Tuesday, October 28

It really shouldn't bother me...but it does.

Got some hate mail regarding a story I wrote about how tall people earn more money throughout their lives, simply because of their height. [According to the study done, tall people make about US$789 more for every 2.5cm annually, in case you want to compare with your colleagues.]

A reader who insisted that he is "not so short" sent a nasty email condeming me for running down short people and ended with: "Why don't you write something about a discepancy in a person which I think you can be the main subject -- Ugliness. Round fat chubby face with a pair of eyes that look like a mongoloid."

It's a low blow, and I'm still reeling from it.

Sunday, October 26

I have no friends. Please be my friend on Friendster.

So what if it is a mutual admiration society? I like receiving glowing compliments and licking my friends' asses.

Saturday, October 25

How much would you want to know?

Suppose someone from your recent past just got married. Would you like to have all the details about his wife, how they met, where they went for their honeymoon?

So I found out that a certain’s someone’s new wife is apparently very nice and very rich, that they met only this year, that they flew a whole bunch of friends to Phuket for the wedding and just got back from their honeymoon in Mauritius.

A couple of my friends actually knew all these juicy details but thought it would hurt if I got to hear about it and so didn’t tell me.

Call me a masochist, but I want to know everything, not only to satisfy my curiosity, but also to make me face up to the reality of it. Sure, there was an unpleasant twist in the heart when I heard, but I’m a big girl now, I can handle it.

Friday, October 24

Ever stayed awake for so long that sleep becomes a distant memory?

Have been awake for more than 21 hours straight, doing nothing else besides work and griping about work. In less than a month back on the job, I've already lost 2kg. This is better than Marie France Bodyline. [By the way, the ad never fails to crack me up: "Can't shake off the shadow of your pregnancy?"]

Going to try to sleep now for a few hours before heading to the dem office in the morning. There goes my Deepavali.

Sunday, October 19

Usually, when people ask “What did you do over weekend?”, my answer is “Nothing much”. But yesterday, I had such an action-packed day that I spent the whole of today practically horizontal, just recuperating.

Saturday’s itinerary
10.30 am Breakfast at KFC. Surprised to discover that it no longer has the breakfast menu, so had the new Bandito Pockett, which was very good.
11 am Go-kart racing. Arms aching from non-power steering and face red from accidentally mounting the grass verge and going against the flow of traffic.
12.30 pm Karaoke at K Box while having lunch. Or rather, my lurve sang and shovelled fried rice into her mouth at the same time, while I just sat and laughed at her inner pop idol.
2 pm Express manicure and pedicure. Now I have pretty hands and pretty feet.
3.30 pm Quick $10 haircut at Far East. Waited 15 minutes, haircut took another 15 minutes.
4 pm Shopping at Tangs with help of personal shopper. Wonderful discovery as it is fast and free.
5.20 pm Whirlwind tour of Singapore Art Museum. Must-see exhibits include Yoshioka's Chair in a vast white room filled with silica and a video installation called Feeling So What.
6 pm Quick cooking course for dinner parties. Learnt to make sayur lodeh, pandan leaf chicken and achar. Chef kept disparaging my efforts at chopping cucmbers.
8.30 pm Eating of food from cooking class. Yum.
10 pm Witness bar-top dancing at Coyote Ugly. Or should it be buttock dancing?
10.55 pm Catch clubbing bus to next destination. Forced to down sambuca poured straight down the throat. Clubbing bus is fun, must go again next month.
11 pm Bored at China Jump.
12 am Bhangra night at Indochine. Surrounded by beautiful Indian men and women with cheekbones and noses to die for. The most dance-able music in the world.
2 am Totally smashed at Zouk. Remember falling down and being picked up by a pair of clammy hands, but nothing else.
2.30 am Being sent home. Seal's Crazy blasting at maximum volume, with my lurve doing her best karaoke auntie inpersonation in the back seat. Many police cars on the road, shouted "Fuck da polis" at every one of them.
3 am Throw clothes all over the floor. Collapse in bed. Make-up still on.

So, what did you do over the weekend?

Saturday, October 11

A quiet Friday night supper turned into quite an adventure, which ended with a trip to the police station at midnight.

My lurve* and I were at the hawker centre at Adam Road, after my night assignment, greedily eating lala and ice kachang.

[* I have three lurves, all of them gorgeous babes. And no, I’m not lesbian. We just lurve each other very much.]

Suddenly, she realised her bag, which was placed beside her, was moving and this short Chinese man in red was walking very quickly away with it.

With lightning quick reflexes, she threw down her chopsticks and chased after him. I was so engrossed in searching for the last lala among the shells that I didn’t even notice him take her bag. As he almost reached one of the exits, she shouted: “Stop that man!”, just like in those Crime Watch programmes.

Immediately, this giant of an Indian man in a blue T-shirt sprang up from his seat with amazing speed and dexterity, considering how difficult it is to slide in and out of those hawker centre benches, and gave chase. No one else even budged from their seats, including me. My reflexes were so retarded that my chopsticks were still poised in midair. All I saw was a flash of red, and then a flash of blue. Anyway I couldn’t run with my bai kar in heels.

The snatch thief abandoned his loot and ran for his life. My lurve retrieved her bag and sat down. By now, everyone in the hawker centre, which is circular and sort of like an amphitheatre, was staring at our table.

We thought that was the end of it, and were relieved that her wallet and everything else were intact. As we were excitedly rehashing the brief chase -- by this time, we were both clutching our bags protectively -- the Indian guy returned. He had chased the thief all the way out to the road and caught him. Our hero!

Holding him by the collar, our hero ordered the thief to sit down and told us to call the police. While waiting for the police to arrive, the thief kept protesting that he had accidentally hooked the bag and he ran only because he was afraid we’d accuse him of stealing it. By this time, we were really the centre of attraction, and hawkers kept coming up to us to ask us what happened.

When the police finally got there -- it seemed to take very long cos the guy kept insisting his innocence so tiresomely and the Indian guy had to stand over him and command him to sit down and wait -- we handed the thief over and asked for the guy’s name to thank him. And it turned out that he was the Tampines Rovers player, Sasikumar. He seemed to be very paiseh at being recognised.

Because of his public-spirited actions, there was an award ceremony this morning, and the media circus descended. They are going to be on radio and TV and in the papers. They are gonna be stars for the day.

I’m so thankful that he didn’t attempt to snatch my bag, cos with my slow reflexes and total concentration on the lala, he would have definitely succeeded in getting away. The unfortunate thief must cursing himself to have targetted a quick-thinking journalist and to have attempted to out-run a fleet-footed soccer player.

Wednesday, October 8

This is a public service announcement. Make sure your Mom [and grandmothers and aunties] gets a mammogram done. In case you haven't realised, this month is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

For the longest time, I had been nagging my Mom to go "squeeze breasts", as she calls it, but she refused. Her illogical reason? "If I die, I die."

She has this fatalistic streak that says there is no cure for breast cancer, even though I've tried to brainwash her. Finally, I managed to convince her to get her breasts squeezed. I think the fact that my grandmother recently died of breast cancer was the push she needed.

So, I made an appointment for her and marched her down to the polyclinic. She said it was extremely painful -- and she has a very high pain tolerance level -- but for about five seconds only.

The results will only be ready in about a month's time, and my Mom keeps imagining the worst. Just waiting for the all-clear now from the doc, and we'll be home free.

Saturday, October 4

A stay-at-home weekend -- the first since I got back. Lazed around in my PJs with my hair clipped up like an Ah Soh, without a scrap of makeup. Not many people get to see this "At Home Suzanne" look.

Also the first weekend that I haven't touched a drop of booze. Oh dear, that makes me sound like some kind of alcoholic.

Friday, October 3

In deep mourning now cos I was forced to take photo for my byline and my fat cheeks are the size of rice bowls. No amount of flattering/flattening lighting on the part of the sweet photographer could disguise my fat face.

But there is always a faint chance I can persuade the photog to reshoot when I've shed the excess baggage. Think I have dropped 1 kg just after three days of work, cos of skipping meals, running around, lack of sleep, stress and then finally food poisoning today. I can't wait to become as skinny as my overworked colleagues.

Wednesday, October 1

I fear that this is the beginning of the end. First day of work was super busy and super stress, and I don't see things easing up. Pant pant pant.

Between churning out fluffy fashion pieces and assorted stories about weekend stuff -- which is what the ed has assigned as my beat -- and actually having a life, I doubt I'd have much time to write rambling rubbish here.

But supreme skiver that I am, I'm sure I will squeeze some time out, probably during office hours while neglecting actual work. Watch this space.