank had offered him some dubious "Analyst" job, and gave him a salary of $4k over.

THAT'S MORE THAN 4000 BUCKAROOS.

That's at least a 75% increment of his current salary (which was $2.7k).

For a fresh grad with like what, 4 months of work experience?

Am I freaking jealous or am I freaking jealous?

No prizes for guessing the right answer.

And I wouldn't be complaining, ordinarily, if I had felt with all of my heart, soul, my entire being (!), that this guy deserved that amount of cash each month.

no No NO.

From his stint with us, I feel that he doesn't even deserve a salary of anything more than $3k (and the only reason for that is because he has that blawdy First-Class Hons, nothing else).

Whatever the hell are the good souls at Deutsche Bank thinking??!!!

If they wanna play the Good Samaritan, and be mighty charitable with their moolah, they can just contact me at my mobile and I'll give them my bank account number pronto. UOB account number, no less.

Am I loyal to my bank or what?

ho ho ho.

Someone just whack me hard across the head, I can't take this any longer.

I can't take injustice of any sorts; it simply destabilizes me, throws me off-balance, off-guard, messes with my whole world view, and basically, does nothing short of screwing up my internal system.

ARGH ARGH ARGH.

Here it comes.

WHY AM I STRUGGLING WITH A MEASLY, MINUSCULE, NOT-WORTH-MENTIONING PAY OF $2.2K PER MONTH WHEN SOME OTHER HALF-SLOB, ARROGANT, LAZY IDIOT IS EARNING MORE THAN TWICE MY PAY???!!!!!

AND WHY AM I STUCK IN THIS JOB THAT GIVES ME PAPER CUTS AND SORE ARMS LIKE I'VE BEEN DOING SO MUCH MANUAL LABOUR WHEN IN FACT ALL I'VE BEEN DOING IS OPENING COUNTLESS ENVELOPES OF ALL SHAPES AND SIZES YOU WOULDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT THEY EXIST IN THE FIRST PLACE WHEN I CAN BE DOING SOMETHING MUCH MORE MEANINGFUL LIKE DEFENDING AN INNOCENT MAN'S RIGHTS IN THE LEGAL COURT OR SAVING A POOR DYING MAN'S LIFE BY PERFORMING THE ULTIMATE STYLE-OF-THE-ART SURGERY OF ALL TIMES??!!!

WHY WHY WHY???!!!!

Phew. That was tiring.

If you bothered to read up to this point, congratulations, my friend.

You have just witnessed the longest rant that yours truly has made in a single breath to date.

*Applause all around*

And shite.

I just remembered something.

A few people from work could jolly well be reading this.

If that's the case, let me just state that the author shall not be held liable for any words, comments, rants, complaints, insinuations, instigations, assumptions, etc (basically the whole damn blog), that she has/ will make in this space from henceforth. Amen.

So now I'm on the list?


I got home late this evening from work and what do I find?

A huge fat envelope sitting atop my bed, as if expecting me for a jolly long time.

I looked at the envelope, and experienced deja vu. Over at my workplace, I see business envelopes like this EVERYDAY. EVERY WAKING MOMENT OF THE DAY. It's not enough that I get paper cuts from over-zealousness on my part at handling these paper products, it's not enough that I have to open like 5000 envelopes a day to personally assess all the applications for company loans that come in, it's not enough that I have to seal important documents in such envelopes everyday and worry for the rest of the week that I've just sent the wrong set of documents to the wrong company. It's not enough, it's not enough...

It's not enough to remind me of work though. This lil nasty envelope wants to remind me of something far more evil.

It wants to give me a huge slap across the face, jab me in the ribs, and laugh out loud at me, saying: "Look who just got admitted into SDU!!!"

Yah, alrighty. I admit it.

I'm now a proud member of the Social Development Unit. Hooray.

Free membership, with numerous perks, they promise ya.

Like I am so blawdy flattered, really.

Though there's one thing that I would admit.

I was secretly scouring the pamphlets and brochures for cuties. Note: Guys and gals alike.

Heey. That's what the SDU is for, right?

Although, of course, I haven't turned psychopathic and actually ignored the fact that they are models.

So now then, someone please tell me what good is the SDU?

New Year, New Beginnings

I thought the new year marked new beginnings. Which is why I'd decided to set up a new blog. Don't really ask me why. I hardly have the leisure these days to blog anyways. I don't know why I even bother.

Anyhow, I couldn't access my old blog to make any new postings. Guess Blogger decided that this owner's been away for far too long, and had probably removed any access. I kinda miss posting in my old cyber-space. But I guess this marks a new beginning instead.

In any case, I'd wanted to post a list of my New Year's Resolutions for 2thousand5.
It's not like I stick to the list as the year goes by anyways. But anyhow...

1. Get my driving licence. This one's been waaay overdue.
2. Make one trip overseas. Somewhere I've never been to before. Which is really easy since I haven't been around much other than this homeland.
3. Save regularly. I know, cliched it is. But you're talking about one major spendthrift here. This isn't going to be easy.
4. Visit the dentist. As if any of you visits the dentist regularly. Don't bullshit, yah.
5. Continue popping those pills and doing all I can to make sure my skin clears up. And stays that way. Otherwise I'll personally burn down the NSC.
6. Start doing yoga on a regular basis. Last year, I took the initiative to take up golf lessons, which I'm very proud of. I've just gotta learn to keep things that way for good. *nods sagely*
7. Be more sociable, less reclusive, take the initiative to meet up with old friends. Like reeally old friends from pri sch and all.
8. Eat healthily. Cut down on fast food (tho' it's really convenient), eat my greens, take cereals for breakie, drink milk, take vitamins, chant the mantra, etc. I'm just kidding about the last part.
9. Continue to read as much as I can. This includes the papers, which I abhore touching. Read the classics, the bestsellers, the self-help books that promise to help you attain financial freedom, yadah-yadah.
10. Get that promotion. This one's trickier, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed.