psa

Yesterday a friend told me, anger clouds judgement. Yesterday I found out first hand, alcohol clouds all sensibility. 

Drink in moderation.

accounting for what counts

This week, I went solo along our favourite jog stretch. 

As much as treadmills keep me efficient – jogging here always keeps me at calm, I love peering across to the skyscrapers and taking in the city lights, deliberately planning the route so that my last dash has me so near within the Singapore Flyer it seems like I can reach out for it. What really pleased me tonight, was how the clouds resembled strokes from a brush, beautifying the skies. 

I’ve never been able to dig deep enough to keep at increasing my running distance, I’ve always hated some part of my body. I did the excessive exercising till I lost all will gig before, the crazy dieting, the self berating, the complaining, the hating – hating my body, and finding fault with it. 

But lately, I’ve been filtering all out the negative thoughts and taking it easy. Doing some stretches. Feeling my muscles move when I move. Ripping off my earphones to hear my breathing, against the still water, the city skyline and whispering to myself, “You can go slightly further. If you can you should not stop here.” 

And tonight I pushed myself to 50 minutes. I took it slow. I didn’t punish myself. I took deep breaths. I stretched downwards to touch my toes. I enjoyed the flexibility, I enjoyed the dull heat in my calves. And for once I finally feel at peace with my body.

lethargic rambles

A furniture gallery nearby my workplace saw us picking up some home accessories, and a huge ass mirror for the hall – and almost, very nearly almost this beautiful genuine cowhide armchair. (I have tech issues with rotation of photos, don’t judge me)

 

Only problem with it, was well, genuine cowhide and its hair pricks the skin especially when rubbed against the grain. Forking out more than a thousand dollars for something this non-ergonomic probably isn’t worth it anyway, right? 

Here’s a shot of my big arse mirror (covered up), and my new bamboo ladder for the bookshelf

The rest of the weekend was spent holed up in our apartment with me clearing my tonne of school work and E nursing his flu bug. I was literally in my denim cut offs, ratty tank top, Chanel eye glasses and a chopstick in my hair  - and although that does sound remotely chic, trust me it was bordering on gross as I was in that get up for the whole of Sunday and half of Saturday. Ok, digest it, now let it go. 

–

I leave you with a picture of me more cleaned up, together with the peeps who make work fun. 

In my books, there are 2 ways you get colleagues to be more of family – One, you find a common nemesis. Or two, you bond over bottles and bottles of wine.

gender miscommunication

Two of us working on our laptops..

E: “Man oh man..this is a mess”

Me: “..hmm? Hermes?” 

E: “Yup, a mess” 

Me: “ooooh… Can I come see?”

E: “Huh?”

I walk over to his side, stare at his screen and find a messy excel spreadsheet looking at me

Me: “…what the..”

E: “I told you it was a mess” 

 

W season

After tonight’s wedding, with our bellies stuffed and my mind boozed up, E asked, “So how did you find the wedding?” 

My reply? – “I’m sooo happy for the couple,I wish them all the best, it was a sweet montage..but, the wedding I witnessed is the complete opposite of how I want mine to be.” 

One more wedding come Sunday, its W season.

it keeps me going

Some people stick up a photo of their kids, some go by way of inspirational self-help quotes – at this point in my life, the two inspirational buzzwords are Bottega and Chanel. Someday you will be mine.

the debate continues

A special report ran on Saturday’s edition of our national newspaper, talking about ageism, how the fast growing aging population of Singapore are coping with prejudices and how we can educate ourselves and our kids in altering that mindset.

Now, can I just say its not only the old that are being held at an unfair disadvantage? What about the young? 

People who I work with are a good starting point.

Being 8 – 12 years older than I am, at the prime of their life and knowing what it was to have put in time and hardship in getting there – these people, have actually made seemingly harmless comments to my face such as “What? You are 21? Oh my goodness, I’m working with kids! What are you doing here?  You are sooooo young!” to the more tactful “They just keep getting younger don’t they! Damn! Soon they’ll hire an infant!”

I sincerely believe (and hope) that my colleagues don’t hate me or anything, but I can’t help but wonder..isn’t this ageism too? Does my age immediately undermine the quality of my work? There surely is a lace of skepticism when reviewing my work, wondering what “the kid” has come up with, if “the kid” can handle that next event all by herself.

That is only the beginning.

Anyone, and I repeat, ANYONE  who I meet, who finds out that I have a man in my life, a man who forgets that we have more than a decade in years between us, who loves me and embraces me for the 21 years of life that I’ve led, the inexperience I have for some matters, and the stubborness and enthusiasm I have for other matters – these people, they just cannot find it in themselves to genuinely feel happy for me. 

Questions and doubt surface first, before suppressing them with much effort and even so not everyone does, preferring to err on the side of “Is he out of his mind? What is his motive?” to “She’s too young, and the young does silly things.”