A comment from an ex-team leader about me on Friday made me ponder.

About how much I've grown, or rather, how much more street-wise I've become at work.

Before I move too ahead of myself, let me fill you in on the event that brought about the comment.

Something cropped up at work last-minute on Friday, which was brought to the attention of my ex-team leader, and resulted in her having to drag her ass into the picture. I wasn't really handling the case, because my colleague from the same team was handling it, but as she had to go off work in a rush, and I was the only one left, she brought the case to my attention and asked me to call her if it could not be settled.

After my colleague left, my ex-team leader (let's call her Y) came to me and said she did the best she could, that there's nothing much else she could do for the case. I immediately called up my colleague on her mobile, and had her fill me in on the background of the case.

The entire time that I was conversing with my colleague on the phone, and firing her questions along the way, Y was standing next to me, listening in on the conversation.

She heard something that I'd said on the phone, which prompted her, and she immediately took action.

Turned out that that something that I'd said gave her an idea, which helped us to solve the case in a jiffy.

When I'd put down the phone, she filled me in, and true enough, the case was settled afterwards just because of that.

Then she said something which surprised me.

Y (in Mandarin): Ni jing bu le. (roughly translated as "You've improved")

When I gave her a surprised look, she explained herself.

And this was what she said:

When you first joined us, you readily believed everything that other people said, and seldom questioned. But now, you know how to question and ask for evidence to show that something has been done. That is an improvement.

And I knew immediately that she was right.

I've always tended to trust people too easily, and to believe others' words too readily.

It's only after I've started working that I feel that I've grown up, that I know instinctively which words to believe and which words to doubt; when I should take action, and when I should not; when I should bring my boss into the picture and when I could solve it on my own.

And this is what you call experience.

Really, I've only worked for 8 months.

For 8 months, I've grown alot.

Alot.

I was reminded of why I loved the Wedding Singer so much tonight.

It must have been at least the 3rd 4th time that I've seen the movie on tv since I first caught it in the cinema way back when I was still in secondary school.

I'm a diehard romantic at heart, I guess.

How, may I ask, can any girl resist its perennial theme of love and romance that is captured so poignantly in the show?

My favourite scene in the movie happens towards the ending, when the character Billy Idol (the rock star) poses as the captain making an in-flight announcement to the plane's passengers.

Every time I watch that scene, I'll repeat the lines after him.

Especially: ".. and since we pretty much let our first-class passengers do whatever they want, here he is.."

Enter Adam Sandler with his crooning:


- "Grow Old With You" -

I wanna make you smile whenever you're sad
Carry you around when your arthritis is bad
All I wanna do is grow old with you.
I'll get your medicine when your tummy aches build you a fire if the furnace breaks
Oh it could be so nice, growin old with you.

I'll miss you, kiss you, give you my coat when you are cold.
Need you, feed you, I'll even let you hold the remote control.
So let me do the dishes in the kitchen sink
Put you to bed when you've had too much to drink.
Oh I could be the man to grow old with you.

I wanna grow old with you.


Which girl in her right mind won't say yes to a guy who came up with such a song for her?

Not me.

Not anybody.

I got I got I got I got I got I got I got I got

myself

a

Tiffany & Co.

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necklace


I told you I'm crazy, didn't I?


And now item 6 on my wishlist has been slashed.

I'm moving slowly but steadily.

Oh yeah.

I can't seem to shake myself out of this sombre mess that I'm in.

This emotional dip.

This lack of exuberance in life. In anything.

Maybe it's the monthly syndrome, you speculate.

But I know it's more than that.

It's more than this feverish spell that I have right now. This sickly feeling in my gut.

In fact, I'm feeling so miserable that I don't think I can finish this post, even.

I'm.plain.unhappy.

That's just it.

And all I want to do is hide under my bedsheets and cry.

Don't ask me why.

I won't deny that I have bouts of moments when I just think that I'm not good enough. Or pretty enough. Or whatever enough.

And these moments normally appear after I meet someone who's more gorgeous/richer/loved/happier than I am. Some girl who most probably exudes a combination of all of the above.

And the feelings of unsettlement set in.

And you start to think about your whole life, from childhood to when you begin puberty to whatever you've become now, and you start pinpointing exact details of your life that have gone awry.

Like how you were born into the wrong family, perhaps.

Or how you should have done something to set things right when you were still young and could afford it, like fixing your teeth, for example.

Or how deep within you, you know that you're never gonna meet that handsome, chivalrous, rich and sensitive guy who will sweep you off your feet and promise you a life of eternal happiness, though that's what the fairytale books would have you believe since you were a kid. Not until you do actually meet someone like that in reality, though the irony is, you're not the princess in the story.

And how you know that you're most probably going to marry an average dude and lead an average life, give birth to average-looking kids with average IQ, stay in an average HDB house with perhaps, an average car.

This whole life is just preparing you for mediocrity.

The mediocrity of your life.

Whenever I can't help but think of this, I cry.

Call me ignorant, but if I did not know any better, I would have thought that Bar None was a bar just like any other.

Today, however, changed my perspective entirely.

It is undisputedly the best club/bar that I've been to (which is not much, since I haven't been to many places).

The band was the best that I had seen a local one perform, complete with a really awesome sound system, a cosy enough atmosphere, and well, a cute guitarist. LOL

Not only that (as if the cute guitarist was not reason enough), the club plays really good songs to dance to in between sets.

So for the entire time that I had been there, I could not only dance to the band's music, as well as to the songs that the club played.

There is one thing, however.

The club-goers are on the more mature side, as the age limit there is 23 for girls and 25 for guys.

So expect to see a good handful of expats/tourists who stay in the Marriot hotel itself, as well as working adults.

You definitely won't see the army boys there, nor the uni students.

It's an "uppity" bar, if I may say so myself.

Just for your info, Douglas O sings there with the band on occasional sets.

Other than him, the main lead singer has a really good tattoo-ed bod and of course, voice.

I only saw his tattoo-ed bod because he did a mini strip-tease thingy for 2 girls who had their birthdays celebrated there.

One of whom, was my friend.

And boy, was she utterly embarrassed at that.

Which was a pity, really.

How often do you get a guy with a good bod doing a strip-tease for you in front of dozens of people?

Not likely to get lucky twice. Uh huh. =)

And oh yes, back to the cute guitarist.

He wasn't cute in the conventional way, as in he didn't have the typical good looks.

In fact, he had a messy mop of long hair which just doesn't do it for me.

Not only that, his dress sense conspired to bring him to oblivion.

But still, he was cute in his own way.

Which just goes to show that you need not have the entire package to come across as attractive to a group of young women well past their hormonal age.

What he does have, however, is the most amazing voice which he put to good use when doing a rendition of Hoobastank's The Reason.

Plus, he's one guy who plays the fastest and most brilliant guitar.

If he were to join Who Wants To Be A Millionaire's Fastest Finger Contest, I'm sure he would win hands-down.

In that sense, he toppled the law that said that attractive men can't sing for nuts (and play good guitar whilst at it).

But, all these aside, the reason why he caught my eye (literally) was because our eyes happened to meet a few times and each time, he smiled the warmest smile at me.

And that was just it.

Some kind of strange connection between 2 strangers who had never met.

Each time the band came back to perform another set, it would happen again.

At first I took it as he was looking at the audience in general, and not any one in particular.

But I was situated at the side of the bar, and the only people around me were my girlfriends.

So I thought, maybe he was smiling at one of the girls with me.

But as it happened progressively, that presumption had to be overthrown.

As our eyes met increasingly, the expression on his face seemed to change.

It grew to turn into a look that seemed to be studying me, as if trying to figure an answer to who I am.

And that's the story.

Of how the first married man charmed me.

I come home after a long hard day at work, and what do I find?

A room that I recognise no more.

My mum cleared my room for me by adopting one single modus operandi.

By hiding everything away in huge boxes.

What is it with parents, you wonder?

Even at age 23, they want to mess with your life.

Sure, I appreciate the help and effort that she took to clear my room for the impending CNY, but don't they just understand that I like the way things are??

What's wrong with mess??

Least it's my mess, and when you know your mess, it ceases to be mess no more.

Sigh.

I miss my old room already.